Page 2 of Masked Love

“That could be a teeny-weeny part of it.”

“Ugh, you’re hopeless.”

“So, what else is new? It’s lonely working such long hours, and he’s nice to look at. Anyway, I miss you guys, but maybe while I’m out, I’ll get lucky and meet a guy or something. One can dream, right?”

“What happened to that… Davey? Danny? Dougie?”

I snorted a laugh. “Dustin. You know very well what his name is. You also know we broke up.”

“But he wassocute!”

“If he was so cute, why couldn’t you remember his name? Anyway, he was also an egotistical jerk that played way too many video games.”

“Fair. But now you’re going to spend Halloween night with an egotistical boss.”

Truth.

“He’s notthatbad. He’s a very busy man and doesn’t have time for things like idle chit-chat or telling me how attractive and charming I look in my new charcoal-gray suit.”

Jojo giggled over the phone. “As I said, hopeless.”

“Who knows? Maybe it’ll be fun.”

“It better be because you deserve some fun. Your last job was horrible.” She sighed on her phone. “We miss you. I miss you. Please make sure you at least take some time off for yourself.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Call after the party and tell me all about it.”

“I will. Bye.”

She gave me air kisses and hung up.

I stared at myself in the full-length mirror behind my bathroom door, adjusting the collar and tightening the tie. Mr. Hayes provided a mustache in dark brown to match my hair color. I loved not having to wear a wig or that he made me look old. Shit, it was itchy, though. I wiggled my upper lip, deciding that I’d never grow a mustache, no matter how much they were trending.

The costume was a little big on me, but it’d have to do.

Before I could shrug on my coat, my phone pinged. I picked it up off the bathroom counter and saw Mr. Hayes texting me.

Mr. GrumpyHotnessBoss: My car is

waiting.

Me: I’m ready. I’ll be down in a second.

Mr. GrumpyHotnessBoss: Tick-Tock, Mr.

Everett

I rolled my eyes and shoved my phone into my pocket. Grabbing my keys, I rushed out the door, locked it behind me, and ran down three flights of stairs before bursting out of the lobby door.

Mr. Hayes had sent one of his fancy black SUVs to pick me up. An older gentleman in a black uniform stood by the car's back door and opened it as I approached.

“Good evening, Mr. Everett.”

“Thanks,” I said.

When I slid in, I stopped in my tracks, seeing Mr. Hayes waiting for me. “Oh! I, ah, thought I was meeting you there. I mean… hello, Mr. Hayes. Thank you for picking me up.”

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