Page 1 of Masked Love

Mr. Hayes stood tall,with not a hair out of place, and slicked back in a smooth swoop. Whenever I looked at his hair, it reminded me of honey wheat that glowed in fields as the sun kissed over its tips, swaying in the breeze. His skin was as pale as the morning sky as the sun rose. His eyes were blue, not Caribbean blue, but Hawaiian blue, like they came from the depths of the dark ocean.

Ugh. I never waxed poetic unless he was around. What was wrong with me? I just got all swoony whenever he was near.

My face suddenly burned as if he could read into my very soul, so I quickly turned my attention back to my laptop, pretending to type out averyimportant email when he approached my desk, carrying a garment bag.

He laid the bag right on my paperwork, completely erasing that swoony feeling. Seriously? Just because my boss was hotness personified didn’t mean he could dump shit on my desk while trying to dohiswork. Or maybe he did and just didn’t care. What did I know? I’d only been working here for two months, still learning his nuances and behaviors. While he looked hot, his personality was cold, aloof at best.

“We’re going to a costume party tomorrow night, Mr. Everett. My date canceled on me at the last minute.”

Mr. Hayes was a snack, even for an older man of forty. Surely, he could find someone who wanted a nibble and go with him. And I had my own party to go to withactualfriends. I’d had no life after starting this job. While I loved doing it since it paid really well, and my boss was nice to look at, it took all my time to be at Mr. Hayes’ beck and call. I needed to get out and have fun, even if it was for one night. Bosses were not fun, hot, or otherwise.

“Whatever plans you have, cancel them,” he continued, staring down at me with those intense, deep blues, full, pouty lips, and blond scruff dusting on a jaw that was to die for. I had to breathethrough my mouth so I wouldn’t inhale his intoxicating cologne that smelled fresh but peppery.Focus, Greyson. “We’re going as Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. You’re Watson, of course.”

But of course, I am.

“It’s a party being held at the old Generations Hall. You know the one. The old sugar refinery near the French Quarter? I am one of the sponsors, so I received two free tickets to the event. We’ll attend, make our appearances, have a couple of drinks and some food, and then you’re free to go.”

I sunk into my chair as I deflated. If Mr. Hayes were any other man, I’d tell him to kiss off with his cute costume idea. Fine, I wouldn’t, but the thought would be there. That counted as having a backbone, right? Regardless, saying no to Xander Hayes, Founder and CEO of Nomadology - Specialized Travel Agency, was impossible. Still, I tried.

I sighed. “But… I haven’t really seen my friends since I started working here. I was really looking forward to dressing up as Mr. Darcy fromPride and Prejudice. He’s my favorite character, next to Elizabeth Bennet, from my favorite book.”

Maybe whining would appeal to his better nature.

Who was I kidding?

The only expression on his face was a raised brow, making me sink lower in my chair. “I’ll send my car for you at eight tomorrow night. Don’t be late.”

Okay, hotness does not compensate for being a jerk—a well-paying jerk, but still a jerk.

He turned around and walked back to his office. And no, I didn’t stare at his backside or notice how well his suit fit his tall, broad body. Okay, maybe I did just a tad.

When he shut his office door behind him, I exhaled loudly and sent a quick text in the group chat to let my friends know I couldn’t party with them. Then I turned off my phone so I didn’thave to read their complaints and be told I worked too hard and had no life.

Thanks. Tell me something I don’t know.

Once I organized Mr. Hayes’ calendar and cleaned up his email, I shut down my laptop for the evening and packed it in my leather case.

My apartment wasn’t too far from work, so I walked home. The temperatures were cooling down in late October, but it was still balmy and warm during the day. That was New Orleans for you. Despite being a winter lover, I adored the southern city. It was so wild and diverse. It had a strange sort of energy that filled you to your soul, and you couldn’t help but feed off it. Don’t even get me started on the fantastic music and food. Every time I was in the middle of it, I felt alive.

I let myself into my apartment, walked toward my bedroom, and rested the garment bag on my bed as Agatha, my black-and-white tuxedo cat, curled around my legs, screaming at me. “Just a minute, Aggie.”

I unzipped the bag and opened it to reveal an authentic-looking costume from the late 1800s. Mr. Hayes had really gone out of his way to find such a gorgeous costume. I certainly had no hand in it as his PA. My Mr. Darcy was a pretty good costume, but not nearly as realistic as this.

Of course, leave it up to Agatha to try to sit on it. I lifted her off the costume and kissed her head. “Food in a minute. Now be a good girl and try not to get cat hair all over it.”

After I set her down on the floor, I pulled out a navy blue wool jacket, black bowler hat, tie, scarf, black wool pants, suspenders, and a white button-up with a rounded collar. There was also a handlebar mustache. Seriously? God, I was going to sweat in this. Couldn’t he have picked out something more… breathable, like a Tarzan loin cloth? Hell, I would’ve been happy as Jane.Though, I had to admit we would look pretty epic tomorrow night.

After brushing my teeth for the night, I climbed into bed as Agatha curled next to me, purring up a storm before my phone rang. I picked it up off the nightstand and answered.

“Yes, Jojo. Let’s hear it.” She was calling to torment me about backing out tomorrow night, no doubt.

Jojo had been my best friend since high school, which seemed like a gazillion years ago, although it was only eight years since we graduated. So, I knew her as well as I knew myself.

“Oh, you’re so gonna get it. You need to learn the power to say ‘no,’ Grey. You don’t owe that man anything beyond what he’s paid you to do. I doubt he’s paying you overtime for this.”

“Well, no. I’m on a salary. Besides, you’re preaching to the choir. But I’ve only been working there for two months. I’m not ready to piss off the man yet. And the money is just too good.”

“Or maybe it’s because he’s Mr. Hottie McHotterson.”

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