Page 119 of His Two Hidden Masks

Leo and Ari were at my right, Odessa and Shea at my left, next to Roberto and Lissa. I sat by myself at a high table, my feet tapping. The lights went off in a black-out.

The crowd quieted in unison as if we had all made an unspoken agreement to hold our collective breath. The lights slowly brightened bathing the stage in a warm, golden light.

Strand stood centerstage, his face covered by his signature black-and-gold mask. He carried a guitar in his hands. The crowd went wild. Odessa and Shea jumped to their feet. Roberto and Lissa clapped. Leo looked at me his eyes wide. “Oh, my God,” he mouthed.

I stifled a laugh and took a deep breath trying to calm my heart. I was married to that gorgeous man. At least for now, I thought. I raised a cocktail to my lips and took a sip of the sweet and bubbly drink, warming my core.

As the applause continued to thunder, Strand walked downstage toward our seats. He raised three fingers to his mask and blew a kiss in my direction.

It was one of the sexiest moves I’d ever seen. The crowd saw Strand, but I knew the man behind the mask, Dylan Street. People stood on tiptoes, craning their necks to get a better look at our table.

“Holy shit,” Shea said. Leaning over, she smacked my arm. As the clapping continued, Strand sat down on a stool centerstage and tuned his guitar.

Behind him on a raised stage, a half-naked woman lounged on a bed of roses. She kicked her legs together in time with the plucking of Strand’s guitar strings.

An acrobat wearing a black bodysuit swung on a swing behind him. Strand leaned over the microphone stand and cleared his throat.

“Good evening,” he said, still tuning.

The crowd clapped in unison, all eyes on the stage.

“Or should I say, hello lovers.” His voice sounded so sexy to me. I imagined everybody in the room wanting him. A roar of possessiveness moved through me.

“My name is Strand, and I will not be performing for you tonight.”

The crowd gasped, followed by murmurs of confusion.

Leo glanced at me and I shrugged. My heart pounded. What was Dylan doing?

“I need to explain something to you,” Dylan said, as he strummed on his guitar. “You see, Strand retired and came to Venice to disappear.”

I couldn’t look away from him. His black-and-gold mask glinted in the light. Odessa and Shea were equally mesmerized. Arms on their cafe table, they leaned forward to soak up Strand’s every word.

Ari stood behind Leo, his arms wrapped around his waist. Even Roberto and Lissa appeared transfixed by the performance, their fingertips intertwined.

“How many of you are here for the first time?” Dylan asked the crowd. A few women hollered, and a man dressed as a flower pumped his green fist in the air. “Fucking Venice!” He screamed.

“Yes, fucking Venice.” Dylan laughed, throwing back his head. “This city is magic. In fact, there is a little-known fact that if you stand in the moonlight, you may find your beloved. Venice will give you the gift of sex, the gift of love.” What started as random notes began to take the shape of a melody.

“I met a woman here who changed my life,” Dylan said, strumming. “We stood in the moonlight and she cast a spell on me.”

I couldn’t breathe.

“I fell in love with her. And like every stupid fucking musician in history, I fucked it up.” The crowd roared with laughter. “I wish I were joking, but she was the love of my life. And I lost her, and tonight I got a second chance.”

“Where is she?” a man shouted at the stage.

Dylan smiled and nodded toward my direction. “She’s here, and she has shown me that I don’t need to hide. I never did.”

He stood up, guitar in hand. “Strand played last night in Venice, his final show. Tonight, I will be performing as myself.”

He paused, and the crowd was silent. Everyone was on pins and needles waiting for Strand to speak.

“My name is Dylan Street and this song is dedicated to my wife, Isabella Uzano. You are my everything and this song is ‘Our Truth.’”

My wife. He loved me.

Dylan set his guitar on a stand and placed his hands on either side of his mask. He lifted it off, revealing himself to the crowd. The ballroom erupted. My friends stared, mouths gaping as they looked from Dylan to me and back again.

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