Page 68 of His Two Hidden Masks

“I always have a guitar with me,” he said, as if I had asked if he enjoyed breathing air.

“Even though you don’t play anymore.”

“It’s a part of me. A part I just couldn’t access.”

“But now that has changed.”

“Something has,” he said, looking at me.

Lord, help me, I could feel his eyes peeling off my clothes layer by layer.

He continued to play, the falling notes reminding me of rain. The beauty of the music he produced with a single instrument was magical. I knew how talented his hands were when they played my body. Knowing they were also capable of making music this beautiful was dangerously intoxicating.

“How did you get in here?” I asked softly, surprised I could form words.

“This lovely blonde woman walked me in through the restaurant when I told her you and I had plans today.”

Lissa, I thought to myself. Of course. Perhaps that had been her small act of rebellion, her way of making things right after Papa had made her his messenger girl.

“You probably should stop playing here,” I said in hushed tones, leaning in closer.

“Should I?” His fingers moved across the strings so quickly, the melody sounded like a response to my question.

“Yes, the staff has work to do.” I nodded to Andrea and Vincenzo at their work stations.

“Don’t leave on our account,” Andrea shouted quite loudly, catching my eye. “This is so much better than the garbage music this one subjects me to.” She nodded toward Vincenzo.

“Before I go, I need a taste,” Dylan said.

“A taste of what?” I said, my temperature rising.

“A Bella Baci,” he said, gasping. “What were you thinking about?”

“You are very naughty,” I said as quietly as humanly possible.

“I warned you I was a handful.” He rocked his head back and closed his eyes, and his fingers played another round of notes that called up memories of sunlight bouncing across the silver surface of the lagoon.

“Fine,” I said. “One chocolate, and then you go.”

“Yes, I need a sample of your delicious sweets. I’ll be a good boy, I promise.” His deep brown eyes locked on mine. He was sitting so close to me.

“Okay, then. Guitar down.”

He strummed a few more bars, and nodded as he finished playing. Andrea and Vincenzo clapped from their station in the back. Auntie Aurora poked her head outside her office.

“Andrea. Vincenzo. Break time. Walk with me.” She gave me an approving nod as she and the crew exited out the kitchen door, leaving Dylan and me alone.

I offered Dylan the tray of samples. “You know we offer complimentary chocolates at the front desk and for turn-down service.”

“It will taste different, standing next to you,” he said. His hand lingered over the Black Sea salt caramels. “These look delicious.”

“Those are Madagascar vanilla bean, Spanish dark chocolate, and Black Sea salt from the Island of Folegandros.”

“You source all this yourself?” he said, holding the caramel up and twisting it in the light as if it were a delicacy.

“Yes.” I rubbed my forehead. My head hurt remembering my father’s ask. My heart hurt knowing I had to go through with it.

“It makes me happy. Finding the right ingredients feels like a puzzle to me, and I love putting the right pieces together to make something more beautiful.”

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