Page 61 of Phantom
“When you asked Miss Mabel if everything was ready, this is what you meant?” She points a slender hand to the lavish decorations inside, but Madam G interrupts before I can answer.
“Miss Day, Mr. Bordeaux,” she calls me with a smirk that flutters the feathers on her peacock mask.
My eyes narrow at the formality. We’re family for god’s sake, but she’s always loved playing up our roles for the community. Like I told Scarlett, the Bordeauxs and Gastoneauxs work in tandem for the French Quarter. Over the years, the Bordeaux reign wouldn’t have been possible without the Gastoneauxs’ ability to obtain secrets. Blackmail is one of the easiest ways to ruin those who try to fuck us over.
“Welcome to the party,” Madam G continues. “Your table is reserved as per your request, Mr. Bordeaux.”
“Thank you, Madam G. I’ll have my usual and the lady will have the same, plus a Cinderella mocktail.” Madam G nods and walks away, leaving me feeling smug and Scarlett with that perpetually shocked look on her face that I’ve grown to crave. Spoiling my little muse is so goddamn satisfying.
“You know I don’t drink? And you know myfavoritedrink?”
“Of course I do,” I answer simply as I lead her through the crowded room.
After learning that alcohol can screw up sleep patterns for a person with bipolar disorder, I spent hours trying to come up with ways to get her to stop drinking. But she did it on her own. According to the shadow I have on her, she never wanted to feel out of control again.
As I wind us through the metallic and rose gold-masked guests, I sneer at every man who looks at her a little too long, silently memorizing each asshole’s mask for a personal shit list to give one of my shadows later. When I peek back at her, Scarlett is oblivious to the looks she’s getting. Her eyes are bouncing left and right at the bouquets and draperies of roses.
Smug pride swells my chest, and I peer easily over the crowd and find my brother in his corner. He’s hard to miss since his mask looks just like mine. I catch his attention and he nods back, settling into his chair with his sweet Maggie. It looks like the night is boring for business, but that’s all the better. On a bad night, Ben needs me because he can’t stomach the discipline sometimes required to keep people in line. It looks like we can fully relax and enjoy the party. For now, at least.
Once I finally get Scarlett to the corner booth reserved for us on the opposite side of the lounge, I let her slide in first so that I may be the buffer between her and all the people on the dance floor.
Candles illuminate each table, rather than lamps, and the high-backed booths and tall wall separators muffle the music, making it easier for guests to speak to one another within the booth. The candle glows against Scarlett’s ivory skin, and the moons in her eyes shimmer within her rose gold butterfly mask.
“Do you like it?” I ask, hating how much I want her approval. But when she gives it freely, a ripple of pleasure flows down my spine.
“Are you kidding me? Obviously! This is amazing. I rarely come down here, but when I have, it’s been nothing like this. The flowers were an amazing touch, Sol.”
I’m damn near preening, but I remember where the credit is actually due. “Miss Mabel has needed a little more cushion financially this year due to her husband’s illness, so the business should do her good. All I did was pay for the flowers and my shadows set it all up for Miss Mabel and Madam G. It helps that some of them are already stage hands for the opera house.”
She stills, and I know that inquisitive brain of hers is churning. “Your… shadows? That’s what you call your men, right? The ones who work for you?”
“Yes. They help me around the city. They are the Phantom’s body—my eyes, ears, and mouth.”
“Are they sometimes… your fists?”
I smirk. “They rarely have to be, but yes. Though, I am usually the one who dispenses justice.”
She nods and glances past me to the dance floor, studiously not looking at me.
“Does that bother you?”
She takes a moment to think about her answer, and I lay my arm across the back of the seat, subtly scooting her closer to me in case she tries to flee somehow.
“No,” she answers with a sincere shake of her head, and I relax around her. “I already knew that. I’m mostly surprised you’re telling me anything at all.”
My gaze flicks over her face before I pull her fully underneath the shelter of my arm.
“I trust you, Scarlett. I know you’re good at keeping secrets.”
It’s true. I’d be an open book if I knew she wouldn’t run away. After all the time I’ve watched her, I’m confident that the nature of my work would be the least of her hang-ups. But there are a few people in her life that if she realized how they’d first crossed paths, she may never forgive me.
Her eyes widen and her lush pink glossy lips part in a way that makes me want to thrust my cock between them and stretch them to their limit. I shift beside her and face the crowd, trying to adjust. My cock has no hope of deflating completely, and hasn’t since she put on this tight-fitting gown. The slit more than halfway up her thigh is tantalizing all on its own. Before going out, I had half a mind to tell her to change. But then the thought of being out on the town, even if it is just Masque, with Scarlett on my arm made me more excited than I’ve been…ever.
A waitress slips by almost unnoticed but for the drinks and two plates of gumbo she leaves on our table. Scarlett’s eyes round like saucers and she digs into her food, loving the hell out of it so much that she nearly drops some on her dress. I’m prepared though, and I catch the small droplets with a napkin before smoothing the clean side over her lap.
Her cheeks pinken as she mumbles her thanks. “Sorry. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until it was right in front of me.”
“I enjoy watching you eat.”
