Page 44 of Heart's Masquerade

She gasped. Torrian’s godfather. “Yes, thanks.” She had no idea what to say. She hadn’t heard much about him other than to know he called Torrian a few times while he was at her apartment.

“It’s better if we meet somewhere, and I’ll take you to Torrian,” Niles explained. “If I just show up at your home or work, then…”

“No, I understand.” She arranged the place and managed to brush off Rhashon, who had showed up at the outreach center demanding Torrian’s address so he could go beat him to a pulp. To her relief, she was able to slip out the back of the building where they rented offices and get to the address she had given to Niles. From the moment the sleek BMW turned the corner, she knew she was in over her head.

Niles, an elderly man with a leathery face but kind hazel eyes, greeted her and held the door open while she climbed into the car. He shut it and shuffled back to the driver seat. They pulled off, and she clutched her purse to her, giving a small chuckle.

“I have to admit I expected a limo.”

He met her gaze in the rearview mirror and smiled. “This is less conspicuous.”

“In what world?”

He didn’t respond.

Jaz saw that they were headed toward downtown. “Are we going to his office?”

“No.”

“Not his house because I don’t want to go there now.” She hadn’t meant to put the emphasis on that last word. Resentment slipped out.

“The place is somewhere Mr. Donnelly enjoys, and he said you do also.”

She frowned. “Are you his godfather?”

Niles’s eyes widened. “No, ma’am. I thought it was clear. I’m his chauffeur, nothing more. Well I do care about Mr. Donnelly. He’s not the happiest of men, but no, we have no connection other than employer and employee.”

So Torrian had lied.

The place turned out to be the sandwich shop they had discussed both liking downtown, a restaurant called These Words. When Niles held the door open for her and she walked inside, Jaz took the stairs up and discovered the place was empty except for the owner and Torrian.

An ache so powerful, she almost stumbled caused her to reach her hand out to a chair. Torrian stood as soon as he saw her, his gaze locked on her face. She deliberately looked away from him. “Kenzie, it’s good to see you again.”

The woman smiled and handed her a fruit smoothie. Jaz used to order them whenever she came downtown and visited the shop. “It’s good to see you again, Jaz.”

Jaz’s eyes widened. “You remember me?”

“Of course. You’re a woman after my own heart, with a love for those less fortunate.”

Now Jaz recalled they had discussed the solicitation ordinance in Boston and what it meant for the homeless. She felt bad that she’d forgotten, but it felt good that Kenzie hadn’t. Kenzie asked if they’d like something to eat, but both declined.

“You two take your time,” Kenzie said, pushing Jaz toward Torrian. “The place is yours.”

Jaz’s mouth fell open. “You don’t have any other customers?”

The woman shrugged and winked. “Sometimes, special customers rent out the whole restaurant.”

Jaz frowned. The news only reinforced Torrian’s duplicity, and her anger rose. She felt no more need to put off talking to him and approached the table. Torrian reached for her hand. “I’m glad you came.”

“Don’t,” she bit out.

He froze. “Jazara, I—”

“Were you slumming, Torrian?”

His expression showed confusion. She dropped into the seat across from him for the simple fact that her legs refused to carry her any longer and set her glass down.

“Sleeping with someone beneath your social status just for…well, I’m not sure of your reasons. Because you didn’t have to make a commitment? Because it turns you on to sleep with the hired help? Take your pick.”

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