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He shrugged. “Sure, why not? It will be fun.”
She seemed to bubble with happiness. “Great! Now let’s talk about how much you suck at wrapping gifts.”
Torrian growled and reached for her. She screamed and tossed the gift on the couch before running off down the hall. He leaped to his feet in hot pursuit and with every intention of having the best holiday a man had ever enjoyed. All with the most amazing woman on the planet—Jazara Crane.
Chapter Eleven
Fall had changed to winter, and winter had eventually given way to spring. Jaz had no idea where the time went. All she knew was she and Torrian lived inside some kind of fairytale. She knew they were kind of hiding out, but at the same time, it was so much fun. He came to her place and stayed days at a time when he could. Sometimes he received calls from Niles, and she knew it was Niles calling because she could hear his voice if not his words over the line. She’d seen his name flashing on the screen. Yet, she knew there was something Torrian kept from her. After while she started thinking he was married with an estranged wife or one that cheated, too. She hated believing that about him, and he didn’t seem like the type. Her deductions of how he behaved and how he spoke said he was educated. His ignorance of some basics she dealt with every day said he made more money than she did. Maybe he was a manager at some big, important firm.
Aside from all of it, Jaz came to the conclusion that just to hold on a little bit longer, she accepted what they had. There were no broken dates, no weird calls in the middle of the night, no obvious lies. He gave her a lot of time, both at the center and at home. He had even allowed her to call his cell at all hours, and she had so tested that bad boy out when he did. Not once had she had a strange woman answer.
So, she accepted him, as he was, and enjoyed their time together. Their sex life was insanely wonderful, and they both learned to cook a little bit because Torrian refused to live on takeout. Jaz didn’t mind. With him at her side and in her kitchen,
they had had a blast. She didn’t want it ever to end, or change for that matter. Still, with spring here, it was time for new beginnings. She was not the type of woman to bury her head in the sand, and yet, she’d done it for months. Time to set things right.
Jaz climbed out of bed and walked to the window. The one in her bedroom overlooked the small gap between her building and the next, but she got a narrow view of the sky. Puffy white clouds hung in a vast blanket of blue, and from the level of light, she guess the sun shined. The weatherman called for temperatures in the low seventies all week. Maybe Torrian might like a picnic.
Jaz had scarcely finished brushing her teeth and was still dressed in her robe when a banging started at the front door. “Sheesh, it’s seven in the morning. Who the heck could that be?” Torrian had left at five thirty, and she missed him.
Glenda shouting through the door brought Jaz up short, and she considered not answering and pretending she was still in bed. That wouldn’t work, of course because she needed to get into the office on time. Not to mention Glenda was liable to disturb the other neighbors if she didn’t shut up.
“She’ll just stalk me until I leave anyway.” Jaz groaned and unlocked the door. When she opened it, she met a sight she did not want to see—her neighbor in rollers and a green, cracked facial mask. “I think you forgot to wash your face.”
Glenda thrust a sheet of paper at her. “Take a look at this. I printed it out. You know I don’t buy the paper when I can get the news online, but this jumped out at me when I went to log into my e-mail this morning! Read it!”
“Secret lover,” Jaz began, but Glenda cut her off.
“Look at the picture. It’s you and Torrian.”
A cold chill raced over Jaz, and she stared at the picture, an obvious snapshot of Torrian leaving her place and turning back to give her a kiss. The question was why would this be news. She found out quickly as Glenda babbled and her own eyes confirmed the report. “CEO and chief stockholder of Koracom Electronics has been spotted in South Boston with…”
Jaz couldn’t believe her eyes. Her name had been given in the article, if not her address. The picture showed her face for the entire world to see, and no one could mistake the identity of the man who kissed her. Torrian’s stats were given, his estimated worth, where he lived—among the rich and famous of Boston—and the only good thing she could glean from this disaster was that he was indeed a bachelor.
“Did you know, Jaz?” Glenda asked. “That he has money?”
Jaz didn’t look up from the page, but her vision blurred, and she could no longer read the words. Confusion, fear, and hurt vied for attention in her head and heart. Somewhere behind her, her cell phone rang, but she didn’t move. Then several clicks caught her attention. She looked up into the face of a person with a camera aimed at her.
“Ms. Crane, do you have any comments on the nature of your relationship with Torrian Donnelly?”
“Nature?” she whispered.
“Yes.” The man had the boldness to walk up onto her steps. “Do you think he was doing what they call ‘slumming’ with you?”
“Now that’s just mean,” Glenda said and inserted herself between Jaz and the reporter. She put her hands on her hips and didn’t even flinch when the man snapped off a shot of her face. “I’m sure Jaz knew everything there was to know about Torrian. They’ve been together a long time, like six or seven months.”
“Oh?” The reporter noted this fact in a notebook he held.
Jaz shook herself. “Glenda, stop talking!” She faced the reporter. “I have nothing to say. Please get off my property.”
“It’s not really yours is it?” he shot back. “I mean Torrian Donnelly didn’t actually buy you a house or anything. He just kept visiting this little apartment, keeping you where you belong and him where he does.”
For the man’s pains, Jaz raised her hand to smack him, but Glenda beat her to it. The man landed on his ass on the sidewalk, and he cradled his camera like a baby. Jaz spun on her heel, marched into the house, and slammed the door on both of them.
Her cell phone rang again. She looked for it and found it on the bedside table. Three missed calls from numbers she didn’t recognize. Someone had left a voice mail. At first she hesitated to check, but the little emblem that said it existed always annoyed her. Even if one swiped it away, the stupid thing returned until the message was cleared.
To her surprise, the voice mail came from Lamont. “Hey, Jaz, I heard about your problem with that white guy. I warned you, didn’t I? Listen, I’m the only one that knows you and cares about you. Let me come over. I’m free now. Yasmine and I have filed for divorce. Call me. This is my new number. Give us a chance.”
Her stomach churned. She erased the voice mail and put the number on block. Another call came in before she could put the phone down. This time it was Torrian. For long moments, she stood there staring at his name. Her heart raced so hard it hurt. She licked her lips, hands shaking. When the call switched to voice mail, she sank down onto the bed and kept watching the screen. No symbol popped up. Instead, Torrian called again, and again.
