Hold the phone.
I glanced back, blinking at the door as it slid shut, because hearing a man’s voice from a clearly feminine costume caught me off guard.
He sounded distressed though, so I shrugged off my surprise and pushed the door open again.
“Hello?” I called. “Everything okay?”
“No.” He started toward me. “Do you happen to have a light?”
“Oh. No, I’m sorry,” I said, feeling bad because I couldn’t help him in his time of nicotine need. “But I don’t smoke.”
“No, I mean…” He let out an amused sound. “I need an actual light. Like a flashlight. My stupid high heels were killing me, so I took them off for a minute, only to lose track of them completely.” His silhouette shifted as if he were turning in a circle and eyeing the ground. The light flooding into the courtyard from the door I held open was the only thing around to provide any kind of illumination. “I found a light switch for the garden,” he added, dejected. “But either it was the wrong switch or the bulb must be broken. I can’t see a damn thing out here.”
The moment struck me as so entertaining, I found myself cupping my hand to my ear. “What’s that, I hear? A fair damsel in distress?” Jumping into a classic Power Ranger pose, I stretched out one leg and bent the other while flinging up my arms in combat mode. “Never fear. The yellow Power Ranger is here!”
The man whirled back to me, the skirt of his dress rustling around his legs until his tall horns or whatever they were pointed archly in my direction. “You’re way too amused by this,” he said, his voice dry and clearly unimpressed.
I snorted out a laugh before I cringed. “Sorry. Couldn’t help it. I mean, can you blame me? It’s not every day I come across a Cinderella in drag, looking for her—I mean, his—lost slippers.”
“Maleficent,” he corrected, still lacking all humor. “I’m supposed to be Maleficent.” He pointed to the distinctly Maleficent-shaped horns on his head and then the flipped-up collar of his cape as if that explained everything, which, hmm, actually yeah, it did make total sense now that he mentioned it. Huh. Why hadn’t I caught onto that before?
Probably because stumbling across a dude in a dress at my company’s Halloween party had discombobulated me completely. It wasn’t exactly a norm for this place.
“Oh. Well, in that case.” I straightened and took a step in reverse as if to leave. “Sorry, but we Power Rangers are dedicated to protecting good and fighting evil. It goes against my moral code to aid and abet a supernatural villain.” Spotting a doorstop just inside the doorway, I bent and tucked it into place to prop the door open and let the light continue to spill out before I straightened. “Which is why I fear we must keep our ungodly alliance a total secret.”
He stared at me quietly for a moment as I joined him in the garden to help him search. Then he murmured, “Thank you for your generous assistance, Yellow. In return, I suppose I can refrain from casting an evil curse upon you and your offspring for all eternity.”
Startled that he’d decided to roll with my weird silliness after seemingly so stubbornly against it at first, I grinned inside my mask. I couldn’t tell who this guy was at all in the dark, but I decided I liked him. With a jaunty bow of appreciation, I said, “I thank you, kind sir—er, I mean, Mistress—Mister?—of All Evil.”
He stared at me a moment before he said, “You said you had a light?”
“Uh…” Okay, I guess we were returning to all-business again. My eyebrows crinkled as I winced. “No. Sorry. But I’ll help you look in the dark. Should we, I don’t know, retrace your steps or something? What color are the shoes?”
“Black.”
Of course. Damn Maleficent couldn’t have decked herself in a glow-in-the-dark white pump, now could she, er, could he?
“Right.” I blew out a breath. “Where was the last place you remember having them?”
“This way,” he answered, turning back toward the bushes.
I followed the swish of his skirt deeper into the garden, where the path grew narrower, squeezing us intimately closer together and farther away from the light of the open doorway. A half-moon from above and the muted glow of streetlights from the parking lot helped me make out the basic form of his silhouette, but that was about it.
The night was cool, but a light sweat sprouted on my brow. It didn’t matter at all that he was decked out in a dress and searching for his high heels; I was all too aware of how very male he was. The breadth of his shoulders, the confident masculine way he moved, even the way he tilted his head, searching the ground, screamed man. It was kind of hypnotizing, really.
“I took them off when I sat down by the Marcella statue,” he explained.
Marcella statue?
I slowed to a stop, stunned to hear that name spoken aloud after so many years. Nostalgia tore through my veins, making my nose burn and eyes water.
The male Maleficent had no idea what he’d just done to me by saying that name though. He kept moving through the darkness, away from me.
Worried I might lose him, I quickened my pace to catch up. Once I was a step behind, I discreetly cleared my throat. “You, uh, you know the name of the statue out here?”
“Yeah.” He glanced over his shoulder once, then turned back to pick his way between a pair of bushes, only to gentlemanly hold the leaves aside for me to pass through as well. “A chatty janitor that works here told me all about it.”
A grin spread across my face. “Bruno?”
Bruno had worked for JFI since before I was born. I grew up calling him Uncle Bru. He was the only person still working here from my father’s era that Lana had never fired. Aside from Brick, he was also the only other person who had ever visited me in my basement workroom just to talk.
The man in front of me paused before facing me. He sounded surprised when he said, “You know Bruno?”
“Of course!” I smiled brightly, not that he could see it through my mask and in the dark. “He’s the sweetest old coot you could ever meet. And the best janitor a company could have.”
“You work here, then.” It sounded more like a leading statement than a question, which made me hesitate.
I suddenly realized I had no idea who this guy was. And I’d just walked out into the dark alone with him. I hadn’t once felt threatened in his company, but a shiver raced up my spine, regardless. I was so stupid and naïve and gullible. What was I thinking, just dashing out into the night without a thought for my own safety because someone had said help? What sane woman with a working brain did that?
He could be—well, he could be anyone. He might even be one of Lana’s spies. Shyla had warned me my stepmother had a few moles within the company. They collected information through gossip and whispered everything back to her so she could use it to her advantage and everyone else’s detriment.
I didn’t want her finding out I was here at the Halloween party, or even in the courtyard right now. If Hayden had actually taken something from her office, and Lana noticed it missing, one of her spies—like maybe this guy—could tell her I’d been out here by myself, carrying around her teacup—if he’d even seen me with it—which meant I’d been to my workroom, close to her office.
And who do you think would get blamed for stealing her things? Yep. Me. Totally me.
Oh God. I didn’t want to be accused of any wrongdoing. I’d be fired again before I could even re-start.
Sweat misted on my brow, and worry gnawed at my stomach. Thinking quick, I said, “I, uh, I’ve heard all about Bruno.”
The man’s silhouette continued to watch me. He was thinking so hard I could practically hear his brain spinning, trying to figure out what I meant by my statement, because I’d clearly refused to answer his question of whether I worked here or not.
Then he asked, “From Broderick Carmichael?”
“I, uh… What?” Blinking, I shook my head. But seriously, out of all the names in the world, why the heck had he mentioned Brick’s?
“You two are here together, aren’t you?” he pressed. “I saw you enter into the ballroom with him earlier.”
“I…” Completely stumped by that, I blinked before slowly saying, “That’s right. I came to the party with—Wait. You saw me? In the ballroom? I didn’t see you there at all.”
And a man dressed the way he was would’ve stood out to me.
Wouldn’t he?
I guess I had been a bit preoccupied with staring at Christopher Elton and his date, and then smacking Brick in the arm for misleading me into thinking I had a chance with Christopher, and then giving cookies to Hayden. But still, a big, man-shaped guy like this in a dress? I think I would’ve noticed.
Maleficent chuckled. “Wow, you’re hell on a man’s ego.”
“I…” Oh, crap. I’d hurt his feelings. “No. No, I just meant, I’m surprised I didn’t see you because…” A slight waft of his cologne drifted to me. And wow, he smelled good. Like, really good. It smelled kind of familiar, though. Why did he smell familiar? I shook my head, pushing past that. “Because, I mean, a dude in a dress stands out around here, even at a costume party. You know?”
“I lost a bet.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I blinked, trying not to lean in so I could get a better whiff of him.
“My costume,” he explained. “My sister and I had a bet going. I lost.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “And you wagered over what you’d wear to the Halloween party? Really?”
“Mmm.”
Mmm? What did that mean? Maybe it was his way of saying he’d messed up without actually admitting it. And he had totally messed up with whatever bet he’d made. Because, wow, that was some costume. It would’ve been one thing if he’d wanted to wear it, but since he seemed distressed by it… Yeah. Wow.
I blurted out a laugh. “Why would you even take on such a bet?”
After a long-suffering sigh, he murmured, “Because I thought my sister loved me and wouldn’t dare be so torturous. But I guess I thought wrong.”
Unable to help myself, I laughed again. “Poor you.”
“My thoughts exactly,” he agreed before turning away and starting through the path again. “I probably shouldn’t mention this was her second costume choice, because they didn’t have her first choice in my size.”
I made a sympathetic sound. “Too bad.”
“No, no. Trust me, Maleficent was preferable.”
“Oh, boy.” My eyes grew wide, and I quickened my pace to keep up with him. “Now I gotta know what her first choice was.”
“Let’s just say, if I had to dress as a woman, I’d rather be an evil force of nature than something frilly and pink.”
“Little Bo-Peep?” I immediately guessed.
He barked out a surprised laugh before stopping fully and turning to gaze down at me. I still had no idea what his expression looked like, but this time, it felt softer. “Not even close.”
Talk about close. He suddenly felt incredibly close. Like inches away.
And dear God, his voice. All quiet and melodious like that, it did things to me. Lust coiled in my stomach as a masculine heat seemed to smolder from his skin and radiate straight into mine. I shuddered and swallowed back my rising response, even as I breathed his scent in deeper.
I don’t know what the heck my problem was. So I was in the presence of a tall, good-smelling, pleasing-voiced, attractively proportioned guy? Why ever would that interest me?
Maybe because I was a woman attracted to tall, awesome-sounding, awesome-smelling men with big presences. And it’d been way too long since I’d last been on a date.
Okay, that made sense.
Clearing my throat, I scratched at the side of my neck where my mask was rubbing my skin raw. Then, because I could barely see anything in the dark through the eye holes, I took it off completely. The gloves went next.
While I tucked the gloves into the helmet, Maleficent stepped closer, totally invading my personal space, as if my mask removal had been some kind of invitation.
“Uh,” I said, gazing up at him and blinking stupidly. Did he really have to stand that close? Because he smelled incredible, and I was kind of worried I’d move my nose right up into the crook of his neck and start nuzzling if he stayed there much longer. And that wouldn’t be embarrassing at all. Nope.
Honestly, as long as it had been since I’d had any kind of human contact, he was practically begging me to put my hands on him.
When he slowly reached toward my head, I held my breath, wondering if he was going to be the one to put his hands on me and touch…
He went for my hair.
I practically purred over how lovely and sweet it felt.
Before I’d left the apartment, I’d whipped my wet mane up into a quickie bun because I’d been pressed for time and no one would see my hair anyway. But I must’ve been in such a rush I’d missed a chunk. He picked up the stray strands that had been hanging over my left ear and held them up until the moonlight reflected off them, making them glow nearly silver in the dark.
“Blonde,” he said simply as if he’d just answered a question he’d had.
I reached for him to touch his… Well, I don’t know what I would’ve touched, just any place on him he’d let me. But thank God it was dark, because I caught myself before making contact and probably a total fool of myself.
“Right. I have blonde hair.” I cleared my throat and jerked my hand back to my side. “I think the statue’s this way.”
Darting past him, because standing so close to him was making me tingly in spots I probably shouldn’t be tingly, especially in the presence of a complete stranger in the dark, I fled from all the heated sensations he stirred and hurled myself through the dark along the path, knowing this courtyard like the back of my hand. But when I burst into the opening where the Marcella statue sat surrounded by a fountain with a concrete lip wide enough to sit on, I slowed to a stop.
Mother, my heart sang.
After she’d died when I was six, my dad had erected this statue in her honor. It barely resembled what she’d really looked like, but I used to come out here every day, regardless, just to sit with her. Sometimes I had talked to her and told her about my day. Sometimes I had cried, missing her desperately. And sometimes we’d just sat together in silence, sharing the sunshine. It had been a while since I’d last been out there, though.
Suddenly, I felt like a horrible daughter.
Drifting toward her, I slowly reached out my hand to set my palm against the outer ring of the fountain. When my fingers met with cool stone, I shuddered and closed my eyes.
Back in my youth, that stone had always been warm to the touch, soaking up the daylight and radiating it back to my fingers. To me, it had felt like my mother’s warmth saying hello, and it had comforted me.
With no sun now, of course the stone should be cool, but if felt more like my mother was gone, because I’d abandoned her statue these past few years since my life had turned difficult, and she’d given up on waiting for me.
I wanted to apologize to her, tell her I would come back again, visit her every day from here on out. Just please, could she bring back her warmth and make me feel not-so-alone anymore?
A presence at my side reminded me I wasn’t alone now. Not technically, anyway.
Maleficent sat on the fountain wall beside me. “Bruno said the original proprietor of JFI, Arthur Judge, erected this statue of his first wife after she passed away from cancer.” He looked up at my mother with a respectful kind of honor. “Her daughter would come out here every day and cry at her feet until they built the fountain around it to hold all her tears.”
Pressure formed in my throat. I tried to swallow it down, but it only seemed to grow bigger. I wanted to cry more tears into the fountain, fill it once again.
If only I could have both my parents back.
Maleficent made a sympathetic sound in his throat. Then he shook his head. “Bruno and his stories, huh? Sounds like a tragic fairy tale.”
I nodded and whispered, “Yeah. It does.”
“I doubt there even was a daughter.”
I spun to him, surprised. After a confused blink, I carefully asked, “What… What makes you say that?”
“Well,” he started slowly. “Where is she? Both her parents were the very foundation of this place, and she just abandoned it in the hands of someone like Lana Judge after they died? I find that hard to believe.”
My hackles rose as I straightened my back. I wanted to defend myself and tell him he knew nothing. I hadn’t abandoned anything, and certainly not at the hands of Lana. I would never desert my parents’ legacy. I was still here. I was working and fighting tooth and nail to regain my inheritance. My place.
If it were up to me, Lana would be far and away from JFI. And the other CEO, Nash, never would’ve been allowed to even buy half the company. But I would change that. All of it. Someday, it would be mine again.
Maleficent shrugged and kept talking. “Or maybe I’m just a sentimental idiot with too much family loyalty.” He tipped his head my way, explaining, “My mom died in a fire when I was nineteen, and I just figured if there’d been a statue erected somewhere of her, I’d drop by and visit every once in a while. But for as long as I’ve been here, no one but Bruno’s come out to this garden to tend it. At least not to my knowledge.”
My anger died, replaced by an empathic sadness. He knew what it was like to lose a parent, what it was like to hurt and miss them, as if a huge hole had hollowed itself out through the center of him. I wanted to reach for his hand and share the ache, but the intensity of my feelings kind of freaked me out. I shoved to my feet, making him lurch in surprise.
I wasn’t sure I could handle this moment. It felt too big. Too deep. I didn’t even know his name. Heck, I couldn’t tell you what he looked like, except that he was tall, had a nice figure, and smelled good.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing.” I took a few steps away, seeking the darkened shadow of a tree to put space between us, but not wanting to go far in fear I’d make him think he’d said something wrong. Because he hadn’t. Not at all. “I’m just looking for your shoes.”
Did I enlighten him to who I was? Explain my father’s will and how I hadn’t been given a portion of the company? Share how much I missed my mother?
And risk him being one of Lana’s spies so he could possibly ruin my entire future here?
“I’m, uh…” With no idea how to continue, I turned to him, only to trip over something on the ground. “Oh!”
