Page 21 of The Billionaire's Masquerade Ball

“Do you, now? I’m not sure a fancy degree would help me with my issues.”

“I don’t have a degree,” Xander said.

“Well, what do you have?”

“Experience. Some would say that I’m gifted in what I do. I’ve been successful.”

“How successful?”

He smirked. “Enough that you should accept my offer for free advice.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, then. I’ll give you a hypothetical situation. A woman has worked hard her whole life to advance in her father’s company. But he dies, leaving the whole thing to his second wife who is a…uh…”

“Wicked stepmother?” Xan asked. He felt bad as soon as the words left his lips, as he glossed right over the part about the father dying. The last thing he wanted to do was make light of that. Was that her father? How long ago had he died?

Thankfully, she grinned. “Yes. A wicked stepmother. She takes over the business, bringing in her children to work and demoting our heroine to basically a glorified secretary.”

“Why doesn’t she just leave?”

She turned away from him, putting her legs back on the floor and looking out over the room. He admired the curve of her neck and her pale complexion. He wished again that he could see her eyes better. But even with the mask, he could see that they were bright with unshed tears. Her voice, when she spoke again, was a few octaves lower.

“Let’s call it family loyalty. Legacy. It’s all she really has left from her father, even though it’s not like she has it. The wicked stepmother made sure of that. Now she’s just forced to watch helplessly as the company’s run into the ground.”

“That’s a rough situation.”

“Tell me about it.”

“No matter what, I’m sure our hypothetical heroine’s father would be proud of her hard work, whether it’s there or somewhere else.”

Her chin dropped and he wondered if she had started crying again. He hadn’t meant to make her cry.

“There is one other option,” he said.

“What’s that?” Her voice sounded like it had lost most of the fire that it had before.

“She could buy them out.”

She snorted and then began to laugh. She rested her head down on her hands, shoulders shaking. Xander wanted to respond but didn’t know how. Her laughter sounded humorless and forced. His shoulders stiffened. It wasn’t bad advice. Really, it was probably her best option.

“Your plan is flawless. If this hypothetical woman had an unlimited cash flow, that is. But I doubt she’d be working as an administrative assistant if she did.”

Xan felt his heart twist. The pain lacing her voice was thick and unhidden. She pulled the mask away from her eyes an inch or two, running fingertips underneath to wipe away tears. When she sniffed, he couldn’t take it anymore and leaned closer, running his hand down her back. He sucked in his breath at the feel of her bare skin under his fingertips. He traced her spine down to where the back of the dress laced up. She stiffened and he pulled his hand away.

“I’m so sorry,” he said.

In a swift motion she stood, leaning over the railing that overlooked the ball below. He got up to stand beside her, the sleeve of his tux lightly brushing her forearm. For whatever reason, he felt acutely aware of every touch.

“It’s a hypothetical situation,” she snapped. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m sorry about that, too. I wasn’t trying to be insensitive. But I meant sorry for touching you. I didn’t mean to be too forward.”

“Oh. That’s okay too. Weirdly.” A blush lit up her cheeks and she glanced quickly at him and then away. “I mean, I don’t normally let men I don’t know touch me. But it didn’t bother me. I feel like I can trust you somehow.”

Xander swallowed. He felt something like that with her too. Trust wasn’t the right word, exactly. But he felt an intense connection that he didn’t quite have the words to explain. He would probably regret this tomorrow, in the light of day, when the masks were off.

Calm down, Xan.

It was getting harder to convince himself that he could compartmentalize his heart for one night. She hadn’t just made his walls come down a bit. They were crumbling to dust at her feet. Could he put them back up?

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