Chapter 8

Eight

Magnolia

O ut here among the stars, the scent of honeysuckle and rain clings to the autumn air. Its scent curls around me and promises to provide the evening a dramatic backdrop of rolling thunder.

As it grows darker, the events of the evening will start soon. Large French doors hinge wide open to let in the beauty of willow trees playing in the light breeze. In an hour’s time, rain will wet the gardens, and everyone will be inside losing themselves to love and lust.

It is breathtaking. Magical even. If such a thing exists.

This time last year I was in Seattle preparing for a night of glitter-covered dancers. Unknown to me I would share an encounter with three daring strangers that led me to believe magic was real. Now I know the truth. It’s created with light dimmers, lots of booze, and the euphoria of orgasms. Two are based on chemicals and the other by the power of fairy lights.

Nothing magical about it.

“Magnolia, there you are, beautiful. Tonight is simply magnificent. I knew you were just as sick as I am.”

A dear friend in a midnight-purple mask glides across the ballroom and joins me out in the Golden Key Society’s gardens. Nothing can hide those signature blue eyes that run deep in her family. The rebel mafia princess wraps me in her arms. We met while she was tied to the bed and looking to kill her three stubborn godfathers. She definitely had a good reason to, considering they’d tied her to the bed in Room Seven and had a night of punishment planned. That was two months ago.

It took years for her to make a move on her feelings which was a long time to bottle up emotions. Something I understand and what made us fast friends. Everything worked out okay for her and though it hurts to see others find their happily ever after when my heart aches so deeply, I’m truly happy for her.

Since then, we’ve taken our run-in with heartbreak and used it to establish a separate society where other women can share their experiences of loving more than one man at a time. The Morning After Society will open in one month. I’ll be spending most of my time there while Aster and her men operate New Orleans Gilded Key Society as it’s new owners.

It’s amazing how much time can change everything—for the good and the bad.

“Astra Constantine. You look beautiful with your pregnancy glow. Where are your men?”

I take the hug and the positive energy she pushes my way. Growing up in foster care was lonely. Astra is everything I wished to have in a sister.

She wags a finger in my face. “First, where is that beautiful mask I saw you with earlier?”

I huff. “Ditched it. I thought it would be easier for the members to recognize me if they need help.”

She considers me for a moment, and I know she sees through my half-truths, but she only gives me another hug. The truth is, I couldn’t bring myself to keep it on and not break down in tears from the weight of my broken heart. God, I’m a sappy mess tonight.

Astra settles her hands over her small baby bump making memories claw out of their neatly-closed boxes. I shove those demons back in and turn the key. This is no place for my dark heart.

She doesn’t know the true depths of my heartache or how I miscarried three months into my pregnancy. No one does and I am not about to dampen her happiness with my craptastic past.

Her arms stay around my middle, and she rests her head on my shoulder. “It’s hard to think this is your last night here.”

“Yes, but not the last night for us. Do you think the Morning After society will truly help women?” I hate doubting myself, but it lives in the back of my head and I’m unable to shake it off.

“I’m hoping it will, yes. I want us to create a place where love can thrive. Just imagine all the stories we’ll hear about.”

I laugh. “You little gossiper.”

Her smile is laced with guilt but not a lick of shame. “Can you blame me? I love a good love story and the harder the path to that happily ever after the better, right?”

“You’re something else and speaking of love, where did your men wander off to?”

“Mirsha is getting himself and Luther a drink and I am pretty sure Viper is talking with Raja somewhere in that far corner. He wants to know a few more details on the inner workings of the key bearers versus the key masters. He has a few ideas he wants to go over with Raja about broadening our locations after the wedding, too.”

She taps the edge of the papers I have in hand. “But you have work to do and I need to wrangle my men so we can make a game plan for dinner. I’m starving.”

“I was headed to Raja’s office when I caught sight of the beautiful starry sky and had to take a moment to enjoy it. But forget that. You can’t just drop announcements and rush off.”

I pull her in for a big hug.

“I knew it was only a matter of time before they proposed. Are you planning the big day before or after the baby?”

Twinkling stars of amazement and happiness glitter in my friend’s eyes. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not in any big rush. I was kind of hoping to hold the wedding either here or the Morning After Society surrounded by all that beautiful stained glass we are having installed.”

“A wedding at our new fancy townhouse in the Garden District…yes! I would love to help plan it. I mean, if you would like that.”

Aster playfully swats at my shoulder. “Girl, you’re going to be my everything. I couldn’t picture the wedding without you. Oh, here come the men.”

Three men well into their forties edge the growing crowd of members entering the large ballroom. Light jazz carries mingled with hushed voices. Women stop their conversations to appreciate the elegance of all three and without realizing it, fall under their spell. It’s a beautiful thing to witness. So is the love glimmering in my friend’s eyes.

I had that once. Did I glow with that much love?

I shove the intrusive thoughts to the side. None of my stupid what ifs or what could have beens matter now. I’m here and they dumped me like a bad idea, broke my heart, stomped on it, and ghosted me. I wasn’t even worth a goodbye.

There goes that heart pain again. I rub at my chest, covering my groan of pain with a fake cough.

I’m safe from my former guardian and no one knows where to find me.

That is what matters.

“Hey, babe, are you okay?” Astra turns to face me blocking out the view. One night over cans of wood stain and pizza I told her certain pieces about Danika, Rune, and Oliver. Other details I left out. She tries to make me see love can always happen and hearts can reconnect down the road. I guess I believe her, but tonight my wounds feel fresh.

“It’s your anniversary, right? The night you met them.”

“Yeah, but I have a lot to keep me busy and then tomorrow I move into the Society. It will keep my mind occupied until I can forget about them.”

“It will be a big day. Are you sure this is what you want?”

“More than sure.” The Gilded Key has been my home for a while now between Seattle and here. Moving to the Garden District and taking a step toward a fresh future will be scary, but I’m ready for the change.

Astra’s three men join us under the stars and halt the conversion.

“Magnolia, Raja promised a night to remember, and I can see from the preparations there won’t be a dry pussy or limp dick in the place come midnight.” If I had champagne in my mouth, I would choke right about now. Since I don’t, my face flashes red and my eyes go wide. “Viper, you truly know how to use your words.”

He reminds me of Rune. Direct and less polished than his friends. It’s what I loved about him.

“Damn, man, is there anything you think that doesn’t fall out of your mouth?”

Luther shakes his head at his friend and Astra tucks her head into his chest, hiding her laugh. It’s beautiful to witness but the interaction between them has me wanting a dark corner and a box of tissues. Sometimes I hate being so damn emotional.

“Catch you later, guys. I have to get these forms to Raja and then it will be time to begin. Are you staying for the night?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

My friend leaves Luther’s arms and gives me a kiss on the cheek before I blend into the crowd, heading for Raja’s office.

I have my head stuck on work when I spot a familiar face in the crowd.

Or I think I recognize a set of dark eyes. I catch a hint of the silver but just as quickly the flash of recognition is gone.

“Oh!” Surprise locks my knees and I stumble into a nearby wall. It’s not even Christmas and I’m being haunted by ghosts of my past. He isn’t dead as far as I know, but he is dead to me.

I press fingers to my temples and try to ward off the pounding in my head. I need a drink and a mental detox. I’m going to tell Raja I need to sign off early tonight. I don’t think he’ll mind.

A group of members wander in from another parlor.

“Hey, Magnolia?”

Misconnections fire off in my brain before cranking back up and reconnecting to the job at hand. “Um. Bailey. Yes. Um. Did the caviar arrive on time?” I check my phone. It was due an hour ago. It should already be on the trays and making its rounds among the members. Shit, I’m dropping all the balls tonight.

The quiet, but diligent newcomer to New Orleans offers me a steadying hand without question. “Yes. Everything is going smoothly. Nothing wrong to report. I just wanted to let you know this arrived for you at the desk.”

Bailey holds up a single magnolia flower and has me reeling back and falling into unsuspecting members.

“Whoa, you okay, miss?”

Blood rushes in my ears and I can’t hear anything but the sound of his voice in my head.

“ Watch Daddy. This is what daddies do to pretty girls.”

I throw my hands out to find purchase on anything or anyone as long as I don’t fall face-first to the floor.

“Sorry. So sorry.” My hands don’t start to tremble. They full-on break out in a sweat and shake so bad I feel like I’m going to drop my papers and my phone.

“Magnolia? What’s wrong?” Kind blue eyes search mine for some kind of answer, but I shove my emotion into the black pit in my brain and wash away all remnants of chaos from my expression.

But inside my head my voice of self-preservation is screaming for me to run again.

He’s found me. But how?

I’ve told no one. I eat, sleep, and live in this place. I rarely ever leave the Golden Key property.

My mouth is suddenly dry. “I, uh, I have to go. Toss that thing. It could be poisoned.” I grab the flower from Bailey’s hand and throw it in a nearby wastebasket.

I turn back before Bailey can leave. “Did you see who delivered this?”

Her shoulders rise and fall with a small shrug. “Just a man in a delivery uniform. Why?”

“Never mind. Go get ready. The main event is about to start.”

Leaving Bailey behind, I rush to the front of the Society in time to see a man leave out the front door, his head tucked low. He’s about the right height but so are millions of men.

My veins seize. Blood cuts off to every part of my body.

“Miss Lafleur, Raja is looking for you. Says he has something important to tell you.”

I hear another hostess try to get my attention. “Yeah, thanks,” I hear myself mutter. I’m torn. Do I call the cops and ruin everyone’s evening? Do I pull Raja into my nightmare and tell him the real reason I moved to New Orleans? Or do I swallow my fear and get back to work? I can always head to the precinct after work and speak with the detective.

That seems the saner course of action. I’m safe inside these walls.

Or at least I thought I was. I’m no longer sure of anything.

I throw a quick look back at the door, but it’s already closed, and the chains are being placed on the handles. At least there is that. It’s time for magic to happen—as fake as it is. I need to get in the right frame of mind. I duck into an alcove and start my deep breathing routine. Two in fast, one out slow. One by one my muscles relax.

Warm air brushes over the expanse of my bare back. It is as if the night reaches out for me.

I spin around, my eyes landing on every angle of the large parlor room. All the members are filing into the ballroom. Jazz music pipes through overhead speakers. Chandeliers dim a fraction to create an arousing atmosphere.

My heart jackhammers.

I catch the hint of green. I freeze and double back but the crowd shifts too much. My brain is playing tricks on me.

And then the familiar scent of their colognes grips my senses. It carries on the warm current of air—a heady mixture of masculinity and virility. I’m thrown backward into memories I never want to visit. Not unless I’m a half a bottle of tequila into a terrible night and alone in my room. And even then, I rather think of anything else but them.

I twist my fingers around the cool, fleeting feeling of hope and then throw it to the ground and stomp all over it as I backtrack toward the main ballroom. Hope can die a painful death right alongside wistfulness. I’m done with both and the tricks my eyes are playing on my abused heart.

“There.” I see a brilliant green and a hint of silver. This time I lock onto the men those eyes belong to. One of the men is missing. I narrow my eyes and grip the lace and silk of my dress, ready to run. But not before I locate the third enemy. I scan the room, but nothing. What the fuck are they doing here?

The wild look in their eyes rivals their predatory gracefulness. These beasts of men are as dark as they are deadly as they move in my direction.

“No.” With shaky fingers, I push the long strands of my hair from my face, sure I have to be seeing things.

My heart squeezes and I briefly forget there are tens of eyes watching me. I regain my composure and clamp down on the rolling emotions at seeing Danika and Rune weaving through the crowd.

Both men raise their eyes to mine over the heads of the other guests and I lose the ability to breathe altogether. Forget shielding my heart. There are bombs going off inside me and I can’t catch my breath. Surprise. Fear. Excitement. Curiosity. Anger. So much fucking anger. All emotions clog my throat and twist into a savage ball of knotted roots pulling and tugging my insides.

They grow closer.

“No! This is not happening. You can’t be here!” Rage fires hotter than lightning inside me.

“Yes,” comes a husky voice. Dark brows pull over black eyes offering Danika an aura of danger. “This is happening, Magnolia. You’re done running from us.” Danika reaches for my hand, but I jerk it away just in time to see him grasp air. I stumble back to find myself shut off from an escape.

“Nope.” I throw my other hand up when Rune does the same, but he is prepared, the bastard. Hot lips kiss the palm of my hand. Fire scorches my skin. I can’t run left or right, and these two bastards block the only exit from this death trap.

I jerk my hand back and look up to see a wolfish grin on his handsome face.

“Magnolia, petals, don’t run. You have nothing to fear.”

If eye lasers were real, Rune would be cut in two.

“I’m not scared. I’m so mad I want to drive a blade through your heart and show you what it feels like getting ghosted.” My treacherous heart stutters, stalls out, and races all at once.

I push forward, my hands on either man’s chest and I don’t know why but they follow my lead and step back. Like they want to play with their food before they devour it.

Me.

Nope! Been there! Not doing it again.

“You two need to find that third wheel of yours and leave.”

They flinch as if struck across the face. I can’t find it in me to care. Danika reaches for my hand, but I quickly snap, “Don’t touch me. You gave up that right, remember?”

A flash of desire flickers over their faces. It’s there one second and in the next the dark, brooding masks of unmoved men take its place. But I saw it. And I recognized those flames. They touch me with that much heat burning inside them and I won’t survive.

Danika drags in a deep breath through his nostrils as if fighting to maintain control over his anger.

Around me the bronze scones and heavy century-old crystal chandeliers dim. This is my chance. Taut string strike chords and the symphony hits its first note of Bach.

I use the shadows and cling to the walls. There will be no easy escape. But I have to try.

“Magnolia,” Rune and Danika call after me. “Don’t run. You won’t get far. Come back to us.”

“Ha. Nope! It’s my new favorite word alongside bastards. No. Make that rat bastards.”

Moonlight breaks through open windows. Light catches on the green of Rune’s eyes.

My mouth silently falls open as the men prowl toward me. I duck down a corridor and head into another one, the delicate ends of my dress clutched in my hands. This can’t be happening. I’ve gone off the deep end and I’ve lost my fucking mind.

“Magnolia, this is it, girl. This time tomorrow you will be heavily sedated and locked away for your own good.”

Double French doors hang wide open at the end of the corridor. Gauzy white curtains lazily flutter in the breeze. Moonlight reveals there’s not a soul on the other side. I can hook a right and be in Raja’s office within ten paces.

“It’s a good plan. Get a barrier between me and these bastards.”

“Who are you talking to, amore mio ?”

A shadow moves, blocking out the natural light of the moon. I screech to a halt, the spike of my heel catching on the carpet. I tug it free and smack at hands when they come out to reach for my elbow.

“Magnolia.”

Uncontrollable rage shoots through me.

“No!” I grit out and hope the lasers shooting out of my eyes slice Oliver’s heart from his chest.

Warm brown eyes latch onto mine. Tousled brown hair. Clean jawline.

“Oliver.”

The black material of his tuxedo contours to his thick arms and fits his tall frame perfectly. I remember every swirl of ink and every scar beneath all that expensive material. Pure freaking muscles carved out of granite.

And I hate that about me.

“So, you are alive. I wondered. For a full solid three weeks I thought there was no way you would ghost me. The first week I visited your building worried to death something happened. I was human. Sorry about that.” My sarcasm turns his expression from grim to dangerous. I don’t care. They want to intrude on my territory then they get what they deserve. The truth hurts and I’m going to make sure I draw blood.

“You know, at first they told me you were out of town. Okay. But then you deleted our messages. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the manager or whoever you put there to kindly tell me to fuck off told me just that. He should get a raise for breaking a heart that only cared for other human beings. But whatever. By week three I got the message loud and clear when I dared come by one more time in a moment of weakness. That time, I got a gun in my face. You wanted nothing to do with me.” I raise a hand and salute Oliver as a fuck you too.

“That’s not true.”

I have every right to want to see this man dead, but all I can do is stare at Oliver.

“No one would dare put a gun in your face.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “Ask your doorman. The one with the scruff of a beard that has bald patches. Believe me, I have a long memory and it’s reminding me right now just how much I hate the three of you.”

I shove at Oliver’s chest when he steps in close and mixes our body heat. It’s just me and him in a long empty corridor. Nothing but dimmed lights and ten empty rooms on either side of us. I swivel my head and see we won’t be alone for much longer. The other two are slowly making their way down the corridor. Probably wanting to give me time with Oliver.

As far as I am concerned, I’ve said my piece and I’m ready to get back to work.

Then why does your chest hurt so damn much?

“Magnolia,” Oliver draws out, savoring my name on his tongue. The allure of falling into his arms even now after all they did to me is strong. It’s hard to just wash away the love you have for another human being.

“Lia, I missed you. Please give us a chance to explain.”

“You mean another chance at crushing my soul? No, thank you. You don’t deserve that from me.”

Breathing heavily, I slam my fist repeatedly into his chest, but he doesn’t flinch or back down. He just eats up the space between us and puts his arms around me like he has the right to touch me.

Pain so unreal I can’t even catch my breath takes over my muscles and locks my chest down tight.

More arms come around me and I’m locked into a circle of warmth.

“Danika,” I whimper. Not out of lust or relief but so much pent-up frustration and hurt that my words and voice fail me.

“Magnolia, petals. Our beautiful flower.”

Hands stroke up and down my bare back making me wish I opted for a potato sack instead of a revealing dress that made me feel attractive for one night of the year.

I shove at hard bodies and they back away far enough to where I can look them all in the eye.

“You don’t get to call me that!” I drive the tip of my finger into tight muscle and then nail the closest one with a swift right hook.

And then I run like the devil wants me dead.