Mikala's Passion (Pulse Series Book 2) Read online

  Stilling the image onto the screen Mason sat back, downing the remains of his coffee. “The creep got hold of a key.”

  “This entire thing is sick as fuck!” Chase said, a tinge of anger seeping from his pores.

  “I think it’s time she came and stayed at the penthouse with Eden and me.”

  Mason looked over at Mikala busy packing glasses into plastic crates, a sinking feeling grabbed Mason’s chest. The idea of her leaving him again when things were beginning to look up, gave him a nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach. He watched as Chase walked over to her and made his offer.

  Mikala was quick to give her answer, wrapping her arms around Chase’s waist. “I love you for the offer but I’m staying put.” Mason heard Mikala say. “I made a promise to Mason and I intend to stick with it. Mason’s not going to let anything happen to me. Considering he’s on me like a shadow, I’d have to say I couldn’t be safer.”

  Chase was quick to surrender, confident that Mason was the best man for the job. He handed Mikala an assortment of swatches from the table and directed her to the stairs, away from any further talk of the intruder, and with the promise of a big surprise. When he looked over at Mason before ascending the staircase, they shared an unspoken agreement to revisit the conversation later when they were alone.

  ***

  Mason walked into what was soon to be Mikala’s new bathroom and laughed when he found Mikala reclining with her eyes closed in the claw tub, protectively packaged in bubble wrap in the center of the room. Her eyes opened and she grinned when she saw him watching her from the frame of the not yet finished doorway. He sat on the tubs edge, the plastic crackling under the weight of him and they laughed.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked.

  “For a bathtub, I guess it is.”

  “Look, its pink,” she announced, pushing a piece of the plastic back so he could see the bright pink glaze on the bathtubs exterior.

  Pink was her favorite color, although she could never wear it because it clashed badly with the color of her hair, she still loved it. Her apartment had been decorated in black and white damask wallpaper and black lacquer furniture, and all the accessories had been fuchsia pink, except the red ‘Betty Crocker’ appliances she loved so much, in her kitchenette.

  “Only Chase could get his hands on a pink bathtub,” he laughed. “Do you think the toilet will match?”

  She lay back again and sighed. “Is it crazy that I hope the Reno takes a while longer?”

  “Why’s that?” Mason asked, imagining her naked body with a thin layer of bubbles floating on the surface of the water at the swell of her breasts. Just enough bubbles to keep her nipples carefully hidden from sight.

  “Just saying,” she offered as explanation, but it wasn’t what she meant. “I’d like this jerk to be locked behind bars before I move back in.” She didn’t want to be here anymore. And if truth be told, she didn’t want to be here alone.

  “The place is going to be as safe as Buckingham Palace. No one’s going to step foot into this apartment without alarm bells going off,” he assured her, all the while hating the idea of her moving back in.

  “Come on, we’ll get take out on the way home,” he said.

  He slid his arms under her lifting her from the tub and holding her in his arms with an intense stare until she wriggled free and he was forced to set her feet on the floor. Mikala was trying to create a distance and Mason didn’t mind, as long as it was a temporary gap.

  The drive back to Mason’s loft was quiet. The only real conversation consisted of Chinese food choices from a menu Mason kept in his glove compartment. Mason couldn’t help the feeling that Mikala was at the end of her tether and needed a night without talk of stalkers, security systems and dance clubs.

  “I was thinking of visiting Mel and my Mom in a few weeks,” Mason said, breaking the silence as they sat side by side at the island picking at Singapore noodles and Kung Pao Chicken.

  “How are Mel and your Mom? I haven’t heard from them in so long. I got a pretty card from them after you…” Mikala’s words faded away, she didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to be reminded.

  Mason searched out a shrimp and held it to Mikala’s mouth watching as her lips close around his fork as she smiled her thanks.

  “Come with me, we’ll make a weekend of it. We can leave on the Friday morning and come back Sunday night.”

  “What about the club? I can’t just disappear like that, especially for an entire weekend.”

  “The dance club opens next week and it’s going to be at least two weeks, if not more after that before the private club can reopen. Surely that new business partner of yours can hold down the fort for one weekend, hell, Eden knows the place like the back of her hand. You’ll thank me for the break.”

  Mikala swirled a trail of noodles around on her plate, worrying her bottom lip in thought. “Okay, but don’t make more out of this than it is. I’m agreeing to spend a weekend with friends. It doesn’t mean we’re back together.”

  “I get it, friends going on a weekend getaway,” he said. “I’ll call Mel and tell her we’re coming.”

  “Mason?” she asked, as he held his breath waiting for her to tell him she changed her mind, but she surprised him with a smile. “Tell Mel not to say anything to Marcy, we’ll surprise her.”

  “Great idea, mom will be thrilled. She’s been bugging me to see her since I got back, she’ll be happy to see both of us.”

  Mikala scraped the remains of her dinner into the garbage, cleaning away their dinner mess. She found the dishwasher detergent and turned it on, before quickly getting changed into pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. Sliding her feet into her fluffy pink slippers, she could hear Mason laughing with his sister as they set the weekend plans in stone. Mikala had become close with Mel and missed her terribly, not that Mel was avoiding her. Mel had sent letters and cards that Mikala read and then tucked away unanswered. And Mason’s mom, she was the June Cleaver of modern day. Her entire life revolved around a clean house and well fed children, even though they were now well established adults. A widow for most of Mason’s life, she never remarried. Marcy told Mikala once that when Mason’s father died, so did that part of her world. She assured Mikala that she was happy and then proceeded to bake them a pan of chocolate brownies, which they devoured with a cold jug of milk.

  Mason had always been a good son, Marcy would brag. However for a time after he married his first wife, then discovered her drug addiction, he became estranged from Mel and Marcy while he dealt with that nightmare and her subsequent tragic suicide. Had it not been for a push from Eden during the Christmas season, Mason would probably have remained detached and they’d still be at odds.

  “All set,” Mason said, with childlike excitement in his voice. “Mel says mom’s going to be over the moon when she sees us. By the way, she says to tell you she can’t wait to see you again and has a bottle of your favorite wine sitting on ice already.”

  “I bet she does.” Mikala closed the distance between them throwing her arms around Mason’s neck, “Thanks for inviting me.”

  “You never need an invitation they’re your family, sugar.” He reminded her just how close they had all been at one time. His arms hugged her tight to his chest and he breathed her in with his eyes closed, building a memory in his heart.

  “Family,” she repeated the word, in a soft whisper.

  The atmosphere was becoming rather melancholy, bordering on depressing. And if Mason didn’t do something soon to change things, he feared she’d be buried in a box of tissues listening to Carrie Underwood singing some sad country tune.

  “Let’s make popcorn and watch a movie,” Mason suggested. “I’ll grab the blanket from my bed and we’ll curl up and forget the world outside exists for a few hours.”

  “I think I’d like that,” Mikala said, backing out of his hold and walking to the kitchen. “I’ll make the popcorn. What do you want to watch?”

  “As long as
it’s not a chick-flick I don’t care!” Mason yelled, as he yanked the heavy faux fur blanket that resembled a bears hide, from the foot of his bed.

  “About time,” Mikala teased, sitting in the big pink chair for two with a bowl of popcorn and two cans of pop sitting on the table next to her.

  He pulled his shirt over his head discarding it on the floor. Her eyes cruised over his deliciously ridged abs to the sweats he wore hanging low on his hips. He was looking sexy as hell. She was more excited about curling under a blanket next to all his partial nakedness than watching a movie with every sex god actor buck naked on the screen. She wasn’t sure if he knew what he was doing for her libido, but if he did he was working it well.

  “I narrowed it down to two choices, The Fast and The Furious or The Italian Job,” Mason said, waiting with the remote in hand.

  “The Fast and The Furious, I love Paul Walker,” Mikala said, sadly. “Too bad he died so young, such a talented actor.”

  “But he died doing what he loved best, if you gotta go at least go happy,” Mason said, as the opening credits appeared on the TV screen.

  With remote in hand, Mason lowered the lights to a dim glow, setting the blinds in motion. Mikala watched as they lowered between the two panes of glass and then closed to a solid screen of chocolate brown. She loved that Mason wired the entire loft to a remote control, like living in a futuristic fantasy world. The lights and blinds, the alarm system and heating were just a few items she knew he could control while never leaving his seat.

  “What would you like to be doing if you were about to go?” Mikala asked, with a laugh.

  “You,” he said, suggestively with a wink pulling the blanket over them.

  Mikala blushed as her lady parts tingled and settled into his side, adjusting her body to melt to his form. As if she weren’t close enough Mason lifted her legs over his, holding her in place as his thumb slowly stroked back and forth against her thigh.

  There was no tension, no awkwardness and all was right in the world, for a few short hours anyway, until Mason woke to a black screen and an unkind void where Mikala had been snuggled into him. Reality was a bitch, like a swift slap across the face, when he recognized that the carefully constructed wall was back up again. He stood stretching his arms over his head and glanced up to see Mikala’s foot dangling over the beds edge in the hideaway.

  He let out a heavy sigh and went to bed.

  Two huge spot lights shot rotating beams of light up into the sky, like a beacon calling aircraft to land and join the party. The street was littered with so many people that security feared the police would be called to clear the crowds. The din was deafening.

  It was the most thrilling night Mikala could remember in ages, she was having trouble managing her excitement, rubbing her hands down her hips, adjusting her hemline and checking her reflection in the window. She couldn’t help but step from foot to foot continually as if she wasn’t capable of standing still, besides moving about seemed soothing somehow.

  Mason stood as close to Mikala as possible without crowding her, admiring the way her gold sequined dress clung tightly to all her mouthwatering curves. He worried he’d spend the night with an uncomfortable hard-on, as he forced himself to focus on the job at hand.

  Slowly scrutinizing the mob of half dressed women hanging off of the arms of sharp dressed businessmen, he surveyed the want-to-be aristocratic crowd carefully for the creeper. They had chosen to refer to him as the creeper, this would be the code name used for trouble-come-quick by Mason’s well-chosen security team.

  A hot pink ribbon hung across the doorway as the clock ticked away the seconds until the grand reopening became official. Mikala stood nervously with jumbo sized scissors in hand and a smile the size of Texas across her beautiful face.

  Carl put his fingers to his parted lips and gave an ear piercing whistle, stilling a large portion of the crowd. He held a rope in his hand attached to a black drape hiding Pulse’s neon sign, catching most everyone’s attention as he summoned Mikala to his side.

  “Welcome to our grand reopening, we’re so glad you could all come share this night with us. Let’s make this a night to remember!” Carl tugged the rope and the black drape fell away to reveal the new signage.

  ‘Pulse & Passion’

  The dazzling hot pink neon letters came to life on a matte black background. Mikala threw her arms around Carl’s neck when she saw it. “Holy shit Carl. It’s perfect. When did you do this?”

  “It wasn’t my doing honey, it was Mr. Dean’s idea,” he told her.

  She turned, finding Chase and Eden standing with waiting smiles. “I hope you like it, Mik.” Chase said.

  “Like it? I love it!” she yelled over the crowd, leaping into his arms sharing a group hug.

  “We’ll talk later about advertising for the club, it’s going to start soon.”

  “Advertising, I don’t like that idea. Private remember?” Mikala asked, with a frown.

  “Discrete advertising,” Chase said, circling her face with his fingertip. “Happy face Mik. Tonight is a fun night, just enjoy!”

  “Oh I will, but tomorrow we talk,” she warned him, turning to the doors.

  Carl started a countdown. “Ten. Nine. Eight.” Mikala opened the scissors holding them to the ribbon and smiling up at Mason. He winked folding his arms over his chest, ready to swing into action.

  “Three. Two. One,” The crowd roared, as the ribbon sliced in two and fell gracefully on either side of the doors entrance. A red velvet rope was swiftly erected in order to form a semblance of order and allow security to check ID’s and stamp hands with a new P&P logo.

  The stairs to the private club were barricaded off with a coming soon banner, and a guard stood like a boulder as a deterrent to anyone trying to get past. Mikala had arranged a celebratory free drink ticket to be handed out as each person entered, and watched as the dance club filled and the bar broke into action.

  An entire new look had her gazing around the room in awe. Chase had kept her busy with the private club, not wanting to reveal too much before tonight. Mikala was stubborn and if she had her own way everything would have stayed the same. ‘Talk Dirty to Me’ was booming from the surround sound speakers, the DJ in his glory after his unplanned vacation, patrons had already congregated on the dance floor. The walls were a beautiful velvety mocha color by daylight but tonight they appeared neon blue, as lights arranged in the drywall lit up like tiny stars. A ball of rotating laser lights hung from the ceiling over the dance floor causing beams to shoot all over the room in multiple colors. The dance floor looked like a sheet of glass with spinning lights underneath dancing in patterns to the beat of the music, the DJ’s booth was now located in a corner above the crowd. The one wall beside the DJ housed elegantly swirling neon tubes spelling out ‘Pulse’ the entire expanse, in hot pink. Mikala couldn’t help smiling, this was her baby and her baby was larger than life tonight.

  The bar ran the full length of one wall, and the once tacky mirrored backdrop was now replaced with a wall of colored bottles lit from behind, modern and bright. All the usual bar paraphernalia was carefully hidden from view, no more glasses and bottles and brewery signage. Dispensers sat out of view under the counter giving a clean professional look. There were no barstools around the bar to cause congestion, now there was a designated area with tall tables and seats on the other side of the room instead. It was perfect and as people congratulated Mikala on the new look with hand shaking and hugs, she noted Mason keeping her in constant sight.

  “There was a flower delivery for you, Miss Santino. I put it on your desk in your office.” One of the many servers whispered into Mikala’s ear, she nodded and smiled over to Mason.

  It took at least ten minutes to get past the crowd with all the congratulatory hugs, as well as air kisses and high fives she had to do on the way. Once in her office, she spotted the flower box with a pink ribbon sitting on her desk. Mason walked in closing the door behind him.

  Mikala
brushed her hand over his cheek and laughed, “Did you do this?”

  As she proceeded to untie the ribbon Mason stilled her hand with his. “I didn’t send flowers.”

  “You didn’t?” she asked, disappointed.

  “Sugar, you know I don’t do flower shit. It’s not me.”

  He was right, he never gave her flowers. He told her once it was because he considered it giving a gift that was already dead. He did give her a house plant once when she was sick, and as it turned out she managed to kill it in a matter of a few weeks.

  Mason moved her aside cautiously lifting the lid away staring into the box. “What’s this?”

  Mikala peered over his shoulder and let out a gasp. “I thought that burned up in the fire,” she said, reaching in and pulling out the elongated baby blue shadow box and setting it on her desk.

  Mason rested his hand on her shoulder, neither one saying a word.

  Chase and Eden had the shadow box custom made for Mikala after she lost Charlie. His sweet little face was pictured in the center, a footprint on the left and a handprint on the right. There was also a hospital bracelet and a silver rattle that was to be Charlie’s gift from Aunt Eden and Uncle Chase, along with his birth announcement which was to appear in every paper Chase could think to submit it. He was going to be an awesome Uncle, he was devastated the most of all their family and friends staying by Mikala’s side for weeks.

  There was a note on red paper, carefully tucked to the side. Mason took a tissue from her desk, pulling it free and reading it aloud.

  “Enjoy the moment, this too shall pass.

  I will let you have Pulse for now.”

  “What does that mean?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure,” he answered, as shocked as she was. “This was in your apartment?” Mason brushed his hand gently over the frame as if it were delicate and fragile and could shatter if he wasn’t careful.

  “Chase and Eden gave it to me, it hung over my bed. I thought when I didn’t see it, that it was ruined and got trashed with everything else. I don’t get it.”