"...when it is real, you can't walk away..'

Masks do not only conceal identity but get the wearer in a position to play the role of someone else. It could be someone who is not approved by social standards or a chance to be someone else entirely. I am drawn in by the idea of masks.

I wear masks every day.

For starters and this is my most important mask, the dotting father who will do anything for his daughter. Madeline is the best thing that has ever happened to me. She's the only good that has come from my failed marriage.

I consistently switch between being a father and the cold ruthless business man hell bent on success. This mask was given to me at an early age. I practiced to wear it untill it began to feel like the first one, part of me. Helena rarely treated me like a grandson. I was her apprentice from as early as I could understand what she said. She taught me how Bale Industries works from a very early age and she i still teaching me.

My least favorite one is the tolerant husband who goes home every single day to a house that feels empty and cold because his marriage is a failure. This haunts me because I don't handle failure well. I wasn't raised to fail. Mistakes were not allowed or tolerated. Helena mostly gave me one shot and it was either I excel or I fail. I had to excel in everything. But in regard to relationships, I'm failing if this damn marriage is anything to go by. I stay because of Maddie.

The one I wear well and too comfortably is the estranged son who has not gone back home to Florence for almost ten years and makes zero effort to mend broken bridges. I excel at burning them. Heaven knows how many opportunities I have squandered to fix my broken relationship with my mother. Yes, she is the problem. I have no issues with nonno but I refrain from talking to him because the highlight of our conversation has always been 'make peace with your mother.' My father and I don't talk much and it is all right because that is how we are. A little or no dosage of each other keeps things calm. I don't have the strength to get into my unending conflict with my mother. She is a drama queen who blows every little thing I say out of proportion. It doesn't help that I am petty. Dramatic and petty cannot share the spotlight!

My most recent mask is the married man trying not to drool over a desirable beauty. She will get me in trouble. I know that, but this mask doesn't care. I want to be reckless with her. I can't get her out of mind ever since I saw her at the construction site. I can't look at her like I do other women. There is something in me that is triggering my body into a need to misbehave. It is cold outside but I am sweating and my palms are not excused from it. I dabbed a hankie on my forehead hoping that no one can see the sweat I am breaking because of this woman. This has never happened to me before. It's not that hard for me to get a woman's attention. I am nervous! I'm going over 'pick up lines' in my head. It's like I am a teenager again but the irony is I never had trouble picking up girls. I'm not socially awkward and I can be the occasional flirt. But the script has changed. Keira has written a new one and I am the one going to her. She is turning me into the loser who can't pick up a girl because he is tripping on his words before he even says them.

None of the words I am thinking of saying to her seems appropriate. Is the ballroom overcrowded and too loud for me to think? Or is my body burning up too much for my mind to work? The cold ice box in my chest is beating but not of help where romance is concerned. Now it's romance! Dio! I should slap myself!

The silver dress she is wearing does little to conceal her well-endowed chest. If attention is to paid and proximity possible, I bet I can make out her peaked buds. I folded my hands into fists when I suffered an urge to fondle them. I want to slip off the thin straps from her shoulders and watch the slick dress slide down her frame, all the way to the floor. What a treat! I am so glad people can't read minds!

She is standing alone in a simple white feather mask but her blue eyes sell her out even if most of her face is concealed. I knew it was her the moment I noticed her eyes. A few people are standing in between us. I consider them obstacles on my path to the beauty I desire. I still have no idea what I will say. I conveniently left the businessman mask at home. I wanted to unwind and then I saw her...

As soon as a waiter passed near me I took two champagne flutes. "It's now or never Nicko." I told myself. "Be cool. Don't fuck this up."

Why is she making me so nervous? She's not intimidating. Warmth and friendliness radiates off her! She is totally approachable yet I am cowering behind the uncertainty of what to say. It is the perfectionist in me. It wants this to be perfect.

I took the first step toward her and one after another until I finally reached her. Thank goodness I didn't fall flat on my face. "Miss Ballard." I addressed her in a strong confident tone.

"Mr. Bale!" She sounds surprised but happy. Her eyes flickered with excitement. It is brief eye contact but powerful nonetheless. I offered her a champagne flute but she declined. "Thank you sir, but I don't..."

She didn't need to finish it. I emptied both glasses. Heaven knows I need it.

"How have you been?" She took the empty glasses from my hand passing them to a waiter. I noticed how she smiled sweetly at him and I felt a little envious. Does she do this with every man? I want that smile for myself.

Eleven days of avoiding her just to be sure she doesn't affect me but damn I want her! She has awakened something that has been dormant within me for a while. It's another mask, one I have not worn in a long time. The man who wants the love of a woman. He's a dangerously selfish and demanding man.

"Busy."

Busy trying to push her out of my thoughts during the day and sex dreams in the night that feel far too real. I can't even remember the last time I got intimate with a woman but I remember each dream she is part of.

"I came to your office a few times but you were never in." She informed me.

I am not one to run from anyone but Keira is the reason I have been working from home. I am avoiding her just to see if the heat I feel for her will pass so that I can get back control over my body but now it is pointless to even try. She is standing right in front of me and I am burning up more than ever.

"We never did talk about how your family got into debt." I asked just to deflect myself from saying things I will regret; things that probably involve the back seat of my car or some other tight space for two.

"After my brother graduated from college my dad entrusted the family business to him. He was too preoccupied with my mother's failing health to continue taking care of the estate or pay attention to how Keith was managing it." She explained as I looked at her. "He didn't know how careless Keith would be. He's a compulsive gambler and he drained company funds to aid his ill habits. The years went by with my dad blindly trusting him. He had no idea what was happening behind the scenes. One day he decided to look at the financial records and he literally got a heart attack at how close to bankruptcy we had gotten. After the heart attack his health started failing too. It became a mess as the bank started to repossess our farms and houses to offset loans that Keith took out. We lost a lot of properties and we slowly became broke. Then you happened and my dad kind of saw a way out."

"So how deep in debt are you?" I got closer to her.

Yup! She smells sweet! Just vanilla today. Sweet vanilla! What the hell am I doing?

She grew nervous and she wanted to step back but I held her elbow stilling her. My eyes pleaded her not to put any more distance between us.

"If you pull out of this deal, my parents are going to be homeless. We can't afford bail for Keith. My mom's chemotherapy is draining us and my dad's heart may give out soon without proper health care. Please Mr. Bale," her fingers encircled my right wrist causing the burning sensation to shoot up my right arm. She rubbed circles on my palm with her thumb while maintaining timid flaky eye contact. It's either she's doing this on purpose or subtle seduction is her super power. All I know is I'm willing to comply. "I'm begging you in the name of everything that's good and pure, don't abandon us in our time of need."

I had to snap myself out of saying yes. I dropped my hand and I'm the one who stepped back. She retracted hers maintaining the same gaze. It is not wise to blur the lines. Their stupid trust in a compulsive gambler is not my fault. I am not under any obligation to fix this. Not even her soft voice will move my stubborn soul.

"I won't make promises." Amidst the desire haunting me, I must remember to be objective about the situation. She is a gorgeous delicate flower! But I don't want to be trapped in a bad business deal because I cannot tame my eyes. "But if you step in for your brother and pull your own weight, I'll stay until the completion of the project."

She has to work for it.

"Thank you sir."

"May I dance with you?" I asked when I noticed there are other people around us and they are dancing to some slow music. We are the only ones who are not dancing.

"Yes." She answered.

My hand shook slightly when I settled it on the small of her back. I feel almost unsure of myself yet I am skilled in ballroom dancing. It was another lesson from Helena. It got even hotter when we laced our fingers and her hand settled on my shoulder. She's quite tall and far too beautiful to be real. Ten years in Manhattan and I have never seen this girl! Having her this close feels amazing!

I am not a big fan of rich people soirees but this one will forever be the most special one just because I am dancing with her. Looking at her, holding her and swaying her in my arms is the best use of my night. After the dance I took her outside where it is quiet. I draped my dinner jacket over her shoulders to keep her warm. "Thank you Mr. Bale. You are thoughtful."

"Anything for you." The words slipped out of me without much thought. I suddenly wished I could take them back.

"Mr. Bale, your phone is ringing." She pointed to the inner pocket of my jacket.

"Sorry, excuse me." I stepped away when I saw it was Lupe. "Is everything okay?"

"Si signor. But your little girl is crying for you. She won't go to bed. We are seated outside waiting for you to come home and it's cold. I hate cold. Tell me you're around the corner somewhere."

Whenever she is with me, Madeline can't go to bed if I haven't tucked her in. I allow her to sleep in my bed sometimes and if not, she still creeps into my bed on most nights. She is only three years old. I allow her get away with it. After all, she is all I have.

"I'm coming home." I answered with conviction after looking at Keira. I want to stay with her and find out where the night will lead but my daughter comes first.

"Is everything okay Mr. Bale?" She asked me.

"Yes. I need to leave." I ran the tips of my fingers over the side of her face. Her petal soft skin feels good to caress. Her eyes are so deep and beautiful. Should I stay? Haven't I earned this night after surviving the paralyzing nervousness that hit me when I saw her? "Good night Keira."

I guess the dad takes precedence over the lusting husband and the man desiring the love of a woman.

She wanted me to give my jacket back but I declined. She needs it more than I do.

"Good night Mr. Bale."

This is by far my most thrilling mask. Her voice is going to ring in my ears all night.

I am very still and quiet. I am wondering when he is going to finish. Intimacy is nonexistent in this. It is more of a duty I have to persevere as his wife. I feel nothing and sometimes I fear that I may be frigid but then I remind myself that my heart is not in it. I have completely switched off. It hurts me that he uses me to get off. His pleasure is his only agenda. I don't think I have ever experienced an orgasm with Jason. He has never gotten me to the big 'O' like I read in romance novels.

Jason Burke, my husband, is a selfish man. We were high school sweethearts who burned bright and burned out. I was young and stupid. It was that blissful sweet infatuation that faded quickly when reality sank in.

I married the wrong guy and for two years I have been regretting it each day more so with our current situation.

We were childless.

I cannot conceive. I have tried for two years and nothing. No baby. It frustrates Jason to the point he sometimes gets physical with me, insulting me beyond reason and his family lives to make fun of my situation. His mother always has something nasty to say to me each time we meet as if she rehearsed it beforehand.

When the grip on my hair got tighter I knew he is close. He groaned loudly cursing like he usually does before he spilled his seed in me. After he pulled out, I collapsed on my stomach out of exhaustion. I lay still until I heard his footsteps wandering off into the bathroom. A moment later the familiar sound of the shower alerted me that it is my cue.

I sat up and reached for my phone which I hide at the bottom of the laundry basket near the bathroom door. He took the other phone away after a jealous fit. I got a new one and I haven't told him.

I have two missed calls from an unknown number.

I also have one unread message.

Unknown:

It's Nick. Can we meet? You have my jacket and there are some things I left in there that I need. I left them in the inner pocket.

I read that message repeatedly like it should have meant something else.

Me:

Good morning Mr. Bale, sure I'll meet you. Just text me the address.

After I sent the message I went through my closet checking if the black jacket is still there. I hid it to keep Jason from throwing a fit. When I got home from the party, I did not realize I was still wearing it. It was when I walked pasta a mirror that I saw it and I took it off quickly.

I am trying to pick a dress to wear. I can't bring myself to decide if I am dressing for the meeting or for him. But when my eyes settled on a sleeveless turtle neck royal blue sun dress, I got my answer. For him.

"Going somewhere?" Jason caught me off-guard.

I quickly returned the dress back in the rack and pulled out a dull beige one instead.

"Yeah! Grocery shopping and some errands for my mother." I lied.

"Be back by four in the evening so that we can try again."

I dread sex thanks to Jason making it more of a chore than an intimate pleasurable moment shared between a man and a woman in love with each other. When will I experience that? When? Will I ever? But we aren't in love and I should not expect it. Maybe pleasure isn't something I deserve if I can't even get pregnant.

"I'll be here." I assured him though I would prefer watching paint dry.

He got dressed and after he was done, he reached into my closet pulling out the jacket I thought I had cleverly hidden.

"Armani. Even I don't own this kind of luxury. Who does this belong to?"

"Keith." I led yet again. I am not keen on lies but today I am on a roll.

He went through the pockets but he found nothing. I hid the contents separately. He hurled the expensive jacket aside taking hold of my jaw. "This is not Keith's! Do you know how I know? Your brother is a gambler. He would have sold it already!" His grip on my jaw tightened. "Are you a whore now?"

"No."

"Then what is another man's jacket doing in my bedroom?" It looks really bad but what can I tell him? "Who does it belong to?" He growled.

I broke from his hold but he took my neck instead. "Jason, please."

"I'll teach you not to bring men into my house!" A heavy slap descended on my cheek.

I fell to my knees and while I was down he kicked me. This isn't new. It happens every time he is jealous. As if things couldn't get worse a text message caused my phone to vibrate.

He picked it up from the closet floor behind some boxes. Part of me is glad I never saved Mr. Bale's number. "I can't wait to see you?" He read it. "Who is this? Who are you seeing?"

"Jason, it's not what you think."

"And how would you know what I'm thinking?" He asked me dropping my phone and smashing it under his boot.

That same boot descended on me like I am some sort of a bug. I brought my knees to my chest and bent my head to meet them to protect my vital organs from the brutal onslaught that followed.

He beat me up to his fill. I took it all in quietly until it stopped. Without saying a word to me, he left. I find that not fighting back makes him give up. Maybe this is the universe saying something to me. Mr. Bale is married. I am married. It won't be wise to meet him. Things are getting blurry between us. But is there something wrong with me for feeling suddenly attracted to a man better than my husband?

I stood up with difficulty after giving myself a few minutes. I can't even cry. I have done enough of that and nothing ever changes.

I picked up my phone. It is completely damaged. I will have to call him but not fro the phone in the house because Jason calls back every number I call. I will meet Nick as we agreed.

I have nothing to lose by meeting him.