BLIND: A Mastermind Novel (2 page)

Chapter One

The Letter

Three months prior…

Condom or no condom? Scarlet moved the little foil square back into her purse as she held the phone to her ear and fussed with her appearance. Leaning into her reflection, she noticed yet another cluster of freckles on her nose.

“You’ll have a great time, Lettie,” Nicole, her best friend and matchmaker extraordinaire rattled on as she continued to prepare for yet another blind date. “Drew’s a great guy.”

Scarlet huffed and grimaced at the mirror. Glancing at her purse, she paused then quickly removed the condom from her purse and stuffed it in the drawer of the hall table.
Better.

“Well, I’m pretty sure you’ve fixed me up with every eligible bachelor in the tri-state area, so process of elimination tells me we have to be getting closer.”

“Ex-
actly
. Now, what kind of underwear are you wearing? Please tell me they’re not cotton with daisies on them or something.”

She stilled and frowned. Dashing into her bedroom she shucked her bottoms and tossed her underwear in the corner. “
No.
I’m wearing panties.”
Besides, they had roses, not daisies.
She fumbled in her underwear drawer and found something akin to dental floss. Sliding them up her thighs, she winced as the sling of narrow fabric wedged between her ass cheeks.

This was what some women preferred? Impossible.

“Good. Drew can be a very sensual man, from what I hear.”

Her hand stilled on her zipper. “Wait, how did you hear that?”

“Boys talk. Matt tells me things.”

“Oh. Right.” She returned to the hall table and retrieved the condom, stuffing it deep into her purse. Better safe than sorry.

“Now, don’t be nervous. He’s really easy to talk to so you won’t have to worry about filling any awkward moments of silence.”

Taking a deep breath, she sniffed and frowned. Scenting her hands and hair, she inspected her fragrance. Would it always be this much work? Gah, she hated all this primping. Racing to the bathroom she washed her wrists, worried her perfume was a bit strong. For someone who didn’t wear perfume regularly, even a spritz came off as pungent.

“And remember, play hard to get. Go back to his place if he asks, but don’t go all the way. Leave him wanting more.”

“Right. Wanting more.” Back at her purse she unearthed the condom and tossed it on the table then froze. That was easy advice for someone having sex regularly.

Lights drifted across the front windows and her heart lurched. “Shit. I think he’s here, Nicole. I gotta go!”

“Okay,” her friend said, immediately falling into rapid speech. “Have fun and try to relax. It’s okay to take risks sometimes, Lettie. Don’t sweat the small stuff and just—for once—keep an open mind and enjoy yourself without over thinking.”

Blowing off the slight insult to her analytical and methodical personality, she humored her friend. “Got it. Bye.”

“Call me when you get home!” Nicole shouted as she ended the call.

Scarlet raced to the bathroom and whipped open the cabinet, shoving the box of tampons aside and reaching into the next box, removing a fist full of condoms. There was nothing wrong with being selective, but hey, if she did
n’
t have sex again soon she feared her lady parts might fall off.

She stuffed the condoms in her purse and frowned when it would
n’
t zipper. A knock sounded from the door and she panicked, taking a handful off the top and tossing them in the bathroom drawer. Four should be enough. Did people have sex four times in a night? She rolled her eyes. Not in her life.

Forcing out a slow breath, she shouldered her bag and answered the door. “Hi.” Oh, he
was
attractive.

“Hi.” He smiled and held out a hand. “I’m Drew.”

****

When will this torture end?

If she didn’t get out of this moving car in the next thirty seconds she was going to throw herself onto the asphalt rushing by. Back stiff, gaze fastened to the dark world outside, Scarlet clenched her teeth, praying she’d be home soon.

Kaleidoscopes of flashing lights swirled in her gaze as street lights passed with the oncoming traffic. Envy filled her for every pedestrian they zipped by, as she lamented the time it would take to get home. Drew was yet another disappointment.

Nicole had prematurely promised, yet again, that this one was the man of Scarlet’s dreams. Sometimes it seemed her single life bothered Nicole more than it bothered her.

Drew was successful, didn’t live with his mother or in his sister’s basement, owned his own car, wasn’t married, and wasn’t attracted to men. These were basic requirements that—as she approached her thirties—became more impossible to find.

Nicole had Drew’s credentials right, but as far as being the man of her dreams…No, not by a long shot. Drew was more like the man of her nightmares.

Every sentence he spoke started with
I
or ended with
me.
How he didn’t have a permanent palm shaped imprint on his jacket from patting his own back was beyond her. Sitting through an evening with Drew was like witnessing a form of egocentric masturbation as he stroked his inflated ego. She’d never seen a man so in love with himself. It was perverted.

Not once had he asked about
her
. Never did he broach the topic of her career as a middle school teacher or ask her about where she’d grown up. Everything was about
him.

Sure, she wasn’t the most fascinating date, but she at least understood a conversation required two people, and the volleying back and forth of opinions and thoughts. Not Drew. He barely took a breath in his declaration of personal greatness to let her grunt a reply. It was as if she were invisible, a feeling she loathed and experienced all too often.

Throughout dinner she’d sipped her wine to smother her growls of frustration. A headache was in full affect by the first course. She mentally made a list of things less painful than their conversation; Chinese water torture; a manicure with a machete; having her eye against a glory hole; anything was better than what she’d endured.

As she consumed half a bottle of red, she casually phased out his self-important blathering and plotted her friend’s execution. What had Nicole been thinking, setting her up with this narcissist?

As Drew pulled the car into her driveway—
finally—
she released a breath she’d been holding in with clenched teeth for the last half-mile. Her hand went to the door as she unlatched her seatbelt and made to escape, uttering a quick thank you—
of course—
interrupted by her insensitive date.

“I had a good time tonight, Scarlet.”

I bet you did, you pompous know-it-all.
“The restaurant was nice.
”
There was no way she was paying him a compliment. She was shocked he even recalled her name.

“I can call you tomorrow.”

Get out of the car.
“I have a lot going on over the next couple weeks. Conferences and report cards are just around the corner.”

His brow crinkled with confusion. “Conferences?”

My God, you are such a dickhead!
“I guess Nicole didn’t tell you I’m a teacher.
”
Would have told you myself if you ever stopped talking and gave me a split second to participate in the conversation.

“Oh, yeah. She might have mentioned something about that. I forgot.”

Her hand tightened on the handle, loosening the gears and popping the door open an inch. “Well, thanks for dinner.
”
Her foot touched the pavement.

“I don’t have your number.”

So close!
Shutting her eyes on a sigh and counting silently to ten, she turned to face him. She wasn’t a bitch, she was actually a very nice person, but she also wasn’t a masochist and this entire evening had been absolute torture.

“Listen, Drew, I know we have a mutual friend, but that’s all I see this being.”

“You…don’t want to go out again?
”
If she listened closely, she might hear the faint blubbing sound of his ego deflating. Like an inflated blimp going down, she imagined people screaming in the shadows of its enormous wake.

“I’m afraid you aren’t what I’m looking for. I’m sorry.
”
And she was sorry. The journey to find someone who fit her personality was daunting and depressing and each time she failed, it hurt a bit more.

His confusion contorted to disbelief. “Seriously?”

Easy, tiger.
Forcing her expression to remain calm, she breathed. “My life’s pretty busy and as much as I appreciate you taking me out tonight, I don’t think we’re as compatible as Nicole hoped.”

He scoffed, reminding her of the assholes from college that made up the arrogant fraternity across from her apartment. “Your loss.
”
His body pivoted in the seat, fingers gripping the steering wheel, as his glare drilled into the windshield.

Right. Time to go.
Muttering a quick, “Okay, then.
”
She climbed out and gently shut the door. He nearly took off her toe as he sped out of her driveway and whipped the car, into drive.

Rolling her eyes, she dug out her key. “Moron.”

Once inside, she tossed her clutch on the table, rolled her eyes at the condoms scattered on the surface, which had a better chance of expiring than being used, and kicked off her heels. Her fingers plucked the clip from her hair and massaged her aching scalp. Thank God
that
was over.

Her phone chirped. Ah, there was her dear friend. Right on time. Sliding her thumb over the screen, she read Nicole’s text.

How’s it going? Call me when you get home IF you go home *wink*

A hiccup of disbelief slipped past her lips. It was as if she’d gone out with a different Drew. Thumbing the call back command, she waited for Nicole to pick up.

“You are
not home
already!
”
her friend answered.

“Looks that way.”

“Scarlet, what happened? It’s not even nine o’clock.”

Nosing through the freezer, she selected one of the partially eaten pints of strawberry ice cream and peeled back the lid. “What happened was thirty years ago a man named Drew Archer was born and the continents shifted under the bulk of his ego. The guy’s a complete narcissist, Nicole.”

“No, he’s not.
”
She tsked and let out a whine ringing with disappointment. “You didn’t give him a chance.”

“I gave him two hours of my life I’ll never get back. That’s all the chance I can afford.”

“Lettie, if you don’t broaden your horizons you’re never going to find Mr. Right.”

“This has nothing to do with broadening my horizons. He was, without a doubt, Mr. Wrong.”

“Why? He’s straight, independent, never been married—”