marble floors and wall size frescos decorating two of the walls. Four ceiling high doors lead out to a large stone terrace which overlooks the Grand Canal. Hanging from the stucco ceiling is a large crystal chandelier which provides most of the illumination in the room.
A man phases in beside Mason. I recognize him as Andre Greco. Even before I met Mason, I was able to recognize many of the Watchers who were in charge of the other nations in the world. Andre stuck out in my mind because of one thing: he was so dang pretty. Every Watcher is gorgeous but the best word to describe Andre was pretty. Not to say he didn’t look manly but his pouty full lips were shaped into a perfect stretched out heart. When you looked into his eyes it was like looking up into the brightest clear blue sky marbled with white clouds. His rectangular face was softened by perfect high cheek bones. Even though you could tell he shaved, the dark brown hair had already grown out to a short stubble accentuating his strong jaw line. His dark hair is slicked back this evening making him look very debonair.
“Glad to see you could make it, my friend,” Andre says to Mason, as they both shake hands.
“I wasn’t allowed to miss it,” Mason tells Andre, and I hear a slight grumble with the words as he lets me know he would still rather be in our hotel room.
Andre turns his full attention to me and smiles.
“You must be Jess,” he says, holding his hand out for me to shake. “Andre Greco, your host for this evening’s festivities.”
“Nice to meet you,” I tell him, firmly shaking his hand.
“Please consider my home yours while you are here,” he tells me. “There will be a parade out in the canal in a little while. I highly suggest watching it if you’ve never been to Venice during Carnival. They put on quite a show.”
“Thank you,” I tell him. “We’ll be sure to look for it.”
“As for anything else you might need, there is a table of refreshments in the room off to the right,” he says, pointing to a large set of doors which are open and lead from the ballroom to said room.
“Andre!” A woman on the other side of the room calls out, waving for him to come over to her.
“Please excuse me,” he tells us. “If you need anything, just let me know.”
Andre phases and is beside the woman requiring his attention before I can even blink.
“Since you’re forcing me to stay here,” Mason says turning to me and bowing at the waist with his hand out, “may I have the pleasure of this dance?”
I place one of my hands in his and say, “Yes, you may.”
A small string quartet is set up in one corner of the room and is providing the music for the ball. Just like at Angela’s party, I let Mason lead me around the room and find it even easier than before. A lot has happened between then and now and I guess my trust in him has grown accordingly. We dance three times in a row before I ask to stop to get something to drink.
I’m standing off to the side in front of one of the painted wall frescos. Mason is walking from the room where the refreshments are. He holds two fluted glasses filled with champagne, one in each hand. He looks over at me and I casually lick my lips. He grins almost shyly at my subtle reminder of pleasurable things to happen later that evening.
Just as Mason steps back into the ballroom, it happens.
A woman I don’t recognize dressed in a frilly blue gown wearing a glittery green mask with peacock feathers jutting out from the side stops Mason by placing one of her perfectly manicured hands on his chest. I watch as he looks down at her and before he can say anything the woman wraps her arms around Mason’s neck, stands on her tip toes and kisses him deeply, full on the mouth.
I feel my heart lurch inside my chest as I watch this strange woman have her way with my man. I feel too shocked to move and just stare, completely horrified by the scene playing out in front of me.
With his hands full,