The Masked Bride

By Liberty Blake

Paige Chandler has one more job to do for her employer before she becomes unemployed. Gone are her pedestrian work clothes in favor of flashy dresses and thigh high boots. She is no longer a nanny, but a double for Breezy, the Queen of Rock.

Brent Carmichael is an award winning journalist and heir apparent to his uncle the Tabloid King. He is drawn to the beauty walking through the airport long before he realizes who she is. A recent scandal is still fresh on everyone’s lips, and he knows there is a story there. The reporter in him urges him to pursue it. The man in him wants to pursue the woman.

Hidden identities and palpable passions run wild in the Big Easy. Should he show her his hand, or will he lay down a bet on The Masked Bride?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Liberty Blake
• Release date: Jan 2, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370567164

Book preview

1

Paige Chandler stumbled over nothing on the concourse of Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport. She righted herself, looked around as casually as she could, and with a great show of embarrassment, didn’t meet anyone’s eyes .

She had already been spotted, so she really hoped the clumsy move would attract the notice of the rest of the paparazzi who hung out at the major airport in the hopes of capturing images of travel weary stars not at their best.

Paige wasn’t a star, but she sure was dressed like one in a clinging mummy wrap a top designer laughingly called a dress. She’d seen baby dresses with more material in them. It didn’t cover much, but since Paige’s objective was to catch the eye and the attention of the gutter media, the skimpy outfit, the teetering platform heels, the heavily made-up face, and the purposely ungraceful move should do the trick.

Between the make-up, the false nose and chin, and the long blonde hair, her own mother wouldn’t recognize her. To the world she looked like Breezy, the lead singer of the superstar rock band the Mangy Mutts.

All she had to do was be as ostentatious as possible, while appearing to be trying to hide her identity. She could only hope her act was good enough to get the imbeciles to follow her and her luggage to the hotel. She had planned to get checked in and sleep for a week, but now that she had been spotted she would have to make the rounds of the French Quarter night spots. She would have to be seen and photographed. With any luck her antics would be all over SBS (Show Biz Scandals) twenty-four hours a day.

Once she knew Nollie and the kids were safe she would mourn the loss of Harper, Atticus, and Elijah and the dream job she had held as nanny, bodyguard, and rock star impersonator. Until then, she would do her best to be Breezy in the Big Easy.

After Breezy was firmly established as being there to party, Paige would lose the persona and go back to being just Paige Chandler, a nanny without her charges. One of the other doubles would become Breezy wherever they had been sent and she would take a long vacation while she decided what she was going to do with the rest of her life.

What do nannies without charges do?

She had many options—thanks to the to the generous salary she had saved over the past four years and the severance package Magnolia had insisted on giving her, Paige had enough money in the bank to be comfortable for the rest of her life. If she didn’t mind living a quiet life she wouldn’t have to work another day . . . after this gig was up.

But a day without a child on her lap . . .

No little person to hug or read to or console over a major booboo only he or she could see.

Just the thought of a day without a child to care for left her feeling incomplete.

That wasn’t how she wanted to live the rest of her life. She had always been surrounded by babies. She loved holding babies the way a politician loved piling up voters at the polls. Maybe she would open a daycare or take in foster children. She needed someone to care for.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the whirring clicks and the blinding flash of a camera pointed at her. Her body started to do a victory clench, but before any of the money grubbing photogs in front of her caught the move, she quickly made a half turn and pulled the huge sunglasses down off the top of her head to hide half her face.

The plan was working, but she never had any doubts that it would. She had played Breezy enough times in the past to know how easy it was to fool the press, as long as the Breezy stuck to Nollie’s rules. It was more important now than ever before. The longer she and the other doubles could fool the paparazzi the better chance Nollie and the kids had of finding a safe sanctuary.

A helpful skycap ushered her into a waiting limousine. Paige looked at his nametag. Thank you, Walter. Do you have any children? she asked as she handed him a folded hundred.

Yes, mam, I have five. My girls are gonna be real excited when I tell them I met you today. His white smile was magnificent in his dark face.

"Those vultures are going to pester you for where I’m going. You can tell them, but make sure they pay you—a lot—before you do. They’re going to find out anyway and since they are going to make a lot of money selling the pictures and fiction they’re going to write, you should be able to profit from it as well. Use it to take your kids on a family vacation."

Paige made sure to flash a lot of leg when she slid into the car, but she was very careful not to provide the soul-eaters with a crotch shot. Besides being a personal violation, it was one of Nollie’s no-nos.

The women who got to party under the name of Breezy could have a good time, they could even take lovers, although one night stands were preferred over anything lasting more than a week, but they were not to get drunk or drugged out. If you kept control over yourself you wouldn’t give away the family secrets. And you never gave away any secrets, no matter if it was to your own mother or father, a lover, or the paps.

When you worked for Magnolia Brisland you were part of her family and that was where your loyalty stayed. In return for your loyalty you were well paid, protected, and loved.

Brent Carmichael had seen a lot of attention seekers in his life, but none of them as blatant as Breezy, the conceited rock chick who had no last name. True she was more popular than Mad Dog, the late great lead singer of the Mangy Mutts, but the broad had just cancelled her entire South American tour and turned up in New Orleans, leaving her band floundering and her chief of security languishing in a Mexican prison. It wasn’t the first time she had pulled a runner in the middle of the tour, but leaving people behind to languish in a foreign prison was new .

The Mexican authorities had a lot of unanswered questions, and anyone with half a brain would be lying low, but not this flake. Instead she flew into New Orleans in time for Mardi Gras.

Celebrities didn’t go to Mardi Gras to hide, they went to be seen.

Brent had to leave his own job midstream due to his uncle’s heart attack. The news the old guy had a heart had surprised the entire family. Now because of the family emergency the story he had researched, developed, and fought tooth and nail to get was being reassigned. The network was sending one of their pretty girls to Africa in his place. The girls had been hired to boost network ratings, and he was now stuck running the tabloid empire the old coot had built.

Brent would have loved to tell them all to take a flying leap, but there were too many employees depending on him holding the house of cards together, and he really did hope to go back to his own job soon. He couldn’t afford to go out in an explosive blaze.

He watched Breezy traipse through the crowded airport before getting into a black limo. He wondered where she was staying. He’d have to make sure his uncle’s cameras were there before anyone else’s.

Half the vultures that proclaimed themselves paparazzi climbed onto motorcycles or into Jeeps and followed the limousine out of the parkway, nearly taking out any innocent civilians who crossed their paths. The other half converged onto the skycap and tried to browbeat her destination out of the poor schmuck.

Any fool with eyes would have seen the woman slip the man a bill—obviously it was large enough to buy her some loyalty from the guy. Pushing his duffle through the crowd, Brent approached the skycap.

Unless you just hit the lottery, I would appreciate some help here. I need a cab. Brent purposely made his tone brusque.

Yes, sir. Right away. The man pushed his way through the crowd and hurried toward the doors where he signaled for a taxi. One pulled right up to the curb and the skycap opened the door for Brent.

Where was the lady going? Brent asked the skycap and watched the man’s black eyes harden. He handed the skycap his bag to place in the cab while his other hand pulled a wad of bills out of his pocket. He peeled off a hundred and watched the man’s eyes widen greedily, but he didn’t reach for the money, so Brent peeled off another hundred.

The guy was a hard nut—he didn’t crack. He didn’t say a word until Brent held ten hundreds. The guy was no fool. He took the money before he answered.

She went to a boutique hotel on Canal.

When he saw the smirk on the skycaps face, Brent knew he had been had, but what the hell—his uncle had billions. Brent only cared where Breezy was going for the good of his uncle’s paper. It had nothing to do with that gorgeous set of gams the skimpy dress gave him an incredible view of.

2

It had been a very long night and an even longer morning, but Paige knew she had to stay in make-up and character for the entire day and into the wee hours of the next morning. This was New Orleans and Mardi Gras was right around the corner. The parades and parties had already begun. It would be stupid not to capitalize on the party atmosphere. She had to get Breezy’s face out there and her name on everyone’s lips. There might be a few blips and other Breezy sightings while the other girls got into place, but for now, she was Breezy and she had to maintain the public persona for as long as possible. They had hoped she would be able to get to the hotel and have a few hours to prepare, but as soon as she saw the first paparazzi heading her way she knew she had to go right into action. The children’s safety depended on her being able to carry this masquerade off .

Sorry, lass. We should have arrived incognito. You need a day or two to recover before going into full Breezy mode. Her bodyguard stood in the doorway to her bedroom. His burr reminded her she was not in this alone.

It’s probably just as well, Angus. The sooner the world knows Breezy is here, the easier it will be for the other girls to get into position.

Angus’s guffaw echoed around the suite as he headed for his own room.

Paige unpacked her bags and took a careful appraisal of the contents. She had enough to maintain her masquerade for a week—maybe a little longer if she could stretch things out. Her skin would take a month to heal after the gig was up, but it was worth it. When her time in the spotlight was over, there were five other Breezys waiting in the wings. They all enjoyed their superstar moments—no other nannying job offered such great perks—but not everyone could carry it off for more than a few hours. Paige was the best at it. That was why she was chosen to go first. She could maintain the pretense for long periods while the others were best at the charade for the short haul.

The nannies were good mimics. They were hired for their looks as much as for their degrees in early childhood education and their strong martial arts backgrounds. The back-up singers were the worst Breezys. Since their dreams revolved around being on stage you would think they would be better at playing the part, but their own egos got in the way and usually when someone wanted to hear Breezy sing they would burst out in song. Then they were busted. They were good singers, but they were not Breezy of the phenomenal pipes. The singing should always be left to the real Breezy.

Carefully repacking the specials, she locked them in the room’s safe and walked into the bathroom to draw a bath. She would have loved a shower, but that would have guaranteed a ruined face. A nice warm bath would at least make her feel clean before she put on a skimpy Breezy dress and went in search of the perfect latte. She would need the caffeine injection to get through the rest of the day.

An hour and a half later, she stepped out of the lobby into the bright New Orleans sunshine. Back home in Michigan the streets would be piled high in white stuff, the only moisture she would have to worry about would be in the form of the stuff falling from the sky. New Orleans was undergoing a winter heat wave while in the northern parts of the country Jack Frost and his merry snow-making elves were having a grand old time. If humidity that turned hair into a mass of frizz was the price she had to pay to be warm, it was worth looking like a fuzz ball. Later she would have to spend a lot of time repairing the damage, but for now she would enjoy the warmth of a beautiful city.

B reezy! A rude man shoved a mic in her face. It didn’t take long for one of them to show up. Did he hope to make the evening television tabloids? Why’d ya cancel the tour? Whaddya doin’ in Naworleans ?

Others cameras scrambled to join him. Paige smiled and gave them all a queenly wave before her bodyguard cleared her way down the street toward the coffee house that served the caffeine boost her tired mind needed. The bath had made her clean, but it had also caused her to feel the results of several sleepless nights.

After the barista took her order, Paige handed the young man a hundred dollar bill. This should cover my entourage. She waved toward the cameras popping flashes through the windows. I’m going to sit near the door to the rest room. Take them all out coffees and I promise you and your crew another hundred each.

Thank you, the young man gushed. If you’re looking for another way out I can have one of my girls show you the door we use to take the trash out.

You’re so sweet, but I’m not trying to avoid them today. I intend to bore them to death. If the offer still holds in a day or two, I may take you up on it.

Anytime. I’ll make sure everyone on staff knows the back door is open for you anytime. He hesitated for a moment before he asked the inevitable. Would you mind taking a couple of selfies with us? We promise not to post them until after you leave town.

Paige felt like a fraud, which she was, but it was for a good cause. These poor kids worked