The Magic Of Christmas (3 page)

And Logan Valliente, or rather Drake Vale as he was called now, was one part of her past that neither of her friends knew the truth about.  And Cecilia intended to keep it that way.

The same way she intended to prevent them from finding out that she was on the verge of making a monumental change in her life until after it was already done.  That way, they would be unable to talk her out of it.

Reaching out, she grasped both Amanda's and Lily's hands in hers and gave them reassuring squeezes.  "Thanks, guys.  Really.  And no, this has nothing to do with Logan.  Or Drake or whoever he is.  He doesn't matter.  It's just me.  Like I said, it's been a long semester and I think I'm just exhausted."

"After this, we'll find you a man and get you some action," Lily promised, her disposition cheering quite a bit.  "That will cure whatever is wrong in that pretty little head of yours."  Sex was Lily's answer to everything.  Amanda's too, except she was more circumspect about it.  Cecilia had never believed that sex solved anything, though it was a pleasant way to pass some cold nights.

Which rather indicated to her that maybe she had been picking the wrong men to share her bed.

"We'll see," Cecilia agreed, not really intending to go out and find a man that very night.  After all, she had just turned thirty-one.  She was too old for one-night stands.  Wasn't she?

Instead of asking her friends, who were now busy chatting with some other friends of theirs from town and whose opinions on the matter she probably already knew, Cecilia looked down at the playbill once more.

The man on the cover certainly looked like an adult version of Logan Valliente.  Or what she thought he would look like as an adult anyway.  He had the same high cheek bones and pointed chin, though all of this man's baby fat was long gone, making his face appear lean and angular, almost like a predator.  She had never seen Logan as an adult, of course, but she could imagine him looking very much like this.

In the photo, Drake was dressed in a black shirt that was open in the front, exposing a good deal of well-muscled chest.  His left hand crossed in front of him and held a glowing crystal orb of some type.  He also wore a hematite ring on his left index finger.  On his right, an intricately patterned silver band accented by a single, dark blue stone of some kind seemed to glisten, even in the photo.  He had a dusting of dark stubble on his jaw, but his hair was bleached blonde and spiked into a messy style that gave a woman thoughts of him just tumbling out of bed, looking ready for sin and sex.

It was his eyes, though, that captivated her.  They drew her in and filled her head with images of hot, sweaty nights in his embrace and making passionate love with the man until dawn.  Drake's eyes however were dark, much darker than Logan's had been.  So dark they were almost black.  And it seemed as if they were looking right through her into her very soul.

Which was, of course, ridiculous.  It was nothing more than a trick of the light and the skill of the photographer.  Since Cecilia herself wanted to quit teaching and become a professional photographer, she knew a thing or two about lighting and making a subject appear to possess qualities they really did not.  She wanted to tell stories with her camera, the way this person did.

Whoever had taken this photograph of Drake Vale had done an excellent job of making him appear every inch the playboy illusionist that he was in reality.

Except that when Cecilia looked closer, she thought she saw glimmers of something more in the image, something that, if she didn't know any better, she would almost define as sadness.

It was in the tightening at the corners of his mouth, in the way his eyes were open and yet still not trusting.  It was in the bleached hair, as if he was trying to hide who he really was.  As if he, himself, was nothing more than an illusion.

Disgusted with herself, she flopped back in her chair, the old red velvet creaking beneath her as she shifted and bringing her swiftly back to reality.

This happened all the time.  She would see an image and her imagination would take flight, often concocting ridiculous stories about people and places she knew nothing about.  It was something she had done as a child and, for whatever reason, she had never really outgrown the habit.  That was probably because her stories were better than her reality.  In the tales she spun from a single photograph, people could be whomever they wanted.  They weren't stuck being school teachers because it was what had been expected of them.

Looking around the now-darkening theater, Cecilia was struck by the realization that for as many people as she knew in the building, few of them truly knew her.  That included Amanda and Lily.  For as deep as their friendship ran, there were parts of her life that she had kept to herself, never letting anyone see them.  Never letting anyone in.  Except for one person.  And he, if he was even still alive, wasn't someone she would ever see again.

Just then, a statuesque blonde woman approached the small group and smiled at them.  Yet her smile didn't reach her eyes, as if she didn't want to be there.  Cecilia recognized the woman as Drake Vale's assistant from the playbill.  At first she had no idea why the woman - Cecilia thought her name was Alexandra - would be approaching them, but then she remembered reading about Vale's signature illusion.  

The illusionist would immerse himself in a tank of water while fully chained.  Then, while the water was heated from below by a slow-burning fire, he would somehow free himself and a volunteer woman from the audience who had earlier been locked into a plain black box would appear in his place, seated in a chair at the top of the tank and safely away from the boiling water.

It was the one moment in the show every woman in the audience waited for, at least according to what Cecilia had read.  Drake showed off his incredible body while some lucky woman from the audience had the rare opportunity to be in close physical contact with the notorious illusionist.  The very thought of it had woman swooning and was a large part of the reason why females overwhelmingly flocked to Drake's shows.

They all dreamed of being that woman, of interacting with Drake in some way and hopefully - and foolishly in Cecilia's opinion - snaring his attention and interest.  After all, no mere mortal female dated a man like Drake Vale.  Instead, he bedded supermodels and rock stars.  Not housewives or school teachers from Pennsylvania.

And especially not women with auburn hair, flat brown eyes and an over-abundance of curves like hers.

Before the show, Lily had been chattering on about how Drake picked brunettes or blondes.  Sometimes even flaming redheads and women with raven-hued tresses.  But never women whose hair fell into that odd category between brunette and red.  There had been studies done on it, Lily had informed them with great authority, clearly imagining herself being the woman on stage with Drake that night.

At first, the idea hadn't bothered Cecilia.  After all, she didn't much care for the spotlight.  Then, when she had seen Drake's photo, something dark and slightly jealous had risen up inside of her.  She dismissed the feeling as yet another symptom of her discontent with her life and possibly because the man reminded her of Logan Valliente, the boy she had never been able to forget no matter how hard she tried.

It was not because she was jealous of her friend's easy sexuality or the idea that Lily might be lucky enough to indulge with a man who reminded Cecilia far too much of a fantasy she had clung to for far too many years.  Certainly not.

Except that now, with Drake's assistant standing in front of them, Cecilia felt that feeling rise up again, and this time, she wasn't able to tamp it down.  Especially when Lily stood and offered the woman her hand in greeting.

"Can we help you?"  There was a sparkle in Lily's eyes, meaning she knew exactly who the woman in front of them was and was doing her best to make certain she was chosen as the volunteer.

"Yes, I believe you can."  Lily beamed at the other woman's words.  "Or rather, your friend can.  I'm Alexandra, by the way.  I'm Mr. Vale's assistant."

Lily's gaze flicked to Amanda, skipping over Cecilia completely.  After all, she had the wrong hair color.  "You mean Amanda?"  Lily obviously didn't care for the idea that her friend might snag the prize she was coveting - including the possibility of earning a spot in Drake's bed for the evening.

Alexandra shook her head.  "No.  You're other friend."  She fixed her icy blue gaze on Cecilia.  "I think you'll do nicely."  Then she paused, obviously sizing up the woman in front of her.  "You do know why I'm here, correct?"

"Ah, yes."  Cecilia rose to her feet despite her better judgment.  "Well, I do now after I read the playbill.  I'm not really into illusions and magic, to be honest.  Maybe Lily or Amanda would be better for this."  Then she reached up and touched her hair self-consciously.  "And, well, aren't I all wrong for this kind of thing?"

"My boss said auburn and," Alexandra looked around the theater, "there aren't many of you to pick from.  Especially close to the stage."

Cecilia was about to protest when she felt Amanda nudge her in the side.  "Go on, Cee.  It'll be fun.  Might perk you up a bit."  Obviously she wasn't all that upset about not being chosen.  "And God knows, you could use some cheer."

"Oh, just do it," Lily grumbled, clearly a little put out at not being selected for the illusion, but seeming to understand that Cecilia was the preferred choice.  "Manda's right.  It will be good for you.  Might even make you smile a little.  Drake is extremely easy on the eyes.  Even you have to admit that."

Putting up her hands in a gesture of surrender, Cecilia gave in.  "Fine.  What do I need to do?"

"Just go with Drake when he comes into the audience to 'select' his volunteer.  That's all.  It's easy and it's fun.  Trust me."  She shook Cecilia's hand as if to seal the deal, though it wasn't necessary.  When Cecilia agreed to something, she stuck to her promise, even if she regretted making it immediately afterwards.  Like now.  Then Alexandra glanced back over her shoulder.  "The show is starting soon.  When he comes for you, just take direction from him and it will be fine.  It always is."

Then, the sexy assistant was gone, her sparkling, sexy silver catsuit glittering in the floodlights as she disappeared behind the red velvet curtain.

Cecilia had no idea what she had just agreed to but she had little time to ponder her decision.  As soon as she sat back down, the theater lights flashed twice before slowly lowering the rest of the way, casting the audience in a dim light.

At first, she thought nothing was happening, that the show was being delayed.  Then, on one of the balconies far above the stage, a flash of light caught her eye.  Seemingly out of nowhere Drake Vale had appeared between two elderly women.  Before anyone could react, he used his natural athletic grace to vault off the balcony and then down to the stage below.

As illusions went, it wasn't spectacular, at least not from a technical point of view as far as Cecilia understood it.  However, it was in the way that the man moved, like he was sin incarnate that give the illusion its power and hold over the audience.  Every time he took a breath, the muscles in his magnificent chest moving beneath his shirt, Cecilia could almost feel the eyes of every person in the theater transfixed on Drake Vale.

Within a few minutes, Drake had them all captivated.  Women wanted to bed him and men wanted to be him.  It was then that Cecilia understood that part of magic was the person performing it.  If they had no power to captivate, then they would fail spectacularly.

But Drake Vale?  He could captivate with a glance, and a mere look became larger than life with him.  His body was thin and lithe, all sinew and muscle.  She could tell he worked hard to keep himself in shape, even with most of his clothes still on.  Which made her wonder what he would look like with them off.

Again, Cecilia felt the pull deep in her heart telling her that there was more to this man than met the eye.  The part of her that - foolishly now, in her opinion - believed that the man before her had once been known as Logan Valliente.

She was wrong.  She knew she was.  Her head told her that it was impossible.  Yet, she sat transfixed, her eyes on the stage, watching as Drake performed one amazing illusion after another.  After some time, she forgot that she didn't much care for magic.  In fact, she began to wonder why she had thought it all silly nonsense.  Then again, watching Drake was hardly a hardship.  She suspected that he could even make a dramatic reading of the phone book seem sexy.

And with each illusion he performed, Cecilia felt herself fall a little bit more in lust with the man on the stage.

Chapter Three

It was time for the grand illusion, the penultimate trick in the show.  Drake was ready, or as ready as he ever was when it came to this illusion.  He had been nervous at first when he had stepped on the Orpheum's stage.  He could admit that to himself now.

What if someone had recognized him?  What if someone remembered him from their shared past and called him out?  Revealed to the audience who he really was?

But no one had, likely because no one knew or even cared.  As far as the fine citizens of College Heights were concerned, Logan Valliente, if he was even still alive, was probably living in a trailer park somewhere, still dirty, poor and alone.  Just as he had always been.

There was a certain thrill in performing more than just his usual illusions for these people.  They also fully bought into the illusion that was his life, never guessing who he really was.  He supposed that made him a master at his craft, able to make people believe just about anything, at least as long as the lie was prettier than the truth.  It should have made him happy.  At the very least, it should have given him a little thrill at the power he held over them.  And it did.  He wouldn't have been human otherwise.