by Dani Wade
“You’ve done very well for yourself—and in the best way possible. The only complaint I could find out about your company, or you for that matter, is that it isn’t very child friendly.”
“It’s a business.” Not a day care. But, for once, he kept that part to himself.
“I get that,” Don conceded. “And a better understanding of a healthy work environment and happy employees will come to you with more life experience—but it’s not a concern for us when it comes to doing business with you.”
The proposal.
Don continued, “I’ll be honest. I was skeptical at first. You see, we believe business should have a soul.”
Royce shot his host a questioning look. The phrase sounded vaguely familiar. Royce wondered if it was something he’d read on Don’s company website.
Luckily, Don was willing to enlighten him. “We believe that all of our business efforts should be done with our fellow man in mind wherever possible—helping take care of those who can’t, keeping the environment stable and as unharmed by our work as possible, providing safe working conditions—and by extension, creating better living conditions for those who can’t afford to do that for themselves.”
Okay, this sounded familiar. The Jeffersons’ company was known for its environmental stewardship and humanitarian working policies, in addition to its philanthropic efforts.
“When you first applied,” Don continued, “I didn’t believe this was a philosophy you readily embraced, despite your own efforts to make your shipping company as environmentally friendly as possible. Don’t get me wrong—you’ve accomplished incredible things at a very young age.”
Don grinned at Royce. “I can say that from my very advanced age and not sound Scroogy.
“Then I found out about your work with Jasmine. I know you have a charity event you are planning together. One we are much looking forward to, by the way. Sounds exciting.”
Royce relaxed—a little. “Isn’t anything Jasmine plans exciting?”
“Just about...” Don smiled. “She’s an incredibly talented woman.”
That was an understatement. Royce had learned more about the hidden depths of Jasmine Harden than he’d ever dreamed he would. She was smart, sexy, bold yet gracious, tenacious and amusing. And the first woman he’d ever wanted to stick around for longer than a night.
“My concern might sound a little old-fashioned. But I would never presume to insist that you marry her or stay with her. That’s not anybody’s place,” Don conceded.
Royce acknowledged the sentiment with a nod.
“But she doesn’t have a father present, and Marilyn and I are friends of hers, so I do feel a bit of a responsibility to request that you treat her decently. That’s all any of us can expect.”
“It’s what any woman deserves,” Royce said tightly, thinking of the man in the other room.
Don’s nod was slow, almost contemplative. But Royce sensed it had nothing to do with studying him to get more inside information. Instead, the wisdom in Don’s mature gaze told Royce he had more than an inkling about the hardships and poverty he’d suffered as a child...and why.
“I agree,” Don finally said. “I’m glad to know we’re on the same page.”
* * *
Jasmine realized she was in for it when Marilyn smiled her way and asked, “So, Royce Brazier, huh?”
The older woman nodded sagely when Jasmine didn’t answer right away. Instead she snagged them each a pretty mimosa off a passing waiter’s tray. Jasmine sipped, grateful to have something to occupy her.
Under normal circumstances, she had no problem talking with Marilyn. They could cover a wide range of subjects without running out of steam. This time, she tried to act cool, but the blood rushed to her cheeks, anyway. She’d never discussed Royce like this outside of her family—and at home she was mainly deflecting her sisters’ teasing.
His father standing across the room made her even more uncomfortable. She twisted the emerald ring round and round her finger until Marilyn laid a hand over hers. Jasmine met the older woman’s understanding gaze.
“How did you know?” she asked.
Marilyn’s expression showed delight that she’d guessed correctly. “I have a feeling about people. He isn’t the first male client you’ve brought to our little get-togethers, but he’s the first one you’ve looked at like that. Or who has looked at you the same way.”
Suddenly Jasmine’s mouth felt like a desert. She took a quick sip of the fizzy drink. “Like what?” she asked, almost afraid of the answer. So far, there’d been no one to see her with Royce except her sisters. And they were biased.
“Like he discovered a diamond in the midst of his sandbox. I remember.” She leaned her head a little closer to confide, “Don looked at me that way, too.”
“Really?”
Marilyn raised her glass. “I was his secretary,” she said, then took a drink.
“No,” Jasmine breathed. Somehow, she’d never thought to ask how Marilyn and Don had met. She’d just assumed Marilyn came from an upper-class family that wasn’t from around here.
“Oh, yes, sweetheart. I married way above my class, which ended up being the scandal of the year. No one would mention it now, but they weren’t afraid to criticize then. To Don’s face, no less.”
“I can’t imagine.” Jasmine felt privileged Marilyn was actually bringing up something this personal. “That must have been incredibly difficult.”
“Don wasn’t as powerful then—but he also wasn’t as diplomatic. Or patient.” Her smile was gracious, knowing. “People aren’t quick to learn, you know. And Don doesn’t enjoy repeating himself.”
Jasmine doubted Royce would jeopardize his client relations to defend her like that, though she knew he wouldn’t allow others to be disrespectful. She had no idea where his happy medium would be between the two stances—and had no desire to find out.
As if on cue, Royce’s father appeared beside Marilyn. He wasn’t as tall as his son, but their bearing was the same. Straight spine. Squared shoulders. Royce always looked as if he were bracing himself against whatever the world dared throw at him. His biological father looked like he knew what was coming and was prepared to take the hit. The gray creeping into his sandy hair reinforced the impression.
John Nave greeted them both but his eyes were trained on Jasmine. She shivered. Therein lay a key difference between the two men. Royce might be focused on his business, but his expression was still open. His father’s was cold and closed down tight, not letting even a glimpse of emotion through. It was as if he evaluated her solely on what she was capable of providing him—and didn’t care one bit about her as a person.
She’d never done business with Royce’s father. And she hoped she never did.
One look at Marilyn and she knew her friend was aware of who he was—and possibly the story behind his connection to Royce. But Marilyn’s smile as she turned to him was perfectly polite and diplomatic. “Mr. Nave, I’m surprised to see you here.”
“These little get-togethers are good for business,” he said, not bothering to look in Marilyn’s direction. “Right, sweetheart?”
Shock shot through Jasmine. “Excuse me?”
“I said—”
“I heard what you said.” Jasmine tightened the hand at her side into a fist, hoping it would help steady her...and her voice. “My name is Jasmine.”
As if he didn’t already know that. He nodded slowly, continuing to study her.
Jasmine glanced at her friend, who had let a frown break through her polite mask. Before she could say anything, John spoke again.
“There are also a lot of different kinds of distractions at these parties. Which are you?”
Okay, this was a bit much. She’d dealt with the public since she was a teenager and wasn’t about to be walked all ov
er—no matter who he was. She gifted them both with the sweetest smile she could muster. “I think distraction is good for you every now and again.”
His eyebrow shot up, vaguely reminiscent of Royce when he was being obnoxious. “Not if you want to achieve success.”
“Depends on the type of success you’re aiming for,” she countered.
“Very well put,” Don said, as he and Royce joined them. Jasmine had been so focused on John that she hadn’t noticed their approach. “I couldn’t agree with you more, sweet Jasmine.”
The endearment sounded so much nicer like that.
Don gave her a direct smile and an encouraging look. “I’ve always maintained that your intelligence is way above average—just like my dear Marilyn’s.”
Don stepped through the middle of their little gathering to gift his wife with a kiss. Jasmine was relieved to have a break from John’s stare, though her tension was still through the roof.
“Darling, the caterer was looking for you,” Don said. “Shall we?”
Marilyn nodded, smiling her goodbyes as Don settled her hand in the crook of his arm and led her away. Jasmine couldn’t help but notice Marilyn didn’t glance toward John. She was probably afraid she’d stick her tongue out at him.
Jasmine wanted to flip him the bird.
After the Jeffersons left them, Jasmine noticed that John had turned his stare toward his son. “I’m disappointed in you, Royce.”
Heaven forbid we should make polite, pleasant conversation...
Royce wasn’t daunted, though. He cocked his head to the side, looking down at the older man. “I’m not sure why you’re bothering to think of me at all.”
“As my only progeny, you’d be surprised how often you come to mind. Though I’m disappointed after our last meeting.”
“Why?”
John shifted his gaze to Jasmine for only a moment. She could feel her thunderous emotions start to play out in her expression.
“I see you didn’t take my advice.”
“This is beginning to feel a little surreal,” Royce said with a quick look around. “This conversation makes no sense whatsoever. Since when have I ever listened to anything you’ve said to me, on the rare occasions when you’ve said anything? Why would I start now?”
John shrugged, not seeming the least offended. “I’ve always hoped my genes would prevail.”
“I believe the better genes did. My mother’s.”
Hear, hear.
“You can go so much farther, even farther than me, if you remain unattached. I mean, she’s pretty,” John said with a lazy gesture in Jasmine’s direction. “And I’m not saying they aren’t fun to play with...”
“Wow.” Jasmine was amazed at the scene playing out in front of her...with her as the object of attention. Or, rather, derision. And she was done being a passive bystander. “Royce, let me say I agree with you. The better genes do prevail in you.”
His father turned his hard gaze her way once more, but she wasn’t backing down.
“It’s a good thing your opinion doesn’t count. At least, not for long.”
Royce stepped forward, crowding into John’s space. “Actually, her opinion counts for a whole lot more than yours—and it always will.”
Fifteen
Anger pushed Royce to drive mindlessly. He sped out of the Jeffersons’ long drive with a little more acceleration than was necessary. But the squeal of the tires on the asphalt gave him a brief moment of satisfaction.
He remained silent, teeth clenched, because if he spoke, the rage of years past might spew out on someone who didn’t deserve it. So he locked himself down tight, his fists clenched around the wheel. His gaze was narrowed, focused solely on the road before him.
Only when they got to the parking garage of his building and he opened her car door did he tune in Jasmine. Her stillness. Her silence.
I’m not the only one involved.
He’d forgotten. It had been years since he’d had to worry about a woman’s feelings, a woman’s reactions. He remembered how his mother had internalized everything, taking the burden of whatever they’d endured onto herself as if she simply deserved it.
Jasmine certainly hadn’t taken anything his father had dished out passively, though she’d maintained her ladylike demeanor better than his father had deserved. Now she sat looking up at him from the passenger seat, but she made no move to exit. Her posture was almost expectant, but his mind wasn’t in a place to comprehend what she was waiting for.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“I’ve been wondering if it was safe to ask you that.”
As if realizing he was losing patience, she got out of the car but lagged behind as he strode toward the elevator.
“What?” He winced when his voice echoed off the brick and concrete walls of the garage, and he heard just how impatient he sounded.
“Do you really want me here?” she asked.
Her confusion and the lost note in her voice were finally breaking through his self-absorption. He softened his tone. “Unless you don’t want to be here. I can’t stop you from leaving, Jasmine.”
“You already have.”
Royce glanced around in confusion. “What?”
“My car isn’t here,” she pointed out, exaggerating her enunciation, probably hoping he’d catch on.
That’s when he remembered picking her up at her house. He squeezed his eyes closed and cursed under his breath. How had he let that man get so far under his skin?
Jasmine.
Royce opened his eyes and looked at her expression, which was now slightly amused. Though he could still detect some concern lingering around the edges.
This was why he’d gotten so upset. So angry.
Royce had become immune to his father’s reprimands and insults throughout the years, though his conversations with his father were few and far between.
Just the way he liked it.
So this anger wasn’t about him. More than anything, Royce didn’t want Jasmine hurt by his father. He didn’t even want her touched by anything his father said or did.
Now he understood why his mom hadn’t fought very hard. It wasn’t like she’d had a lot of options. Certainly no lawyer in town had been willing to let her set foot in their firm.
Officially, it had always been her word against his father’s. Those close to the situation had known the truth. But his mother simply hadn’t wanted to be in the same room with the man who could treat her so disrespectfully after she’d served her purpose. The man who would threaten her and her son so he didn’t have to part with the paltry sum it would have taken to lift their lives above poverty level.
Better to cut that person from her life than to allow him to destroy her, piece by piece, over years of contact.
That hadn’t been an option for Royce, if he wanted to be any kind of businessman in Savannah. But he’d done his best to ignore John over the years. John seemed to prefer it that way, too. Now it seemed his father had taken some kind of interest in him.
Royce refused to let that dictate anything about who he was or his actions.
Reaching out, he took Jasmine’s hand in his. But he just stood there. He didn’t rush upstairs. Instead, he let his eyes close once more and let the early summer breeze carry her scent to him. When he opened his eyes and his gaze found her face, he took in how she was patiently waiting. He offered a sheepish smile.
“Would you like to come up for a while?”
“Only if that’s where you want me.”
Silly woman. “I can’t think of anything I want more right now.”
“Me, either.”
That’s when he noticed the slight strain in her smile, the tightness around her eyes. Their encounter with his father had affected her almost as much as
it had him.
But he waited until much later, when he held her tight against him in his bed, to ask, “What did he say to you before I showed up?”
The delicious lassitude that fitted her perfectly to his side drained away. He felt her body stiffen, though she didn’t retreat from him. “Honestly, I’m doing my best to forget. Let’s just say, your dad is very much a sexist pig.”
“First of all, he isn’t my dad. He’s the sperm donor.”
His tone was light, and sure enough, she laughed. Unfortunately, the sentiment came straight from his heart.
“Second of all, it amazes me how he knew anyone willing to bring him. As you can tell, he isn’t the most personable of people. But money talks.”
“It must, because I can’t imagine how that man ever got married.” A shiver shook her body.
Royce hugged her closer. “I agree. Although, from the rumors I’ve heard, she’s just as cold.”
“Then why bother? I don’t understand.”
Neither did Royce. “It’s marriage as a business merger. They’re the perfect example.”
“An example of what not to do,” Jasmine murmured.
“I guess it works for them.” He shrugged. “I’d rather be alone than endure something that emotionless.”
She patted his chest. “That’s because you actually have a heart...and human emotions.”
“I know a few people who wouldn’t agree with you,” he said with a chuckle.
“I might not have agreed with me a month ago.”
“And I wouldn’t blame you for your assessment.”
She snuggled closer. Her breath was warm across his skin. She was silent for so long that he began to wonder if she’d fallen asleep. Then she whispered, “So why be that way?”
It’s safe. There was no way he was offering that explanation. Not even to Jasmine. Instead, he said, “It’s what I know.”
* * *
“What do I wear to the ball? Cinderella’s eternal question shared by women everywhere.”
Jasmine glared at her little sister as she walked past, her arms overflowing with formal dresses. Ivy’s words made Jasmine even more stressed. The store owner helped Ivy arrange her potential choices on a rack before she headed down the hall to a dressing room. Jasmine’s arms were still empty.