Bridge to Fruition

by Laurie Larsen

  Jasmine looked over at Dax, and he shrugged and walked to the elevator. As they rode up, he asked, “So, what’s your plan?”

  She thought for a second. “I won’t introduce myself today, even if she’s here. I’m in New York first and foremost for my job interview. I can’t get distracted from that. We’ll go to her office, check it out, and leave. Maybe before I leave tomorrow, I’ll come back. Maybe.”

  He nodded and stepped off the elevator when the door slid open. They walked to the Blair door and peeked through the glass. On the other side was a small reception area. No one sat inside. Jasmine pulled the door open.

  The walls of the waiting room were filled with framed photos of beautiful women and handsome men, smiling for the camera. In some of them, the good-looking people stood beside Crystal Blair. Jasmine studied the ones featuring her grandmother. A beautiful woman, Crystal rarely smiled. Even in the pictures where the others sported jubilant grins, her grandmother was refined and calm. Never frowning, but never one to appear particularly happy. Although Crystal and Leslie shared their looks, they did not share that particular trait. Her mom’s joyfulness was one of Jasmine’s favorite things about her.

  Dax observed the pictures too, and when she’d completed a round, a receptionist came and sat behind a desk. “May I help you?”

  Jasmine looked up, alarmed. She’d been so absorbed in her study, she hadn’t noticed her arrival. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”

  The receptionist gave her a look of confusion. “Do you have an appointment with one of the agents?”

  Jasmine shook her head.

  “Are you an actress?”

  Jasmine shook her head again.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but this is a private office. You need to either make an appointment or you need to leave.”

  Dax took Jasmine’s arm and turned her. “Our mistake. We’re in the wrong suite.”

  The receptionist looked back to the work on her desk as they made their way to the door. Without warning, Jasmine turned back. “Is Crystal Blair expected in today or tomorrow?”

  The receptionist looked back up. “Who’s asking?”

  That threw Jasmine. With no forethought to the story, she said, “I know I said I wasn’t an actress, but I am. I was wondering if Crystal Blair would represent me.”

  The receptionist frowned. “None of our agents will see you without a personal invitation. And Crystal is no longer taking on new clients. Good day.”

  Dax tugged on her arm and pulled her out the door. A few steps away, he whispered harshly, “What was that all about?”

  “I don’t know! I panicked! We should’ve had a story lined up.”

  “If you’d stuck to the plan, we wouldn’t have needed a story. You changed things mid-stream, and you drowned.”

  “I know. I’m terrible at espionage!”

  They walked back toward the hotel, hand in hand. Eventually, Jasmine’s pulse slowed to normal and she was able to enjoy the sights and sounds of the city around them.

  “I love the energy of this place. Everyone walking here and there, everyone with their own place to go, busy busy. You know, for such a big city with so many buildings and businesses, Manhattan doesn’t cover that much ground. I looked it up before we came. One point six million people live here in roughly thirty-three square miles. Of course, that doesn’t even count people like us, walking the streets, who don’t live here.”

  Dax let his head drop back as they strolled, and he looked to the top of the skyscrapers. “That’s amazing. Not my thing, necessarily. But it might be fun to live in this environment for a few years. Completely opposite from our last trip. Compare the lazy, peaceful lifestyle of Pawleys Island with this place.”

  Jasmine smiled. “Best of both worlds.”

  * * *

  Evening slipped by and they headed to their room. Dax turned on the TV and put his feet up while Jasmine slipped into the bathroom. He got absorbed in a news magazine program of a rich housewife in Texas murdered in her home. It was going to be the husband. It was always the husband.

  “Dax.”

  Her voice floated to him softly on the air. He looked up and his heart jumped into his throat. Jasmine. His Jasmine. Her hair hung in waves around her shoulders, shining like she had given it a brushing. Her skin gleamed and her lips were painted with a darker shade of pink. He stood and went to her, brought his hand up and rubbed his knuckles as gently as he could over her cheek. “You are so gorgeous, Jasmine.”

  She gave him a pleased smile and he leaned in and captured her lips. Pulling her body against him, he held her tight and concentrated on the joining of their mouths, the flip and flow of his tongue with hers. His hands wandered into her hair, and he ran his fingers through the strands. He tugged on her hair, pulling her head back slightly so he could angle in on the kiss.

  She gasped and giggled. He pulled back and looked at her face, her eyes. “Jasmine.”

  “Dax.” Her smile emerged and he felt the flush caused by his racing pulse color his face.

  The time felt right, although he couldn’t be sure. His admission could have the result of calling their amorous activity to a sudden halt. But he’d been feeling it and he could no more keep it unspoken, than he would refuse to take his next breath.

  He held her face in both hands and lifted so she was looking straight in his eyes. “Jasmine, I love you.”

  She gasped and her eyes blinked wildly, a tear visible in the corner.

  Plunging forward, he continued, “I am in love with you. You’re beautiful and talented and smart and loving. You are a woman of God and you are the answer to my prayers. You and I could build our lives together. Be together and walk through our lives together, loving each other.”

  He was just rambling now, but he couldn’t help it. The woman filled him with an uncontrollable need to tell her his feelings, to put into words the unspeakable language of emotions. He was in completely untraveled territory. He’d never told a woman he loved her before, and he’d never felt this strong a feeling for anyone. But despite that, he knew it. He recognized it. This was that emotion that so many songs had been written about, that so many movies tried to replicate. This was the real deal.

  Now, he just needed to hear a similar sentiment from her. Because he’d be brokenhearted if she didn’t return his love.

  And in her next breath, he got it. “I love you too. I do. I can’t stop thinking about you when we’re apart. I can’t wait to see you again. I can’t wait to hold your hand and touch your face. I love it when you’re next to me. With you beside me, I can do anything. We are a team, you and I. I love the idea of traveling through our lives together. And you get my desire to stay pure until my wedding day. That’s huge, Dax. You can’t know how important that is. We’re in synch. Our backgrounds are as opposite as they come. But today, we are a perfect match.”

  She stood, her chest heaving with breathlessness. His gaze roamed over her face. Then he lifted her up and carried her to the bed and placed her on top of it.

  She blinked at the sudden distance between them while he stood beside the bed. She reached out a hand, and that was all the invitation he needed. He climbed onto the bed, over her and lowered himself beside her. He wrapped his arms around her and breathed her in. She rested a hand on his abdomen and ran her fingers over the ridge of his muscles. He caught her gasp.

  They explored each other, the curves and lines of the other’s body. There was time, he reminded himself. They had endless time in their future. Keeping his mind in tune with his promise to her, balanced with his need to discover her, the hours passed.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jasmine stared into the heavily lit mirror in the hotel bathroom, putting the final touches on her eyelashes and lips. She wasn’t a big makeup user on a regular basis – just a smear of liquid foundation and a brush of powder generally did it. She was taking extra care this morning because, well, she was in New York and she was about to interview for her dream job in fashion. It just see
med the thing to do.

  Throw in the added benefit that she and Dax were now officially in love, and the morning couldn’t get any better.

  He came in behind her, looked at her reflection in the mirror and said in a low, deep voice that made her stomach feel funny, “Gorgeous.”

  She pushed him away. It was hard enough to concentrate on her interview knowing he was in the next room, warm and rumpled from their night together. Transplant the man directly behind her, his long hair still mussed from the pillow, wearing the shorts he’d determinedly kept on all night for her, along with his bare yummy chest, and there’s no way she would get out the door.

  He chuckled, left the bathroom and turned on the TV in the room.

  Jasmine sighed happily and picked up her hairbrush. Last night was one of a kind. It was passionate, it was intimate, it was loving. And yet, their amorous activity had never once crossed the line into the inappropriate. They both were committed, together, to a chaste, pure romance. And that took such a load of worry off her mind. No need for her to be the make out police, always being the one to say no and put a damper on a romantic evening. They were on track with the same goals.

  Knowing that lifted all kinds of restrictions. With Dax’s promise that he wouldn’t put her in a position of no return, their intimacy could be enjoyed and savored.

  This was not only new to her, it was new to Dax as well. There were times last night when she knew Dax had to physically remove himself from her to regain control, but he always returned, kissed her and put the brakes on.

  She was so in love.

  Turning out the light, she headed back to the room and did a runway flip for him. “Do I look all right?”

  She could count on him to give her a compliment, but what she meant was, did she look like a New York fashion designer? Or did she look like a small town girl pretending to be one? The distance between the two was vast, and could make the difference between landing the job or not.

  He rose to his feet, took her by the shoulders and landed a kiss on her forehead. “You look like you already work here.”

  Perfect. That’s what she needed to hear.

  He looked at the clock on the TV. “You’ve got over an hour. Want to grab some breakfast?”

  She picked up her leather shoulder bag containing her resume and her portfolio photos, and hugged it against her side. “Too nervous to eat.”

  His eyebrows darted up. “Get something inside you. Some fruit or a muffin or something. You might get dizzy with an empty stomach.”

  She laughed. He sounded just like her mom.

  She perked her lips and they shared a quick kiss. “I’ll grab something at a street vendor. I think I’ll walk leisurely and make sure I have plenty of time.”

  He nodded and squeezed her shoulders, then let her go. “Knock ’em dead, sweetheart. I know you can do it.” She smiled brightly at him. In unison, they said, “I love you.”

  They laughed together and Dax said, “I’m going to like saying that to you any chance I can.”

  “Keep it coming. Bye.”

  Jasmine made her way down to the hotel lobby, then out onto the street. She pulled up her phone GPS and set the verbal directions on the last destination on Fifty Fourth Street. Foot traffic was much heavier this morning than yesterday afternoon when they were out and about, so it took her longer to reach her destination.

  “You have arrived at your destination,” said the GPS and Jasmine looked around, confused. This wasn’t Henderson-Cloy. This was … oh shoot! This was Blair Talent Agency. She’d told the GPS the wrong address!

  Her first impulse was to panic. She’d sabotaged her own success today. Now she’d be late to her interview, which was never acceptable. But then she took a breath and calmed herself. She had plenty of time. She glanced at her phone. Although she’d have to book, she had purposely left lots of time to arrive at her interview and review her materials. She was fine. She would be fine.

  She glanced over at the building and ducked inside for a quiet refuge. Standing inside the lobby, she pushed buttons on her GPS app, now pulling up the proper street address. Two pretty young women walked by on their way to the elevator. A snippet of their conversation floated to her, “So excited to see Crystal today. She must’ve scheduled this for the one day a week she comes in. She said she had something for me…” and then they stepped onto the elevator.

  Jasmine turned, watching their movement, shaking her head when they’d disappeared. Crystal was coming in today. It had to be Crystal Blair. Who else would they be talking about? Curiosity overcoming her, she jumped onto the next elevator. Riding it up to the seventh floor, she walked to the office door. She peeked in and saw the two women from the elevator sitting in the waiting area, as well as several other attractive people, actor types, she assumed. It was a busy morning at Blair Talent. Probably because Crystal was making her weekly appearance.

  She debated going in and sitting down, but decided against it. What point would it serve? The nasty receptionist would most likely remember her and kick her out for loitering. She still wasn’t sold on revealing her identity to Crystal – she hadn’t put nearly enough thought into that yet, and with her mother’s admonishment that it wasn’t her mystery to solve – she wanted to honor her wishes, and stay incognito. Yet, she had an undeniable need to at least be close to the woman who shared her DNA. Listen to her voice. See her in person. Observe her interacting and make a decision about the kind of person she was. Successful, yes. She’d accomplished a lot in her lifetime. But what about her manner? The way she was with people. Was she kind? Was she horrible? These were the questions she hoped to answer while in New York.

  Time passed quickly as her mind wandered. Her imagination pulled up an extremely believable, but entirely pretend relationship between her and Crystal, one where they walked the streets of Manhattan together, attended Broadway premieres, ate at Sardi’s and wore high heeled shoes. She had no idea how long she stood there, how many minutes were eaten up with her thoughts. But when she glanced at the time, it gave her a jolt. She was late. The GPS was telling her the walk would take eighteen minutes, and now, her interview was a mere ten minutes away.

  She’d never make it.

  Alarmed and furious with herself for creating this unneeded crisis, she ran for the elevator. Dialing Dax, she barely waited for him to answer before she exclaimed, “Dax, I’m late! I came to the wrong address and now I don’t have time to get back to my interview.” The elevator door opened and she raced into the lobby, then out onto the street. “I’m so stupid! Why did I do this? The interview’s in ten minutes!”

  Dax’s voice emerged like a calm in the storm. “You’re going to be fine. Take a deep breath and relax. You don’t have time to walk. You need to hail a cab. Walk to the curb.” She did. “Make sure the flow of the traffic is going the direction you need. In other words, you may have to cross the street to go in the right direction.”

  Jasmine shrugged but saw a taxi approaching.

  “Hold your hand up and yell. If they see you, and they have an open cab, they’ll stop for you.”

  His words seemed to narrate the reality in front of her. She raised her hand at the cab driver, they met eyes and the cab pulled up beside the curb directly in front of her. “Thank you, Dax. I got one,” she said breathlessly. She accidently hung up on his well wishes, but he’d understand.

  She stepped carefully off the curb into the street. Last thing she needed now was a twisted ankle. She reached for the door handle but it swept open on its own accord. She gasped and pulled back. Someone was emerging from the cab onto the street.

  A very familiar someone. A petite, blonde someone Jasmine had seen in a hundred photos over the last week. Only this time, she wasn’t her pretend grandmother conjured in her fantasies. It was her grandmother in the flesh: Crystal Blair.

  Crystal startled, looked up at Jasmine. Jasmine held the taxi’s door open for her and stepped aside. Then words came out without plan, “Crystal Blair.”r />
  The older woman stood, brushed her skirt and said, “Yes. Hello.” She walked on by and Jasmine turned and watched her pull open the door and enter the building.

  Her first real-life connection to her past.

  She shook it off, and climbed into the cab. Now, it was time to make connection with her future.

  * * *

  She arrived four and a half minutes after her scheduled interview time. She paid the cabbie, climbed out and raced to the front door. Then she drew a deep breath, closed her eyes and prayed. Lord, be with me. Your will be done. You know what You’re doing, so if You want me here, then bless me as I go into this interview. Send Your words through me. Let me be Your vessel. Send me the confidence to impress them and let me show them what I can do.

  She squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and walked into the building. She wasn’t sure if it was God’s peace that enveloped her, or if she’d established it herself, but all sign of her previous panic was gone. It didn’t matter. God had her back, and she had this.

  Riding the elevator, she ran through her message points in her mind. She arrived in the waiting room and gave her name to the receptionist. The woman nodded, held up a finger, then pointed to a chair. Jasmine sat, held her portfolio, and concentrated on being calm.

  “Jasmine Malone.” A woman in a dress and jacket had said her name. Of course she was put together perfectly.

  “That’s me.” Jasmine stood and joined her, holding out her hand.

  “Hello, Jasmine. I’m Caitlyn Morris. I’ll be interviewing you, along with John Henderson.”

  Jasmine recognized the names from the research she’d done and the quizzing her dad had helped drill into her head. “So nice to meet you.”

  Ms. Morris led her down a short hallway to an office, and through the door. A man was seated at a table, and Ms. Morris stepped to sit beside him, gesturing to Jasmine to sit facing them. She sat gracefully, crossed her legs at the ankle and rested her portfolio on the floor. She looked up at them expectantly, a calm smile on her face.

  “Thanks for coming. You come highly recommended.”