by Tia Wylder
“No, no. It’s nothing like that. You were… all I could have asked for, and then some,” he assured her. She pouted, rolling off of him and settling at his side.
“Then… what’s wrong?” She implored. He hesitated, staring intently at the ceiling as if meeting her gaze once more would tear him to pieces. Mark breathed a sigh, turning to face her and grip her hands in his own.
“I assure you that what’s bothering me has nothing to do with you, and especially nothing to do with the moment we just shared. You’re wonderful, and making love to you was something I’d kill to experience a thousand times over. It’s simply that… there’s a problem that lies within me. Something I’ve avoided coming to terms with for some years. Now, here with you… I want to be a better person. And that means having a deep conversation with myself, and deciding what direction to go from here,” he rambled, looking altogether uncomfortable to be having such a talk with her.
“Would it be better if I left?” Jasmine asked softly, her expression vulnerable. Mark made as if to shake his head, but paused, locking eyes with her. His expression was melancholy, and it was clear that he was more upset than she had initially guessed. She drew away without waiting for an answer, rising to her feet and shuffling around the bed to gather her clothes. Deciding that finding her underwear was a lost cause, she settled for shimmying back into the dress she’d been wearing. She glanced towards Mark, who looked as if he wanted nothing more than to beg her to stay. It was obvious, however, that something was stopping him. Until he came to terms with his feelings, she couldn’t lay next to him and pretend everything was okay. As much as she had enjoyed being in his arms, holding him in hers, she knew there was a deeper story to delve into.
“I’m… I’m sorry, Jasmine,” he said, his tone pleading.
“I know. So am I,” she whispered, turning her back on him and slipping out the door. It felt as if she were on some roller coaster from Hell, with the emotions she’d been thrown through. The highs of feeling as if she loved Mark, and could, in turn, be loved by him… they were the highest she’d ever felt. Perhaps she was moving too far, too fast, but love made you do crazy things. She could only hope that whatever he was feeling, Mark could come to terms with it. If not… she wasn’t sure how much longer she could stay in this house.
She felt as if she had ruined something great. She felt as if she had ruined her short-lived relationship with Mark’s daughter, and would just be another woman who came abandon the two of them. As much as she didn’t want that, she had to take care of herself too. If that meant ultimately packing her things and never looking back, it was a possibility she would have to consider.
For now, she slipped away from Mark’s bedroom, walking what felt a sort of walk of shame back to the guest room that she called her own. She was certain that she would be unable to sleep, and if she managed to close her eyes and drift away, knew that it would be a restless sleep. All the same, anything was better than being stuck in a room with a man who had dragged her through so many unbidden emotions. Especially when that man had emotions of his own to deal with. She stripped out of her dress, putting on a pair of pajamas more for modesty’s sake than anything else. Then, she tucked herself into the comfortable bedspread, staring at the ceiling as if it could provide the answers she so needed.
If only things were ever that easy.
Chapter Seven
Jasmine woke late the next morning, which was a bit of surprise considering how Jenny tended to greet her with a new game every morning. She threw her legs off the side of the bed, drawing the sheets and blankets off of herself before standing up. She briefly examined her reflection in the mirror, musing that she had certainly seen better days. She had no time to dwell on it for the time being, however. While she was unsure where she stood with Mark, she knew that she adored his daughter and would not see the girl untended to for the bulk of the day. Though it wasn’t often that Mark had to go into work, she knew that day was one of the few. She could only hope he’d had the sense to prepare breakfast for his daughter before he left. She slipped out of her room, brushing her hair behind her ears as she made her way through the house. She could hear the television playing in the living room. She followed the sound to see Jenny sitting on the couch and eating a bowl of cereal. It looked like one of those sugary sweet breakfast cereals with no nutritional value, but the expression on Jenny’s face made it clear that nutrition was the last thing on the girl’s mind that morning.
“Jenny?” Jasmine implored, stepping towards the couch and quirking a brow as the young girl jolted in surprise.
“Miss Jasmine! I didn’t think you’d be up for a while,” Jenny sputtered, lurching off the couch and glancing towards the front door in a rather suspicious manner. Jasmine pursed her lips, resting a hand on her hip and crouching to get on Jenny’s level.
“And why didn’t you wake me? Doesn’t your father have to report to his job today?” She inquired. Jenny shifted uncomfortably beneath her gaze, glancing from Jasmine to the front door.
“I have someone coming to watch me, so I thought I would let you sleep in,” Jenny explained weakly. There was obviously more to the story, but Jasmine resolved to leave well enough alone as the doorbell rang. Jenny tried to shoulder past her, but Jasmine guided her back towards the couch.
“I’ll get the door, Jenny, you know not to answer for strangers,” the older woman sighed, stepping towards the front door. A knocking sounded almost immediately after the doorbell had rang, and she narrowed her eyes in irritation as she approached the door. Likely some door to door salesperson, also known as the last person she wanted to deal with that day. She pulled the door open without even looking out the peephole, jolting with surprise as she saw a familiar face on the other side.
“Oh, you’re still here,” Mark’s ex-wife said drolly, looking around Jasmine towards Jenny. “You could have given me a fair warning, sweetie. I wouldn’t want to impose,” the woman hummed, edging her way inside the house despite her words. Jasmine bit down a retort that she was very much imposing, but forced a kind expression.
“And what are you doing here? Mark didn’t tell me you would be here, and neither did Jenny. It’s a surprise to see that you want to actually spend time with your family, is all,” Jasmine said none too kindly. Deborah smiled, considering the nanny with an expression that Jasmine knew she wasn’t a fan of.
“I’m here to take my daughter to her ballet recital, though I’m not awfully surprised that Mark didn’t find it necessary to keep you informed,” the willowy woman said snidely. Jenny looked between the two of them with obvious discomfort, and Jasmine was growing increasingly aware of why the young girl might have wanted her to remain in bed.
“Well, considering I’m her nanny, it would have been prudent on your part to tell me, before you take her off somewhere,” she bit back. Deborah laughed, rolling her eyes and stepping towards Jenny.
“Jenny, get your things together. Your nanny and I are due for a long talk, okay, sweetie?” Mark’s ex said coolly, and Jenny looked imploringly to Jasmine.
“That’s okay, mom. I’ve got my things already. Why don’t we just leave?” Jenny said almost pleadingly. Deborah turned a cold look upon her daughter, and the young girl sighed before slipping away to her room. Deborah sat on the couch where Jenny had just been, patting the space next to her.
“I see you’ve not considered my warning regarding Mark,” Deborah hummed, a rather wicked glint in her eye. Jasmine narrowed her eyes, trying to come up with a viable excuse to leave the woman sitting alone on the couch. “I have a pretty good guess as to where he found you, after all. You wouldn’t be the first that he’s snared in his trap,” the woman continued, examining her nails. The younger woman’s eyes widened, and she stared in the direction Jenny had gone to make sure she would not overhear the conversation.
“Where exactly do you think he found me? I’m just Jenny’s nanny, nothing more than that,” Jasmine lied, though it was obvious Deborah didn’t quite
buy it. The willowy woman stood, looking the young nanny up and down with a curious expression.
“You’re not his usual type, but you have every bit the babyface I’ve come to expect from those sites he frequents,” Deborah mused aloud. Panic gripped Jasmine’s heart, but at the same time, she was overcome with doubt. How could Mark’s ex know that she had sold her virginity online? Mark had seemed as if this was a once in a lifetime thing for him, he didn’t seem the type to regularly pick up nannies from a virginity auction website. He didn’t seem the type to frequent the websites at all, but how else could this woman know…?
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. If you’re here to take Jenny to her recital, I’ll see that she gets dressed in short order. As far as you and I go, there’s nothing more to talk about,” Jasmine grumbled. She turned her back on the other woman, moving to slip away to Jenny’s room.
“He bought your virginity, didn’t he?” Deborah called out coldly, stopping Jasmine in her tracks. She looked over her shoulder, surprise and disbelief shining in her gaze.
“How did you…,” she began, cursing herself for being so transparent. “It’s nothing like that! I joined the website and he had the winning bid, but he’s been nothing but kind and--,” she was cut off by the other woman.
“A perfect gentleman, I presume? That’s what I’ve heard from the others I’ve met. I know this seems unlikely, but the Mark you know isn’t the real Mark. He’s a serial cheater, who has been buying young women’s virginity off of the net ever since we were together. Why do you think I would divorce such a handsome billionaire otherwise?” She drawled. Jasmine stared at her, slowly putting the pieces together in her mind. She didn’t want to believe it. She didn’t want to give this woman’s opinion more value than was due. It would, however, explain why Mark had seemed so troubled when they made love. Or was that all part of the game as well? Had he really felt guilty, or was he setting the stage to let her loose. Jasmine stared at Deborah for a long moment before sitting on the sofa.
“Okay. I’m listening,” Jasmine said, uncertainty ebbing from her words. Deborah smirked, sitting beside Jasmine and looking entirely too pleased with herself.
“Mark and I had the perfect marriage. At least, it was perfect in my eyes. He worked long hours, but always made ample time for his daughter. Granted, he was never as concerned with my well-being, but you know how fathers are,” she paused, rolling her eyes.
“Yeah…,” Jasmine muttered, a sour expression on her face.
“In any case. While he worked, I was the perfect housewife. I prepared his meals, did his laundry, and the sex was fantastic,” Deborah paused, seemingly to gauge Jasmine’s expression. The younger woman wasn’t willing to give her the satisfaction of knowing she was upset, so she simply averted her eyes and hummed to acknowledge her.
“I’m well aware,” she said blithely. Mark’s ex-wife flinched visibly, but snorted and resumed her storytelling.
“I noticed that he was becoming reluctant to share his computer with me, and insisted that I have my own. No problem there, in and of itself. I was rather pleased to have a place to myself. But as he spent less and less time at home, my suspicions grew,” Deborah glanced at Jasmine, who seemed to be drinking in every word that passed the blonde woman’s lips.
“He works a lot, doesn’t he? Isn’t it normal for him to spend some time away from home?” Jasmine prompted in a plaintive tone.
“Oh, of course. But when you’re married someday, you’ll understand that a wife has a certain sort of… intuition. I searched through his browsing history, and for the first time, I became aware that selling their virginity online was a rather lucrative business for young a woman. At least, as a one-time gig. The moron didn’t even have the sense to sign out of his account before leaving to meet his little floozy that evening. I found out where they were meeting, and caught my dear husband in some shitty apartment complex with her,” Deborah sighed, a distant expression in her eyes. Jasmine watched her with a slight frown, unsure what to believe at that rate.
“When you caught him, he… didn’t stop?” She inquired softly.
“Oh, of course not. There’s something about being a girl’s first, I suppose. But I could have lived with the cheating if it was only sex he involved himself with. Mark has a way of making women reliant on him. He wants to be their everything, and in turn, he wants to essentially own them. When he realized he couldn’t own me, he seemed less and less interested in our marriage. Though, that’s not to say he seemed any more interested in pursuing a long-term relationship with any of his little whores. Invariably, Mark would grow bored with them,” the older woman continued, resting her chin in her hand and watching Jasmine with a faint smile.
“But… that can’t be true. I can’t believe Mark would do that to me. I refuse to believe it,” Jasmine hissed, though she didn’t seem entirely convinced by her own words. Deborah shrugged a shoulder, leveling Jasmine a wicked little grin.
“Believe what you will, sweetheart. But you’re just one of many in his line of playthings. He won’t stop until he possesses every inch of your being. Then, he’ll get bored, and you’ll end up on the curb. You’ll have your payment, at the very least. I suppose heartbreak is a small price to pay, hmmm?” Deborah hummed. Jasmine stared at her with wide eyes, looking torn between laughing and crying.
“You… you really think so, don’t you? You’re not just toying with me. You truly think he’ll kick me out once he’s had his fun,” she forced out, tears pricking the corners of her eyes.
“I’m only looking out for you, honey. You seem young, inexperienced with the world. There’s more to life than being a billionaire’s sex toy. Cut your losses while you can,” the ex-wife suggested slyly. Jasmine looked away, balling her hands into fists in her lap.
It couldn’t be true. Mark was one of the kindest men she had ever met. The fact that he was filthy stinking rich did nothing to detract from that. She couldn’t deny the sinking sensation in her gut, however, as she thought back over the time they’d spent together. Every shared smile, every quirk of his well-sculpted brows, especially those times where things were not as great.
He had been so quick to snap at his ex-wife in the restaurant some nights ago, so eager to get back in her good graces. Was the emerald necklace around her neck intended as some sort of metaphorical choke chain? Was it a symbol of his ownership?
It was thought she couldn’t bear to consider any longer. Jasmine would discuss the matter more in depth with Mark when he got back from work. ...That is, if he was working right then. Her heart sank as she realized it was just as likely that he had found another woman to share a bed with. Had the entire nanny thing been a ploy? If so, he was far crueler than even his ex gave him credit for.
Jasmine had come to enjoy her time with Mark, that much was true. It was just as true that she came to enjoy the time she spent with his daughter as well. The young girl was smart and vivacious, burdened with the unfairness of the world at an unspeakably early age. What would Jenny think when her nanny disappeared? What would Mark tell her? He would never reveal the truth, and perhaps the most troubling thing of all was the fact that he would likely paint Jasmine in the most negative light possible. Jenny would believe him, without a doubt. After all, her father had been the only solid in her life for some time.
“Jenny, honey! Come down, you must be ready for your recital by now,” Deborah called abruptly, considering Jasmine with a sly grin. Jenny nearly stampeded down the stairs, her expression filled with grief.
“I’m sorry, Miss Jasmine. If she said anything really mean…,” the girl trailed off, glancing at her mother with a pout.
“Oh, Jenny. Don’t worry. Your mother has been nothing but kind,” she assured her charge, unsure if she was being truthful or otherwise. Deborah had every reason to want Jasmine gone, at least, if she wanted Mark back. Was it possible that the willowy woman had come up with the elaborate story to scare Jasmine off? It seemed over the top, and she cou
ldn’t begin to fathom why this woman would go so far to hurt her.
As the front door opened, the three females looked up in time to see Mark step through. Deborah’s smile upon seeing the man was borderline victorious, and as he took in the expressions of both women, it was clear that he knew something was amiss.
“Deborah,” he began in a warning tone, taking a threatening step towards his ex-wife. The woman in question simply smirked, reaching down to rest her hand on their daughter’s shoulder.
“Consider your mysterious lifestyle illuminated, darling,” she announced grandly, dragging Jenny out the door. The young girl stared back at her father and Jasmine, seeming to sense that something was amiss. The nanny managed a gentle smile despite the torment brewing inside of her.