by Dara Girard
“I see,” she said, going back to her contract. Her blunt, chin-length haircut fell around her face.
“But that’s not the problem.”
“What is it this time?” Michelle calmly asked, used to her sister’s dramatics. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, patiently waiting for her sister’s latest story.
Jessie flopped into a chair like a deflated balloon. “First, I was fired.”
Michelle fell forward, resting her forearms on the desk. “What? Do you know how hard it was for me to convince Montey to give you that job?”
“I know, I know.” Jessie threw her hands in the air in a dismissive gesture. “But it wasn’t my fault. Kenneth—”
Michelle shook her head and twirled a pen between her fingers. “Forget it. I don’t want to hear it. So now you’re unemployed.”
“But that’s not the problem.”
Michelle tossed down her pen and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I can always count on you for a headache. What is it, then?”
Jessie bit her nails. “It wasn’t really my fault,” she began. “It’s just that Deborah was insulting me. I had to do something.”
“What happened?”
She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “She even insulted you too.”
Michelle blinked, bored. “What happened?”
“Deborah dared me to get Kenneth Preston to fall in love with me. Well, not in love exactly,” she amended. “But I have to charm him. She wants me to get him to invite me to the Hampton Charity Ball.”
Michelle frowned, confused. “Why would she dare you to do that?”
Jessie shrugged. “I sort of set myself up,” she admitted, looking down at her bitten nails. She had chewed them pretty badly on her way over. “They were talking about me—”
“Who’s ‘they’?”
“Deborah and Tracy.”
“Oh, yes, the brilliant and influential minds of our society,” Michelle muttered.
“Will you just let me finish my story?”
“Go ahead, but make it quick; I have an appointment at three.”
Jessie glanced at her watch. “It’s only one o’clock.”
“I know. I’m hoping you’ll finish this story sometime before then.”
“Very funny,” Jessie said, not amused at all.
Suddenly Michelle’s buzzer rang. She softly swore and pressed the button harder than necessary. “Yes?”
“Your other sister is here to see you,” her assistant replied.
Michelle sighed, resigned. “Send her in.”
A few minutes later, Teresa made her entrance, carrying a bouquet of flowers. She had made it a habit of brightening Michelle’s office with flowers every week. As the middle child, she had inherited the Cliftons’ ordinary brown eyes and simple mouth, but she didn’t have her sisters’ temperament. Her face was round and soft instead of angular, and she had gentle eyes.
She unwrapped the sheer gold scarf she had tied around her head. “Oh, hi, Jessie,” Teresa said. She grabbed a vase from the bookshelf and filled it with water in Michelle’s small kitchen. “What are you doing here?” Teresa paused for a moment, then stuck her head out of the kitchen and glanced at her younger sister. She suddenly burst into laughter.
Jessie stiffened. “What’s so funny?”
“What are you wearing? I never thought I would see you in flowers.”
“And you’ll never see me in them again. It’s a long story.”
“Sit down,” Michelle said. “You’re just in time to hear your sister’s latest spectacle.”
“I didn’t make a spectacle of myself,” Jessie argued.
“From what I—”
Teresa raised her voice. “What happened?”
Jessie sighed. The more she repeated the story, the more ridiculous it sounded. “I bet Deborah that I could charm any guy I wanted.”
“Ah, but that’s not all,” Michelle added. “He has to ask her to the Hampton Charity Ball.”
“Do you know how much that event costs?” Teresa asked, arranging the flowers in the vase. “Why would you say that?”
Jessie sighed. “Because she implied that she can and I can’t.”
“But you can’t,” Michelle said, trying to help her sister see reason.
“That’s not the point. It’s about pride, dignity.”
Michelle drummed her fingers on the desk. “So you made this ridiculous bet with her in order to save your pride?”
“Yes.”
“Go on. I’m afraid I’m beginning to understand your motives.”
“So we decided to bet whether or not I could get any guy that danced with her. I really think it would have worked, but she set me up.”
“How?” Teresa asked, leaving the flowers in the kitchen and taking a seat.
“She said that the next guy that asked her to dance would be the one. She neglected to tell me that she had already scheduled a dance with Kenneth.”
Michelle nodded. “So you’re supposed to try to get Kenneth to fall for you. Am I correct?”
“Yes.”
“And ask you to the charity ball in a month…correct?”
Jessie nodded.
She rested back and clasped her hands behind her head. “The answer is simple.”
Jessie leaned forward, desperate for any advice she could receive. “What is it?”
“Just tell Deborah that you changed your mind.”
Jessie fell back in her chair and scowled. Teresa looked up at the ceiling and shook her head, her ponytail swinging back and forth like a wagging finger.
“I couldn’t do that,” Jessie scoffed. “That would be admitting defeat.”
Michelle folded her arms. “It’s a stupid dare. Besides, this isn’t high school. What could she do to you?’
“She could gloat. Besides, if I lose, I have to be her housekeeper for a year and wear a uniform.”
She held up her hands. “I’m sorry. I was wrong. This is high school.”
“But if I win, I get the Sapphire Pendant.”
Her sisters stared at her in silent awe.
Michelle finally shook her head, irritated that she had briefly entertained thoughts of winning. “It won’t work.”
Jessie turned to Teresa. “What do you think?”
Teresa thought for a moment, smoothing out her brightly colored gold-and-purple dress. The gold bracelets on her wrists gently clinked together. “Anything is possible. I think it’s a sign. Gran Sonya had to seduce someone to get it, and now Jessie has to seduce Kenneth to get it back.”
“Charm, not seduce.”
Michelle snorted, resting her chin in her hand. “Since you two have obviously made up your minds, I can get back to work.” She lifted up a business plan in front of her.
Jessie snatched it from her and scanned it. “The idea is good, but the plan will never work. I suggest you send them back and have them tighten their mission statement.”
Michelle took the plan. “Don’t think that because you took a few night classes in business, you are now an expert.”
“She was only trying to help,” Teresa said.
Jessie crossed her legs and swung her foot. “You don’t think I can succeed in anything, do you?”
“That’s not true,” Michelle said.
“You blame me for losing the pendant. Dad wouldn’t have had to sell it if it hadn’t been for me. And you hate me for not keeping a job long enough to get it back.”
Michelle scribbled down something. “You’re wrong. I don’t hate you and I don’t blame you.”
Jessie didn’t believe her. “I will get it back. I have to.”
Michelle shook her head.
“I need to do this, Mich,” Jessie said, determined to make her sister understand. “It’s our heritage, and I want to prove to Deborah and all the other hoity-toity girls that we can get guys too.” And I want to prove to you that I’m not a failure.
Michelle lifted her head. “Why do you say ‘w
e’ like that?”
“They were insulting you too. And they think Teresa believes in voodoo!”
“Hey!” Teresa protested.
Michelle shrugged. “So what? They think all island immigrants are into that. It’s just ignorance. Deborah and Tracy are no better or worse than we are.”
“They’re prettier and richer than we are,” Teresa said.
“So?”
Jessie pounded her knee. “It’s the principle.”
Teresa nodded her head. “If it’s important to Jessie, it should be important to us too.”
Michelle glanced at both of her sisters and rubbed her forehead. She softened her voice. “Look, love, I know how much you want to win this dare, but…have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? You’re not exactly gorgeous.”
Teresa rolled her eyes. “Mich, you’re as tactful as a rock.”
“What?”
Jessie slumped into her chair. “Was that supposed to make me feel better?”
Michelle shrugged. “I’m being honest.”
“Dad said that charm and grace are more important than looks.”
Michelle tapped a pen against her desk for a few moments, then flashed her sister a bland smile. “Jessie, let me tell you a little secret about Dad that I found out.”
“What?”
“He lied to us.”
Both Jessie and Teresa groaned. “You’re so negative,” they chorused.
“I’m not being negative.” Michelle stood up and came from around her desk, addressing her sisters as if they were clients heading towards a bad business venture. “I’m being realistic.”
“You sounded just like Mum,” Jessie teased.
Michelle bristled at the comparison. Their mother had grown up with a harsh, well-intentioned nanny and had been schooled with strict headmasters in England, causing her to be a disciplinarian and a realist. Unfortunately, her emphasis on obedience at times overshadowed her genuine love for her children. Though Michelle loved her mother, she didn’t wish to be compared to her.
“Kenneth Preston is a very attractive man,” she continued. “He has a lot going for him: money, looks, and women. Deborah set you up because she knows you will fail. She couldn’t even get him in college. He invited her once to the charity ball, and that was it. He’s been surrounded by women all his life. What makes you think that you can catch him?”
“I have to try,” Jessie said in a quiet voice.
“He’s just a man,” Teresa added. “Why couldn’t she get him? Do you think he’s too good for her?”
Michelle rested back against the desk and crossed her ankles. “Don’t put words in my mouth. I’m just stating fact. We weren’t born yesterday. We all know how the world works. The pretty girls get the princes, and we get the paupers.” She suddenly grinned. “Fortunately, both are made exactly the same.”
Teresa shook her head. “Oh, Mich, will you be serious?”
“I am being serious.” She turned to Jessie. “You don’t even like him. You never have.”
That’s where she was wrong. “That is beside the point. I hate losing, and my honor is at stake.”
Michelle thought for a moment, adjusting the cuffs of her jacket. “Honor can be bought, you know.”
“What are you talking about?”
She folded her arms. “I’m willing to pay Kenneth to go out with you.”
Jessie jumped to her feet like a spring. “Have you gone completely mad?”
“No. You have. This is one of the silliest situations you have been involved in. Why can’t you grow up?”
Jessie rested her hands on the desk. “Why? So that I can become a coldhearted workaholic like you?”
“As opposed to a hotheaded, lazy—”
“I am not lazy.”
“If you could keep a job—”
Teresa pushed Jessie towards a chair. “You’re both being childish.”
“You’re right.” Michelle smoothed down her hair, containing herself. “I’m trying to help you, Jess. You shouldn’t embarrass yourself just because some stupid girl insulted you. I don’t want to see you get hurt. Just forget about the whole thing.”
“I can’t.”
“Why should she?” Teresa asked. “If she wins, we get the pendant back for free.”
Michelle glanced at the ceiling. “I wish you’d stop encouraging this.”
“It sounds exciting.” Teresa sighed wistfully. “It’s about time one of us set our sights on a man.”
“What for? So that we can prove to people who don’t matter that we count?”
“No. I truly think that Jessie and Kenneth were meant to be together.”
Michelle covered her face with her hand and moaned. “Why?”
“I saw their children as clear as day in a vision.”
Jessie cringed. “Oh, not that again.”
“Dad told me that my visions were real.”
“Dad was a dreamer,” Jessie reminded her. “Remember, he thought stones had magic.”
“So do you. You can read them and tell fortunes.”
Jessie shrugged. “A simple parlor trick. I size people up and tune into their fears. Anyone can do it.”
“No, they can’t. Your gift is real. Your fortunes usually come true, and Dad also told us a lot of things that came true.”
Michelle dismissed the statement with an impatient gesture. “Coincidence.”
Teresa sighed in defeat. She stood and went to the neglected flowers in the kitchen. “I don’t know why you don’t think that Jessie can pull this off.”
“I have explained my reasons.”
“I know. Okay, so we’re not the best-looking girls.” She placed the vase on Michelle’s desk, then sent her sister a sly grin. “You married James.”
Michelle froze at the name of her estranged husband and nervously twisted the ring on her finger. She pushed herself off the desk and went to grab a book from the shelf. “He was a mistake.” She opened the book and began flipping through its pages.
“So? He married you and he was gorgeous,” she said, dragging out the last word like a lovesick teenager.
Jessie gave a low whistle in agreement. “I didn’t know a man could look that good. You really hit the jackpot.”
Michelle snapped the book shut. “But as you can see, I also went bankrupt.”
“Are you ever going to tell us what happened?”
“I told you that we were not compatible.”
“That was evident from the beginning, but you still married him.”
“Wealthy James Winfield,” Teresa remembered. “Mum and Dad were so proud. I miss him.”
Michelle shoved the book back into place. “Look, we are not discussing me or my…or him. We’re discussing Jessie.”
“We’re not expecting Jessie to date Kenneth, just charm him. If you could charm a handsome devil like James, then obviously you can give her some pointers.”
“James was an accident.” Her sisters stared at her, unconvinced. She tried another angle. “Jessie, do you think that Kenneth is going to forget that you’ve always tormented him?”
“’Tormented’ is a harsh word,” Jessie said.
“How about ‘harass’?”
“Oh, come on Mich, that was in high school,” Teresa protested.
“All I’m saying is that I wouldn’t fall for a woman who bumped into me and made me drop things, set weird objects on my chair, glued my books together, hid my homework, or put pepper on my food.”
Jessie pulled on her fingers. “He liked the pepper.”
“That’s not the point. You made his life hell.”
Teresa grimaced. “Yes, I guess ‘torment’ would be a good word.”
“He made my life miserable too,” Jessie defended. “If Mum wasn’t comparing me to either of you, she was comparing me to him. ‘Why can’t you be smart like Kenneth?’” she mimicked. “’Why can’t you be graceful like Kenneth?’ And he knew I was the one who harassed him, but he never told on me.”
/>
Michelle shivered in mockery. “Ooh, what an ogre.”
“And he offered to tutor you in French your senior year so that you could pass,” Teresa added.
Jessie grew quiet. That had been the year she had fallen in love with him; the next year, she would hate him with a passion that still burned. “What’s past is past. I am going to win this bet for the sake of the pendant.”
Teresa placed her hands on her hips. “Jessie’s right. We have a chance we may never get again.”
“So you’ll help me?” she asked, raising her eyes to meet Teresa’s.
“Yes.”
Both women turned to Michelle expectantly. Michelle shook her head. “Okay, I’ll help for the sake of the pendant,” she said with reluctance. “But I think we’re going to regret this.”
Chapter 4
To say that Kenneth was in a bad mood the next day would be to underestimate the seething anger he kept hidden underneath his cool features. Why was that woman able to get to him? Ever since yesterday’s meeting, he had not been able to get Jasmine out of his mind—her messy black hair, or how she had tried to blink away the tears he had inflicted from her eyes. He had gone too far, but so had she. They just seemed to bring out the worst in each other. And yet he remembered that brief moment of amity, her soft smile and how good it felt to know that it was meant for him…only him. He yanked at his tie and looked down at a profit-and-loss report. He had to focus. He had to stop thinking about her, stop thinking about her hands, how her lips would feel on his, or her…He swore.
“That’s not the kind of welcome I expected, Mr. Boss,” Nathan Phillips greeted him, closing the door behind him with artistic flair. He had been Kenneth’s college roommate and was now CFO at Radson Electronics and Software. His easy smile and charming personality proved a healthy balance for Kenneth’s more serious nature. “Hey, thanks for letting me borrow your car the other day.”
Kenneth shrugged. “Do we have an appointment?” He glanced at his watch, which usually alerted him to such events.