"Sounds good." He smiled, feeling at ease in her presence.
"No tablet?" she asked, her tone teasing. But her face showed no cruelty—she had the face of an angel.
"Not on a date." Zachary's heart pummeled to the floor. "Uh, this is a date, right?" Zachary wanted to climb under the table and hide. He didn't talk much, but when he did, his mouth always seemed to mess something up. That's why he preferred writing. The delete button was a lifesaver.
"I sure hope so." The corners of her mouth twitched upward.
They stared into each other's eyes. Jasmine's were a bright brown, unlike any he'd seen before. They were really pretty, much like her. "So, uh, how were the rest of your classes?" he asked, feeling a bit awkward with the silence.
Her face lit up. "Always interesting. You never know what you'll get when kids are involved." She laughed. "Today a girl fell over and knocked over another girl and then it turned into a domino effect, and half the class went down. Some of the kids were laughing, but a few were pretty mad. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry, but once I got everyone back up, they were all happy again."
Zachary found himself relaxing, and he laughed along with Jasmine. "Sounds like quite an adventure."
"It usually is." Her eyes shone as she continued smiling. "How about your work?"
He considered his wording. "There's a lot of action, too."
She looked curious. "How so?"
His heart pounded. Zachary hated talking about his writing in general, but especially now, with so much rejection tied to it. "I'm writing a novel."
Jasmine's eyes lit up. "Really? That's so cool. What's it about?"
It took him a moment to realize what she'd asked. Monica had never asked about his book—she'd always told him how he should write it, never once listening to his ideas. He swallowed. "It's a thriller."
"About… ?" Jasmine stared into his eyes, appearing eager to hear more.
Zachary cleared his throat, his pulse racing. "The main character is trying to find the man who killed his dad. He finds him, but the assassin is deep within the Russian mafia, and Damion has to figure out how to gain their trust. But in the process, he gets intrigued and loses his focus." He paused. "I'm not describing it very well. That doesn't sound very thrilling." Maybe that was part of the reason he couldn't get anyone to give the book a chance—he needed to find a way to make it sound as exciting as it actually was.
"No," Jasmine said, "it sounds really good. Can I read it?"
"What?" Zachary asked, unsure he'd heard her right.
"I love a good book that will keep me up at night."
"It's not published or anything. It's a real work in progress, needing to be edited and—"
"I couldn't place a comma in the right place to save my life, anyway. I don't care about that. I'd love to read your story. It sounds great."
Zachary's face heated up. "I'm not sure."
"Why?" she asked. "Please? I'd love to read a book before it's released to the world. It would be an honor." She begged him with her beautiful eyes.
An honor? How could he say no to that?
"Okay." He couldn't believe he was going to let her read his book. He barely knew her. "I'll have to email it to you. You know how to side-load files?"
"I can look it up." She pulled out her phone. "I'll text you my email address."
Zachary's heart continued to race. No one other than his agent had actually read it. Sure, they'd sent it out to every publishing house, but no one had taken the time to get past the query letter.
His phone beeped, letting him know he had a text. He checked it and saw her email address. "Got it. I'll have to send it from my computer later."
"I can't wait." And she looked like she meant it. "Where do you get your ideas?"
He shrugged. "They just come to me. I have a whole list of potential plots, and I doubt I'll live long enough to write them all."
She shook her head. "I can't even imagine. I had to write a short story for a class in school once, and it was worse than pulling teeth. There's no way I could write a whole novel."
"And I could never teach dance," he said. "I think it's about passion."
Jasmine nodded. "I'll bet you're right."
The waitress came by and took their orders and then moved to the next table.
"You never really answered my question. So, where do you get your ideas?" Jasmine asked. "I'm really curious."
Zachary shrugged. "They just come to me. Sometimes something will spur me on, like a movie or a song. Maybe even a news story or a magazine headline. It just takes one little spark, and before you know it, it's a whole story with characters and everything."
"I don't know how you do it." She stared at him in amazement.
"That's what people always say," Zachary said. "But I think it just takes practice. I've been writing stories ever since I could spell enough words to string together a sentence."
She looked at him like he was a hero. His heart swelled, not used to that kind of attention.
"I've always like reading," she said, "even though I haven't made much time for it lately. I love how an entire world can be created through the use of just words."
Zachary nodded. "It's magical."
"I couldn't agree more." She looked thoughtful.
"Sometimes I find it hard to believe that there are only twenty-six letters, but yet with those few keys, so many different worlds and characters can be invented. The possibilities for story lines is endless."
"I never thought about it like that," she said, her voice low. "And I can't believe I'm hanging out with a real author."
He frowned. "I'm not published."
"You will be." She looked like she really believed it.
Six
Jasmine looked into Zachary's eyes from across the table. "Promise you'll email your book over as soon as you get home? I'm going to find out how to get the file on my tablet."
He nodded, still holding her gaze. "I will."
"Tell me more about the story," she said, resting her chin on her palms. It made her heart flutter when his face lit up as he talked about writing.
Zachary blushed. "I don't want to give too much away."
Jasmine pretended to pout. "Oh, okay." She paused with dramatic flair and then changed the subject. "Are you free tomorrow?"
It was strange being the one to initiate dates, but with Zachary, she didn't mind. He was like a hidden cove of jewels, and as he shared a little more about himself, it was like slowly opening a treasure chest. There was a fun and exciting person underneath the quiet and mysterious exterior.
"Sure," he said. "When are you free?"
"About the same as today. A couple hours around lunchtime and then in the evening."
He looked deep in thought. "I haven't walked along the beach since coming back to town. Would you want to do that around six-thirty? I'm having dinner with my family tomorrow night."
"Perfect. That sounds like a lot of fun." Jasmine couldn't believe he actually ate meals with his family. She had never even eaten with hers when living at home. Her parents couldn't stand each other, so they had long given up eating in the same room. In fact, they didn't bother making meals, period. She'd practically grown up eating microwave dinners in her bedroom with her homework as her only company.
They discussed where and when to meet, and then Zachary paid the bill, got up, and gave her his gorgeous smile.
Jasmine could have melted into a puddle over the table.
"Thanks so much for dinner," Jasmine said, standing. "I had a great time."
"Me, too." His smile widened. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow."
"I wouldn't miss it."
Zachary nodded and then walked away.
She watched him through the window until he was out of sight. He was something else. Clearly shy, but somehow that made him all the more attractive. It was hard to know what to make of him, but she couldn't wait to put the pieces together and see the full picture.
His book was a
thriller, so obviously, he had a sense of adventure. Though he seemed reserved, there was clearly a thirst for life and action. Her pulse raced, wanting to figure out what exactly that meant.
He also wasn't her usual type, and that made him all the more exciting. She wanted to know more about him, to figure him out, and help him open up. Once he warmed up to her, he would probably be as talkative and excitable as anyone else. He was just one of those people who needed some time and encouragement.
One of her best friends in high school had been like that. Shy and reserved, always keeping to herself, but Jasmine had helped draw her out of the shell. Then the two of them had had a blast those four years, getting into more trouble than most of the popular kids.
Jasmine looked back from the window and realized the waitress was eying her. She'd been at the table daydreaming for a while. She picked up her purse and went outside, hit by the warm air after being in the air conditioned restaurant. She stood in the sun thinking about how Kate expected her to meet for the nightly concert.
Jasmine wasn't in the mood, and besides, she'd told Zachary she would read his story right away. With any luck, by the time she got back to the condo, his book would be waiting for her. She needed to figure out how to get it on a reading app.
She walked to the condo, barely paying attention to anyone or anything around her. Her steps felt lighter as she thought about Zachary. Even though she'd just met him the day before, she'd never felt this way about anyone. She was falling fast—but didn't care.
It was about time she did something crazy. There wasn't much left of the summer, and she deserved some fun before returning to Portland and landing a position at a prestigious dance studio.
Without realizing it, Jasmine already made it to the condo. She typed the security code into the box and went inside, digging the door keys from her purse. She entered, not surprised to find it empty. Kate was likely at the beach, flirting up a storm.
Jasmine kicked off her shoes and tossed her purse on the coffee table before going back to her room and turning on her laptop. The thing had been neglected most of the summer. It started slowly.
Probably making me pay for ignoring it, she thought, shaking her head.
Jasmine opened her email and didn't see one from Zachary, but it would be there soon enough. He probably had to take time to send it out, whatever that involved. She caught up on the emails she'd been avoiding for a while.
There was one from her mom, sent about a week earlier trying to dig up dirt on her dad—her mom was always looking for a reason to leave him, but never did. Other emails showed family drama with some cousins. Jasmine rubbed her temples. Why did everyone try to drag her into their squabbles?
How she'd come from such a screwed up family, she'd never know. The only thing she was certain about was that she would continue working to not end up like them. If she ever ended up with a marriage like her parents had… she didn't even want to think about it.
Still no email from Zachary, so she jumped on a few of the social media sites to see what her friends were up to. At least she didn't have to worry about her family drama there. Jasmine refused to connect with any of them—there was no way she would let her friends see the crazy drama her family could stir up.
She'd made that mistake once, and wouldn't do that again. Some people had no business being online to share their problems with the world, and unfortunately, she was related to most of them.
After nearly a half an hour of getting nothing done, she checked her email again one more time. When she saw that there was still nothing from Zachary, she decided to get a shower and get ready for bed. He probably had better things to do than run home and send her a file, anyway.
He at least was close to his family from the sounds of it, and if they lived in town, he could easily be busy with them. Or he probably had friends and other things to do. She scolded herself for being so ridiculous expecting the story soon. And maybe he'd had second thoughts about sending it to her.
Sure, they seemed to be hitting it off and everything, but they barely knew each other. For all he knew, she might try to steal his story. Of course she wouldn't, but he didn't know that.
After a long shower, followed by a mud mask and new nail polish, she checked her computer once more. It still wasn't there, so she settled in on the couch, actually glad for a quiet night for a change. The nightly concerts were pretty fun, but some time to herself was necessary once in a while.
Jasmine found a romantic comedy and watched it while checking her email obsessively on her phone. Just after it ended, she heard the sounds of the keys in the door.
Kate stumbled in, her hair a mess and dark circles under her eyes. "You've been here all night?" she asked Jasmine.
"Yep."
"What have you been doing?" she asked. "That date didn't work out?"
"It was great."
Kate looked around. "Where is he?"
Jasmine raised an eyebrow. "Not here. What do you think I am? It was a first date."
"Well, what did you guys do?" Kate closed and locked the door.
"We had dinner."
"That's it?" asked Kate.
Jasmine nodded. "Yeah, and it went well."
"But it ended after you ate?" Kate didn't sound impressed.
"Right," Jasmine said. "He was—"
"Boring?"
"Not even close." Jasmine exhaled, her heart warming as she thought of Zachary. "You should see him. He's adorable… well, you'd say hot. He's both. He's kind of geeky and has a sweet charm."
"But he's sexy?" Kate asked, her face lighting up.
"Yeah, totally. I ran into him at the gym… actually, he ran into me." Jasmine giggled, remembering their meeting. "Oh, his smile. You should see it. He just… oh, I can't even explain it."
"You're flustered, Jas." Kate smiled.
"Completely and thoroughly."
"So sweet." Kate plopped on the couch next to her. "Tell me more."
"He's a writer. He's got a novel he's already finished and waiting to publish."
"In other words, he's unemployed." Kate put her feet on the coffee table, knocking over Jasmine's handbag.
Jasmine scowled. "How did you pull that out of what I said? No. He's a writer. Not out of work."
"Unpublished. What does he do for a living?" Kate asked.
"I…."
"See? Unemployed."
Jasmine's stomach twisted in knots. "No, he isn't. Besides, aren't most of the guys you hang out with out of work?"
"I don't bother asking. It's not like any of them are boyfriend material."
"Then why bother hang out with them?" Jasmine asked.
"For a good time."
Jasmine was beginning to see that food choices weren't the only thing she and her roommate felt differently about. Granted, she'd known they had plenty of other differences, but it seemed so obvious now that Kate was judging Zachary without even meeting him.
"You'll have to ask him about his income next time you get together," Kate said. "Is there a next time? Since the date ended after dinner?"
"Of course, not that his income matters." Jasmine clenched her fists.
"Are you serious about him?"
Jasmine could feel defensiveness rising. She took a deep breath. "I just met him."
"Doesn't mean you can't be serious."
"What's with you?" Jasmine snapped. "Can't you just be happy I met someone I like?"
Kate shrugged. "Sure. Just trying to figure out what's going on."
"Nothing. Why are you being so aggravating?"
"I'm not." Kate gave her a funny look. "Just trying to find out more about this guy, that's all."
"If you can't be positive, then just stop, okay? I want to enjoy being happy."
"Sure. Where's he from?"
"Here."
"A local boy?" Kate asked, appearing interested. "I've heard they can be trouble."
"Anyone can be, no matter where they live. He's sweet. You'll have to meet him." That way you c
an stop judging him without seeing him, Jasmine wanted to add.
"Okay. When?" Kate asked. "I'll find myself a date and we can make it a double."
Jasmine started to feel better. "I'll talk to him and let you know. But I'm going to bed now. It's getting late, and I have to go over my lesson plans before my classes tomorrow."
"Knock yourself out. I don't know why you bother with the plans."
"Haven't we been over this?" Jasmine asked. "I want to—"
The buzzer rang from the outside door.
"Are you expecting someone?" Kate asked.
Jasmine shook her head. "Nope."
"Me, neither." Kate walked over to the box and pressed the talk button. "Yes?"
"Is this where Jasmine Blackwell lives?"
Jasmine's stomach dropped to the floor. She knew that voice anywhere.
Kate turned around and gave her a questioning look. She let go of the talk button. "Who's that, and should I let her in?"
"It's my mom," Jasmine said, feeling nauseated. "I have no idea how she even found me."
Seven
Zachary stared at his laptop, typing random letters on the keyboard. His parents watched the TV in their recliners while he was supposed to be working on his second novel. Their new agreement was that if he wanted to live with them he either needed to be actively working on his novels or get a job.
"It's not that we're not happy about having you here," his mom had said. "We're thrilled. The whole time you were away, we felt like a piece of our hearts were missing. Right, Robert?"
"Of course," his dad had agreed. "Between losing Sophia and my health problems last year, you boys mean more to us than ever. Having you here means more than you could know. We had only one child left here in Kittle Falls last year, and now we have all you boys except Rafael, and you know how hard your mom is working on bring him back to town."
Zachary shook his head. "I know how much effort she put into trying to bring me home."
"It goes double for Rafael now that he's the last one," his dad said. "She doesn't have to split her time between you and him anymore."
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