Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
I lock the door. Lower the shades facing the floor. Turn to the window.
It's already late morning. Almost noon. The sky is a brilliant shade of blue. The sun is shining. The water is sparkling.
I'm far enough south I can see where the Hudson and the East River meet. I can see the lush trees of Battery Park.
They were a soft pink two months ago. Now, they're a bright green. A shade that screams of a coming summer.
Hopeful.
For once, I appreciate it.
I pull my cell from my pocket. But it's not another picture of Jasmine in violet lingerie.
Jasmine: Just Lizzy. But he might be there. To drop her off. Or at their apartment.
My blood boils. My fucking brother. I don't need the reminder.
It's bad enough that bastard is reminding me of the timeline. It's bad enough I'm rushing the announcement. The wedding itself. The fucking planning.
Now I have to picture my brother making Jasmine come.
As much as I doubt Nick's intentions, I believe he loves his fiancée. He would do anything for Lizzy. He would never consider touching another woman. Not now.
Before he met Lizzy—
I need to erase that time from my mind. It's not like I was celibate. I slept with plenty of women. If Jasmine slept with another man, even my fucking brother—
I don't have any right to complain.
But my body fails to listen. My palms clench, my ears flame, my stomach churns.
I need her on my desk, her skirt at her waist, her legs spread wide, her back arching as she comes.
Fuck, I'm not holding onto my thoughts for long enough. I need to get a grip.
This wedding should be a joyous occasion. Sure, I'll never love Jasmine, but I do appreciate her. If I was going to choose a wife, it would be her.
Only it's not my choice. And even the promise of her soft thighs against my cheeks every day, for the rest of my life, isn't enough to erase that.
Nothing can erase the truth.
That bastard is pulling my strings again. No matter what I do, I'll never be out from under his thumb. If I didn't think there was some way he'd hold this over me from the grave, I'd kill him myself.
He deserves worse. He deserves a life of abject misery.
But I haven't managed that. I haven't managed to repay an ounce of the pain he gave me.
One day.
One day, I make him hurt.
Right now, I destroy his bullshit challenge.
Jasmine: Will it be a dry party?
Shep: No.
Jasmine: Do you think that's a good idea?
Maybe not, but I'm not about to advertise my sobriety to the world. Especially not with the likelihood that bastard will attend. I don't need him thinking he's done that to me too.
Shep: Last I heard, you drink gin. Bombay Sapphire.
Jasmine: Should I ask how you heard that?
Shep: Ian is coming, so I'll have five kinds of tonic water.
Jasmine: That seems excessive.
Shep: Apparently, there are a dozen varieties of Fever Tree. And most bars in London have at least three.
Jasmine: Are you mocking him? Or is he mocking you?
Shep: A little of both.
Jasmine: Wasn't he drinking bourbon at dinner?
Shep: Like I said, a little of both.
Jasmine: I'm glad you have a friend you can tease.
Huh. I don't usually think of Ian as a friend. Friends aren't really my concern. But I guess the word fits him.
Jasmine: Will Nick be there?
It would look strange if they didn't come.
But that presents a problem. A big problem.
My brother responded to that bastard differently. My brother prefers honesty and disclosure, at least when it comes to the people he trusts.
He trusts his fiancée.
And he trusts Jasmine.
Which means—
There's a possibility I need to prevent.
Shep: We should meet with them before the party. For dinner.
Jasmine: I was going to suggest that.
Shep: Great minds.
I'm sure her reasons are different. I'm sure she wants Nick and I to become best friends again.
Friend is pushing it.
But I do need his cooperation. His agreement. His silence.
I will convince him to keep his mouth shut. Whatever it takes.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jasmine
After a few games of Five Hundred Rummy, our millionth viewing of The Da Vinci Code, and Dad shaking his head at my inability to appreciate the brilliance of the movie—how can anyone dislike anything with Tom Hanks?—we take our lunch to the park.
The park. Outside. In the fresh air.
It's something else, seeing Dad walking on the grass. It's been a long time since he's been well enough to come here.
It's a beautiful day. Warm and sunny. I don't even mind my too thick dress. I don't mind overheating as I walk back to our apartment and hug Dad goodbye.
The car is waiting, of course. With the air-conditioning on high. By the time I'm back at Shep's place, I'm freezing.
And there it is. The afternoon tea Key promised, waiting for me. I guess Lock called to announce our ETA.