Hope

by Tia Wylder

  “An excellent choice, ma’am. And you, sir?” The waiter prompted nervously. Mark’s eye twitched, and Jasmine could only wonder what on Earth had him so worked up.

  “The same. Rare,” Mark said sharply. Then, he drew his eyes away from the woman and met Jasmine’s gaze. She struggled not to look angry, but she couldn’t deny she felt a bit scorned now. The waiter shuffled away without another word, seeming to take the cue that he wasn’t wanted at that moment.

  “Mark, what’s wrong with you? You’ve been tense ever since… ever since you started watching that woman over there,” she said sourly, only for Mark to look as if he had been stricken. She worried as his cheeks flushed a bright red.

  “I’m… sorry. It’s not… God, it’s not what you think. That’s my ex-wife. She’s had it out for me ever since the divorce finalized, and I just… I really hope she doesn’t try to ruin our evening together,” he blurted. Jasmine felt as if her heart dropped into her stomach, and she reached out to guide Mark’s attention towards her.

  “Oh, Mark. You don’t have to worry. I know how divorces can be. She probably won’t even notice us, though. Like you told me, just try to enjoy yourself,” she said gently. He hesitated before slowly nodding his head. He poured a glass of wine for both and raised his glass. She raised her glass as well, though she had no idea what they were toasting.

  “To us, and the future,” he grinned. Jasmine smiled awkwardly, clinking their glasses together.

  “Cheers,” they both said before taking a sip from their respective glasses. Jasmine rumbled in delight, the taste of the wine dancing across her palate. She turned back the wine glass, swallowing the rest of the wine in big gulps. Mark watched her with an amused expression, and she realized abruptly how rude she was acting.

  “S-sorry. I’ve never really had the opportunity to drink wine before. At least, not good wine,” she explained weakly.

  “It’s fine, love,” he murmured, giving a slight pause. “I just hope you’re aware of how absolutely darling you are,” he continued, swishing the wine in his glass before taking a sip.

  “Oh, hush. I must look like alcoholic chugging this expensive vintage. How much is it per bottle, anyway?” Jasmine demanded, examining the bottle for clues. Mark reached out to take the bottle from her grip, pouring her another glass with a cheeky smile.

  “It’s worth every penny if I get to see you absolutely plastered,” he teased. Jasmine snickered, her unease at getting drunk slipping away somewhat. She was certain that Mark wouldn’t do anything horrible to her, and if he were to make a move on her, it wouldn’t exactly be received badly.

  “It’ll take more than two glasses of wine, I hope you know,” she hummed, sipping from her glass in a ladylike manner. Mark grinned, sliding the bottle of wine across the table to her. “Oh, you have to be kidding me. I’d look like a total drunk,” she laughed, gripping the bottle. He tilted his head adorably, beginning to clap his hands on the table.

  “Come on, Jas. Chug! Chug! Chug,” he said as loudly as he was able while managing to retain what privacy they still had. Jasmine rolled her eyes, bringing the bottle to her lips and tipping it back. She could feel Mark’s eyes upon her, watching her in morbid fascination. She supposed he had never seen a woman chug a whole bottle of wine before. Well, she’d had a good bit of practice with alcohol in her lifetime. As she swallowed the last drop, she placed the bottle down on the table and quirked a brow daringly.

  “You just drank ten thousand dollars,” Mark said, his voice filled with awe. Jasmine choked on her own saliva, staring at him through wide and pleading eyes.

  “Tell me you’re kidding. Jesus Christ, it was good, but not that good!” She blurted loudly, drawing the attention of the nearby patrons of the restaurant. She reddened, sinking down into her seat until the interest waned.

  “Oh, I’m not joking. That was a ten-thousand-dollar bottle of wine. Don’t worry too much about that, however. I’ve spent much more on things with much less entertainment value,” he grinned. Jasmine remained silent, her mind spinning from spending more than twenty bucks on a bottle of wine. Well, she supposed it could also be spinning due to the amount of alcohol she’d drank in such a brief period. A giggle bubbled past her lips, and she slumped in her seat as the waiter approached with their food.

  “Oh god, I don’t even think I can eat after that,” she said, slurring her words slightly. Mark quirked a brow, watching her with a cocky smile.

  “Oh, come on. Don’t try and be all ladylike now. You lost your chance at that when you chugged that wine like a frat boy with a kegger,” he grinned. Jasmine mused that she might have been offended, or even embarrassed, but she couldn’t think past the pleasant haze that was beginning to settle in her thoughts. She slumped further in her seat, smiling slyly at the man across the table. Mark watched her curiously, and she decided that she would rather like to see him lose his cool in a much more pleasant manner than before. She unfolded her legs underneath the table, slipping her heel off of her foot and stroking her stocking clad foot up the inside of Mark’s leg. His eyes widened almost comically, and he slammed into the table in his shocking attempt to draw away.

  “What, you don’t want to play?” Jasmine teased, not even bothering to feign an interest in the delectable food that had been placed on the table. Mark hesitated, looking around the immediate area to see if anyone was watching. He breathed a sigh, settling back into his seat and brushing his foot against hers. She giggled, unaware of the woman approaching the table until she was nearly on top of them.

  “Mark Stanford, of all the bastards I could have come across,” the blonde murmured, looking at Jasmine with a quirked brow. “And is this your current plaything?” She inquired mockingly. Mark sat up in his seat, his expression grew angry once more.

  “Deborah, I’m asking you nicely. Leave us to our meal, and go drain the life out of some other man,” he growled. Jasmine’s eyes widened in amusement, but the woman seemed nonplussed by his retort.

  “Oh, Marky Mark. Don’t ever change. Oh, wait. It doesn’t seem you plan to anytime soon. Already fooling around with another girl?” Deborah hummed, leaning in all too closely to get a better look at Jasmine. Jasmine flinched away, the alcohol clouding her brain making her motions slow and sloppy. “A pleasure to meet you, darling. I’m Deborah Lane, Mark’s ex-wife,” she said cordially. Jasmine’s mouth fell agape, and as she struggled to formulate a response, Mark was already snapping at the woman again.

  “The divorce finalized ages ago, Deb. Shouldn’t you be moving on by now? Like you’ve moved on from our daughter, apparently?” He bit out coldly. The woman looked taken aback at that comment, turning narrowed eyes upon the angry billionaire.

  “Every moment I spent with our daughter was a reminder of your betrayal. I love Jenny, but with your genes, I am not optimistic for her future,” Deborah said snidely. Jasmine lurched upright, pointing an angry finger at the woman.

  “Jenny is a precious little angel, and you’re not worth your weight in crap if you can speak so poorly about her,” she bit out, the words carrying a bit less weight than they would have if she were sober. As it stood, a mildly strong breeze would have been enough to knock Jasmine off her feet, but she wasn’t about to sit and let some ditzy blonde insult her own daughter.

  “Oh, this again? Really, Mark? You’re that much of a one trick pony?” Deborah inquired boredly, and Mark leaped out of his seat, lurching towards the woman as if he intended to strike her. He simply got in her face, baring his teeth in a near snarl.

  “Don’t drag her into our affairs, you hag. I’m giving you one last chance to get out of here,” he hissed.

  “Or what? Are you going to hit me? Have you dropped to that level as well?” The blonde ex-wife said tauntingly. The ferocity behind the argument sent fearful shivers down Jasmine’s spine, and she was beginning to grow vaguely queasy. The pleasant high of her excessive drinking was crashing quickly, and she needed to break up this fight by any means necessary. She c
lumsily rose to her feet, reaching out to touch Mark’s arm. He jerked away, his hands clenched at his sides.

  “You have no right to continue to try and ruin my life. We’re not married anymore. You have no say in my life,” Mark shouted, drawing the attention of nearly everyone in the restaurant. The beautiful sounds of the piano came to an abrupt stop, and it seemed the eyes of everyone in the entire restaurant were upon them at that moment.

  “I may have no say in your life, but I can save another woman from your trap,” Deborah said darkly, turning to face Jasmine. Jasmine shrunk beneath the other woman’s gaze, but the blonde’s expression softened somewhat as the two sized each other up. She stepped closer to Jasmine, resting a hand on her shoulder. “I’m giving you a fair warning because I wish someone had done the same for me. Do not get tangled in Mark Stanford’s web. It’ll bring you nothing but heartache,” she said earnestly. The queasy feeling rose up in Jasmine’s throat again, and she turned pleading eyes towards Mark. He shoved his ex-wife away, seeming intent upon screaming a thousand more curses upon her. All Jasmine wanted to do at that moment, however, was left. She hesitated, reaching out to touch Mark’s arm once more. He stopped in the midst of his tirade at Deborah, turning his angry gaze upon Jasmine herself.

  “What!?” He demanded, his voice cold. Jasmine drew away hesitantly, tears springing to her eyes unbidden. Though she’d not known Mark long, she had certainly never expected to see such anger from the man. While she knew divorces tended to get ugly, but for him to put his hands on his ex-wife seemed unthinkable. Now his anger was turned on her, and she was afraid that she might say the wrong thing.

  “I just… Mark, can we please just leave? This is getting out of hand,” she said in a soft and pleading voice. Mark narrowed his eyes towards her, his body quaking with anger. Then, he realized that it was no longer his ex-wife alone who was suffering his rage. He took a step back, trying to compose himself.

  “I...I’m sorry, Jasmine. Let’s go,” he said urgently. He reached out to take her by the arm, but she drew away, skittering towards the exit of the restaurant.

  “This is only the beginning sweetheart! Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Deborah called out. Tears spilled freely down Jasmine’s cheeks, and though she knew she wasn’t really Mark’s girlfriend, the pain she felt at that moment was all too real.

  She stepped out into the cold evening air, wrapping her arms around herself and sniffling softly. She said nothing as Mark stepped out into the night, stepping up beside her. He stared imploringly at her, but at that moment, the emotion was too raw-- too fresh.

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated, his sorrow sounding sincere. Jasmine hesitated, brushing the tears away from her eyes before speaking.

  “Can you just call the limo?” She inquired shakily. Mark’s jaw clenched, but he exhaled a weary sigh and withdrew his cellphone. With a swift text to the limo driver, their ride appeared in minutes.

  This time, Jasmine sat as far from Mark as possible. Perhaps later she could forgive him. For now, however, she just wanted to sleep this whole thing off.

  The ride home was a silent one, with Jasmine trying to ignore the longing gazes Mark repeatedly turned on her. She wanted to blow the situation off and return home on a good note. The way he’d treated his ex conveyed something, however, that struck an unpleasant chord within her. Mark seemed extremely apologetic for his part, but she wasn’t quite able to put his furious gaze behind her quite yet.

  When they arrived home, she slipped out of the limousine before anyone had the opportunity to open her door for her. She stalked towards the front door of the estate, yanking it open and stepping inside without a word. Mark trailed behind her, the babysitter he’d hired watching them with a bemused expression. For all Jasmine cared, the acne ridden jailbait could have her fun with the man. She supposed she had gotten a little ahead of herself in thinking the man was some sort of a dream come true, but she hadn’t realized how quickly she would be proven wrong. She inhaled a quaking breath, making her way upstairs and towards her guest room. She could hear Jenny calling out behind her, and she hesitated, glancing over her shoulder to acknowledge the young girl.

  “Miss Jasmine, I take it the date didn’t go well,” Mark’s young daughter inquired balefully, and Jasmine hesitated for a moment before replying. It wasn’t Jenny’s fault that her father was acting like a real asshole, and she couldn’t find it within herself to treat the girl poorly because of it. She quirked a small smile, reaching out to muss up Jenny’s hair.

  “Don’t worry, sweetie. Things will work out fine, I’m sure,” she said gently. Jenny pouted, sticking her bottom lip out as far as she could manage. Jasmine chuckled, patting the girl on the head before turning back to retreat into her room. “I’ll be out in a bit to put you to bed,” Jasmine called out, and Jenny nodded uncertainly. The young girl trailed off to her own room, apparently intent on waiting for Jasmine to elaborate further on the date. Jasmine wasn’t sure she wanted to divulge any details of the incident with Mark’s daughter, not to mention the more intimate details being entirely out of the question. She would kill for a genuine girl friend to discuss things with, but for Jasmine, friends tended to be very rare. It made for a rather lonely existence, but it was one she had grown used to. She wasn’t sure how, exactly, to go out and make new friends. She was hoping to have one in Mark, and if she were honest, she would have liked it to go a little further than friendship. That seemed entirely out of the question as it stood then, however. She sighed, slipping into the walk-in closet and shimmying out of her cocktail dress. She dressed in a simple long pajama top and a pair of sleep shorts, looking in the mirror to take the bobby pins out of her hair. She stepped out of the closet, shifting towards the bathroom to wash the makeup off her face. Now, she wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and sleep this whole situation away. However, she had made a promise to put Jenny to bed, and she intended to hold true on it. She dried her face with a towel, considering her reflection for a long moment. She looked utterly and completely exhausted, being honest with herself. She simply hoped the young girl in her care wouldn’t trouble herself too much with the affairs of the older inhabitants of the house.

  She slipped out of her bedroom, shuffling towards Jenny’s room where she knew the young girl would be waiting. She brushed her hair behind her ear as she stepped through the door, smiling at Jenny where she sat on her exorbitantly large bed. Though Jasmine had no idea what such a young girl needed with such a large bed, it at the very least made their occasional heart to hearts a bit more comfortable. She sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to take Jenny by the hand. Jenny looked far more troubled than such an innocent young girl should, and Jasmine had a feeling that she had much to do with that.

  “Do you not like my daddy?” Jenny inquired, getting straight to the point. Jasmine looked stricken, knowing she could not explain the totality of the situation. She hesitated, squeezing the young girl’s hand.

  “Your daddy is very kind. I like him a lot,” she said gently, and Jenny’s eyes welled up with tears.

  “But you’re still going to leave us, aren’t you?” She sniffled, causing Jasmine’s eyes to widen dramatically.

  “Oh, honey, no. It’s nothing as serious as that. I’m going to stay on as your nanny for as long as I’m able, but…,” she trailed off, glancing towards the doorway. Though he was out of sight, she was sure she could sense Mark listening in. “I’m not opposed to giving your daddy a second chance. I just need some time to… think things over. I’m not leaving you, and I’m not leaving him alone,” Jasmine assured her, reaching out to brush the girl’s hair away from her eyes. Jenny nodded sullenly, and Jasmine pulled her into a tight hug.

  “Well… If things aren’t totally broken… like with mommy,” Jenny muttered. Jasmine hesitated, kissing the girl’s forehead.

  “I’m sure it will work out, sweetheart. Even if it doesn’t, you and I will always be friends,” she assured the girl. Jenny hummed her acknowledgment, and
Jasmine rose from the bed, drawing back the blankets to properly tuck her in. Jenny still looked troubled, but there was not much Jasmine could do to sooth Jenny. She slipped out of Jenny’s room, immediately spying Mark lingering near her room. She hesitated, drawing in a shaky breath before closing the distance between them. Mark smiled nervously, and Jasmine gave pause before half-heartedly returning the expression. She tried to edge past him, gripping the doorknob to her room.

  “Jasmine, I was hoping I could have a word with you,” he muttered, fidgeting uncomfortably beneath her gaze.

  “I’m not so sure that’s a clever idea right now, Mark. Give me some time to sleep this off. We can talk in the morning, after we’ve both… cooled off a bit,” she said gently, reaching out to rest a hand on his cheek. He breathed a sigh, resting his hand on top of hers. His touch was gentle, and it was almost enough to make Jasmine reconsider her position. However, she drew away from the man, offering him a sad smile. “Tomorrow,” she promised.

  “Alright… goodnight then, Jasmine,” Mark murmured. She slipped into her room, closing the door behind her. She was certain she had never felt so torn in her life. Who was the real Mark? The kind one she had come to know and adore, or the man with the violent temper?