by Cynthia Dane
Since she was dressed more for comfort than style today – although her hair looked fantastic – Jasmine settled in a booth, ordered some tea and a sandwich, and pulled out a notebook she always carried in her bags.
“Volunteering,” she wrote in the top margin. Beneath it, she jotted down a list of numbers, determined to put words in beside them.
What were different volunteer ideas she could do? Well, there were schools, homeless shelters, and of course the cute fuzzy animals. Jasmine circled that last one because she was an animal lover first and foremost, if her cats could be considered. She liked dogs too. And bunnies! She even liked animals that weren’t considered “cute,” like reptiles and fish. She got used to them growing up with the hippie parents. They went from having a cute two-bedroom house with a backyard full of chickens and pigs to spending her high school years living on the outskirts of a co-op plantation. After she graduated and went off to college? Her parents fully joined the plantation as residents.
Maybe I should call my mom… Talk to her about the whole baby thing. Except Jasmine rarely talked to her parents as it was. Not because she didn’t care about them, but because they had so little in common. Ethan hadn’t even met them yet.
Besides, Jasmine didn’t want to think about any of that until after Wednesday. If she were pregnant, she would deal with it then.
After lunch, Jasmine decided to get some exercise and do retail therapy. She went to the nearest mall, a place that was a far cry from the shopping neighborhood she went to in Miami. Back when she was a poor girl working temp jobs and living in a veritable pit of Hell, this was the place she came to so she could window shop and dream of spending a hundred dollars on a dress or bag. Now she could have her pick without a second thought. She didn’t buy much that day, though. Nothing really caught her eye, aside from a few pieces of jewelry in a place that sold cubic zirconia and fake gold. She stood in front of the pet shelter that was there once a week and cooed at the kittens piling on top of each other – while there, she made a considerable donation that brought all the staff and volunteers out to thank her. Let’s just say my rent used to be about that much. Jasmine also bought some handmade catnip toys to take home to her furry squad.
No, what killed her on that trip wasn’t the pet shelter. Nor was it fresh pretzels. Nope. What shot her right in the heart was a children’s clothing store right next to a toy shop.
Jasmine stood in front of the window, studying the tiny mannequins dressed in Easter best. Pastel dresses. Dapper little suits. Loud colors and crazy patterns, since these were for children who had yet to be embarrassed by anything. A little girl came out of the store with her mother, who begged her to slow down. Apparently they were heading to the food court to get burgers for lunch.
Is that gonna be me soon?
The toyshop was even worse. Excited kids of varying ages running around, picking up train sets, dolls, puzzles, model cars and planes, franchises that were both familiar to Jasmine and totally new. Things sure have changed. A boy pretended to have a tea party with his baby sister while a girl rolled around with a water gun. When a clerk came up to the window to clean up a trainset on display, Jasmine smiled at her, wondering if this young woman had kids too.
“Do you think they have anything appropriate here?” asked a woman behind Jasmine. She saw the reflection of a heavily pregnant woman and someone who was probably her mother in the window. “I’m not familiar with this place.”
“They must have baby toys in the back. Definitely stuffed animals. Let’s go inside!”
“I just worry about picking something Sammie won’t like. Not like I know her personality yet.”
“You know enough as her mother and how she lives inside of you. She doesn’t kick much, no? Maybe she’s very tender and considerate. She would probably like stuffed animals and soft dolls a lot.”
“You sure?”
“Of course not, silly girl. You’re right. You don’t know your baby’s personality until well after she’s born, but you discover her personality through what you give her to play with. How can Sammie show you who she is if she doesn’t have things to express herself with? All we can do is make sure they’re safe.”
“I suppose you’re right. So, stuffed animals?”
“You know that stuffed monkey you were obsessed with as a little girl? I bought that before you were born. I had no idea if you would like it or not. I just saw it one day and thought, ‘I have to buy that for my baby.’ I just knew.”
“I surely see your point. Let’s go inside.”
Jasmine followed them in. The mother and pregnant daughter went to the children’s books and baby learning toys first, while Jasmine meandered down the stuffed animal aisle.
She didn’t know what she was looking for. She put her hand on her stomach and searched the mountains of stuffed dolls and animals. Perhaps a good five minutes went by, with other parents coming and going, some children begging for this doll or that. Who knew? Jasmine was lost – literally and figuratively.
Finally, her hand snatched something. She held up a stuffed white cat, sitting prim with a smile on its face and a loose tail wagging back and forth with the movements of Jasmine’s hands. A marble in its head made it sound like it was purring.
Clutching it, Jasmine took it up to the counter without even looking at the price tag.
“Where to?” her driver asked fifteen minutes later. Jasmine stared in the toyshop bag, looking into the smiling eyes of the stuffed cat. I love cats… would my baby love cats? Or would it be like Ethan, who was completely indifferent… even if he were a cat magnet?
“Let’s go to Ethan’s office,” she blurted. The driver nodded and pulled the car out of its parking space. I don’t know why I’m going there. The hormones. The hormones were making her do it. She wanted a hug from her boyfriend while she was in town. Maybe she would suggest going to the penthouse that night so they could be alone. And cuddle. I want to cuddle him forever. He’d probably fall asleep in two minutes, but that was okay.
The concierge on the ground floor stood up and nodded at Jasmine as she walked by, one shopping bag in hand. The elevator attendant smiled and gave his greetings. Jasmine didn’t even have to ask to go to the executive offices. The attendant recognized her, not only from her days of working there, but from being his boss’s girlfriend.
The office was relatively quiet when she arrived. All she heard was the fountain by the elevator and the occasional ring of a telephone. Nadia sat behind her receptionist’s desk. As Jasmine approached, that head of red glanced up, double-taking before sucking in her breath.
“Hey,” Nadia greeted, her perfectly white teeth glistening in the light. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I was in the neighborhood and thought I would drop by.” Jasmine clutched her two bags. “Is Ethan in?”
Nadia dropped the smile. “He is, but…”
“But?”
She also dropped her voice. Nadia had to lean in to hear her. “He’s in a very important meeting and doesn’t want to be disturbed unless it’s an absolute emergency. Like… you’ve got your entrails dragging behind you kind of emergency.”
“I see. How much longer?”
“I don’t know. These kinds of meetings have been lasting either half an hour or five. He’s been in there for about an hour now. I think they started with lunch and moved here.”
Jasmine squared her shoulders. “Is it a partnership interview.”
Nadia nodded.
“Then I’ll make sure to not bother him. I’ll hang out for a while in case it ends. If he asks… it’s not an emergency.” Just my feelings going haywire. Nothing new.
Jasmine turned and saw someone sitting at the desk she used to occupy. She then turned back to Nadia and asked in a whisper, “That’s Amber, right?”
“Yup.”
“She’s not in the meeting taking notes?”
“Nope. He hasn’t been wanting anyone in there for those meetings. Super hush-hush.” N
adia slouched in her seat. “Don’t give her too hard of a time. She’s nice, and has a boyfriend. Who isn’t Mr. Cole.”
“I heard that.”
“You were supposed to.”
Jasmine scoffed. “You two friends, huh?”
Shrugging, Nadia said, “We have lunch. You’re funnier, though.”
That was good enough for Jasmine. She fluffed her hair and checked her balance in her heels as she walked over to the personal assistant’s desk by the window.
“Oh… hi.” Amber jerked back in her seat when she caught sight of Jasmine. Naturally, she looked her up and down, seeing the high class opulence that Jasmine now almost took for granted. She should see me when I really give a damn. Personal stylist on call? Check. “Can I help you?”
“Just thought I would properly introduce myself since we haven’t really met before. I’m Jasmine.” She didn’t think she needed any other introduction.
Amber cocked her head, her dark blond hair threatening to fall out of the bun on top of her head. Her skinny – no, bony – arms flapped like chicken wings as she scooted back in her chair and dropped her pen. “Oh, Jasmine! You’re the Jasmine, huh?”
“The… Jasmine?”
“Mr. Cole talks about you all the time. At least once a day he asks me to write a reminder regarding you.”
“That so?”
“Wow… you’re really pretty.”
Jasmine cleared her throat. “Is he taking good care of you? I used to have your job. It wasn’t easy.” Ahem.
“Oh, Mr. Cole is a dream to work for. Brutal, sometimes, but I got into the swing of things pretty quickly.”
“Naturally.” Jasmine couldn’t help it. Whenever she came into this office, she thought of many things… primarily having sex with Ethan. They usually did it in his office, but the supply closet was not off limits. My tits have been on that copying machine. As far as she knew, Mr. Cole still kept a copy in his bottom desk drawer that not even the cleaning lady got to go into. So how could she not assume that Amber saw it the same way? A place she fucks my boyfriend. She knew that was foolish. Irrational. Ethan was not cheating on her. He would be a total dumbass to do so. Not like he doesn’t get enough at home anyway.
Having attempted the bare minimum of niceties, Jasmine detoured to the women’s restroom. By the time she emerged, Nadia was waving at her from the receptionist’s desk.
“His meeting is over. I told him that you were here waiting to see him, and he said to give him a few minutes to ‘sort things out.’ You can go in about another two.”
“Thanks,” Jasmine said, already heading to the double doors leading to Ethan’s office. “I’ll go in now. I’ll make sure he knows it’s not your fault.” If Ethan was feeling touchy after a bad meeting, he might take it out on someone who worked beneath him. Not that both Jasmine and Nadia hadn’t seen it all by now.
Ethan sat behind his desk, bent over the trash can, dumping shredded documents. He glanced up when Jasmine entered and latched the door behind her. By the look on his face, he was not impressed to see his girlfriend waltzing in ahead of time.
“Hey,” she said, leaning against his desk. It’s exactly the same as when I stopped working here. Ethan preferred minimalism in his downtown office – not like his home office was noticeably more cluttered. Then again, he didn’t entertain other big-wigs in his home unless he was on friendly terms with them. “Don’t worry, you didn’t make me wait long.” She tossed her freshly trimmed hair for emphasis. A hair appointment he paid for on a tab.
Ethan dropped the trashcan and sat up straight, his face fluctuating between friendly and frustrated. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”
“What does that mean?”
Ethan looked in the trashcan. “Nothing.”
“Well… I was in the neighborhood and really wanted to see you.”
At last, he put on his usual flirty grin and sat back in his leather chair, arms opened wide. “Here I am. Like what you see?”
Jasmine tsked in her throat as she rounded the desk and stood before him. “Maybe. You’re not a bad looking guy.”
Her boyfriend uncrossed his legs and patted his lap. “I can’t say no to you. Come over here. You’re beautiful in that dress.”
“This thing? It barely cost two-hundred dollars.” Came from a department store. Hardly the boutique fair women like Kathryn Alison wore. I saw it earlier. Rocking that pencil-skirt dress. Sigh.
“I care because why?”
Jasmine sank into his lap, happy to wrap her arms around his shoulders and kiss his cheek. This aftershave kills me. So spicy. Just like he could be. “Because I am powerful enough to make your assistant quiver in her Prada heels.”
“She wears Prada?”
“Oh, shush.”
Ethan was silent for a few seconds as he tapped a pen on the table, the head coming in and out with every smack. “What’s in the bag?” he finally asked. “I can’t imagine what you bought at a toyshop. I doubt it’s the kind of toy we’re into.”
You might be surprised… Jasmine wasn’t going there. She picked up the bag and presented it to Ethan, who opened it and peered inside.
“What the…” He pulled out the stuffed cat. Jasmine took it from him and placed it on his desk. “What’s this about?”
He looked to Jasmine for an answer. She was going to give him one, but decided to merely gaze into his eyes, hoping he was intuitive enough to guess her meaning. Of course he’s intuitive. He wouldn’t have this damned office if he wasn’t.
“Jasmine…” Ethan said, as if he were about to reprimand her. “We don’t know anything.” His tone implied that he expected her to be able to stop thinking about it. I don’t have work to distract me. You’re also not the pregnant one. “I don’t think there’s a need to…”
She put a finger on his lips. “A woman knows,” she said, trying to sound like every other woman she ever heard saying such things. “I don’t want to hear anything about it right now.” Her arm snaked back behind his head, their noses almost touching. “Now, how about we get dinner out later? Let’s stay in the penthouse tonight. I want to go to sleep looking out at the view.”
“All right. We can stay in the penthouse, if you call Belinda to let her know to not expect us for dinner and to give them the night off.”
“I will, as soon as I leave.”
Ethan tipped her chin up. “Give me a kiss before you go.”
It was the kind of kiss that could have turned into something else if he had time and if she were feeling up to it. However, they were both content with the ten seconds they had, lips tapping together and his fingers dancing through her hair and on the back of her neck. “My flower,” he muttered. “I look forward to seeing you later. It’s been a long day already.”
She slipped off his lap and picked up her bags, making sure the stuffed cat was back in its own. “I’m sure it has. Nadia told me you were interviewing a potential partner.”
Jasmine had never seen Ethan look so serious before. Or was it pensive? Not distressed. Definitely not distressed. “It was an odd meeting. I still don’t know what to think of it.”
“Well, I won’t bother you with it.” Jasmine blew him a kiss and twiddled her fingers. “I’ll see you later for dinner. Okay?”
“Sure.”
She showed herself out, rapping on Nadia’s desk on her way by and stealing a glance at Amber on her computer. Before she went into the hall, she heard Ethan’s voice come over Amber’s intercom and summon her. The blond girl shot back in her seat and scrambled to grab her pen and notebook. Maybe she was harmless.
The elevator attendant nodded to her again when she entered. Before the doors could close, however, a feminine voice called for it to be held. The attendant put out a gloved hand to stop the doors from closing while he pushed a button with the other hand.
A tall woman wearing a white sweetheart dress and a tight, black leather belt stepped into the elevator beside Jasmine. Wow. Now here’s a put together wom
an. Besides the nice dress, she wore a set of diamond jewelry that glittered in the overhead light. Her chestnut brown hair was looped in a fancy bun – far fancier than Amber’s. This woman’s posture, her smart makeup, and the fancy bag hanging from her hand all suggested she knew what she was about. And rich. Filthy rich. More in the Kathryn Alison way than the Monica Graham – er, Warren.
“Hi,” she said with a smooth, melodic voice. I want to hear her sing… read a story out loud… something… Jasmine didn’t react that way to voices very often. “Sorry about that. Hope I haven’t held you up.”
Her kindly face nearly melted Jasmine’s heart. “Oh, it’s no problem. I’m not in a hurry.”
After making sure no one else was coming, the attendant closed the elevator doors. “What floor, ma’am?”
“Oh, ground floor, please. My car is waiting out front.”
She opened her purse and pulled out a compact and a tube of lipstick. She spent the whole ride down touching up her makeup in the elevator mirrors, carefully stealing glimpses of Jasmine – just like Jasmine continued to steal glimpses of her. This is the kind of woman I should be. I want to look this confident walking around… wearing those clothes…
“You must be Jasmine,” the woman said. “You’re a lovely young lady. I’m not surprised he would go for a woman like you.”
Jasmine didn’t have time to confirm nor deny before the elevator doors opened. The woman burst out, hustling to catch a car and driver waiting for her just outside the revolving door. Jasmine stood in the lobby, dumbfounded, phone in her hand as she finally finished texting her own driver to meet her out front too. Who was that? The woman had looked familiar. Where had she seen her before?
The wedding.
The woman who had caught Ethan’s eye when they were dancing. Yes, that had to be the same woman! How did she know Ethan? How did she recognize Jasmine?
