by Cynthia Dane
The driver knows where to go.
Belinda shrugged again when Jasmine asked her what was going on. The kitten meowed in earnest as it found a bug to pounce on.
So Ethan wants me to go downtown already… Jasmine wasn’t going to go until that afternoon. Maybe do some light shopping before stopping by the penthouse and getting ready for their date. She was under the impression her boyfriend would pick her up there around dinnertime. So much for that?
“Do you think I should dress nice?” she asked Belinda. “Or is this okay?” Jasmine gestured to her jeans and sweater.
“I honestly don’t know, Miss. I’m living vicariously through you at this point.”
Jasmine decided to take her chances with the jeans and sweater. Knowing Ethan, he would drag her down there for no reason, and what would she be dressed up for? Besides, the dress she wanted to wear was already at the penthouse. As long as she got enough time to go…
She was ready in twenty minutes. After petting Blackbeard goodbye, Jasmine grabbed a rain jacket “just in case” and headed out the door. She wasn’t surprised to find the Town Car and her driver already waiting for her.
Sit back and relax on your first ride today.
The driver will take you to your reservation.
You’ll be meeting an old friend, so keep your eyes peeled.
Sometimes it took almost an hour to get into the city. Other times it only took half an hour. Today is a was a healthy forty-five minutes, in part because it was late morning, but also because it was Saturday. Jasmine asked the driver multiple times where they were going, but he informed her that Ethan made it very, very clear that it was to be a surprise. Jasmine slumped in her seat and sent Ethan a text message. “What is going on? What are you up to?”
She never received a reply.
“Ethan,” she growled, putting her phone away. “I swear…”
Without knowing what awaited her, Jasmine shuffled back and forth in her seat, playing on her phone, trying to read a book like she usually did in the car, and begging the driver to tell her anything. Finally, she called Nadia and asked if she knew what was afoot. “Unfortunately, Amber probably knows better than me,” she mumbled. “She’s the assistant who sets things up for him. Not me.”
“I know, I know…” Jasmine had Amber’s number, as was customary, but she wasn’t about to call and ask for deets. They weren’t friends. Not by a long shot.
The car acted as if it were going to the penthouse. Yet it passed by the residential building, instead heading for the commercial district where Ethan worked and rich people played. The driver pulled up alongside a busy plaza and helped Jasmine get out of the car. She clutched her purse to her side and looked around.
“What’s going on? Seriously, now.”
The driver gestured to someone sitting on a bench near the central plaza fountain. “I’ll be nearby, Ms. Jasmine. Have a pleasant day.” He disappeared into the car. Jasmine’s phone buzzed immediately.
“Are you coming over or not?”
She looked up. Monica sat on the bench, her stomach bigger than her handbag.
“Don’t you work on Saturdays?” Jasmine asked, the moment she approached close enough to be heard. “It’s your biggest day…”
These shrugs people kept giving her were going to drive her up the wall. Why won’t anyone speak to me directly? Did Ethan put them up to this? Probably. His influence knew no bounds. At least he couldn’t pay Monica to keep quiet, like he could Belinda and the driver… although Ethan and Monica were incredibly close, so odds were good Monica would heed his wishes, even if she thought they were stupid.
“I am heading back toward the Château after you and I are finished.”
“Finished?”
Monica stood up, her center of gravity something to behold as she debunked everyone who ever told Jasmine that women pregnant for the first time didn’t usually show as much. Monica was only in her second trimester and already looked like she was inflating a beach ball beneath her dress. Sometimes Jasmine got brazen enough to ask to touch the pregnant woman’s stomach, but knew better. Oh, did she know better by now.
“Ethan has asked me to make sure you are ready for your date tonight. Actually, I volunteered. This is going to be fun.”
“Get ready?” Jasmine paled. “Oh, no, he doesn’t want to do some crazy BDSM thing does he? Because he did not go over that with me first!”
Monica muffled herself. Even so, Jasmine could still hear the laughter bursting out from beneath. “Goodness, no. Perfectly vanilla, I assure you.”
“So you know what’s going on?”
Monica pulled another card from her bag. “I’m supposed to give you this.”
Jasmine was quick to snatch it.
I’m leaving you in her hands.
Have fun, but be at the penthouse by five.
You need to get ready.
I have big plans for you.
Enjoy your afternoon.
“I am starting to worry about what’s going on.”
“Don’t,” Monica reassured her. “You’re going to remember today forever.”
“Why’s that?”
“Ah, I said too much already.”
Monica hooked her arm around Jasmine’s and led her across the plaza. Since they were in the middle of the shopping district, it was a quick jaunt to everyone’s favorite boutique, The Crimson Dove. It had recently been remodeled, now sporting a, well, crimson dove above the sign. The inside was much of the same, however, and Jasmine was glad that the likes of Gertrude the shopping assistant recognized her and knew her by name, because Jasmine was not dressed to shop at the most exclusive place in town. This shop was not afraid to turn away customers, as their small sign by the front door said in five different languages.
The first time I came here, it was on Ethan’s dime. He had asked her to pick out some new work outfits and a dress to wear for their first Valentine’s Day together. He made me buy two, because he tore apart the first one. It was hot then, and it was hot to think about now. Ethan rarely went to those extremes during sex, though, and never with clothes he didn’t recently purchase himself. I wonder if he’s going to tear me out of my clothes tonight… Jasmine realized she was spacing out in the middle of the city’s most expensive boutique and shook her head out.
“…Mr. Cole has authorized the use of his card today…” Gertrude the assistant reassured Monica. “No spending limit.”
“Excellent. Then I’m sure you’re looking forward to the commission you’re about to get thanks to Mr. Cole’s generosity.”
Gertrude said nothing, but her smile was telling.
Jasmine’s natural inclination was to purchase a dress. There were a multitude to pick out, each one silkier, more colorful, and classier than the last, but Monica waved her away from the displays and gestured to something Gertrude held in her hands.
A card.
Another damned card.
Had Ethan gone spreading them all over the city?
I don’t doubt that my flower is waiting to spend my money
But what if told you that whatever you pick
You won’t be wearing tonight?
Nevertheless, enjoy yourself.
“Here.” Monica shoved a pair of blue pumps in Jasmine’s hands. “Try these on.”
Jasmine didn’t have to think about a single thing that afternoon. Everywhere she turned, she was pampered with kindness and extravagance. She didn’t even have to peruse the wares at the boutique on her own. She sat on a plush couch, drinking expensive champagne and having both Gertrude and Monica pick things out for her. Cashmere. Exquisite silks. Fine, handstitched lace and beadwork. Wherever Jasmine turned, her favorite colors appeared, draping across her arm or gracing her feet. Monica insisted that a pair of white gloves were just what Jasmine needed, even though she had never owned a pair in her life. The woman walked around so much, grabbing this and that, mulling them over to herself and then tossing them at Jasmine that the special woman of th
e day worried that her friend would overextend her delicate disposition: but Monica didn’t sit down to rest until it was time for Jasmine to try on and model some clothes.
They left the boutique with four new outfits, gloves, shoes, and enough accessories to decorate a bridal party. The driver helped Gertrude pack them into the back of the car. Jasmine thought this was the end of her time with Monica, but she was informed that there was still the salon to contend with.
“What are we doing?” Raul asked, fluffing out Jasmine’s hair. Monica sat in a chair by the workstation and stared at Jasmine’s reflection. Both stylist and friend seemed to be looking at her from another dimension. Do I get an opinion? Apparently not.
“Give her a wave. A few curls.” Monica nodded at her own suggestion. “Nothing too elaborate. Should look effortless.”
“With this beautiful hair? Easy.”
While Jasmine was pampered in the stylist’s chair, a woman Jasmine sometimes saw stopped by with a makeup kit and a selection of nail polishes. Jasmine had never sprung for the full stylist’s special at this salon because… well, she wasn’t sure why. Because she never had a reason to? I apparently do today, even though I don’t know what for. By now, Jasmine was going with it. It couldn’t be that bad if Monica was in on it. Maybe.
Her nails were painted a faint lavender. It wasn’t a color Jasmine would ever choose for herself, but it melded flawlessly with her light skin. So did the makeup palette chosen, a glorious assortment of purples and light reds that lined her lips, her eyes, and touched up her cheeks. By the time the makeup artist was done with her, Raul was also finished, showing off Jasmine’s locks of wavy hair that looked as fresh as they always did whenever she stepped out of this salon.
I barely recognize myself. It didn’t help that she wore this fancy makeup with her plain black sweater and otherwise drab jeans. Naturally, they were both designer, but they were a far cry from the dress Monica wore or even the skirt and blouse bedecking the stylist’s body.
“This is where we part,” Monica said outside of the salon. “Your driver will take you to the penthouse. Everything will make sense after that.”
Jasmine took Monica by the hand before she could wander away to her own car. “Thank you. I don’t know what’s going on, but thank you.”
Monica smiled. “Do let me know how it goes. You showed up today, so it must finally be happening.”
“I’ll take your word on it.”
“Do so.” Monica kissed her cheek before insisting she had to get going if she wanted to make it up to her Château by peak business time that night.
Jasmine hopped in the back of the car, asking the driver if he liked her new makeup. He told her it was beautiful as he pulled away from the curb and toward the penthouse.
The doorman greeted her more loudly than usual. The elevator was waiting for her. Jasmine knew better than to expect Ethan up in the penthouse, but she expected some sort of presence. Instead, she found one of the cream-colored cards on the kitchen counter, probably placed there that morning before Ethan stepped out for the day.
If you’ve made it this far
Then you’ve come so close
To watching every fantasy come true
Your chariot leaves at 6:30
Check the bedroom. Cinderella’s gown awaits.
Jasmine dropped the card and went straight to the bedroom before someone could bring up her shopping bags.
There, sprawled out on the meticulously made bed, was a periwinkle… no, lavender… no, light purple tea dress that could have only been picked out by Ethan himself. All right, maybe someone helped him. Like Monica. Or Amber… or Adrienne… Jasmine pulled the dress off the bed and held it up to herself. She ignored the man bringing in her bags and boxes. Until it was time to tip him, anyway. By that point, Jasmine was so giddy that she pulled a Grant from her wallet and handed it to the man without a second thought. Suffice to say, he left whistling.
“You are the best,” Jasmine texted her boyfriend. She knew she wouldn’t get a response back, and she didn’t. It was five. Time to get ready with a bath and then pamper herself just like those people pampered her all day.
Rose-scented bubble bath. Music playing from her phone as she watched the sun set outside the window. The feel of comfortable lingerie covering her body after she got out of the tub and dried off. The dress slipping effortlessly over her limbs, and hanging perfectly on her body. How did he know my size so well? Never let it be said that Ethan didn’t pay attention to his girlfriend’s body. The women in his life probably helped with the numbers. “You say her breasts are yea big? Get her a dress with this size of a bust.” Jasmine could barely contain her giddiness as she prepared for her big date with her boyfriend. Where is he taking me? She slipped a diamond tennis bracelet over her wrist. What are we going to do after dinner? Jasmine pulled out a pair of dangling amethyst earrings she rarely had the chance to wear and let them shine tonight. Will we make slow and sensual love tonight, or will he want to take me to new places? Her sheer socks protected her against the brand new shoes Monica insisted she buy, and now she knew why they were the perfect match for a dress Jasmine had yet to see.
When she turned to look at herself in the mirror, she was compelled to take out her phone and enjoy a celebratory selfie. Of course it did not turn out as good as she thought she looked… but she sent it to a few friends anyway, including Monica.
“Have fun tonight,” Monica replied, probably from the backseat of her car as she made her way up into the mountains. “Remember, I want to hear all about it from you. Ethan will leave out the best details, as all men tend to do.”
Nadia told her she looked radiant, and Selena chided her for showing off her goods, as usual. Jasmine didn’t care. She was throwing her important items into a white handbag and perusing the closet for a perfect coat to wear that night. She ended up going with black. Stylish and functional.
The sun was almost fully set by the time she stepped outside again. The building attendant gestured to Jasmine’s car already parked by the curb, the driver waving to Jasmine and showing off what she hoped to be the last of the cards. She snatched it from his hand as he opened the door for her. She had already read it by the time he was in the driver’s seat and pulling out again.
This is it.
The time has come.
Cinderella in her chariot on the way to the ball.
Wearing her beautiful gown and looking more beautiful for it.
My only hope is that I will be a fitting Prince Charming for my perfect princess.
“You all right, Ms. Jasmine?” the driver asked, glancing in the rearview mirror.
She put the card in with the others, tucked delicately into the corner of her purse. “Yes. I’m fine. How long until we get there? I’m dying.”
“Depending on traffic, it should be about fifteen minutes. Mr. Cole asked me to be there by seven. He gave us plenty of time.”
“Where are we going?”
“That’s a surprise, Miss.”
“Of course it is.”
Jasmine had a newfound love for the lights twinkling outside the car windows. She watched them go by like fireflies blinking in the twilight. I played with some fireflies a long time ago. Once, when her parents took her down to Alabama one summer to visit some friends. Every night for the whole week Jasmine was there, fireflies came out at dusk, illuminating the mystical hour while ten-year-old Jasmine twirled in their midst. She felt like that again. A twenty-six-year-old reliving the fantasies of childhood. Of girlhood.
Deep inside, she knew what was about to happen. Yet a part of her was still so jaded, so cynical that she refused to believe it. Those sorts of dreams didn’t come true. Jasmine might call a billionaire like Ethan Cole her boyfriend, but she knew it would never be more than her living with him while he paraded her around at functions and then went home for a drink and a roll in bed. Fairy tales didn’t come true. Not to that extent. There was no cake to have and eat as well. Jasmine might be
a princess in the world’s eyes now, but she would never be a queen.
Nevertheless, she thought of those dreams she had as a child. Of the fairy tales her mother used to read to her. Of the beautiful world that existed outside of herself, outside of Ethan, and outside of the life they slowly built together.
She still didn’t believe it when the driver pulled up to a place on the outskirts of town. A planetarium? That’s what it was in actuality, but it was also a place people rented for parties and other shindigs. Jasmine didn’t see a notice on the front board, but she did see the smartly dressed man waiting for the driver by the front entrance.
“Good evening, Miss Bliss,” the elderly gentleman said. He extended his hand the moment the driver opened Jasmine’s door. “Mr. Cole has asked me to meet you here. He’s inside, waiting for you.”
“Oh, thank you.” Jasmine took his hand, eyes never leaving the large dome looming above them. “Call me Jasmine, please.”
“Very well, Jasmine. That’s a lovely name, by the way. We have jasmines currently growing in our planetarium.”
“Flowers in a planetarium?”
“At this time of year we have a garden in the dome. Please, follow me.”
Jasmine trailed slightly behind as she was led through the main entrance. A woman greeted her and offered to take her coat and purse. “You won’t be needing it,” she insisted. “We’ll have it waiting for you at your final destination. Mr. Cole has asked that you have no burdens on your journey through the garden.”
“Is that so?” Jasmine had no idea what she was talking about. It sounded fun, though.
“Right this way.”
She was led past the museum, the gift shop, and deep into the depths of the planetarium. Signs pointed the way to the dome, boasting a seasonal flower exhibit with flowers imported all the way from Europe and Southeast Asia.
