But this twist also worked. She’d learn the depths of his pockets and how deep he was willing to go for her.
He said, “How about next Wednesday?”
Jasmine frowned. Hosea was moving as if this plan was his. Her timetable was sooner, like tomorrow. But he was talking ten days away.
He explained, “I’ve got a busy couple of weeks. I’m going out of town with my pops to one of his friend’s church’s anniversary and then when I get back, I’ll be swamped with meetings. You know the drill—producers, sponsors. The whole TV thing.”
“That TV thing has got to be so exciting.” She tried not to gush, but it was difficult. It wouldn’t be long before Hosea was known throughout the country and she was going to be part of all of that.
“At first, it was pretty cool,” he said. “But over the past weeks, it’s clear that there’s more work than glamour in this. Anyway, let’s save this talk for dinner.” By the time he told her that he’d call next week to finalize plans, he’d made her laugh again and again.
She hung up with a grin and then pulled back her cheer. This was still a mission. She couldn’t lose control. Had to keep her eyes, and every other part of herself, on the prize.
Chapter 13
Hosea had said, “Just wear jeans,” when he’d called last night to confirm. “Be ready for a night of surprises.”
She wanted to be annoyed that he hadn’t called her in the week that passed. But when he mentioned “surprises,” that had made her beam. Although she didn’t know what to make of his pronouncement to “just wear jeans.” After the big deal he’d made about not having dinner in her apartment, she’d expected to stroll into one of New York’s premiere restaurants—certainly not wearing jeans.
Maybe it’s because he’s been in Chicago, Jasmine thought. Maybe casual clothes were okay there, but this was New York. She’d have to school him. Actually, that was just one of the lessons she was prepared to teach.
Even though her days had been filled with long hours working with the designers for Rio, at night she’d allowed herself the luxury of dreaming. Her plan had now moved to her wedding: the gown, the reception, the gifts. All of the images made her dizzy with excitement. The son, with his potential, far surpassed the father. From what she’d discovered on Google, NBC had big plans for Hosea Bush. And so did she.
But before they got there, much had to be done. Her number-one charge was to get him into bed, love him until he begged for more. Then, she would go about changing him, creating the man she knew he could be. The extra pounds would have to go. A visit to the dentist would fix those bottom teeth that were just a tad crooked. By the time she finished, he would be a fine specimen. And it would begin tonight.
Jasmine took a final look in the mirror. She had followed Hosea’s directions and put on a pair of jeans—designer ones. But it was the silk tunic and her mink that would get them into the restaurant if anyone denied them access. And if she had to, she’d throw out Malik’s name.
Jasmine was drunk with anticipation as she flagged a cab. Years from now, she and Hosea would talk about this, their first night together. She had no doubt, the next hours were going to be spectacular.
Spectacular was not the word.
“You sure you’re all right with this?” Hosea asked.
Jasmine nodded, because she wouldn’t be convincing if she spoke that lie aloud. She kept her lips pressed together. Here she was, in the dead of winter, in the middle of Manhattan, standing on the corner of Fifty-ninth and Columbus Circle. The last rush-hour pedestrians dashed by, covered in weighty overcoats, heads bowed, on their missions to get anywhere quickly.
But as others scuttled past, Jasmine and Hosea stood in front of a corner stand, complete with the yellow awning, the smell of freshly baked pretzels and chestnuts filling the air.
“Thanks,” Hosea said to the man as he grabbed the cardboard tray filled with three hot dogs.
She could not believe this. Her first hours with the man she’d chosen as her husband were going to be spent eating hot dogs on a New York City street.
“Let’s sit over there.” Hosea motioned with his chin toward a park bench.
The heels of her Manolo boots clicked against the concrete as she hobbled toward the bench. She paused before she sat, eyeing the wood for stains or stray dirt that would mess up her mink.
“Wait a sec.” Hosea handed the tray to Jasmine, dumped the backpack he’d carried onto the bench, and pulled out two stadium cushions. He adjusted them in place, and motioned for her to sit down.
She sat, looked around, and wondered what she was doing here.
He sat, grinned, and handed her one of the wax-paper-wrapped hot dogs. “Are you sure you’re all right with this?”
She nodded, but this time, she didn’t even bother to look at him. She was beyond annoyed, and in her mind she told him so. But her wits kept her silent. A lesser woman would have huffed away, telling Hosea to lose her number. But she was Jasmine Larson. She never forgot the ultimate objective.
“This is my favorite part of the city,” he said before he took a bite that consumed almost half of his hot dog. “I love these things,” he said, holding up the half that was left as if it were an offering to God. “And I love this place,” he added. His eyes scanned the park behind them. “I thought this would be fun since it’s been warm.”
“You call this warm?” Jasmine pulled her coat tighter.
“You don’t see any snow on the ground, do you?” He chuckled and placed his hot dog on the carton. This time when he reached into his bag, he grabbed a blanket. He whipped it in the air like a bed sheet, then rested it on Jasmine’s lap. “I didn’t think you’d need this until later, but maybe this will help.” He paused. “Better?”
She hated the cold. Hated sitting on the park bench. Hated eating hot dogs and calling it dinner. But the way he looked at her, his face filled with concern and hope—this part she loved.
“Yeah. Thanks.” But her smile turned upside down as he stuffed the other half of the oversized frankfurter into his mouth. Then he unwrapped the second one as if it were a Christmas gift.
“You don’t like yours?” he asked when he noticed her staring.
“It’s okay.” She took a small bite.
After a moment, he said, “Okay, let me explain. I spent hours trying to think of something for us to do…”
You actually thought this through.
He said, “I was thinking no one else had ever taken you out like this before.”
She couldn’t help it; she laughed. “You got that right.”
“So, see, at least part of my plan worked.”
She stopped her chuckles. Plan?
He said, “At least I’m making an impression. I want you to always remember this first time.”
She thought about how similar his words were to her thoughts.
He asked, “So, are you from New York?”
“No,” she said, then paused. She wasn’t ready to give him much more. First, she wanted to know the details of his life. Then, she’d arrange her life’s résumé to be his perfect wife. But she continued, “I’m from Los Angeles, although I made a short two-year stop in Florida. I’ve only been here about a month.”
“So, I guess you haven’t seen much of the city.”
She shook her head. “Work has taken up most of my time. Not that I would know where to go, because I know about two people here.”
“Well, now you know me. I’ll show you the city and everything that makes New Yorkers sing right along with Frank Sinatra. That’ll be our second date.”
Her eyebrows raised high. “Confident, aren’t you?”
He leaned in closer. “I knew you’d go out with me all along. Even if you did try to mess with destiny and give me that bogus number.”
She laughed, even as he shoved the last of his second hot dog into his mouth. He asked, “Do you want another one?”
She shook her head, and glanced around again. They hadn’t been sitting lon
g, but the crowd had thinned as the hour approached seven. As the nighttime wind stirred around Fifty-ninth Street, Hosea packed the cushions and blankets, took her hand, and led her to the corner where the aroma of chestnuts roasting on the open fire filled her.
As they waited at the curb, she asked, “Where are we going now?”
He shook his head. “I told you this would be an evening of surprises. Can’t tell you a thing.”
The words had barely left his lips before a horse-driven carriage stopped in front of them. The man, covered in a black overcoat and wearing a top hat, nodded.
“Right on time,” Hosea said.
Jasmine glanced at Hosea before he helped her climb the high steps. For the weeks she’d been in New York, she’d watched men and women snuggle close as wagons dragged by horses carted them around the city. It was a tourist activity that she couldn’t wait to do—but not now. Not in February when the barely-thirty-degrees day had quickly turned into frigid winter night.
Hosea sat next to her and this time, when he reached into his bag, he withdrew two blankets, resting one on her lap and the other he sprawled across her shoulders. “Okay, Franklin,” he said once they were settled.
The carriage lurched forward, then steadied as the horse trotted. “Are you warm enough?” he asked.
Surprisingly, she was. “Yeah.”
He laid his arms across the top edge of the seat. She waited for his embrace, but when he didn’t move, she leaned back, resting on his chest, snuggling close.
For long minutes, they stayed quiet, absorbing the flavor of the city.
“It’s so good to be home,” Hosea said.
“How long have you been away?”
“About ten years. Right after I graduated from NYU.” His sigh was full of memories. “But I’m back and ready to begin this phase of my life. And I want to do it in the only place I’ve ever really called home.”
Silently, she calculated. Ten years after college, that would make Hosea thirty-two, thirty-three. He was a bit younger than she expected, but she could be whatever age she needed to be.
She said, “You sound like you’re really excited about being back.”
“I am. This city means a lot to me. It’s where I learned about love—from my parents, from God. It’s where I learned about family.”
“It’s where your new show is going to be.”
“Yeah, but that’s work.” His tone dismissed her words. “All that’s really important is family, friends, and living and loving every day. I want to create the kind of life my mom and dad had.”
When his father was the object of her affection, Jasmine never wondered about his wife. But now, she wanted to know about Hosea’s mother.
“Tell me about your mom.”
He stiffened. Waited, then said, “What does every man think about the woman who gave him life? I don’t even have the words to describe her, except to say that she was wonderful and I loved her so much. I was devastated when she passed away.”
“Had she been sick?”
He shook his head. “No, died suddenly my last year in college. From a blood clot.” He paused as if he needed a moment to continue. “It took a while for me to recover. I was pissed at my pops.”
Hmmm. She filed that information away.
“That’s why I went to Chicago. Wanted to put as many miles between me and my pops as my bank account allowed.” He chuckled. “Only got me to the Windy City.”
“You’ve been there ever since?”
“Yup, thought I could hide from Pops and God.” He chuckled again. “I didn’t see Pops often, but God,” he shook his head, “He never went away. Before I knew it, I was working with one of my pops’ seminary buddies in Crystal Lake. Became a minister and then ended up hosting that TV show.”
“Christian Times,” Jasmine said, glad that she’d Googled him.
“Yeah.” She heard his smile. “So you know a little something about me?”
“A little something-something,” she kidded. “Would you have come back to New York if you didn’t have the TV show?”
“Definitely. I was on my way back. God just opened this door with NBC.” He paused as the carriage rounded the corner. “I need New York. I need to be closer to my pops and strangely enough, this is where I feel closest to my mom. When I’m here, I feel like I saw her yesterday.”
“I just lost my dad.” Those words were out before she could stop them.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded. “Coming to New York was good for me. Gives me a chance to start over.”
“I want to start over here too.” He paused, and added, “Just like you.”
When she rested her head on his shoulder, it wasn’t part of her plan. She’d expected him to put his arms around her this time, but still he didn’t. Not that it mattered—with the plans she had for him, he’d be holding her soon enough.
For long minutes, the urban hum entertained them: cars honking, pedestrians chatting, engines revving, music blasting—the melody of New York.
She asked where he lived. He told her that he was staying in one of the houses that his father owned on Long Island. “Haven’t had time to look for a place,” he said. “Need some time to think about where I want to be in the city. But the most important question,” he said, “is where do you live?”
She smiled, knowing what those words meant.
At the entrance to her building, Hosea jumped from the carriage, then lifted Jasmine down. She took her time getting her balance, wanting to keep his arms around her.
He followed her into the lobby, but when she looked behind her, the carriage was still at the curb.
“It’s too cold for your friend to wait out there.”
“He’s fine. He knows I won’t be long.”
She chuckled inside. She didn’t know what he expected, but her plan called for Hosea not to leave her until the dawn’s early light.
At the elevator, she said, “I had a great time,” really meaning her words.
“I’m glad.”
It was supposed to be his cue, but when he didn’t kiss her she wasn’t surprised. He’d already shown that he preferred to display his affection in private.
She stepped inside the elevator; he didn’t follow and her expression questioned him.
“I’m going to say good night.” He looked around the lobby. “I think you’re safe.”
Her forehead creased with confusion. “You’re not coming up with me?”
“No, definitely not. I only planned to drop you off, make sure you got to your door safely.”
“That’s it?” she asked, then lowered her voice as Henrikas turned toward them. She stepped from the elevator and pulled him to the side. “Did I do something wrong?”
He shook his head. “Why would you ask me that?”
“I thought we were enjoying each other and—” She stopped and both of their minds finished her sentence. Took them to the same place.
“Oh, no,” he said so strongly, she stepped back a bit. “That’s not how I roll.”
This had to be a joke. But as seconds passed and he stood stoic, her eyes narrowed. She held up her hands as if she were surrendering. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Hosea.” She stomped into the elevator. Didn’t turn back. Just pressed the Close button until the doors obeyed.
Turned out that the son wasn’t that different from the father.
“Maybe,” she talked to herself, “this is a sign to leave these Bush men alone.”
Still, her mind replayed the evening. Remembered the times they’d talked and the even better moments when they didn’t.
When she reached her apartment, an emptiness that she hadn’t experienced with the senior Bush blanketed her. But before an hour had passed, Jasmine traded the sadness for determination. Accepting defeat was not part of her DNA. “I just need another plan,” she said. She would come up with something because she would never give up. She lived to play—and win—this game.
Chapter 14
The moment she stepped out of the meeting, Tina said, “Jasmine, you have a million messages.”
“Oh, no,” she moaned. “Who’s calling now?” A mental checklist of the calls she was supposed to return was already lodged in her mind. This morning, her desk had been piled with urgent messages from construction workers, suppliers, and designers. And she even had a few from people already requesting invitations for the opening.
“It’s not business,” Tina whispered as she scurried behind Jasmine. “You’ve gotten a million calls from Hosea Bush!” She spoke his name as if he were a star.
With her eyebrows raised, Jasmine turned to Tina.
“He’s called every ten minutes or so, even though I told him I would give you the message as soon as you were free.”
“Did he say what he wanted?” Jasmine asked casually, although she felt her heart beat speed up. She had tossed all night, wondering why their evening had gone astray. Wondered if the senior Bush had said something to thwart her plan.
“All he said was that he wanted to talk to you. So,” Tina said, and then sank into one of the chairs, “you know Hosea Bush.”
“Yeah,” Jasmine said.
“I love him,” Tina gushed. “I watched him on cable and I can’t wait for his new show. He’s so funny, which is one of the reasons why I think he’s so sexy. And he’s so compassionate. And he so loves God,” she panted. “And another thing,” she lowered her voice, “he’s not that hard to look at.”
“I’ll call him.” Jasmine sighed as if that was the last thing she wanted to do. When Tina stayed in place, Jasmine added, “Would you mind closing the door on your way out?”
Tina stood. “I hope he comes to our opening. I’d love to meet him. He’s single, isn’t he?”
He’s mine, Jasmine wanted to scream.
Once alone, Jasmine leaned back in her chair. She was relieved that he’d called. And so soon. And not once, not twice. She counted the sheets. Eight times.
She couldn’t help her smile. He regretted missing out on the promise their night had held. He’d probably dreamed about what could have been.
A Sin and a Shame Page 10
