Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Before I can get too hard on myself, my cell rings. I stand up to search for it on the bed, growling like an animal when I can’t see it, even though I can hear it. I know it has to be a call about Jasmine, and here I am, sleeping beauty, and I can’t even find my damned phone. The sensation of it peeling off the side of my ribs and thudding to the floor tells me I’ve been asleep on it.
So much for keeping an eye on my little flower.
Dammit!
I bark in answer, and my security guy Lipton fills me in, cool as a cucumber.
Jasmine’s left and is at the flower shop. Big surprise there, but I am glad she hasn’t gone anyplace else.
I let him know I’m on my way down, impressing upon him the need for him to keep eyes on her until I get there, something I already regret doing. Having someone else watch her for me, but I can’t be everywhere at once. It’s why I need her here with me all the time.
I’m almost at the door, keys in hand, when Lipton calls again.
“She’s on the move. Sold out of flowers and looks like she’s following one of ours. You want us to do anything?” he asks meaning, do I want them to intervene?
But if she’s headed where I think she is, then I’ll be there to meet her.
“Just follow her and keep me updated,” I clip. I feel the smile edging its way back onto my face as I head down to the private parking area via my personal elevator.
Lipton was signing off. The thrill in his voice is nowhere near the one I feel inside myself. He’s got a hard-on because he’s been let out of the building to play, doing what he does best for one night.
I’ve got an all-day hard-on because I know what I’m heading toward is a forever deal, not just fun and games for one night. I don’t plan on any more games. These past twenty-four hours have been a wild ride, sure, but it’s time to come clean with Jasmine. Time to lay my cards on the table and speak plainly for once.
Having had some much-needed sleep and food, I’m able to think clearer now. I’m able to see the best way forward is to be honest and tell her exactly how I feel, and hope like hell she feels the same.
Otherwise?
I shake my head at the thought.
There is no otherwise anymore. I’m going to do what any sane man would’ve done the moment he saw his perfect woman. I’m going to ask if she wants to go grab a coffee or a bite to eat. If she’s busy, I’ll give her my card.
If she doesn’t call, I know where she lives.
If she doesn’t open the door, I know there’s a fire escape I can climb up.
Common sense tells me I should have run with the simple stuff from the get-go instead of acting like a lunatic.
I know the way to the hospital well. It’s been a while since I’ve been there in person. They looked after my Aunt Rose before she passed. I make a point of reminding them with a sizeable check or three every year.
The drive-through, post-peak hour sure beats a cab ride. I think I’m done walking in the rain from now on. Caressing the leather steering wheel of my European sports car, I smile wider, knowing Jasmine’s figured out where all the flowers she’s been selling have been going.
At least, I hope she finds out. She does an amazing job, and I know those flowers and plants will brighten someone’s day.
Mine is getting brighter by the minute, and my pulse quickens when I see the hospital. It’s a thumping roar by the time I park and make my way to the entrance.
I spot Lipton before he sees me and, returning the favor of being spotted by him last night, I move wide. I take a path behind him, surprising him in a way he only tolerates because I’m paying him.
“Mr. Jones… you startled me,” he says with gritted teeth.
I’m not here to play a game of hide-n-seek. I want what’s mine, so I’m hoping Lipton can point me in the right direction. I’ve wasted enough time already. I can see that now and need to get Jasmine where she belongs today.
“She went in after the janitor…,” Lipton murmurs, updating me by reflex and keeping his eyes peeled on the entrance.
“The janitor?” I ask, paying attention as he details Jasmine’s last customer and the likelihood of her joining the dots about the flowers, which is what led her here, straight to me.
Not something I would have come up with off the bat, but like everything having to do with Jasmine and me, I know there are bigger wheels turning. Making sure we’re together. Making sure we make lots of little Jasmines and Jameses, too.