“It is.” Elouise must’ve donated it in my honor in exchange for the last-minute tickets. “You ever been on a yacht?”
Her mouth twitches in thought, and I zero in on her heart-shaped lips, wondering what it would feel like to kiss her. “I’ve been on a cruise once. My mom loved to go on them. She and my dad used to go on them a lot, but they only took me once when they said I was old enough.” Her face falls slightly before she quickly catches herself. “Anyway… a cruise, yes, but never a yacht. My dad is more of a skiing and vacationing in the mountains kind of man.”
Interesting… She lives in one of the most poverty-stricken areas in the city, yet her parents sound like they have money. Another puzzle piece…
“I’m with your dad. It’s why I love my yacht. It’s spacious and comfortable and can house quite a few people if I want to invite anyone, but it’s usually just me and sometimes Noah. There’s nothing more enjoyable than spending a few days out in the Pacific Ocean away from everyone and everything.”
“That sounds nice,” she says, her lips quirking into a small smile. “Who’s Noah?”
“He’s my right-hand man. I own a few businesses and he helps me run them.”
“What businesses?” she asks curiously.
“A real estate development company for one. I also import heavy machinery for construction and mining companies. I own the marina over off Ocean Avenue just outside of town.”
Her eyes widen slightly in recognition. It would be hard to live in this area and not know my marina. It’s the biggest one in the state and is privately owned. Nobody within a hundred-mile radius can import or export anything without going through me.
We move down the line and I fill out a few of the auctions. When we get to the end, I see Brad talking to none other than Clint Pruitt and his asshole offspring.
“The person I need to speak to is over there,” I tell Jasmine, nodding toward the men standing in the corner, bullshitting.
Because my hand is on the small of her back, I feel her stiffen on the spot. But before I can question her and find out if one of those men are who has her scared—and if one of them is, I’ll make him regret the day he was born—she mutters, “I need to use the restroom, I’ll be back,” and scurries off, leaving me standing alone.
CHAPTER SIX
ISAAC
As Jasmine disappears through the crowd, I consider going after her, but I really need to speak with Brad, and the fact he’s standing with Clint is even more convenient.
“Gentlemen,” I announce, making my presence known. Brad flinches and Clint grumbles under his breath. James—Clint’s son—glares. “I’m glad I could catch you together. There seems to be a problem with the property over on Sycamore.” I glance from Clint over to Brad. “It seems someone called the ERM on it. Clint, here, says he has no clue. Do you know anything about that?”
Without hesitation, Brad shakes his head. “I told you we had a deal.”
“I know what you said, but the ERM being called and deeming fifteen acres as wetland tends to send mixed messages.”
“It wasn’t me,” Brad insists. “I was just telling Clint about your plans to make a community center and park…” I watch him closely as he rambles on about the agreement we came to. I’ve done enough business with him over the years to know when he’s lying, and unless he’s gotten better at it, he’s not. Which means either Clint or someone else is trying to fuck with me.
“I can ask around,” Brad offers.
“Thanks,” I tell him. “The industrial park is happening, even if I have to alter my plans slightly. But if we can’t figure this out, the first thing to go will be the community center and park.” My eyes roam over his shoulder and land on Jasmine, who’s standing by the bar, her eyes darting around nervously. I glance at Brad once more, ignoring the presence of Clint and his son. “I have someone looking for me. We’ll get together soon.”
Without giving any of them another glance, I walk past them and over to Jasmine, whose eyes meet mine. Her shoulders drop slightly and a poor excuse for a smile graces her lips, making me long for the real one she showed me earlier.
When I reach her, I cage her in against the bar, resting my hands on either side of it against the edge. “You find the bathroom okay?”
“I did. Did you find your guy?”
“Yeah. They still have the auction, but I don’t need to be here for that. I did what I came to do. You want to get out of here?” Maybe I can convince her to go somewhere with me so we can talk and get to know each other better.
She gnaws on the corner of her lip, contemplating for several long seconds. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she finally says, her lips turned down in a frown. “I just…” She releases a harsh breath. “Tonight was a mistake.”
I don’t know what she means by that, but I don’t bother asking, because I know, even after only spending a short time with her, she has no intention of telling me anything. It doesn’t matter if there’s evident chemistry between us, she’s got shit in her closet she’s not ready to let out yet. She’s going to need more time to open up to me, and that’s okay because I have all the time in the world.
“It’s okay,” I tell her, backing up and giving her her space. “Thank you for accompanying me tonight.”
Her eyes descend to the floor and she nods once. “I’m sorry…”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. You were hired to escort me tonight and you did just that.” I pinch her chin gently to raise her face so she’ll look at me again. “Let’s get you home. It’s nearly midnight. Wouldn’t want you turning into a pumpkin.” I wink playfully, and the cutest fucking giggle escapes past her lips, showing me more of the real her.
The ride to her place is filled with high tensioned silence. More than once I catch her peeking at me through her lashes, almost as if she wants to say something, but she remains quiet. When the driver pulls up, I get out first so I can help her out. And with a chaste kiss to her cheek, I thank her again for accompanying me and then wait until she’s inside her building before getting inside the car to go home.
After getting changed, I head into my study and pour myself three fingers of scotch before sitting down at my desk and waking my computer up. I’m logging in when a picture frame on the corner of my desk catches my eye. I pick it up and stare at it for several seconds, the organ in my chest clenching in pain. The picture is of my parents, taken the day of their twentieth anniversary. Dad surprised her with a vow renewal ceremony and a party afterward. It was a few months before they died, and although a lot of those months were a blur after they passed away, I can still remember that day like it was yesterday, when I asked my dad why they were getting married again.
“Because when you love someone the way I love your mom, you want to show them.”
“But you did show her by marrying her the first time.”
“And today, I’m going to show her all over again.” He waggles his brows, and I fake gag at the thought of my dad showing my mom how much he loves her. My parents have always been affectionate with each other for as long as I can remember.