A Sin and a Shame (17 page)

T
he sand tickled her toes
.

Jasmine and Hosea sauntered, hand-in-hand, along the Fire Island coastline. She inhaled the ocean’s scent and then sighed.

“You okay, darlin’?” he asked.

“I’m better than okay.”

He smiled his approval, and they continued their stroll to the rhythm of the water’s waves.

Today had been another one of Hosea’s surprises. He’d called this morning and told her they were going to spend the day celebrating Rio’s upcoming opening.

“But it’s not all good, darlin’,” he’d said. “I just found out that I have to be in Philly Thursday and won’t be at the club with you. So, I’m doing a little making-it-up-to-you now, and I’ll have a little somethin’ for you when I get back next weekend.”

She’d been disappointed, but she couldn’t stay in the sadness for long. Not when she looked back over the past weeks and all that he did to make her feel wanted. He did everything—except satisfy her sexual needs.

Jasmine still hadn’t been able to change any part of his mind—or persuade any part of his body—to have sex with her. And she was still trying to find a way to be content with that. She told herself that she didn’t need his physical love when every day, he lived his love for her. She had him—emotionally, spiritually, mentally. All she needed to do was believe, that was enough.

“Are you ready to eat, darlin’?” he asked, nudging her from her thoughts.

She nodded, although she could have stayed at the edge of this paradise forever. On the boardwalk, they rinsed the sand from their feet, then strolled to the waterside restaurant Tête-à-Tête. They were seated at a booth that faced the ocean and where a sandy-haired, surfer-looking waiter took their orders. For the next hours, they shared their food, a calamari salad and a seafood stew. And shared conversation, their dreams and goals.

By the time Hosea escorted her into her apartment building, she was ready to beg for his hand in marriage.

She kissed his cheek. “Thank you for another beyond fantastic day.” She turned toward the elevator, but he held her hand as if he couldn’t let go.

“Jasmine,” he started and then hesitated.

“What’s wrong?” She wasn’t sure what was behind his stare, but his intense gaze made her heart thump.

He said, “I can’t end this day without letting you know how much you mean to me.”

She opened her mouth, but he placed the tips of his fingers on her lips, stopping her.

“Just saying your name makes me smile. I don’t know when it happened, but you’ve stolen my heart.” He’d turned her hand, kissed her palm, let his lips linger in the center of her hand. And then he left.

Jasmine stood in place, watching him as he sauntered away. She stayed right there until she couldn’t see him anymore.

Inside her apartment, even though the sun had set hours before, she didn’t bother to turn on any lamps. She didn’t need light as she stripped from her clothes and sank into bed. His words were still with her when she closed her eyes, and it was his words that lulled her into a heavenly sleep.

T
he club was bustling with
the sights and sounds of last-minute preparations.

The staff rushed around, security completed their walk-through, and Jasmine shouted out instructions to all. In less than an hour, Rio would be open.

She walked to the center of the space that just twelve weeks ago was nothing more than four walls of cold concrete. But now,
Premiere
magazine called the two-level club “the jewel of downtown,” and declared that tonight’s opening would be “the best celebration in lower Manhattan post 9/11.”

Jasmine had worked hard for that review. The last weeks had exhausted her. Contractors, designers, and planners had hounded and pounded her until there was little left. But what work had taken away, Hosea restored.

Days had passed since their time on Fire Island, and still, she kept the words he’d spoken in her heart, pulling them to her consciousness whenever she needed to be reminded that she shouldn’t do anything to risk winning this prize.

“I’m getting so close,” she said to herself.

“Uh, oh. I’ve been working you too hard if you’re talking to yourself.” Malik strolled toward her. “You look fantastic.”

She grinned. This was only the second time that she’d worn the dress that Hosea gave her for her birthday.

“You don’t look bad yourself.” She straightened his tie. “So, are you ready for your big night?”

“Tonight belongs to you too.” He glanced at his watch. “We don’t have much time before the doors open.” He watched as staff still hustled through the space. “Are we ready?”

“Definitely. But even if we weren’t, we still have time. Only the countriest of country folks would show up right at nine.”

“What’s up, my people?” J.T. swaggered toward them with a woman hanging from his arm that Jasmine knew was not his wife.

Jasmine glanced at her watch, then looked at Malik and smiled. “Showtime,” they said and laughed together.

The music was blaring.

Jasmine climbed to the second-level lounge. This may have been an invitation-only event, but both levels of Rio were packed as if it were New Year’s Eve. Still, the upper floor gave her a bit of a reprieve from being the welcoming hostess. Her cheeks ached from her smiles that greeted everyone and her mind was bored with the useless chatter that came from every guest.

Still, she was pleased. Three hours into the night, drinks were flowing and food was devoured as if Rio were already a first-class night spot.

She glanced over the rail and watched the couples on the lower-level dance floor, before she turned toward the bar.

“Hey, Stu, I’ll have a Coke, no ice, please.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

When he returned with her glass, a voice behind her said, “I got that.”

Her heart raced and the memory that belonged to him rushed back as if they’d been together yesterday.

When she faced him, she said, “Put your wallet away, Brian. I’m part owner, remember?”

He grinned, nodded, and then looked at her as if she were naked. Without taking his eyes from her, he said, “Nice club.”

She sipped her soda, and, wished that this time, her glass was full of ice.
“What
are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “I hadn’t been to New York in a while and when J.T. told me about the opening, I thought I’d surprise you.” He paused. “And I know you’re surprised since you forgot to send me an invitation. My feelings were hurt.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

He leaned in close and when she inhaled, the smell of him reminded her of the feel of him. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’m sure,” she paused to clear her throat, “that’s not true, either.”

“Where are you staying?”

Her hands began to shake and she rested her glass on the counter. “At my apartment,” she said with as much steadiness as she could gather.

“Where do you live?” he whispered even though the music blared loud enough to make the walls vibrate.

“I can’t—”

“I know you can’t…leave right now. But we have all night.” His lips grazed her ear.

She took a step aside, needing the space between them. “Brian, I’m involved with someone.”

He finished what was left in his glass. “So am I. By the way, Alexis sends her good wishes.”

Jasmine knew
that
wasn’t true and she wondered what was his game. Why would he mention his wife?

“Enjoy the rest of your evening, Brian.”

He chuckled. “Oh, I plan to.” He rested his hand on hers and a charge surged through her veins, igniting a fire within her.

Even in her four-inch stilettos, she dashed away, praying that distance would be her medicine. Cure her of the thoughts, the memory, the desire.

Downstairs, she mingled with the crowd, but she couldn’t hide. Brian stayed with her, in her mind. The way he talked, the words he spoke. The way her skin tingled at his touch.

Her stomach churned; her head ached.

“Jasmine, you don’t look so good,” J.T. said. “Don’t tell me you’re sick again.” He chuckled.

She stared at him and then glanced at the two women who held his arms. “I’m just tired.” She peeked at her watch. It was almost midnight. How was she going to share the same space with Brian for four more hours?

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you,” Malik yelled over the music. “This is going great.”

She nodded.

“Jasmine’s not feeling well,” J.T. told Malik.

He frowned and Jasmine knew he was remembering the last time she’d told him that.

“This time, I really don’t feel well, Malik,” Jasmine said, now feeling nauseated. “I’m going to check on everything and then get out of here.”

After a moment, his face creased with concern. “You’re shivering.”

She hadn’t noticed; she didn’t know why she was shaking. She certainly wasn’t cold. She could still feel the heat of him. “I think it’s just all catching up with me. The long hours, no sleep, the music—” Her fingertips massaged her temples.

“Well, there’s really no need for you to stay. Gabriella is working with Stacy and Tina is here too if we need any extra help. Where’re your things? In the office?”

She nodded.

Within minutes, he returned with her jacket and purse, and then walked her to the front door.

“Jasmine,” Stacy stopped them before they stepped outside. “We’ve run out of—”

Malik held up his hand. “I’ll handle it.”

“They need you in the kitchen,” Stacy said.

“Go ahead, Malik,” Jasmine said. “I’ll catch a cab.” She peeked through the glass. “They’re lined up out there.” She waved good-bye, then once outside, welcomed the fresher air. Already she felt revived. This was all she needed—to get away. Leaving now was going to keep her happily-ever-after alive.

Jasmine motioned for a cab. When the yellow car stopped, a hand came from behind her and reached for the door.

Please, God. No.

“Want some company?” the voice whispered.

She couldn’t look back. Didn’t need to. She could smell him, feel him as he pressed against her. She slipped into the car, hoping that he wouldn’t follow, then praying that he would.

Brian slid in beside her, but still, she didn’t look at him. Even after she gave the driver her address, she kept her eyes away. She didn’t want to look. Didn’t want to see the evil that had found its way to her tonight.

Lust and lunacy.

It was that bizarre blend that had her in bed with him again. And like the last time, it started from the moment they entered her building. She’d hurried past a frowning Henrikas as Brian followed. The elevator doors had barely closed, before they were in each other’s arms. His hands, his lips, every part of him made her remember what she’d tried so hard to forget.

Inside her front door, no time was lost as he ripped her dress from her body, and then stripped everything else away until she stood before him, naked. He stood, still clothed, and with a swift unzip of his pants, took her there, pressed against the front door until she screamed.

Inside her bedroom, she took control. Undressed him and then told him what to do. Made him pleasure her in the ways she’d fantasized in her dreams.

Inside her mind, sanity returned—almost two hours later. Jasmine collapsed onto the bed before the ringing phone startled her. She glanced at the clock. It was after two.

“Let it ring,” he said.

She grabbed the telephone.

“Ms. Larson, Mr. Bush is on his way up.” Henrikas’s accented words rushed through the handset. “I thought—”

She slammed the phone down and jumped from the bed. “You’ve got to go,” she screamed.

He frowned, made no moves.

“My boyfriend is downstairs.”

He sat up slowly.

She yelled, “You need to get out of here.”

“You need to calm down. I don’t want to be caught either. But how do you think I’m going to get out without him seeing me?”

She couldn’t breathe deep enough to get oxygen to her lungs.

He said, “Just close the door. I’ll wait in the bathroom. And you get rid of him.”

He was the one she wanted to get rid of, but the ringing doorbell stopped her words. Brian slid from between the sheets and when he stood, his nakedness almost made her forget her mission. He motioned for her to answer the door and then he crept into the bathroom. She grabbed her robe, closed the bedroom door, then rushed to the front. She took a breath before she greeted Hosea.

“Hey, darlin’.”

She swallowed the stone lodged in her throat. “Hi. What are you doing here?” she asked, barely opening the door wide enough for him to see her.

“I stopped by the club to surprise you. Malik told me you left sick.” He frowned. “I was worried.”

“I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.”

His frown deepened. “Yeah, but I came back tonight. Just to see you.” He paused. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s just that I’m surprised.” Her fingers combed through her tousled hair. “I was feeling a little sick, but I’m better now. Came home…and got right into—”

Before she could finish, the door across the hall opened and Mae Frances peeked out. “A lot of talking going on out here for the middle of the night.”

Jasmine cringed as Mae Frances, wrapped in a tattered robe, stepped into the hallway. With her arms crossed, she glared at Hosea. “So, you’re Jasmine’s preacher man, huh?” she sneered.

“Yes, ma’am.” Hosea smiled, and then reached his hand toward hers. When she stayed in place, he said, “I’m sorry to disturb you.” He nudged Jasmine’s door gently, forcing her to step aside, and he walked past her into the apartment. “Is that the woman you’ve—” He stopped.

Jasmine’s eyes followed his glance and she almost lost everything inside of her when he bent over and picked up her dress. Her bra and thong fell back to the floor from the tangled mess.

“Isn’t this the dress—?”

“From my birthday,” she finished. “I wore it, didn’t mean to leave it there.” She snatched the dress. “It’s just that when I got home, I got undressed…so quickly.”

He glanced at her silk underwear that still lay at his feet. “I see,” he said, picking up the items and handing them to her.

Tears burned behind her lids. She wanted to hug him, hold him, but she stayed away. Didn’t want him to smell another man’s scent on her. “I’m sorry.” Her voice quivered as she placed the clothes on the couch.

“What are you sorry for, darlin’? Sorry I found out that you’re a bit messy?”

The first tear flowed and she nodded.

“Ah, come on. It’s just that you’re not feeling well.” She held her breath as he reached for her. When he touched her, she sobbed, making him step back quickly. “What’s wrong, Jasmine?”

“Nothing. I’m just…sick…and tired.”

“Well, then, we need to get you back to bed. Do you want anything to eat?”

She shook her head. “If I eat anything, I’ll—”

He held up his hand. “I get it. What about some tea? You get in bed and I’ll bring it to you.”

“No,” she shouted her protest. Then, lowered her voice. “I just want you to go.”

He reared back at her words.

“I mean, I’m glad to see you, but I’m tired.”

He looked at her for a moment longer, then shrugged and turned toward the door. But before he stepped outside, he said, “I should just wait until you fall asleep. I’ll stay out here and—”

“No. If you’re here, I won’t sleep and—” She had no more excuses. Just prayed inside that God would pour out His mercy right about now.

“Okay, I know when somebody’s trying to get rid of me.”

“It’s not because I don’t love you,” she said before she could think. It was never in the plan for her to say that first. It was never in the plan to mean those words—so soon.