Chapter 62
Her mom tried to feign surprise, but she’d never been a particularly talented actress.
The most genuine reaction to the news of her pregnancy was her dad’s. A large grin spread across his face, and he couldn’t help but bounce a bit in excitement.
“I can’t believe I get to be a grandfather.”
Jasmine didn’t have the heart to tell him that her due date was several months past his estimated prognosis.
“I wished you’d waited until after marriage to get pregnant, but nothing can be done about that now,” her mother huffed around the room. “We can still make arrangements and spin this in our favor.”
Jasmine was about to retort when her father beat her to the punch. “Susan, we’ve talked about this.” The glare he gave his wife reminded her of the man he used to be, a hint of his old power returned. “Or would you like her to run away again with our first grandkid?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re so dramatic. I’m just protecting our image. I’m not trying to keep her hostage.”
“She seems to be handling her image just fine. Now, I’d like to have a conversation with our daughter. Privately.”
Her mother crossed her arms, and with another sarcastic, dramatic look, said, “Fine. I’ll be back with dinner.”
Andrea and her mom left. As soon as the door closed, she turned to her father and said, “Since when does Mom pretend to cook?”
Her dad snorted in laughter. “Since she did a tour of the kitchen for Good Housekeeping. Mostly she bosses the cook around and asks if she added enough salt.”
“That sounds more like her.”
Her dad patted the bed next to him. “Come, sit down. I want to hear all about your time in New York. And the father of my grandbaby.”
She laid down next to him. “I don’t know that I really want to talk about him right now. Things are…complicated right now. But I’ll tell you about New York.”
She regaled him with her stories of undergrad, meeting Morgan and Natalie, pushing her way through to her MBA program. It was a longer story than she’d imagined, as it felt like not so long ago, she’d found her first dingy apartment with three roommates to afford rent and tuition at the same time.
Jasmine briefly went over her relationship with Aaron. At the mention of his name, his brows furrowed, as if he was trying to remember something.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, pausing her story.
“I don’t know, but I swear I’ve heard your mother mention that name before.”
“I mean, she did have Andrea create a very detailed timeline. I’m sure she found out about Aaron then.”
He sat with his thoughts a moment longer. “That’s probably it. Anyway, please continue.”
She talked about her job at Whitlock Inc, the struggle she had with Astrid at the beginning, and her time at Cannes.
“You were so beautiful. Your sister showed me some of the photos. You looked so happy.” The side of his mouth twitched up. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that.”
She squeezed his hand. “Well, you’ve got another shot at it, assuming Mom doesn’t ruin this whole trip.”
“Give her a little leeway. She’s dealing with a major upheaval, dealing with my illness.”
“What, paying a nurse to take care of you is that hard on her?”
He sighed. “It’s not that. I took a major step back from the company, and it’s suffered in the last several months. Share prices are falling, and she’s scared of losing everything.”
“Well that explains the insistency I come back,” she mumbled under her breath. “Why not just sell the company? Get rid of the damn thing. I know Andrea doesn’t want to take the reins, and I certainly don’t.”
He scoffed. “They’d spend the fortune from the sale within a couple years. Your Mom has no sense of financial responsibility. She asked for things, and I figured out how to make it work.”
Jasmine’s body was tense, waited for the other shoe to drop, waited for his manipulations to start.
“I don’t mean to guilt you into taking the company if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m just tired of all the conversation around it. I don’t care about anything else but making my peace before I go.” He let go of her hand. “I need to get some rest. Tomorrow, I’d like to hear more about this Mr. Whitlock.”
She nodded. “I appreciate you not begging me to stay. It makes being here easier. Good night.” She paused, then quickly pecked his cheek, and left for her room. It was the only sign of affection she could muster.
She took her dinner to the bedroom without a word to her mother, content to eat alone on her first night.
After she’d gotten ready for bed and collapsed underneath the freshly cleaned sheets, she pulled out her phone and reread Nick’s message over and over again.
She typed out a response.
I miss you.
She risked being more personal, more vulnerable now. If he wanted her back in New York, she hoped he missed her too.
The message showed as delivered, then quickly as read, but no response was sent back.
It was getting late. Maybe he just didn’t know how to respond.
She placed her phone on the nightstand and willed for sleep to come before she could overthink it anymore.
The next morning Gerard awoke her with a large platter of various breakfast foods.
“Biscuits and gravy!” she said in delight. “You made them, right?”
“I wouldn’t let anyone else have that privilege,” he said with a wink.
“Thanks, Gerard.” A sense of nostalgia overtook her as she ate the homemade breakfast. She didn’t know how he did it, but the consistency of the gravy, the proportion of meat to sauce, and the fluffiness of the biscuits was perfection.
“It does come with a bit of bad news though.”
She stopped mid-chew. “What?”
“Your mother has a baby shower set up downstairs. It’s intended to be a surprise, but I feel it’s not a surprise you’d welcome.”
She finished her bite and swallowed. “Well, I guess I can suffer through it for a couple of hours and then donate everything.”
“That’s not all,” he said with much more delicacy.
“Oh no. I don’t like that look.”
He looked out the window as he tried to find the right words. “Well, your mother also invited several suitors. Including Mr. Powell.”
Reflexively, she looked towards the balcony attached to her room. She was in no condition to escape the same way she had before, but it still crossed her mind.
Jasmine wasn’t the same scared teenager though. She had the strength necessary to turn them all down in the traditional Southern Hospitality manner.
“Alright, I’ll finish my breakfast and head down. Thanks for the warning.”
He smiled. “Of course, ma’am. If you need anything else, please let me know.”
He left, and Jasmine savored every bite of her breakfast before she prepared to throw herself to the wolves.