Chapter 66
Jasmine burst into Andrea’s room. “Get your stuff packed, we’re leaving right now.”
Andrea looked up with huge eyes. “What happened?”
“Mom happened. Come on.”
She didn’t need any more explanation. Her sister started throwing items in her suitcase as Jasmine went back to her room to do the same.
Fortunately, she hadn’t packed much, so she made quick work of it. Next was to adjust the tickets. She had more than enough in her funds for the last-minute change. She corrected Andrea’s, then went to do hers when a notification popped up on her phone.
It was one of those articles that Google thought she might be interested in. Normally she’d swipe it off screen, but the word “Whitlock” caught her attention.
She clicked it and couldn’t breathe as she read the headline.
The sense of dread had only grown the past day. Nick couldn’t shake it. He paced his penthouse, tried to do anything but worry.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone began to ring. It wasn’t Jasmine much to his disappointment.
“This better be important,” he answered.
“Mr. Whitlock! I’m so sorry. I have no idea what happened, but a story about you and the Thornton girl went up on a ton of sites.”
He clutched the phone tighter. “What story?”
As he asked, his phone began to blow up with notifications. Other informants calling him, texting him, all of them tried to get a hold of him.
One of them sent a link. He clicked it.
Whitlock’s Cannes Love Pregnant! New Heir to the Whitlock Fortune or Betrayal?
Below the headline was a picture of Jasmine with her friends in front of a vehicle packed with baby items. The mother of his child stared directly at the camera, a mixture of shock and indignation on her face. Her bump was on full display in a white t-shirt.
“Who the hell ran this without consulting me?” The phone creaked from the pressure of his hand.
“We don’t know, we’re trying to pinpoint the exact point of contact.”
“Well get it pulled, now!” he yelled.
“Y-yes, Mr. Whitlock.”
His phone continued to blow up with calls and texts. He muted it; the one informant would loop in everyone else.
Nick watched the screen in horror; as fast as the posts were deleted, smaller sites and news networks would repost them. Once the initial shock wore off, he called Carl and his pilot. He needed to get to Jasmine, now.
He demanded Carl to drive as fast as possible. During the drive, he tried to call Jasmine but kept getting sent straight to voicemail. That was when he could make any calls at all between the multitude of other people trying to get in contact with him.
By the time Nick made it to the airport, it had turned into a media firestorm his tenure as CEO had never seen.
Astrid’s name managed to pop up on his phone instead of another informant, and he answered it as he boarded the plane.
“How the hell?”
“I don’t know. My team can’t get a handle on it. I’m heading to Georgia now.”
“Is she okay?”
“I have no idea; I can’t get a hold of her. If she’s seen the article, probably not.”
“You don’t think she leaked it?”
“No,” he said with confidence.
“Then you worry about her. I’ll take care of this. Get Thornton home safely.”
“That’s the goal.”
As soon as he was off the phone with Astrid, he tried to call Jasmine again and was once again met with her voicemail.
“I’m coming,” he whispered to himself as he boarded the plane.
“Answer, come on!” she screamed into the phone. Every time she tried to call Nick she was met with the busy signal. Of course he’d be overwhelmed right now, but she needed to explain it wasn’t her, that she didn’t mean to be so reckless.
As she frantically typed out a message to him, her mother strode into the room.
“Get out,” she said between gritted teeth.
“I just saw the news. I wanted to make sure you are doing okay.”
“Since when you have ever cared if I’m doing okay? You just tried to marry me off, again. Get out. Me and Andrea are leaving.”
“Well then I better go check in on your sister.”
That was easy. Too easy.
The cogs turned, but before she could fully piece it together her phone started to ring. She snatched it and saw an unknown New York number.
“Nick?” she answered, hopeful.
“No. This is his father, Charles Whitlock.”
The color drained from her face.
“If you check your bank account, you’ll find yourself ten million dollars richer.”
“I don’t want your money,” she said, her voice shaky.
“Oh I know you don’t, but you’re going to accept it and disappear from my son’s life.”
“What makes you think I’d do that?”
“Because my son is distraught right now. You have broken him all over again, and I am tired of seeing women like you hurt him.”
“I didn’t leak the news.”
“We both know that, but that doesn’t change the fact that Nicholas is currently at his mother’s grave trying to find direction in his life.”
Her knees felt weak. “You’re lying.”
“Have you been able to contact him recently?”
Silence.
“Have you been able to contact him at all in the last hour?”
Silence.
“If you truly care for my son, you will stay in Georgia. I’ll even make sure your little friends are taken care of if you stay away from the city. Miss Johnson can have her life back, and Miss Willis will live the life of her dreams.”
“How do you know— ”
“I know everything I need to know to protect Nicholas. I think you understand how generous this offer is. Besides, you told Nicholas if he didn’t want to be involved, you’d raise the child alone. I only ask that you do that in a separate state. I would also appreciate if you made an official statement that Nick is not the father of your child, but if you don’t, I will still be able to discredit the claims. My offer stands either way. Thank you for your time, Miss Thornton.”
The line clicked off.
Jasmine tried to call Nick again but still only got the busy line.
Please. Please call me. I didn’t leak it. I’m so sorry. Please just call me if you still want me in your life.
She begged for a response from her two best friends, desperate for someone, anyone to ask her to come back.
She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, waiting for messages that never came. Eventually her knees buckled, and she fell to the floor, only catching herself from pure instinct.
Her door opened, and Andrea stepped into the room, suitcase in hand.
“I’m ready to go,” she said, then registered the eerie silence of the room. She ran over and kneeled in front of Jasmine. “Hey, Jasmine, look at me. It doesn’t matter what a bunch of paparazzi say on the internet. Even if he decides to leave who cares, you can restart. You’ve done it before, and this time you’ll have me.”
Jasmine slowly nodded and stood up. “Let’s go to the airport,” she said emotionless.
She grabbed her bag and Andrea loaded them both into the car. Gerard drove them, and the ride was as silent as the grey clouds that hung overhead.
Gerard parked them at the terminal drop off. Andrea stepped out and grabbed her bag, but Jasmine made no moves to grab her own.
“Come on, we need to go. The flight’s in an hour.”
Jasmine picked up her phone and forwarded Andrea an email. “I’m staying here. I just came to say goodbye.”
Both Gerard and Andrea looked at her in astonishment. “Stop being stupid and come get your shit.”
She shook her head. “I had my time. Now you need to have yours.” She pulled Andrea into a tight hug as tears stung the back of her eyes.
“Stop talking like that and come with me.”
“I can’t.”
“Please.”
Jasmine pulled back and saw her sister crying as well. She kissed her forehead. “I sent your ticket to your email, along with the information for my apartment. Morgan will be there, but she should have no problem with it.”
Jasmine had sent a text to Morgan about the guest she’d be bringing back but had received no reply to that either. She hoped Morgan had read it.
“I’m keeping up on the rent for it, so you won’t have to worry.”
“I can’t leave you here alone.”
“You have to, and you will.” Jasmine stepped back into the car and gestured at Gerard to do the same. “I can handle them now. I promise.”
She forced a smile. “Now go. Maybe I’ll see you at your graduation ceremony soon.”
“Jasmine, wait—”
“Gerard, please,” she said, broken.
He nodded and drove the car away from her sister who still reached out for her.
“You should go too, Miss.”
Jasmine shook her head. Her friend’s faces flashed through her mind. They would be okay without her, better than okay. All she did was drag them down these last few months with her own problems. Her absence would be her last gift to them.
She pulled out her phone, opened her work email, and sent her resignation effective immediately. She opened her social media apps and discovered they were already flooded with interview requests and questions. One by one, she deleted each of her profiles.
“There’s nothing left for me in New York.”