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“See anything you want?” she asked.
“Don’t worry about me.”
She glanced back and saw her extra bodyguards hadn’t entered the café. They were hanging out on the sidewalk. “Should we get them coffee?”
“I’ll take care of them.”
She stepped up to the counter to order a maple latte and a pistachio croissant. It was an odd combination, but she had a strong craving for sweets that she needed to assuage. She realized she wasn’t alone in her quest when she saw Sarai had a plate of large, gooey cookies in front of her and a pumpkin chai latte.
“You made good time,” Sarai said, not acknowledging Johan as he passed their table to check out the back half of the room, which was divided by a massive bookshelf.
“I’ve never seen anyone navigate traffic better than they do,” she said, closing her eyes to savor her first sip of her piping-hot drink.
“That’s their expertise.”
Her eyes opened to find Sarai daintily nibbling on a gingerbread cookie. “It’s their expertise to navigate traffic?”
Sarai’s large brown eyes followed Johan as he backtracked, apparently satisfied none of the hipsters or men in suits were assassins. “They’re tactical experts, proficient behind the wheel, have medical training and led highly decorated military careers...” Sarai waved her hand. “You know, the usual.”
Jasmine set down her cup. “No, I don’t know.”
“Don’t worry about the details. That’s their job. So.” Sarai propped her chin on her hands. “Tell me what you think about Ballad of Deception.”
If the book weren’t so fresh in her mind, she wouldn’t have let Sarai get away with changing the subject. But her need to discuss the story trumped her curiosity about Mo and Johan’s qualifications. She launched into a spirited analysis of her latest obsession, which had kept her riveted for two days and left her with internal injuries.
“And now there’s a sequel!” She cringed when Sarai gave her a pointed look. “I know, I’m a hypocrite, but this isn’t about me—it’s about Johanna Ledger and her twisted mind keeping me up at night.” When Sarai continued to stare, she let out a disgusted sound and slouched in her seat with her arms crossed. “Leave me alone.”
“Speaking of, how’s your writing coming along?”
“I haven’t been writing. Just reading,” she said testily as her boot bounced.
“That’s good. Books like Ballad of Deception will inspire your own work, right?”
Jasmine took refuge in a long sip of coffee and finished off her croissant. Sarai looked especially chic today in a black sweater-vest belted at the waist, a white long-sleeve and fitted black pants that fit snugly into ankle boots.
When Sarai didn’t fill the silence and continued to stare at her, she caved. “I don’t think I can write Juliet’s book.”
Sarai’s eyes flared. “Why not?”
“This thing with me and Roth...” she began but stopped when she remembered she was talking to his employee, not her girlfriend.
“What about it? Everything seems perfect.” Sarai gestured to Jasmine’s original wedding ring on her right hand, which she had yet to take off. “He leaves the office by seven most days, and yesterday, six o’clock! No one can believe it. I assumed all was well.”
“It is.” Her cheeks felt a little hot. What the hell was she blushing like a teenager for? “We’re good.” She reconsidered and amended, “Great.”
They were acting like a real married couple with Roth leaving work at a decent hour so they could have dinner together. After, he retired to his home office while she cozied up with a book until he decided it was time to play. The past two nights, he had to be extra persuasive to convince her to put down Johanna Ledger’s book. He was miffed that she went back to reading after two orgasms, so she coaxed him to put his head on her lap and stroked his hair until he fell asleep. They’d spent more time together this week than they had in their first month of marriage. It was idyllic. She couldn’t ask for more.
“If things are great in your relationship, wouldn’t that make it easier for you to write the same for Rex and Juliet, or is that not how it works?” Sarai looked a bit distraught as she struggled to understand the mind of a writer.
Maximus’ conditioning made her hesitate. It had been drilled into her and her sisters not to confide in anyone outside of the family. Vulnerabilities could be used as weapons, so they learned to keep their own counsel… Look where that had gotten them. Ariana was an addict, Colette was a workaholic, and she lived in a dream world.
She had to remind herself that just because her family had never understood her, didn’t mean others wouldn’t. Readers from all over the globe empathized with Juliet’s plight. It was just her luck that her flesh and blood insisted on seeing her in the worst possible light. It was time she found people who accepted for who she was.
She was getting there. Not a day passed where she didn’t hear from Johnny, Penelope, Kira, and, unfortunately, Daiyu (whom she was blatantly ignoring), and she was sitting across from a woman who was dead set on her living a happily ever after. Sarai had never been put off by Jasmine’s prickly nature. She took everything in stride and was in the unique position of knowing both the professional and personal sides of Jasmine’s life. If anyone would under her dilemma, it was Roth’s personal assistant.
She snagged the last quarter of Sarai’s gingerbread cookie and cautiously lowered her guard. “This thing with Roth coming back into my life and us remarrying is so...”
“Unexpected?”
