not have agreed with me a month ago.”
“And I wouldn’t blame you for your assessment.”
She snuggled closer. Her breath was warm across his skin. She was silent for so long that he began to wonder if she’d fallen asleep. Then she whispered, “So why be that way?”
It’s safe. There was no way he was offering that explanation. Not even to Jasmine. Instead, he said, “It’s what I know.”
* * *
“What do I wear to the ball? Cinderella’s eternal question shared by women everywhere.”
Jasmine glared at her little sister as she walked past, her arms overflowing with formal dresses. Ivy’s words made Jasmine even more stressed. The store owner helped Ivy arrange her potential choices on a rack before she headed down the hall to a dressing room. Jasmine’s arms were still empty.
They’d been looking at dresses for the masquerade for over half an hour already at a small local boutique where Jasmine usually bought her formal clothing. Ivy was attending the masquerade with her. She loved parties. Willow was more than happy to help pick out everyone’s attire, then stay home with Auntie and Rosie.
The three of them had done this on quite a few occasions. Many times Ivy had assisted Jasmine at her events so she had an extra pair of hands. This time, her little sister was coming because what Jasmine and Royce had put together was totally cool.
But Jasmine had never had a problem finding a dress. Today was the exception, apparently.
She knew what the problem was, but she didn’t want to acknowledge it. What difference did it make what dress she wore? After all, Royce had seen her naked on more than one occasion. But her stupid feminine psyche seemed stuck on finding the perfect dress. The dress that would wow Royce, make him proud to have her standing next to him.
At least, she assumed that’s what she would be doing...when she wasn’t conferring with caterers and waitstaff and Dominic, among others. Royce hadn’t actually spelled that part out yet.
But she wasn’t going to live with the same angst she’d had before their visit to the Jeffersons’ Sunday Salon. They’d gone out to dinner a few times since then. She’d felt safe assuming they’d present themselves as a couple, of sorts. By now she knew Royce wasn’t the type of man who needed her on his arm the entire time. But when they were together, she knew he wouldn’t ignore her.
Still, she hoped she got to have at least one dance with him...
“So, what’s the problem?” Willow asked.
“I just can’t find what I’m looking for.” Jasmine glanced once more across the rows and rows of silky fabrics and sequins.
“What are you looking for?” Willow asked, the confusion in her voice echoing Jasmine’s own conflicted emotions.
“I haven’t figured that out, either.”
Luckily, Willow didn’t lose patience quickly. “At least we know where the problem is.”
Jasmine tried to explain. “I don’t want it to be too sexy, because I’m also there in a professional capacity. But I also don’t want it to be too businesslike, because...”
“Royce won’t find that sexy?”
It took her a minute to admit it. “Well, yes.”
“Where are these nerves still coming from? Y’all are great together.”
And Jasmine knew that was true. In every single way except one: Rosie. After seeing Royce with his father, she knew better than anyone why he limited his time around children. A conviction that deep wasn’t going to disappear overnight. She felt like she had to protect at least part of her heart, when what she really wanted was to jump in with both feet and leave her worries in the dust.
“I really enjoy being with Royce,” she began.
Ivy stuck her head out of her dressing room. “Of course you do.”
“But I just don’t know that it can ever be something permanent.”
Willow seemed to get this, although Ivy rolled her eyes. “Don’t you trust Royce?” Ivy asked.
“In just about every way.”
Willow peeked at her solemnly over the stack of dresses she’d started loading into her arms. “Then what is it that’s holding you back?”
“Rosie.”
“Why?” Ivy asked again.
“Babies are a big responsibility.”
Ivy shrugged. “He seems to do fine whenever he’s with her.”
“But the occasional cuddle here and there isn’t the same as living with a child. Royce has...issues.”
“This is true,” Willow confirmed.
Ivy, however, wasn’t convinced. “What kind of issues?”
Jasmine forced herself back to her task, listlessly sifting through the racks. She wasn’t sharing Royce’s secrets. They were his to share, not hers. Willow reached over her to pick up dresses she’d overlooked.
After an uninspired search, they wandered toward the dressing rooms with just a few items. “Did the Jeffersons give you flack because you’re dating your client?” Willow asked.
“Nope. Which surprised me a little. I wasn’t sure how they’d feel.” Jasmine glanced over at Willow and lowered her voice a little, even though they were the only ones there at the moment. “Turns out Marilyn used to be Don’s secretary.”
Willow’s green eyes went wide. “Wow. Never would have guessed that one. Every time I’ve met them, she just seems to...fit.”
“I know. From admin assistant to billionaire wife. She has always seemed the perfect person to be at Don’s side.”
Ivy called from her dressing room. “Ooh, maybe I should join the trend...”
Jasmine was standing in the hallway not far from Ivy’s curtained alcove. “It isn’t as easy as you think.”
“Why not?”
Jasmine couldn’t tell if Ivy was being serious or just giving her older sister a hard time, which she liked to do on occasion.
“What if it ends?” Jasmine finally asked. “You’re in the position of needing a new job then. If just one of you decides it isn’t working, it can get messy. How do you act in front of people?” Jasmine was up close and personal with that particular situation, which was made even trickier because her business was dependent on appearances. “How much do you tell? How much do you keep to yourself? It’s just very complicated.”
“True. Still...”
Willow leaned closer but didn’t bother to lower her voice. “Have you seen Ivy’s boss? He’s dreamy. He might actually be worth the risk.”
