The lights dimmed for a moment, then the orchestra struck up a lively tune. But Jasmine and Royce remained frozen in their silent battle. Without permission, Royce reached up to touch the mask she’d had made to match her dress. His other hand found the ties at the back of her head.
He was so close, his touch so intimate, that she was transported back to the night before, when he’d shown her in no uncertain terms just how much he enjoyed her. Only now, their encounter felt dirty, tainted by motives she could only guess at.
It wasn’t until the strings came loose and Royce pulled the mask away that Jasmine felt the tears spill onto her cheeks. Royce’s eyes widened and what looked like panic washed over his expression. But all Jasmine could feel was the humiliation of knowing she was crying over a man who would walk away from her whenever business demanded.
So she walked away first and didn’t look back.
* * *
Royce looked down at the paper Matthew had handed him and cursed. Jasmine’s final invoice.
She hadn’t wasted any time. It had only been three days since the masquerade. Three days in which she wouldn’t return his phone calls or text messages. He’d even gone by the house once. Auntie had answered the door, holding Rosie, only to tell him that Jasmine wasn’t home. From her worried expression, he assumed she was telling him the truth.
But she’d also refused to tell him anything else.
He’d learned nothing about what had upset Jasmine that night, though he suspected it had something to do with his father’s visit. As far as he could tell, they hadn’t spoken to each other alone. She could have overheard something, but what?
Royce was an astute businessman, but when it came to women, especially upset women, he was more than a little lost. He’d have given anything to have his mother there so he could ask her advice. Did he confront Jasmine? Leave her to stew for a while? What?
“I just don’t understand, Matthew,” he said, more as a way to express his frustration than anything.
“I know. She was perfect for you.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Matthew must have realized what he’d said, because his assistant’s eyes went wide and worried.
“You’re right. She is.”
Matthew started to shake his head and back away. He was probably wondering where the heck his real boss had gone.
Royce was beyond caring about keeping things professional. He ran a rough hand through his hair, no longer worried what it would look like afterward—or who might see it messed up. He was no longer the consummate professional. Jasmine had stripped the superficial facade away. “But I can’t fix what’s wrong until I know what it is.”
Matthew studied him for a moment, then cautiously offered, “Obviously you aren’t trying hard enough.”
“What? I’ve texted, called, gone by the house.”
“Come on,” Matthew admonished, the tension in his body easing up some. “Where’s the guy who beat out every shipping company in Savannah to get Jefferson’s contract? I’m pretty sure you stepped out of your comfort zone to accomplish that.”
Boy, had he. “But this is a woman.”
“No different...except you might need a little more finesse. Use some of those personal negotiating techniques Jasmine taught you.”
“A little more finesse, huh?”
Royce thought about that the rest of the day. Jasmine’s techniques had really just been about seeing people for who they were, treating them with respect as human beings. She’d drilled that into him, but he still needed a little more work in that area.
Starting now.
Even though it was about an hour before he normally left the office, Royce headed for the door. “Take the rest of the day off, Matthew.”
He had to smile at his assistant’s gasp. Those words hadn’t been uttered in Royce Brazier’s office, well, ever.
So why was Royce grinning as he got into his car?
Today was a Thursday. Jasmine always volunteered at the mission on Thursday evenings. She had for the entire two months he’d known her. Why not use that knowledge to his advantage?
As he drove toward the mission, he experienced an unfamiliar sensation of freedom. So this was what playing hooky felt like.
Of course, it didn’t hurt that he had some business to discuss with Francis Staten. Royce hadn’t changed his stripes entirely.
He walked into the mission’s large dining area just as the line was forming for dinner service. Sure enough, Jasmine stood behind the steam tables. Their eyes met across the room. He could read the jolt in her body, even from this distance.
The pull to go to her was strong. He wanted to be near her, beside her. But he had to make things right first.
So he crossed the room to find Francis, instead. The director stood with several visitors, chatting before the meal. He greeted Royce with a smile and a warm handshake. “So good to see you here.”
“Thank you,” Royce replied. “I wonder if you would spare me a few moments of your time.”
“Absolutely.” Francis said his goodbyes to the others, then gestured for Royce to follow him out of the room. “I hope this isn’t bad news.”
Royce was quick to reassure him. “Definitely not.” But he waited until they reached Francis’s office before filling him in.
“Everything has been tallied and totaled, and we had some very generous donors at the masquerade,” Royce said.
“That’s good,” Francis said with a smile. “And I can’t remember ever enjoying an evening so much. What you and Jasmine put together was pure magic.”
“Yes, it was, wasn’t it?” He and Jasmine were magic together, too, if only he could get her to see that.
“Now, why do the two of you both turn so solemn when I say that?” Francis’s gaze was a little too astute.
And here Royce had thought he was going to be able to stick to business, at least for this part of the evening. “Just a little misunderstanding that I’m hoping to clear up.”
“I hope so, too. Jasmine deserves to be happy. And so do you, young man.”
“Happiness never factored into the equation for me before,” Royce said with a sigh. The happiness he’d found with Jasmine would leave a hole in his life if they weren’t together. Please let me be able to fix this.
“What about now?”
Now, Royce was determined to make Jasmine the happiest woman on earth. If he had to give up every dime to do it.
But instead of saying that, Royce simply smiled and returned to the original subject. “The truth is, we made far more than our goal at the masquerade.”
“Oh?”
“It
