with him immediately upon arriving in the city, and he’d just finished his examination of her.
His hand trembled as he closed the folder. Seeing Mrs. Wynn had shaken him up badly. Something about the woman—her hair, the lilt in her voice when she greeted him, something—had made him feel like he’d seen a ghost. An old wound had been re-opened, causing almost-forgotten pain to return with a vengeance. All because she reminded him of another woman, one whom he had loved deeply. One who had chosen someone else over him.
He thought he had dispelled the aching memory of Lilli long ago, but as the past came rushing back at him like a train wreck, he realized some feelings could never be erased, only buried. He remembered the sad look on her beautiful face the day she told him she was in love with someone else…
“I’m so sorry, Tom. I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t mean for this to happen, but it has. I love Charlie. He’s asked me to marry him…and I’ve said yes.”
He wants to tell her that this man who had taken her from him will never love her as much he does. He wants to yell, or punch a hole through the wall to dispel some of the anger that has sprung up in him. In the end, he does neither. Because he loves her. He knows he loves her because he wants only for her to be happy.
“If this is what you want, if you’re sure he makes you happy, marry him.”
After she leaves, he takes the engagement ring he had planned to give her from his bedroom dresser and looks at it long and hard before putting it away, knowing exactly what he has lost.
Having lost her to another man had been bad enough. But in a cruel twist of fate, three years later, she had returned to him, seeking his help. For all his trying, he’d not been able to stop what had happened to her. She died. And a part of him had died with her.
He sat with his elbows propped on the desk in front of him, his head resting in his hands, remembering how tormented Lilli had been the last time he’d seen her, the morning she’d arrived on his doorstep seeking help...
One look at her wraith-like figure when he opens the door tells him something terrible has happened to her. Her heartbreaking beauty is still apparent, only slightly diminished by the gaunt look of her face and her too-pale skin. Yet, it’s her eyes he notices the most. The eyes that once sparked emerald fire stare at him, flat and emotionless.
Haunted eyes.
The shock must have registered on his face because, in a quiet voice, she says, “I know what I look like.” Lowering her head as she stands on his doorstep, she asks if she can come inside.
“Lilli,” he stutters. “Of course. Come in.”
When she’s settled in the comfortable chair in his living room and sipping on the glass of water he brings to her, she says, “I know I have no right to be here, Tom, but… I need help. I’m so scared.” Her voice cracks on the last word and the glass of water shakes in her trembling hand.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
Her face becomes calmer when she hears his words. Then she turns those haunted eyes on him and says, “Do you believe in evil spirits, Tom?”
He practically jumped out of his skin when Adele buzzed him to say his three o’clock appointment, Ms. Amodeo, was settled in room four.
Still wrapped up in the memory of his last encounter with Lilli, a premonitory feeling rushed through him. Too much time had gone by since his last excursion downtown, and he resolved to go soon, tonight, if possible. Shaking off the dark shadow of apprehension that had fallen over him, he walked out of his office to see about Patty Amodeo, who was due to deliver next week.
Chapter 7
Jasmine leaned in close to the gold-framed mirror over the dressing table and applied Baby Love lip gloss to her full, well-delineated lips. Then she stepped back to assess the overall effect. Not bad. Silky folds of crimson fabric fell to the top of her slender thighs and the halter-style top of the dress criss-crossed her bosom, revealing the swell of her small, perfect breasts. The soft fabric bounced against her legs as she turned around to admire the cut, which left her lightly-tanned back exposed right down to the waist. Jasmine’s hair, freshly washed, fell in shiny golden waves over her smooth shoulders and halfway down her back, partially obscuring the tiny tattoo of a winged demon on her right shoulder. Aunt Dora had been appalled by the tattoo when she’d gotten it last year. Jasmine really didn’t know why she’d selected the image of the winged devil, except she’d felt drawn to it. She chose to wear no jewelry, save for the silver infinity ring Aunt Dora had given her for her sixteenth birthday, and which had belonged to Jasmine’s mother. Aunt Dora had the twin of that ring; her mother and aunt had purchased them during a trip to New York back in the early seventies.
Twenty-one! She could barely believe it. Carla and some of her friends from the Blue Flame had arranged something special at Raven’s, the trendiest new club in the city. A tiny frown crossed her brow when she realized T.K. would probably show up tonight as well, but she banished the thought immediately. She’d deal with it. Nothing was going to spoil her special night.
Jasmine glanced at the clock on her nightstand. Ten-thirty. She wasn’t due at Raven’s until eleven, but she called for a taxi and then went downstairs, intending to spend a few moments with Aunt Dora before leaving. Earlier, her aunt had gone to the trouble of preparing a special birthday dinner, and Jasmine appreciated the gesture, especially given the fact that they’d spoken little over the past couple of days as result of what Aunt Dora termed her carousing. She found her aunt in the kitchen, tidying up.
Aunt Dora smiled at her as she entered the room, a smile that turned her normally worried expression into one of sweetness.
“Let me look at you. Absolutely gorgeous.”
Jasmine was relieved Aunt Dora wasn’t mad anymore. Perhaps she had intuited that Jasmine’s careless demeanor was just her way of masking the isolation she felt. She also noticed that, for once, Aunt Dora had refrained from commenting that her outfit might attract the wrong kind of attention.
After a slight hesitation, her aunt said, “I have something for you. Something I’ve been keeping for you.”
Jasmine’s face lit up. “Sounds mysterious. What is it?” She followed her aunt to the foot of the stairs.
“Wait here,” said Dora. “I’ll be right down.”
A moment later, Aunt Dora came back downstairs, carrying two parcels wrapped in red paper and bound together with gold satin ribbon. She handed them to Jasmine.
“These belonged to your mother,” Dora said. “I thought today might be a good day for you to have them.”
Jasmine, who adored opening gifts, became doubly excited to learn her present had come, indirectly at least, from the mother she had never known. She was beginning to develop a real soft spot for Aunt Dora, despite their constant arguments.
“Open the small one first,” instructed her aunt, as they moved to the living room and sat down next to each other on the sofa.
“I’ve never seen this picture before. Where was it taken?” asked Jasmine. The photo showed her father and mother with their
