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Authors: Victoria Christopher Murray

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Religious

Too Little, Too Late (23 page)

BOOK: Too Little, Too Late
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FIFTY-FIVE

A
LEXIS WONDERED IF ANYONE
had ever died from trembling. Or would she be the first case on record?

Maybe her death wouldn’t come from trembling at all. Maybe shock would be her demise. She was still stunned as she barreled south on the freeway. As stunned as she had been when she first looked into that little girl’s face.

Brian’s face.

“Brian has a daughter.” She paused, let that thought settle. “With Jasmine.”

She yelled those words into the wind, hoping that somehow a gust would sweep them away.

But the words stubbornly stayed right in the car with her.

“Brian has a daughter. With Jasmine.”

How bizarre was this?

And then there was the man with the calming spirit, consoling words.

“I want to pray for you, Alexis,” were Hosea’s words. “You can get through this. I did.”

“You knew?”

“Yes. Since the beginning. That’s why I know you’ll be fine.”

She’d thanked him, before she turned away. Maybe he’d gotten through it. Because his wife had an affair with Brian. But she would never get over this. Because her husband had an affair with Jasmine!

Of all the women in the world.

Suddenly, Alexis laughed. Threw back her head and guffawed as if the truth was a joke. She laughed. And kept laughing so that she wouldn’t cry. Knowing that if she shed even one tear her cries would never stop.

So she laughed at the fact that her husband was a sex addict. She laughed because he was a baby’s daddy. She laughed at the baby’s mama being Jasmine Larson.

She wondered if this was the only child who’d been born from this addiction. Not that it mattered. One baby with Jasmine was way beyond anything she could handle. Her life as the missus to the doctor was so over.

She wished she’d already been packed. Wished that she could just walk into their penthouse, grab her bags, and walk right back out. But no matter how long it would take, she was gone. Babies certainly weren’t part of this deal. And a baby with Jasmine Larson? Please!

There was nothing to talk about. No psychologists to see. No pastors to pray with. No one could give her a reason to stay now.

FIFTY-SIX

J
ASMINE ROLLED OVER, THEN
slowly opened her eyes when she didn’t feel the warmth of her husband next to her. She reached out, touched the empty space. Still, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust and another moment before she saw him. Sitting across from her, in the chair, in the dark.

“Hosea.” She turned toward the lamp on the nightstand.

“No, leave it off,” he said, his eyes now focused on her.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

He nodded. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

Jasmine certainly understood. The air was still thick with tension when she laid her head on the pillow last night. It was only fatigue that allowed her to fall asleep and finally escape the horrid day.

The fiasco in the hotel lobby was just the beginning. When she and Hosea had returned to their suite, Hosea called the studio, then spent the rest of the day at home—with Jacqueline. He stayed inside her room where he read to her and held her. Not leaving her alone, as if he feared his departure might separate him from his daughter forever.

But while he laughed and played with their daughter, he had few words for his wife.

Jasmine’s heart had ached—with her fear and his pain. She’d wanted to reach out, love him, and convince him that Alexis and Brian’s mess had nothing to do with them.

But she’d said nothing, knowing the best way to handle her husband was to not to handle him at all. Hosea just needed space…and time. Soon enough, he’d realized that nothing had changed in their lives.

While Hosea was with Jacqueline, Jasmine had spent time with Mae Frances…and with God.

“Jasmine Larson, I cannot believe what you’ve gotten yourself into now,” Mae Frances had exclaimed when Jasmine went to her friend’s suite for a bit of consoling. “What did Preacher Man say?”

“He hasn’t said anything. At least not to me. Just seems to want to talk to Jacquie right now.”

“I don’t know,” Mae Frances had said, shaking her head. “Seems like there could be some big trouble coming.”

Jasmine couldn’t run back to her own suite fast enough.

Since Mae Frances hadn’t given her a bit of reassurance, she hoped that God would. Inside her bedroom, with Jacqueline’s giggles wafting across the suite, she asked God to make it all right with her family. Prayed that by the time Hosea came to their room, he’d be ready to make love and forget about the disaster of the day.

But Hosea was silent when he finally came to bed. Moved around with his head down as if his mind was heavy. With thoughts of her and Brian. And now, Alexis.

“Can you tell me something?” Hosea asked her now.

Jasmine sat up and pulled her knees to her chest. Even in the dark, she could see his eyes, focused on her.

“Weren’t you and Alexis friends?”

Oh, God,
she thought. She’d been right. He
was
still thinking about Alexis. “She was never my friend, Hosea. Not really.”

“It came back to me,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “As I was waiting for Alexis to come out of the bathroom, I remembered I met her in New York. At Tavern on the Green.”

Jasmine closed her eyes and played in her mind the day when she and Hosea and Reverend Bush had run into Alexis and Brian. She’d been shocked when the three of them had walked into the restaurant and Alexis had called her name. And then, she’d almost fainted when she realized that Brian was there with his wife. Brian had greeted her that day as if he didn’t know her. As if they hadn’t been knocking boots every chance they got.

“Do you remember what happened that night, Jasmine?”

Slowly, she nodded. Softly, she said, “It was the best night of my life, Hosea. You were in the hospital, but you asked me to marry you.”

“I thought we were going to have a wonderful life.”

She swallowed her fear. Stayed calm. “We’ve had a few bumps, but we’re still happy,” she told him, feeling he needed to be reminded.

“Something else I remember,” he paused for a moment, “is that Alexis said you’d known each other for a long time.”

She wanted to scream.
Why are you still talking about Alexis?

“How long have you known her?”

She had to get Hosea back to just the two of them. “I don’t think—”

His voice rose, just a bit. “How long, Jasmine?”

She sucked in air. “For a lot of years. Almost twenty, I think.” She paused when she heard his moan. “But we weren’t friends,” she told him again.

“So that’s why it was okay to sleep with her husband?”

She winced. Tried to remember that this had been a tough day. That’s all this inquisition was about. “Hosea, what I did was wrong. And I’ve apologized. But that happened years ago.”

“It wasn’t that long ago.”

She had to keep him focused, on what was important, what was true. “It was long ago enough so that it’s in my past. It’s not who I am now.”

“Turn on the lamp.”

It took her a moment to do as she was told. And he stared at her. Looked as if he saw her differently in the light.

He pushed himself from the chair, and in his eyes, she could see it—the pain of what she’d done, rising up, the bad taking over the good.

He said, “I have to get ready for work. I have an early meeting.”

If she wasn’t trying to get him on her side, she would have called him a liar and demand to know what kind of meeting took place before the sun even rose. But she couldn’t say anything, because it was her lies that had brought them back to this place.

When he closed the bathroom door, she lay down, feeling as if she was living in the middle of déjà vu—right back where this had all started.

She closed her eyes, prayed that the same blessings that had brought her and Hosea out of this before would bring them back together again. And then she repeated that prayer three times. Just as Mae Frances had told her to do.

Jasmine had come ready to fight, ready to remind Hosea just how wonderful their life had been and would be again.

She hoisted Jacqueline on her hip and balanced the picnic basket with her other hand.

“Oh!” Brittney jumped up from behind her desk and ran to the studio’s door. “Your hands are full!” She laughed as she grabbed Jacqueline from Jasmine. “She is so adorable,” Brittney cooed.

“Thanks for agreeing to watch her,” Jasmine said. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“We’ll be fine. Sharon will cover the phones while Jacquie and I will hang out in the break room. I made sure that Hosea’s calendar was clear; he’s free for the rest of the afternoon.” She lowered her voice and peeked at the basket Jasmine had rested on her desk. “I didn’t tell him a thing.”

Jasmine kissed her daughter. “Be good, babygirl.” Then to Brittney, she added, “Can you make sure we’re not disturbed?”

Brittney giggled. “I can handle that. Just make sure you lock the door.”

Jasmine laughed.
That
wasn’t part of the plan, but it wasn’t a bad idea. Anything to get Hosea back to where they used to be.

With a quick prayer, then a quicker knock, Jasmine stepped into her husband’s office before he could invite her in.

“Hey, babe.” She closed the door behind her.

From his desk, Hosea looked up, frowned, just a little. “What are you doing here?” he asked, confused. “Did I—”

“You didn’t forget a thing.” Holding up the basket, she added, “This is for you.” She held her breath and then relaxed when his frown faded into a bit of a smile. “I brought all your favorites. All you have to bring is you.” When he glanced down at the calendar, she added, “I hope you have some time for me,” knowing that he did.

When he looked at her, in his eyes she could see his thoughts, his memories of yesterday. And she could see his battle, his fight to forget. “I have an hour or so.”

She felt complete relief. “An hour is good.”

In silence, they worked together, unloading the basket, stacking the sandwiches onto their plates, then setting the glasses to the side. Every time she had the chance, her fingers grazed his hands. She needed to touch him, wanted him to feel her.

She said, “Remember when we used to have these indoor picnics before we were married?”

“All the time.” He drifted back on more memories. “This was one of my favorite things to do with you.” Then he said, “Jasmine, I—”

At the same time, she said, “Hosea, I—”

They both stopped. Both chuckled. She breathed fully now, sure that they’d be fine. They were talking together, laughing together. On one accord.

She motioned with her hands for him to continue. “You first.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry about this morning. It’s just that yesterday—” Before he could say more, his office door swung open.

“Oh…Jasmine.” Then the grimace on Natasia’s face changed from scorn to a smile. “How are you?”

Jasmine was not fooled by this show for Hosea. But she would not be outplayed. “I’m fine, Natasia.” Her smile was just as wide, just as fake.

Natasia smirked, a look that Jasmine was sure her husband didn’t see. “What’s this?” she asked, looking down at the spread across the desk.

What does it look like, heifer?
“Hosea and I are having lunch.” She had to work not to add,
Mind your business.

“Really?” Natasia’s eyes were wide with innocence when she turned to Hosea. “You must’ve forgotten.”

“What?” He frowned.

“The edits for the special. They have to be done by three today.”

“That’s tomorrow.”

“Nope, today.” She glanced at her watch. “In fact, we’re running late.”

Jasmine’s eyes narrowed. She could see right through this, but when she turned to her husband, she could tell that he didn’t share her vision.

“Jasmine…” he began, his apology already in his tone.

It’s a trick!
But aloud, she said, “Baby, you still have to eat.” She waved away Natasia with her hand. “We won’t be long. Let me feed my husband and he’ll get right back to you.”

Hosea shook his head. “I can’t. We pay by the hour for the editing room and—”

Natasia interrupted, “We really need to get going, Hosea,” as if she were not the one intruding.

“You can delay it by an hour, right?” Jasmine asked Hosea.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I really have to take care of this.” He paused, and then tossed her a bone. “Maybe we can do this for dinner?”

It was only God who made her act with good sense. “Okay,” she said, although she made it clear with her tone and her stance that she was far from fine. She lifted the basket’s lid, dumped the food back inside without wrapping up a thing.

“Let me help,” Natasia sang.

Jasmine snatched the plate away from her, good sense now gone.

Hosea jumped in front of Jasmine as if he needed to stop whatever she might do next. “I’ll be home early.”

She didn’t get the chance to accept his offering before Natasia said, “We’ll probably be working late, Hosea. I need to go over the final budget with you.”

His lips just grazed Jasmine’s cheek as if he was in a hurry to make a getaway. “I’ll call you later.”

“Good seeing you again.” Natasia waved.

That was more than she could take. Jasmine slammed the top of the basket shut, then stomped from the office. Ten minutes hadn’t even passed before she was back in front of Brittney and Jacqueline.

“Seems like Hosea did have a meeting,” she said to Brittney.

“I’m really sorry about that. I don’t know how I missed it, but I knew something was up when Natasia came by and asked what Hosea was doing behind closed doors. I told her you didn’t want to be disturbed, but when she still marched down the hall, I figured it had to be important. I’m sorry,” she said again.

I knew it!
“That’s okay.” She took Jacqueline’s hand. “Do you want this?”

Brittney’s eyes widened as she took the basket from Jasmine. “Thanks!”

As Jasmine rode down in the elevator, she marveled at Natasia’s nerve. If she hadn’t been the enemy, Natasia may have been a woman to be admired. Natasia had tricks Jasmine hadn’t even thought of, and now she had timing on her side. With Brian back in their lives, Hosea could become weak.

Since Natasia had come to New York, Jasmine had feared her, but deep inside, she always knew she’d win. Now with Alexis and Brian in the picture and with Natasia’s not-to-be-denied fortitude, Jasmine wasn’t so sure anymore who would be the victor.

BOOK: Too Little, Too Late
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