Page 7 of Pleasure Games

Your parents are worried. You should call them.

Jazz? Are you in Paris?

Instead of replying to the text, Jasmine touched the FaceTime button. Her best friend answered immediately. The video was grainy, but Jasmine could still see the dark circles beneath Ashley’s hazel eyes and that her fine blond hair had yet to be combed.

“What time is it there?” Jasmine asked by way of a greeting.

Ashley blinked. “It’s twenty to ten.”

“In the morning?”

Ashley’s eyes narrowed. “I knew it. You went to Paris, didn’t you?”

“See for yourself,” Jasmine said, panning her phone to give Ashley a panoramic view of the Paris skyline.

“Holy shit,” she heard Ashley comment. “Nice.”

Switching the screen back to face her, Jasmine half smiled. “It’s nicer now that I have you to share it with.” She sighed. Damn if her lip didn’t start quivering. “If I had been thinking clearly, I would have changed the other ticket and brought you with me.” Her lip quivered for real and she covered her mouth to quell the shaking.

“If you had been thinking clearly, you would have at least told me—told someone—what you were doing. Jesus, Jazz. We’ve been so worried.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just...” She had to stop talking because the trembling in her lips spread across her face, pricking the backs of her eyes until tears spilled over her lashes. She shook her head since words were impossible at the moment.

“Have you talked to Parker?” Ash asked softly.

“No.” Jazz wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. “I’m not going to, either.”

“Understandable. What about your parents?”

“I will.” She passed back through the French doors into the hotel suite and plopped down at the table, plucking a sweating strawberry from the plate and popping it into her mouth.

“So, what are you going to do?” Ash asked. “God, those strawberries look good, by the way.”

Jazz grabbed another berry and bit into it. “They are good. Really sweet.” Her voice cracked on the last word and the chocolate-covered berry suddenly tasted like ashes in her mouth. She swallowed the lump with difficulty.

After a pause, Ashley piped up, “I’ll tell you what you’re going to do.”

“What?”

“You are going to have yourself an adventure.”

“An adventure?”

“Yep. You want to forget about Parker? Go have fun. Do all the things that you want to do. Shop on the Champs-Élysées, go on wine tours and see the sights. Hell, take a train to Monte Carlo and rack up Parker’s credit cards.”

Something hot yet icy lanced Jasmine’s gut. “Oh, God. The credit cards.” She shook her head vehemently. “I don’t want to use them.”

“What do you mean?” Ash asked, leaning closer to her phone camera. “After all you’ve been through? You deserve to spend some of Parker’s money.”

“No. I can’t do it. I can’t live off of him anymore. It’s just so...” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Symbolic of my life with him. Dependent and lame.”

Even from across the distance, Jasmine heard Ashley’s deep inhalation, followed by a long exhalation. “But, how are you going to survive if you don’t?”

The reminder that she had no way of supporting herself slammed through Jasmine. When she’d met Parker she’d been working as a stylist in an upscale salon. She’d liked the job—loved it, actually—but as her relationship with Parker progressed, they’d seen little reason for her to keep it. He made more than enough to support them.

“I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think about money before I left.”

Ashley rubbed her jaw, her gaze sliding up and to the side as she considered this possibility. Her gaze returned to the screen. “Where’s the ring?”

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