Page 9 of Trust Me

When she passed before I started university, I created my account as a way to feel connected to her. I posted videos of myself baking, but never my face to avoid my parents finding it. Over the years, I’ve gained a pretty decent following and I love sharing recipes with them.

My hope one day is to open my own bakery, but I haven’t worked up the courage to tell my parents that I want to use my business degree for that and not a boring desk job analyzing numbers all day.

To my mother, numbers are safe and predictable, but running your own business is not, which makes it to the bottom of the list for potential careers she sees as fit for me.

I push the thought out of my mind as I slip on my sandals and lock the door behind me. I get into my car to drive over to my…new home.

Great.

Chapter 4

Jasmine

The drive over to Felix Avenue is short, which is not nearly enough time for me to talk myself out of doing this.

I had no idea Camille even lived here until Elio said something. It’s something I need to remind myself to ask her about because I wonder how she’s affording to live on this side of town.

Entering the digits Elio texted me yesterday along with his address, I pull into the designated lot to his condo and instantly feel out of place. There are luxurious cars in every spot, making my 2013 Corolla look ancient.

I may have grown up comfortably, but I didn’t grow up in this kind of tax bracket.

After locking my car, I trudge myself through the glass revolving doors, the minimalist and sleek lobby catching my eye. It’s clean, with white walls and marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and fresh flowers on every table.

I prefer my personal space to be more colorful and full of life, but I can’t help but appreciate the beauty of things that scream elegance, and this entire building does that.

“Good morning, ma’am, how may I help you?” an older gentleman in a suit asks.

“Good morning. Uh, what’s your name?” I ask because I was raised to always address people by their name. It’s a sign of respect.

“Colin Patts. I’m the doorman here, and you are?”

“Nice to meet you, Colin. I’m Jasmine Park.”

“Miss Park, welcome. What can I do for you?” His light blue eyes are welcoming, and I can tell he genuinely enjoys his job.

“Call me Jasmine, please. I’m here to meet with Elio Mazzo. He texted me the details if you need proof.”

He waves me off. “There’s no need, Miss Jasmine. If Mr. Mazzo has a visitor, I know it’s because he’s invited them. You can use the elevator right there and go up to the fourth floor.”

I thank him and head off in the direction of the elevator, trying my best not to overthink what Colin told me. What did he mean by that?

In the elevator, I hit the fourth-floor button, waiting nervously for the cart to reach my destination. The doors ping open and I walk out into the hallway. It’s lined with a sleek black carpet and art frames are strewn about on the white walls on each side.

Once at Elio’s front door, I pat my mini black dress down. I opted for a simple skinny strap dress that hugs my breasts, the material flaring out at the waist. I paired it with sandals, wanting to look casual yet presentable.

With a calming breath, I knock on his door, 401, which I guess is soon to be our door. It instantly opens, as if Elio were waiting for me behind it.

He towers over me, his dark hair ruffled and not as perfectly kept as I’ve seen it before. I want to hate and find fault in it, but damn it, I think I like it. His black T-shirt accentuates his broad chest, the arms tight against his biceps, and I can see a hint of his defined abs underneath.

And to top it off, he’s wearing gray sweatpants.

Asshole.

He knows girls are weak for that, and now I’m regretting getting so dressed up if he was going to look like he rolled out of bed.

“Are you done checking me out?” he teases, his tongue poking his cheek.

I roll my eyes, tempted to turn on my heel and get the hell out of here, but then I remember how much I need a place to stay and how much I want my business to grow so that I can eventually live on my own.

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