Page 51 of Bitter Secrets

She returned to a world she knew more intimately than Tuxedo Park. The fantasy world she abandoned three years ago was alive and thriving. Her characters welcomed her with open arms and were eager to tell her what had happened in her absence. It was like entering the magical world of Narnia. Time passed at a different pace for them than it did for her. Any time she wanted to visit, all she had to do was open that door in her mind, and she would be immersed in it.

She sat at her kitchen table, writing like a madman. One scene expanded into another, and before she knew it, she had ten pages of notes. If it wasn’t for her alarm, she would have forgotten she had class. She forced herself to attend, but she didn’t hear a damn thing. How could she when her characters were whispering in her ears about the stirrings of dark magic in the north, rumors of war, and a prophecy of a man with murky origins who would save their kingdom, and be her downfall. She knew instinctively that the man the prophecy spoke of was the one she met on the hill. It seemed the other characters had no knowledge of their meeting. She didn’t tell them that their plans to keep him at bay wouldn’t work. He was already in their midst.

Management communication, corporate finance, and regression analysis didn’t hold a candle to the story unfolding in her mind like an endless origami with so many facets that she struggled to capture it all as details flowed through her hands like water. The other world was a siren’s call she was powerless to resist, and even if she could break free, she didn’t want to.

She tried to rush out of class, but she was waylaid by classmates who wanted to get together over the weekend. Thankfully, she had Dad’s party as an excuse. That should have been the end of that, but as always, when it came to anything centered around her family, they were keen to know more. Unfortunately, she wasn’t privy to more. Ariana emailed her the guest list two weeks ago, so she could memorize it. Based on the number of venture capitalists and the fact that her sisters sent a detailed itinerary along with an outfit that had matching shoes, clutch, and jewelry, she knew something big was going down. The event had actually been causing her quite a bit of anxiety, since she would be attending without Ford. It was astonishing how quickly she had grown accustomed to being on his arm. People seemed to respect her more now that she was engaged. She wished he wasn’t out of the country.

She didn’t dare tell her classmates who was on the guest list, or she never would have been able to get away. Those in attendance would be a budding entrepreneur's wet dream. She brushed shoulders with some of the wealthiest and most brilliant minds in the world. That was nothing new, but she wished she had no knowledge of the men behind the companies they studied in class. The fact that her father and his cronies held positions for the most coveted internships and jobs every year was hard for her to stomach.

When she finally made it back to her apartment, she let herself be swept away. She didn’t realize night had fallen until she could no longer see her notebook. She didn’t stop writing until her fingers cramped. Drained, she collapsed in bed, but with a smile on her face.

The next morning, she was ecstatic to discover the characters were still present. The connection wasn’t as strong. It was faint, like listening to people talking in the next room. She had to concentrate to hear them clearly, but what little she could make out was enough to continue right where she left off. Leery of cutting that precious connection, she canceled her hair appointment. Why waste time at the hairdresser when she could style it in a fraction of time?

Jasmine hissed as they hit a pothole, causing her pen to slash across the page. She glared at the back of the driver's head. Was he doing it deliberately? He hadn’t said one word since she climbed into the car, which was a blessing. The last thing she wanted was a chatty driver for the two-hour drive from Philadelphia to New York, but if he kept this up, her notes wouldn’t be legible. Before she could make up her mind whether to lecture her driver or not, his phone rang.

“Yes?” the driver said, and then his voice deepened. “Yes, ma’am.”

Her pen paused.

“Yes, I have her,” the man said and then, “We ran into some traffic. We’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Yes, I understand. Will do.”

She waited for a report, but when she didn’t get one, she prompted, “Anyone I know?”

“Mrs. Khan. She wanted to know why we’re running late.”

There was no recrimination in his voice. Maybe he wasn’t running over potholes to mess with her. “Thanks.”

He shrugged. “I get paid by the hour.”

She nodded, then refocused on her notebook. If Ariana noticed she was missing, that meant Colette knew as well. And, unless something catastrophic happened, Dad would be told. Two days ago, this would have made her break out in a cold sweat, but today, it was a minor irritation.

“What are you writing?” the driver asked.

“An essay for school,” she lied as she finished her sentence.

“Must be some essay.”

His dry tone clearly said he wasn’t buying it, but she didn’t try to convince him otherwise.

“Mrs. Khan said she tried your cell phone,” the driver continued.

“I couldn’t find it,” she said absently.

He grunted. “Thought people your age don’t go anywhere without them.”

“I’m not like most people.”

“I noticed.”

She looked up at that before she brushed off the comment and returned to her Oz. She wasn’t sure what people expected, but it seemed no matter what she did, she never met anyone’s expectations, even her father’s driver.

“Heads up.”

She looked up as the car began to slow. When had they entered the city? She stuffed her notebook into her clutch as the door was opened by staff of Hennessy Tower.

“Thank you!” she called to the driver before she took the hand extended to her and stepped out of the vehicle.

“Ms. Hennessy,” the man murmured. “We’ve been waiting for your arrival.”