Page 7 of Bitter Confessions

“No, um...” Jasmine pinched the bridge of her nose as Roth’s claim about her sister replayed in her mind: “She’s been abusing prescription drugs for years. She’s been trying to kick her habit, but she relapsed half a dozen times this year.” “How are you?”

“Not as good as you,” Ariana said wryly. “Where are you?”

“Back in London.”

“Does that mean you’ll make it back in time for Thanksgiving?”

“Roth told Lyle we would, but...” She resumed her search for any machine that could produce her elixir of life. Roth loved coffee as much as she did. She refused to believe he didn’t have a freaking gold French press or something. “Roth’s running behind on his meetings. I’ll let you know when we’re back in the States.”

“I hope you can make it. Colette’s hosting, and she’s going all out since it’s Polara’s first holiday. She used to be as annoyed as Dad about any event that interfered with work, and now...” Ariana let out a shaky breath. “Things are so different.”

Jasmine’s hand tightened on the phone. “Are you okay?”

“Of course. Why?”

“You sound like you have a cold or something.”

“It’s allergies.”

She waited and even checked the phone to make sure her sister was still on the line before murmuring, “Ari?”

Ariana’s voice was a tad muffled as she said, “Today makes ten weeks.”

“Ten...?” Jasmine echoed, bewildered, before realization hit.

“Minnie?” When she didn’t answer, Ariana sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put a damper on your day.”

Grief clawed at Jasmine’s throat. First Roth, and now Ariana was putting her through the wringer without letting her get her bearings or a hit of caffeine first.

“Colette was discussing the menu and asked for my opinion on the wine selection. I asked if she had a bottle of Dad’s favorite scotch before I remembered.” Ariana let out a strained laugh. “It’s not like we celebrated a ton of holidays together, but it hit me that he wouldn’t be there, and I...” Ariana’s breath hitched before she finished. “I didn’t mean to bother you with this. You’re on your honeymoon. This is the last thing you need.”

“You aren’t bothering me at all. If you need to talk, call me anytime.” Jasmine calculated the time difference with a frown. “What the hell are you doing up at three in the morning anyway?”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I’d get a jump start on my to-do list. It’s been challenging fulfilling my role and Colette’s.” A pause, and then, “Not that I can’t handle it. We’re just going through a rough patch.”

“What kind of rough patch?” she said sharply.

They had a deal. Roth said he would help her sisters out of the rut they were in. If he wasn’t doing his part...

“Roth gave us advice that Colette thought I should implement immediately. It’s turned the office upside down, but I’m confident we’re through the worst of it, and everything will settle in a week or two.” Ariana let out a long breath. “There’s been so much change, personally and professionally. Losing Dad, Colette giving birth, you getting married, Roth’s involvement in the company... It’s been so hectic. I’ve never been so unsure of myself, so... I don’t know. I just haven’t been myself lately.”

Jasmine’s pulse quickened. “I can help. Whatever you need.”

Ariana let out a watery chuckle. “I don’t think Roth would appreciate me taking up your spare time.”

“He wouldn’t mind at all,” Jasmine denied, jolting when she saw a large shadow out of the corner of her eye. She glared at Roth, who leaned against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his chest, as he listened to her side of the conversation.

“Somehow, I doubt that.” Ariana sounded weary and amused. “I hope you make it back in time for Thanksgiving. Kye and Bailey have been missing you.”

“Tell them I’ll see them soon.”

“Will do. I should get back to work. Thanks for the chat. Have fun in London for me!”

Her sister’s forced cheer made Jasmine wince. She was glad Ariana hung up before she had to respond. Her voice would have betrayed her tenuous hold on her emotions. She stood there for a moment, wrangling the grief that threatened to drag her under. She didn’t have time to indulge in a crying spell over her father—not when his greatest foe was watching her, ready to pounce on any hint of weakness. Her father had been gone for ten weeks. Was that all? How had she managed to make such a mess of her life in so short a time?

“Who was that?”

“Ariana.”

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