Page 30 of Don't Forget Me
How had that not leaked? Sympathy overcame her anger, but when she turned toward Nick, he refused to look at her.
Instead, he slid from the stool. “Just make sure you clean up after yourself when you’re done.”
All sympathy disappeared as he walked away. “Jerk,” she called after him.
“Glad you’re catching on.” His words were so quiet she wondered if she’d misheard him.
Returning to her baking, she couldn’t summon the anger she had before. Hollywood’s press-dubbed Golden Couple weren’t so golden after all.
It made him seem a bit more human than he had before.
10
THE REPORTER
Hospitals were not exactly a reporter’s dream duty, especially when the reason for being there was to follow the accident of some spoiled drunken actor who couldn’t seem to call a car instead of getting behind the wheel.
Jasmine Harbor wanted to be in on the action, following presidential campaigns and entering war-torn zones in foreign countries to bring light to the atrocities happening right under the collective noses of the world.
Yet, she stood in Gulf City, Florida, a tiny town she’d once called home, on the outskirts of Tampa. It was full of tourists and rich people who went back and forth between their beach homes and their houses up north.
Before interviewing Nick Jacobs on the set of his movie—an assignment she hadn’t asked for—she’d never wanted to come back here. But her editor decided she knew the area, so she was the only person for the job. She’d barely gotten settled back in L.A. before having to hop on a plane to return.
It was hard to keep the contempt in. One day, all these people would have to give up those second homes when this area was underwater, leaving only families like hers who’d been here too long to just pick up and go.
But instead of reporting on global warming or some issue equally important, her editor at Hollywood Magazine told her to try to see the person behind the actor. She’d scoffed at that, wondering if the actor had seen the people behind the wheel of the car he’d hit.
Nurses and doctors hovered over rolling monitors, conversing in the quiet hall. The unit they’d put Nick Jacobs in was located in the farthest reaches of the hospital. She only learned of it after hearing two of the doctors talking in the coffee shop.
Two guards stood outside his door, checking the ID of every doctor, every nurse. It made sense, Jasmine supposed. Nick Jacobs was Hollywood’s biggest news right now. He crashed his car into another, injuring a father of two.
And he hadn’t woken up since.
Most people didn’t believe he would, but those same people said it was also for the best. Even if Nick didn’t face a conviction for his actions—since he was sure to hire the best lawyers—who could live with the reputation they’d gain after doing something like that?
Sherrie Thompson walked down the hall toward the room, and Jasmine pressed herself against the wall, not wanting to catch the eye of the woman who’d been going on every talk show to milk her own tragedy.
Running a hand down her stolen scrubs, Jasmine reminded herself she blended in. One thing her mother taught her through her many years in nursing was how often people came and went. They wouldn’t bat an eye as long as she looked the part.
Her fingers found the hard edges of the ID badge she’d had created for her—thanks to a source. It wouldn’t hold up under intense scrutiny, but the security guards would only glance at it.
She hoped.
This wasn’t her first rodeo. Sneaking through hospitals was a requirement to be a gossip reporter. It was just something she’d never wanted to do.
Pushing away from the wall, she straightened her shoulders and touched her hair to make sure it was still in place. Knowing she had to look the part of a young nurse who hadn’t been jaded by a career in Hollywood, she’d spent the time braiding her curly black hair halfway before tying it and letting the rest poof out behind her.
Her boss would have considered her look unprofessional—the dude couldn’t handle when she looked like her proud black self—but was skulking through hospitals really the height of professionalism?
With a deep breath, she tapped the record button on her phone and slipped it into her pocket, needing proof of everything that was said.
Following in Sherrie’s steps, she stopped at security and showed the burly man on the left her ID, barely breathing until he nodded for her to enter.
As soon as she stepped through, sounds assaulted her. Machines beeped and whirred, keeping track of every aspect of Nick Jacob’s health.
Before she’d met him on the set of his movie recently, Jasmine always thought he’d be larger than life. That was how others described him. Grumpy, gruff, but more talented than most. He was good, he just didn’t seem like he wanted to be good.
At least, that was what Jasmine’s roommate told her. Heidi was an aspiring actress who’d been an extra in a single scene with Nick and fallen completely in love.
