Page 64 of The Love Audit
“Derek!” Jasmine’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts as she waved me over to the dance floor. The band had just launched into a soulful cover of Al Green’s “Let’s Stay Together.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her into my arms, the warmth of her smile radiating through me as we joined a small throng of couples swaying to the music.
“You are so silly, Derek Carter,” she whispered, her voice filled with affection as I held her close.
“You make me silly, Jasmine Morgan,” I replied, pressing my forehead to hers. A wild, impulsive thought struck me—a thought so crazy it might just make sense. Maybe it was the song, or the perfect weather, or the way she fit so perfectly in my arms. Maybeit was the gnawing fear that in a few days, this beautiful life we’d built together—pretend or not—might come crashing down.
“Let’s do it, Jasmine.” My voice was low but filled with conviction.
“Do what?” she asked with a giggle, her eyes twinkling as I spun her under my arm.
“Let’s stay together.” The words tumbled out in a rush.
Her giggle turned into a laugh. “What?”
“I mean it. Move in with me. Let’s get married for real.” My heart pounded in my chest.
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Are you saying this because of the song? Good thing they’re not playing ‘Let It Whip.’” She smirked, but her voice wavered slightly, betraying her emotion.
“I’m serious, Jasmine.” I stopped swaying, my hands resting on her hips as I gazed into her eyes. “I don’t know what’s going to happen after we quit our jobs and tell Eleanor and David the truth, but I know one thing for sure—I want it all to happen with you.”
Her breath hitched, and she stared at me like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Oh my, Derek, you’re serious. Don’t you think this is a little sudden?”
“No.” I shook my head firmly. “I think thirty years is plenty of time to get to know someone. And anything I don’t know yet, I’ll have fun learning.”
Her lips parted in a soft laugh as she shook her head. “It hasn’t actually been thirty years. It’s been seventeen, with a thirteen-year break, followed by one very tumultuous month.”
“Psssh!” I waved her off with a grin. “Details.” She threw her head back, her laughter ringing out like music, and I felt my heart swell. “So, what’s up, Jasmine? You want to stretch this monthinto a tumultuous lifetime?” I raised my eyebrows playfully, waiting for her answer.
She stared at me, her smile growing until it blossomed into a full-blown grin. “Yes.” Her voice was steady and sure. “Yes, I do.”
Before she could say another word, I lifted her off her feet and spun her around, laughter bubbling from both of us. I kissed her—long and deep—until the surrounding crowd erupted into cheers and applause.
We stayed on the dance floor for a few more songs, wrapped up in our own little world, before the band announced the children’s play was about to begin. Slipping my fiancée’s hand into mine, I led her across the field, feeling like the luckiest man alive.
Monday morning came too quickly. Jasmine and I agreed to tell David and Eleanor the truth at dinner tonight, so I had to rip the Band-Aid at work before breakfast. My morning walk with Tora seemed like the best time.
When I turned on my phone, I had three alerts from Marty Aldridge and six from my assistant.
“Hey, what’s going on?” I dispensed with formal greetings as soon as he answered the call.
“Tell me about Miller’s Cove.” His voice was low and even. It made me nervous.
“There’s nothing to tell.” I cleared my throat. “I was optimistic that there would be something here, but after spending time hereand crunching the numbers, it’s not worth it. There was probably a reason this project has been dead for thirty years.”
“Hmm…” he mused. “Well, that’s interesting, because Edward Mason doesn’t agree.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Edward Mason is moving forward with a Miller’s Cove project. Jasmine Morgan’s.”
My entire body froze.
“What?” I stammered. “That’s not possible.”
“Oh, it’s very possible,” he spit into the phone, “because it’s happening. Mason stamped the deal last week. I just found out this morning.”
“Last week?”
“Last week,” he confirmed. “You still think taking that extra time was a good idea? Fucking berries, Derek? Berries?”
