Jasmine gave Nydia a long, penetrating stare. She understood exactly what her friend was talking about because she’d trusted her ex-husband to oversee their decorating firm after she returned to college to earn a degree in human resource management. However, once she’d been hired by Wakefield Hamilton, she’d handed Raymond full control of the business to which she had given her blood and sweat, and occasionally a few tears, while she was content to remain a silent partner.
A wry smile twisted her mouth. “What’s the expression? You can’t cry over spilt milk. I’m giving myself until the end of the year to plan what I want to do with the rest of my life. Working part-time for that social services agency definitely kept me from going stir-crazy.”
Nydia waved away the waiter who had approached the table with a sword crammed with sirloin, lamb, pork tenderloin, and chicken. “I’m glad I took your advice to go into business for myself. I don’t expect to earn half of what I made at the bank, but I’m not bothered by that because now I make my own hours. This will be the first year that I’m doing tax returns at a discount for my employers’ workers, so hopefully I’ll be able to count on them to become regular customers come next year.”
“Good for you,” Jasmine said without a hint of guile.
It was apparent Jasmine’s former coworkers were getting their lives together while she was still uncertain how to proceed with her own. Last October Hannah married her former high-school classmate, and now Tonya was scheduled to marry his cousin the second Saturday in June. Although currently solvent, Jasmine still had another twenty years before she could even consider retirement, while she had Hannah McNair née DuPont-Lowell to thank for giving her the legal advice she needed to get her share of the business she had established before marrying Raymond Rios.
The distinctive ringtone on her cellphone indicated someone had sent her a message. “Excuse me. I need to check my messages.” Jasmine was expecting her cousin to confirm whether she was coming down from Buffalo to spend a week with her.
She tapped in her passcode and then the Messages icon. She went completely still when she read the message:
I’m in town and would like to take you out to dinner.
“What’s wrong?” Nydia asked when Jasmine stared at the screen.
“It’s Cameron Singleton. He’s in New York and he wants to take me out to dinner.”
Nydia leaned closer. “Isn’t he Hannah’s investment banker?”
Jasmine nodded. “He’d asked me out at her wedding reception, but when I told him I lived in New York he said he comes to New York every May to hang out with his college frat buddies.”
Nydia smiled. “It’s now May fifth, so are you going out with him?”
A slight frown furrowed Jasmine’s smooth forehead. “I don’t know. It’s been almost seven months and I thought he would’ve forgotten about me.”
Nydia gave her a ‘you’ve got to be kidding me look.’ “Don’t you have a mirror, Jazz? There’s not much about you a man would forget. And, you have nothing to lose if you go out with him. After all, it’s only dinner.”
Jasmine wanted to tell her friend she was more than aware of her looks, and she’d lost count of the number of times people referred to her asexotic. She wanted to tell them that she wasn’t a plant but mixed race—African-American and Filipina. “You’re right. It’s only dinner.” She tapped the keys on her phone.
Jasmine: When and where?
Cameron: What night are you free?
Jasmine: I’m free every night this week.
Now that she was unemployed again, she had nothing but time on her hands.
Cameron: How’s tomorrow night?
Jasmine: Tomorrow’s good
Cameron: I’ll pick you up at your place at 6:30. I’ll make reservations at a restaurant in the Financial District
Jasmine: What if I meet you there?
Cameron: No problem. Cipriani Club 55
Jasmine: See you tomorrow at 7
Cameron: Thank you.
“What are you smiling about?” Nydia asked.
Jasmine handed Nydia the phone. “Take a look.”
“Hey now. That’s what I call a real gentleman. He’s thanking you for going out with him. I’d like to think of him as a keeper.”
