Jasmine’s audible intake of breath reverberated in the vehicle. “What happened?”
“Fifteen years ago my mother was in a car accident that resulted in severe head trauma. The doctors put her into a drug-induced coma to reduce the swelling on her brain, and the chief doctor of the department of neurosurgery predicted that if she did come out of the coma she wouldn’t be the same. It was a wake-up call for my father who refused to leave her bedside, except to go to the hospital chapel to pray for her full recovery. Within weeks he went from a controlling, bombastic, arrogant tyrant to a humble, repentant husband. Miraculously she came out of it without any lingering adverse effects. After spending two months in the hospital, she came home and she and Dad were like loving newlyweds and have been that way ever since. This August they will celebrate their fiftieth wedding anniversary.”
Jasmine smiled. “Good for them. I assume they realized fighting wasn’t worth it when they may lose someone they really love.”
Cameron nodded. “That’s what Dad said after he brought Mom home. He’d married her because he loved her but he also wanted to control her, and my mother is too independent to allow a man to have that kind of power over her.”
“Why didn’t she divorce him?”
“My mother doesn’t believe in divorce, and I suppose she stayed in the marriage because she thought it would eventually get better. Regrettably it took a near-death situation for it to get better.”
“What’s the expression?Better late than never.”
Lines fanned out around Cameron’s eyes when he smiled. “You’re right about that. The few times I attempted to intervene in my parents’ brouhaha, my mother cautioned me to stay out of it because she didn’t want to involve her children in something she could handle on her own. She could be like a rabid coon when cornered, which meant she could give itandtake it.”
“I’m glad they were finally able to save their marriage.”
Cameron brought Jasmine’s hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. His parents were fortunate to have been given a second chance, while it hadn’t been the same with Jasmine. He concentrated on driving, as he replayed the events that led to Jasmine’s divorce and her reluctance to trust men. He’d registered the pain in her voice when she mentioned her ex-husband’s duplicity. His cheating on her was traumatic enough, but to have a child with another woman while denying his wife the possibility of becoming a mother was loathsome. Well, in the end Jasmine had become the victor because she had denied the scheming leech what he wanted. If it had been up to Cameron he’d have made certain that the man only got one percent instead of ten.
He maneuvered around the corner to her street, found the underground garage and when Jasmine leaned over to press a remote device attached to the underside of the driver’s visor he recoiled as if burned when her breast brushed his forearm. The flesh between his thighs stirred and he pressed his knees together in an attempt to suppress an erection. The barrier went up and he drove through.
“My space is 52,” Jasmine said as he deliberately slowed to less than ten miles an hour to give himself time for his hard-on to go down. He found her assigned space and parked.
Cameron shut off the engine, got out and came around to help her out, and then reached behind the passenger seat for the cooler Danita had packed with leftovers. Grasping the handles of the cooler in one hand, he rested his free hand at the small of Jasmine’s back. She waved to the attendant in the booth at the entrance as he led her out of the garage and across the street. It was a warm spring night and the sidewalks were teeming with people taking advantage of the unseasonably balmy weather.
Spring and fall were his favorite seasons to visit the city where he’d attended college. Cameron had planned to return to New York for his graduate studies but chose Loyola University instead for an MBA with a specialization track in finance. He’d registered for courses in investment and venture capital investment, and financial decision modeling.
Jasmine greeted the doorman on duty with a friendly smile when they walked into the lobby. She retrieved her mail while Cameron punched the button for the elevator. They stepped into the car and rode to the eighteenth floor, and when she opened the door to her apartment and he followed her inside Cameron was stunned with the panorama unfolding before his startled gaze. Jasmine’s condo was a palette in varying shades of white: walls, area rugs, chairs, sofa, drapes, and tables, and he wondered if her life since her divorce was absent of color and sterile as her home.
Chapter 7
Jasmine took the cooler from Cameron. She knew he was shocked to see the all-white furnishings. “I redecorated after my divorce.”
“Why white, Jasmine?”
She slipped out of her shoes and left them on the mat in the entryway, and then set the cooler on the floor. “White is romantic, intimate, and it can be fragile or strong. But if you look closely, the dining area table and chairs have a pale-green patina. It’s the same with most of the tables.” She touched a wall light switch and the pendants in the living and dining areas illuminated whites and off-whites, creams, palest-greens, oyster-grays, and blues. Creamy moth orchids overflowed from milk-glass pots lining a table in front of wall-to-wall windows spanning the living and dining rooms. He realized the walls weren’t at first glance white but a cool icy-blue.
“Exquisite.” The single word was a whisper.
“You like it?”
“I’m at a loss for words,” Cameron admitted. “Before you turned on the lights I thought everything appeared so sterile, but that’s not the case. I can see the blues, greens, and gray.”
“The downside is keeping everything clean.”
Cameron kicked off his running shoes, leaving them on the mat beside Jasmine’s. “It’s obvious your place isn’t child-proof.”
Jasmine watched Cameron as he walked over to the entertainment unit with a large flat screen, audio components with a sound bar, and shelves cradling family photographs. “I definitely would not have selected white furnishings if I had children, because I’d have to have the chairs and sofas reupholstered every few years and have washable paint.”
He turned and stared out the wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling windows, hands clasped behind his back. “The views from up here are spectacular.”
She nodded. “Most time I don’t draw the drapes because I love looking out the windows.”
“I can see why you didn’t want to give up this place.”
“I’d only give it up to buy a larger unit in the building.”
Cameron turned to face her. “Are there two- or three-bedrooms units available?”
