Cameron stared at Jasmine, and then burst into laughter. “Why do I feel as if I’m in Starbucks?”
Jasmine’s laughter joined his. “Because you’re looking at a trained barista.”
He sobered quickly. “You are?”
She nodded. “My uncle bought an espresso machine several years ago and taught me how to use it. That’s when I figured out it was cost-effective to purchase my own machine rather than spend an average of five or six dollars a day on specialized coffees.”
“It must come in handy when you’re entertaining,” Cameron said, raising his voice slightly when Jasmine ground the beans in a grinder.
“It does,” she agreed. “I still keep in touch with several women from our high school and three times a year we have a girls’ night out. We’ll usually meet at a restaurant and sometimes I’ll host a dinner and sleepover. That’s when we eat too much, drink too much, and stay up half the night talking and laughing.”
“Where does everyone sleep?”
“I have a queen-sized bed in my bedroom, and the sofa converts to a full bed, and the loveseat to a twin.”
“Do they always come into the city?” Cameron asked her.
“Yes. They still live out east so coming into Manhattan is a change of scenery for them. I grew up with a lot of kids who never ventured off Long Island until they were adults. Once I graduated junior high I told my parents I didn’t want to spend my summers in North Carolina or the Philippines. That’s when Mom and I, if she didn’t work a weekend shift, would go to early mass, then take the railroad into the city where we’d have brunch. After that we visited museums and art galleries, or botanic gardens in different boroughs. It wasn’t until my junior year in high school that I realized I wanted to be a decorator.”
“What made you decide to go into human resource management?”
“I was thinking of expanding my business and that meant hiring and training employees, researching labor-relations, employee benefits, compensation and family-leave. So I went back to school while Raymond ran the business. A month before I graduated one of my professors told me about a position with a private investment bank looking to hire someone for their HR department. I called and emailed my resume and transcripts, believing they would never contact me for an interview. Not only did I have the interview but they also hired me. The salary and benefits package they offered was impressive, so I decided to accept the position, work there a couple of years, and get the experience I needed to grow my company. Two years became three and eventually six. Once Raymond and I were legally separated I sold the business and continued with Wakefield Hamilton until the merger.”
“It looks as if everything worked out for you in the end.”
Jasmine flashed a Cheshire cat grin. “Yes, it did.” She added water to the coffeemaker. “You can turn on the television while I finish making the coffee.”
Cameron slipped off the stool. “Is there anything in particular you want to see?”
“No. You can put on the ballgame if you want.”
He smiled. Now he knew for certain Jasmine was someone he could hang out with. “Yankees or Mets?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Cameron knew if he were to spend any appreciable time with Jasmine they would have a lot of fun. He would enjoy taking her to sporting events, concerts, and plays. But then he would have to compromise when accompanying her to museums, which he found as exciting as watching paint dry. He had a few clients who’d become art collectors with the hope that what they’d acquired would become invaluable. Cameron tended to caution, while not pressuring his clients, to invest conservatively and most of them followed his advice which increased their net worth.
Picking up the remote, he turned on the television, scrolled through the guide until he clicked on the Yankee game. Jasmine walked into the living with large cups of coffee topped with foaming milk. He took both cups from her, waiting until she sat, and then handed her one.
“I can really get used to this,” he said as he took the seat beside her.
Jasmine touched her cup to his, smiling. “I expect the same treatment when I come to New Orleans.”
Cameron winked at her. “I promise not to disappoint you.” He lost track of time as they sat together drinking coffee while watching the game. He draped an arm over Jasmine’s shoulders and let out an inaudible breath when she did not pull away.
Jasmine smothered a yawn. “Coffee at night always makes me sleepy, so forgive me if I fall asleep on you.”
Cameron kissed her hair. “There’s no need to apologize. After all, I fell asleep during the drive to Long Island.”
“That’s different. You’re my guest.”
“I thought I was your boyfriend. At least that’s what your aunt and uncle called me.”
Jasmine shifted slightly. “That’s because I didn’t tell them I was bringing a man with me and they just assumed we were a couple.”
Cameron stopped himself before asking her if they would ever become a couple—if she was someone with whom he could have a comfortable ongoing relationship. “I would probably assume the same,” he said instead. “It’s getting late and you need your sleep.” Cameron stood, gently easing Jasmine to stand. Standing in her bare feet, the top of her head barely reached his nose.
“What time are you picking up me tomorrow?”
