Wan Gai - okay, so just a standard green curry but I'd gotten takeout from this nearby Thai place before and it was amazing.
So when my cell rang as I was halfway through my food, I ignored it. But it buzzed again and again, so I was already annoyed when I finally picked up on the third attempt.
The number had been withheld but it turned out to be my mom.
"Jasmine, oh my God, Jasmine! I've been trying to get through to you!"
"I know," I said through gritted teeth. The last time we'd spoken, she'd been telling me that my younger sister Angie needed me.
She needed a reality check, is all.
And this was about Angie, too. "Do you wanna see her lose the house? I've given her all the money I can spare, but it's real bad. Brian is working every hour under the sun but it is not enough. You gotta help. She's your own flesh and blood, Jasmine."
"She made her bed, mom."
"Christian charity!" she exploded, as if she were a regular church-goer, which she definitely was not. "I don't understand why you can't show a single scrap of decency."
"Maybe because she never showed me any, back when she stole my identity and about twenty thousand dollars from me, mom."
There was a shocked silence on the other end of the line. I'd never told my mom all the details about this before. In truth, I loved my mom dearly and admired her. She'd worked so damn hard after she left my dad, and raised me and Angie all alone, cast out by her family and her community. Things were tough, back then. Still were, I guess.
"Are you still there, mom?"
"Jasmine. I'm sorry, I just don't know why you have to say these things."
"Mom?"
Her voice was all gnarled up and thick, like she was trying not to cry. "I don't know where I went wrong with you, I really don't."
And then she hung up on me.
* * * *
One of the things that Andrew's father, the kidnapping jerk Leonard Walker-Wilkinson, had tried to scare me with was about my sister. He'd known she was in financial trouble. It was kinda funny that he knew more than my own mother did.
Funny, in a totally I'm-not-laughing way.
I did a little more work. It was gone eight at night, but what else was I going to do with my time? Work meant I didn't have to think about other things. Work was real life; the rest was distraction.
And then I got distracted again by a knock at the door to my apartment.
I froze. Leonard's henchmen had burst into my place and taken me hostage not three days ago. The police hadn't been interested because Leonard was way up high in parliament and all sorts of fucking feudal bullshit, and I was just some dumb American woman getting into trouble, aha ha ha.
The knock at the door sent my blood pressure through the roof as I remembered how those men had bundled me into a van and drove me away. I grabbed my cell and backed toward the kitchen, heading for the knives.
When the cellphone in my hand started up I damn near had a heart attack and dropped the fucker, and that was a double heart attack when I finally got a hold of it again and saw who the caller was.
I answered it. My throat had nearly sealed itself shut with fear and now surprise. "Hi, uh, Andrew."
"Jas, will you answer your door?"
His tone was polite but exasperated. Of course, he could hear the ringing of my phone and he knew I was home. "Sure. Gimme a sec," I said, and took a moment to compose myself.
I decided the best defense was pure attack. I swung the door open and tried not to look at him as I said, "Be quick. I'm working."
He raised one eyebrow. He was wearing a black suit and a crisp white shirt; totally plain, totally unremarkable. Except that the way he wore it screamed "sex" and it wasn't just because I knew what lay under that sober fabric. He was a dedicated triathlete with a chiseled body and somehow that conveyed itself even when he was fully clothed. With his hair just half an inch longer than the usual corporate tidiness, and dark blue eyes that were fixed on my face, he made me want him - just by
So when my cell rang as I was halfway through my food, I ignored it. But it buzzed again and again, so I was already annoyed when I finally picked up on the third attempt.
The number had been withheld but it turned out to be my mom.
"Jasmine, oh my God, Jasmine! I've been trying to get through to you!"
"I know," I said through gritted teeth. The last time we'd spoken, she'd been telling me that my younger sister Angie needed me.
She needed a reality check, is all.
And this was about Angie, too. "Do you wanna see her lose the house? I've given her all the money I can spare, but it's real bad. Brian is working every hour under the sun but it is not enough. You gotta help. She's your own flesh and blood, Jasmine."
"She made her bed, mom."
"Christian charity!" she exploded, as if she were a regular church-goer, which she definitely was not. "I don't understand why you can't show a single scrap of decency."
"Maybe because she never showed me any, back when she stole my identity and about twenty thousand dollars from me, mom."
There was a shocked silence on the other end of the line. I'd never told my mom all the details about this before. In truth, I loved my mom dearly and admired her. She'd worked so damn hard after she left my dad, and raised me and Angie all alone, cast out by her family and her community. Things were tough, back then. Still were, I guess.
"Are you still there, mom?"
"Jasmine. I'm sorry, I just don't know why you have to say these things."
"Mom?"
Her voice was all gnarled up and thick, like she was trying not to cry. "I don't know where I went wrong with you, I really don't."
And then she hung up on me.
* * * *
One of the things that Andrew's father, the kidnapping jerk Leonard Walker-Wilkinson, had tried to scare me with was about my sister. He'd known she was in financial trouble. It was kinda funny that he knew more than my own mother did.
Funny, in a totally I'm-not-laughing way.
I did a little more work. It was gone eight at night, but what else was I going to do with my time? Work meant I didn't have to think about other things. Work was real life; the rest was distraction.
And then I got distracted again by a knock at the door to my apartment.
I froze. Leonard's henchmen had burst into my place and taken me hostage not three days ago. The police hadn't been interested because Leonard was way up high in parliament and all sorts of fucking feudal bullshit, and I was just some dumb American woman getting into trouble, aha ha ha.
The knock at the door sent my blood pressure through the roof as I remembered how those men had bundled me into a van and drove me away. I grabbed my cell and backed toward the kitchen, heading for the knives.
When the cellphone in my hand started up I damn near had a heart attack and dropped the fucker, and that was a double heart attack when I finally got a hold of it again and saw who the caller was.
I answered it. My throat had nearly sealed itself shut with fear and now surprise. "Hi, uh, Andrew."
"Jas, will you answer your door?"
His tone was polite but exasperated. Of course, he could hear the ringing of my phone and he knew I was home. "Sure. Gimme a sec," I said, and took a moment to compose myself.
I decided the best defense was pure attack. I swung the door open and tried not to look at him as I said, "Be quick. I'm working."
He raised one eyebrow. He was wearing a black suit and a crisp white shirt; totally plain, totally unremarkable. Except that the way he wore it screamed "sex" and it wasn't just because I knew what lay under that sober fabric. He was a dedicated triathlete with a chiseled body and somehow that conveyed itself even when he was fully clothed. With his hair just half an inch longer than the usual corporate tidiness, and dark blue eyes that were fixed on my face, he made me want him - just by
Similar Books
