20. Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty
Brody
Tasha refuses to pick up her damn phone, and I’ve had enough.
The waiting, the wondering, it’s driving me insane.
I stare at my packed schedule for the next week, meetings, site visits, contract negotiations. All of it seems irrelevant right now.
I completely clear my calendar with a few swift taps, delegating the rest to Josh.
It’s time to take matters into my own hands.
I keep replaying that conversation with Josh at the bar, the careless way I spoke about Tasha, like she was some complication I had to manage.
What if she had overheard that?
My chest tightens with regret.
How could I have been so stupid?
If she heard any part of that conversation, no wonder she ran.
I grab my phone, my fingers flying as I book the best suite I can find on The Strip. It’s the Presidential Suite. It offers luxury, privacy, everything to make this right. My ticket for the next flight to Vegas is booked in a heartbeat.
I don’t even bother packing a bag.
All I need is to find her, talk to her, make her understand.
Tasha needs to know that I’m not letting her go. Not like this.
The drive to O’Hare is a quick blur. My mind races faster than the car slipping through traffic.
I shoot off a quick message to Dana, asking her to take care of Penny and the cattle while I’m gone. I pull into the airport’s secure parking garage, parking the car and rushing toward the terminal.
I just make it through security and boarding with seconds to spare, collapsing into my seat, my heart still pounding from the sprint.
As the plane takes off, I pull out my phone and start scrolling through social media, searching for Jasmine’s profile – Jazzmyn is her handle.
Her posts are a mix of bright lights, skimpy costumes, and behind-the-scenes shots of life as a dancer in Vegas and the realization sinks in: this is where Tasha is hiding.
Jasmine’s profile is filled with tags and check-ins at nightclubs and bars that dot the strip. I can picture Tasha, working behind the bar or serving drinks, trying to blend into the shadows of this city.
My gut churns. I’ve got to find her.
Vegas is a big place, but if Jasmine’s working in one of these clubs, Tasha can’t be too far away. The flight is just over two hours, but it feels like an eternity sitting there stewing and as soon as we touch down, I’m the first one off the plane.
I make a beeline to the car rental counter where they’ve got a luxury sports car already waiting for me. The engine growls to life as I pull out of the airport garage, the thrill of horsepower beneath my hands a small comfort to the turmoil in my chest.
Vegas unfolds before me like a glittering illusion, the skyline a mix of neon signs and gaudy billboards.
The Strip is chaos, crowded with tourists, flashing lights, and traffic jams.
But none of that matters to me. I just need to find Tasha.
Revving the engine, I weave through traffic, my eyes darting between the road and the map on my phone. Everywhere I look, there’s temptation: casinos, clubs, strip joints.
I can’t help but wonder if this is the kind of life Tasha’s thrown herself into, trying to make a fresh start, and I tighten my grip on the wheel, determination hardening into steel.
She won’t slip away from me again.
I stop at club after club, searching for any sign of Jasmine, but every place I walk into is a dead end. Each time, the bouncers shake their heads or give me blank stares, and I’m starting to wonder if this is all a fool’s errand, when I finally reach a dingy little club on Fremont Street.
I stride up to the bouncer, showing him Jasmine’s social media profile. He squints at the picture but shakes his head and waves his hand. “You got any idea how many Jasmines work in this town?”
Frustration bubbles up, but I manage to keep my cool, gritting my teeth. “I’m looking for this Jasmine. Goes by Jazzmyn on social media.”
The bouncer’s eyes flicker with recognition. “Yeah, actually, I do know her. She dances at The Oasis Club.”
Relief and dread swirl together in my gut. I’ve finally got a lead. “The Oasis Club,” I repeat, trying to sound casual even as my heart pounds in my chest.
“Yeah,” he confirms, pointing down the street. “It’s not too far from here. It’s one of the nicer places, if you can get past the line.”
I thank him and turn back to the car, adrenaline pumping. I’m close now. Tasha is somewhere in this city, and I’m not leaving until I bring her back.
I check into my hotel suite, and it’s like walking into a palace. The room is breathtaking, opulent yet refined.
Floor-to-ceiling windows wrap around the space, offering a stunning 360-degree view of the city below as Vegas sprawls out beneath me, a sea of lights glittering against the darkening afternoon sky.
The suite itself is a masterpiece of luxury. Polished Italian leather couches curve elegantly around a low marble coffee table, their deep, rich scent filling the air. The walls are adorned with intricate frescoes, and towering marble pillars frame the entryway to the bedroom.
In the center of the room, a grand chandelier casts a soft, golden glow, making everything look as if it’s bathed in sunlight.
I wander into the bathroom, where a claw-foot tub sits by a window overlooking the city. The tiles are a mosaic of blues and golds, reflecting the lights of Vegas in a kaleidoscope of color and splendor.
I run a hand over the cool marble counter, trying to steady myself for a moment.
It’s only four in the afternoon, but I feel like the night can’t come fast enough.
I’ve got hours to kill before the dancers and bartenders emerge for their shifts, and every second feels like an eternity. I sit down on the leather couch, my thoughts racing.
I’ll find Tasha, no matter what it takes. She’s scared, she’s hurt, but I won’t let that be the end of our story.
I’ve made mistakes, but I’m not about to let her slip through my fingers without a fight.
Turning the plan over in my mind, I’m fine-tuning it like one of my construction projects. The club is my entry point.
If Tasha’s not there, Jasmine will be. She won’t get away without telling me where Tasha is hiding.
I’ll talk to Tasha, convince her that running away isn’t the answer. I need to make her see that we can face this together, that she doesn’t have to do it alone.
The years I raised Josh by myself, the sleepless nights, and all the sacrifices flicker through my mind.
I did it all without a second thought, but it was lonely, so damn lonely. I won’t let history repeat itself.
The thought of losing Tasha, of never knowing the child she’s carrying, twists my stomach into knots.
I can’t let that happen. This isn’t just about me anymore.
It’s about her, about our family.
I have to show her that I’m all in, that I can’t imagine a future without her in it.
Reaching into my pocket, my fingers closing around the small velvet box. I flip it open, revealing the ring inside.
It’s simple yet elegant: a solitaire diamond, classic and timeless. As I stare at it, a smile tugs at the corner of my lips.
Maybe this is rash, maybe it’s crazy, but I can’t think of any other way to show her just how serious I am. This ring is more than just a gesture. It’s a promise.
A promise that I’ll be there, no matter how messy things get, no matter how scared we both are. I’m not just here for the baby—I’m here for her. For us.
The ring glitters under the chandelier’s soft light, the facets catching the glow and reflecting it back in a thousand little sparks. I never thought I’d be here, ready to propose to someone again.
But with Tasha, it’s different. She’s different. She’s not just some woman I got involved with by accident. She’s everything I never knew I needed.
I close the box and slip it back into my pocket, a surge of determination filling me.
Tonight, I’m going to find my Tasha.
I’m going to tell her that I love her, that I want her by my side, not just as the mother of my child, but as my partner.