Chapter 23
CHAPTER 23
S ullivan nodded to Matthew and Julius, who inclined their heads respectfully. Roth didn’t give Jasmine a chance to say goodbye. He grabbed her hand and strode after Sullivan, who tapped certain guests on the shoulder. Several servers were doing the same.
They followed the select crowd out of the ballroom and down a short hallway. Roth took the opportunity to tuck her beneath his shoulder and press his lips to her ear. “Embarrass me by throwing yourself at another man like that again, I’ll beat the shit out of you.”
She went rigid. “They’re my friends.”
“Your friends just confirmed what I’ve always known to be true. They don’t want a platonic relationship with you. That means you don’t talk to them without me present, and if you want them to keep breathing, don’t you fucking touch them.”
“Roth!”
Mikhail beckoned from a huddle with two other men. She jerked away, knowing he wouldn’t ignore Mikhail and come after her. Her chest burned with fury as she strode past the dining room and continued toward the alcove at the end of the hall.
She hadn’t hugged Julius and Matthew to make him jealous. She was so relieved to see a familiar face that she’d reacted without thinking, and despite their intentions (which she still couldn’t wrap her mind around), she’d never seen them as anything but friends. Roth knew that. What the hell was wrong with him?
As she approached the alcove, her attention was on the massive family portrait on the wall. She failed to notice the small figure in a gold armchair until she was almost upon her. A girl in a red velvet dress sat cross-legged with her head bent over an open book on her lap. Jasmine stopped in her tracks, the sight so reminiscent of her own childhood she thought she was seeing things. When the girl turned the page, she let out a relieved breath.
She glanced over her shoulder at the crowd mingling in front of the dining room before turning back to the girl who had yet to acknowledge her presence. Either she was totally engrossed in her book or deliberately ignoring her. Remembering how terrified she’d been of saying the wrong thing at parties like this, her mouth quirked in a sad smile. Not much had changed.
“I saw you dance with Grandpa.”
The voice was so soft she thought she was hearing things. Then the girl lifted her head, enough for Jasmine to get a glimpse of those distinctive Trentham eyes, pale skin, and rosebud lips before her head ducked down again, hair falling forward to conceal her features.
“Don’t judge me too harshly,” she said with a grimace. “I haven’t danced in years.”
The girl turned another page in her book.
“Do you dance?”
No answer.
“What’s your name? I’m Jasmine.”
When she still didn’t get a response, she regarded the girl thoughtfully. Although Sullivan had mentioned his granddaughter, her age, name, and sex hadn’t come up in her Google search. The Trenthams were taking great care to keep her out of the spotlight. Maybe she’d been told not to speak to anyone.
Once more, she glanced over her shoulder. The crush in front of the door looked like a headache. She turned back to the girl.
“What are you reading?” By now, the silent treatment wasn’t a surprise, but it got her wheels turning. As someone who didn’t read books in genres as socially acceptable as thriller and mysteries, that question always got her back up. She considered the girl for a moment before using a card she’d never used in her life. “I’m an author.”
The girl’s head snapped up, blue eyes round and riveted. “You are?”
“Yes.”
The girl’s look of awe warmed her heart. She would have died to meet an author at her age.
“What do you write?”
“Romance and fantasy.” When the girl’s eyes lit up, she raised a brow. “Now, will you show me what you’re reading?”
There was only a slight hesitation before the girl flashed a familiar cover that tickled the back of her memory.
“ Uncharted Waters ,” she said gravely. “That’s a good one. First time reading it?”
The girl hesitated before shaking her head.
“Am I terrible for wanting Amir’s mother, the queen, to die for being an evil witch?”
The girl’s eyes flared in surprise before she let out a giggle. Though the delightful sound was drowned out by the adults in the distance, the girl clapped a hand over her mouth as if she was worried about being too loud.
“How old are you?”
“Twelve.”
Jasmine tried to remember how old she was when she picked up Uncharted Waters . If she remembered correctly, this book had jump-started her sexual awakening. Twelve seemed far too young, but she’d always read several levels above her age group, and it seemed the Trentham heir did as well. If the girl spent as much time reading as she had, she was probably at a high school reading level by now.
“Can I read your books?”
She focused on the girl, who had unfurled from her hunched position and was now sitting up, legs swinging, her lovely face animated and curious.
“You might be able to read my fantasy,” she drawled. “But first...”
“Yes?”
“What’s your name?”
The girl’s mouth curved before her gaze flicked beyond Jasmine and instantly went blank.
“Dahlia.”
Jasmine jolted and whirled to face the owner of that deep rumble. A man and a woman stood side by side. It took her a nanosecond to realize she was looking at Nathaniel Trentham, who was a mirror image of his father. They had the same unsettling deep blue eyes and unruly hair, but Nathaniel was clean-cut, several inches taller, and looked like his face would break if he smiled. The workaholic son, and the father of the girl she was talking to. The look he was giving her wasn’t exactly friendly. The woman at his side, a buxom strawberry-blond around her height, gave her an appraising look.
“Nathaniel Trentham,” he said, stepping forward and offering his hand.
She took it and blinked at the firm handshake, which was a far cry from his father’s gallant hand-kissing. Clearly, Nathaniel hadn’t inherited his father’s charm. “Jasmine Hen—” she began before correcting herself. “Roth.”
Nathaniel gave a curt nod, released her hand, and switched his attention to his daughter. “It’s Dahlia’s bedtime.”
She didn’t hear any movement behind her, but a second later, the girl passed her with her book hidden in the folds of her dress. Jasmine felt an odd kinship with Dahlia and wished she could give her a hug. Daughter of a workaholic father. No mother. What were the chances they’d discovered and latched onto Uncharted Waters around the same age?
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Dahlia,” she said.
The girl halted, glanced up at her father, and then looked back at her. “It was nice meeting you too, Jasmine.”
“Mrs. Roth,” Nathaniel corrected.
“No, Jasmine’s how I introduced myself and what I prefer to be called,” she said.
Nathaniel gave another curt nod and put his hand on Dahlia’s shoulder as he escorted her toward a waiting staff member. That left her with the curvy strawberry-blond dressed in a black gown with a dramatic slit and the largest emerald earrings she’d ever seen.
“I’m Charlotte Trentham.”
“Oh!” If it weren’t for her dark blue eyes, there wouldn’t have been a trace of Sullivan in her. “Your father told me you wanted to talk to me about something.”
“Yes.” Charlotte turned and indicated the empty hallway. “But first, you have to tell me how you got Dahlia to light up like that. I haven’t seen my niece smile in weeks.”
Realizing everyone, including Roth, had entered the dining room, sent a ripple of anxiety through her. “We were talking about books.”
“Yes?” Charlotte prompted.
“I read the same book when I was her age. I was able to talk to her about it a little.” She hesitated and then inwardly shrugged. “I also told her I’m an author.”
Charlotte paused, brows arching. “Well, aren’t you turning out to be a pleasant surprise? First, my father puts you on the spot by asking for the first dance. That was naughty of him, but you couldn’t have handled it better. And now this. No one mentioned you were a writer.”
She flicked her hand. “I write under a pen name. Fiction. It’s not something I normally share, but I thought it would get Dahlia’s attention and it did.”
There was a great deal of activity in Charlotte’s eyes. She had no idea what the other woman was thinking. Why the hell had she outed herself? And why were they standing here talking about it when everyone was already seated?
“Now it all makes sense,” Charlotte murmured.
“What does?”
“You chose quite a few charities that focus on literacy. Book distribution, training workshops on reading and writing, and that program that develops reading skills by pairing children with therapy animals and their owners. Of course, you donated to other causes, but I was curious about those in particular.”
Her mouth sagged. “How did you...?”
Charlotte gave her an apologetic smile. “I hope you don’t mind. Several of the charities you donated to are run by friends of mine. It’s a small community, and the ninety million you donated got everyone’s attention.”
Her heart stopped. “Ninety million? No—I donated thirty.”
Charlotte gave her a polite but puzzled smile. “My sources say it was nearly one hundred million.”
Had she accidentally donated a third of her inheritance? No, it couldn’t be. She’d decided exactly how much would go to each charity and counted every fucking zero ten times to make sure it was right. “I think there’s been a mistake. Maybe there was another donor who gave to those causes at the same time as me.”
“No mistake. Your donation came in and was followed by your husband’s two days later. He doubled your donation to every single charity.”
She shook her head, sure she hadn’t heard correctly. “My husband donated to...?” She was so astounded she couldn’t finish her sentence.
“You didn’t know?” Charlotte splayed her hand over her chest. “Was this a surprise and I spoiled it? Maybe he was going to tell you on Christmas. How romantic !”
Her mouth opened, but no words came out. She was flabbergasted. How the hell had he found out about her donations, and why had he doubled the amount? A tax break? Public solidarity? Recognition? Ten percent of her inheritance had been a massive commitment for her. So was the Rolls-Royce worth more than half a million dollars. But between the jewelry and these donations, he overshadowed her by such a large margin that her contribution became irrelevant. That wasn’t counting the tens of millions more he’d been dumping into Hennessy he took his time, making a spectacle of them. He taunted her with their chemistry to punish her. He withheld from her all week, shutting her out and treating her like a possession again instead of a person. He convinced her to give him another chance, only for them to end up here again. Threats, blackmail, and pain. They’d come full circle.
When he pulled away, she was numb. He turned back to Nathaniel while she mechanically ate what was in front of her. As soon as she finished, a tiny bowl of soup was placed in front of her. How many courses were there? She should be hungry, but she’d lost her appetite.
“Jasmine, have you met Althea and Harriet?” Charlotte asked.
“No, I haven’t had the pleasure,” she murmured and gave her attention to the women across the table as Charlotte made introductions.
Althea was a widow, and Harriet was the wife of a digital trading pioneer. Both women were a little older than Colette, and to her relief, they were friendly, intelligent, and informative. The stimulating conversation made dinner pass quickly. Each meal was tiny, so they could get through all twelve courses.
During a lull in conversation, her eyes traveled up to the ceiling mural. Were those cherubs attacking warships? Her mind wandered until Roth’s hand settled on her leg. He didn’t look at her as he did so. What had she done now? Was he upset she wasn’t doing her job of extracting every bit of information possible from her table companions? She was about to brush him off when she noticed Charlotte staring wistfully.
“My husband loved me like that,” Charlotte said in a subdued monotone. “We couldn’t get enough of each other. You think you have forever, and then...”
News of Charlotte’s husband’s untimely death had also made the headlines. “I’m sorry.”
Charlotte didn’t take her eyes from Roth’s proprietary hand. “I grew up hearing our family was cursed. I didn’t believe it until I lost my husband in a freak boating accident. What are the odds? Then we lost my mom, Lily, and Nathan’s wife.” Charlotte took a deep breath. “I wasn’t sure I was going to make it through, but there was Dahlia, and Nathan couldn’t, so I...” Charlotte’s shoulders drooped slightly. “I’m trying to be there for her, but she’s so shut down. She barely speaks. All she does is read. I don’t know what to do.”
Jasmine hesitated before reaching out and lightly touching Charlotte’s arm to shake her out of her self-reflection. “This is just my opinion, but I think Dahlia’s doing better than you think.”
Charlotte’s brows came together. “What makes you think so?”
“She’s reading romance.” When Charlotte gave her a blank look, she felt her cheeks heat a little before she elaborated. “You don’t read romance or fantasy when you’re depressed. You read horror, dark fantasy, dystopian, postapocalyptic, things like that. It’s like listening to rap, punk, or rock when you want to rage. Reaching for a romantic adventure with a charming hero in a fantastical world where good always prevails is the best escape there is. I’d say she’s coping in a normal and healthy way. It’s what I did, and I turned out okay.” When Charlotte stared at her, she tacked on, “Well, okay- ish .”
Charlotte threw her head back and laughed uproariously, just like her father. Heads at their table and the next turned to see what was going on. If she’d known Charlotte better, she would have elbowed her in the side, so she’d stop drawing attention to them. She ground her teeth when Roth’s hand slid to her knee and squeezed.
“Dad was right about you,” Charlotte chortled. “You’re definitely an original. I hope you’re right about Dahlia. I could use some good news.” Charlotte straightened and became all business. “The reason I brought up your donation is that I was hoping you’d be interested in helping me at the Trentham Foundation. We have a ton of events throughout the year. You could meet the heads of other organizations so you’re on a one-on-one basis with them and see firsthand what a difference your money is making in the world.”
She had expected an invitation like this at some point, but not from Charlotte Trentham. She couldn’t deny she was curious about getting a behind-the-scenes look at one of the largest foundations in the country. If her investments paid off and she was able to donate more in the future or start a foundation of her own, what she learned from Charlotte was invaluable... Also, through Charlotte, she could secure an invite to any event and get all the insider information Roth could want. That would ensure he got his money’s worth out of her. It was a win-win.
“Yes, I’d love that,” she said.
Charlotte’s eyes lit up. “Excellent.”
Nathaniel rose. As if that were the cue everyone had been waiting for, they got to their feet and began to file out of the dining room. Servers immediately began to clear tables for the next round of guests to eat.
When Roth climbed to his feet, she stayed seated. He cupped her chin, forcing her face up. She kept her gaze lowered as she accepted his kiss.
“I have to step out for a minute.” He focused on Charlotte, who was unabashedly watching their interaction. “Will you watch my wife?”
“I don’t need a keeper,” she snapped.
“Yes, you do.” He looked up when Nathaniel called his name and nodded before he looked back at her. “I shouldn’t be gone long. Stay out of trouble.”
With that, he strode toward the door, where Nathaniel, Mikhail, and three other men waited for him.
“Dad was right about you two,” Charlotte said, linking arms with Jasmine as they made their way out of the empty dining room.
“What did he say?” she asked a tad more sharply than she should have, but Charlotte didn’t seem to notice.
“He told me and Nathan we’d get along well with both of you. My dad has a sixth sense when it comes to people. My grandfather had it too. Apparently, it’s skipped our generation.”
As they exited the hallway and made their way back to the ballroom, Charlotte acknowledged those they passed with a nod, or by lightly touching their arm, but she didn’t stop to engage anyone in conversation. When they entered the ballroom, Charlotte paused on the threshold.
“Is there anyone you’d like to be introduced to?”
Knowing what a boon that would be, Jasmine drew in a breath, but her mind was blank. “Um...”
The choice was taken from her when a former President of the United States approached. He and Charlotte were on a first-name basis. She wasn’t sure whether she should excuse herself or...
“Have you met Jasmine Roth?” Charlotte asked.
“I haven’t.” He switched his attention to her and offered his hand. “I saw you dance with Sullivan. Are you up for another turn on the floor?” When she paled, he grinned. “It’s just as well. I think my wife would be jealous.”
“So would her husband,” Charlotte said in a conspiratorial whisper.
“Ah, I see. From what I’ve heard, I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side.”
Her smile turned a little wonky at hearing that, but it went unnoticed as he and Charlotte continued their conversation. When the President took his leave, he kissed her hand as Sullivan had.
Like Roth, Charlotte didn’t have to circulate. The crowd revolved around her. As one person after the next stepped forward, Charlotte effortlessly wove Jasmine into each interaction. Fifteen minutes at Charlotte’s side was more illuminating and instructive than if she’d gone to every party this year.
While Nathaniel handled the business and financial side, it seemed Charlotte handled the social and political sphere, and she was damn good at it. Royals, prime ministers, and other dignitaries came forward to pay their respects. So did members of ancient bloodlines she thought were legend.
She’d always admired her sisters in social and business settings, but Charlotte Trentham was next-level. She had a pleasant expression on her face, but it wasn’t quite a smile. She didn’t hesitate to put anyone, male or female, in their place. Watching Charlotte manage her guests was a master class in etiquette, the art of small talk, and networking.
She lost track of the number of people who requested to meet Roth. She tried to remember their names and faces so she could point him in their direction once he returned to the ballroom. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to meet these world powers. Thus far, he’d focused on business, but the political arena was just as important.
Several men who had been associated with her father came forward to speak with Charlotte. They ignored her, but Charlotte didn’t let them get away with it. She was positively gleeful when Charlotte introduced her, as if they hadn’t known her from the cradle. Although she could see it galled them to treat her with respect, Charlotte’s presence demanded it.
But just as it had with Colette, the lesson came to a halt far too soon.
“I’m sorry to leave you, but I have something to see to,” Charlotte said and squeezed her hand. “I’ll be in touch.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” she said honestly, and Charlotte smiled.
Charlotte left her with a former prime minster of Portugal and his wife. When they lingered, she seized the opportunity to gush about their country and blinked when she received an invitation to stay at their villa the next time she was in Lisbon.
“It was lovely meeting you. When my husband returns to the ballroom, I’ll introduce you,” she said.
“Please do.”
When they parted ways, she accepted a glass from a server. Since they were more than halfway through the night, she felt she deserved a celebratory drink. Thanks to Charlotte, she could rattle off sixteen names off the top of her head that would have made her father green with envy. If Roth needed anything politically in a dozen countries, she now had a name and, in some cases, even a phone number, since she’d been given quite a few business cards.
Confidence restored, she sipped champagne and searched for Roth, Colette, Lyle, or any familiar face she could pass the time with. An hour or so from now, she’d be home, sinking into a bubble bath. She just had to get through the last of the festivities without making a scene.
“You have a lot of nerve showing your face here.”
Her eyes fluttered shut. Damn. It was too much to hope for, thinking she could get through the night without facing her past. She turned to face Tucker Baldwin, who under other circumstances would have been her brother-in-law.
“Hello to you too.”