Chapter 44
COLE
While on the way to LA, we’ve made a couple of stops.
The first was to watch for gray whales, which Yasmine claimed swam nearby, and sure enough, we saw two within five minutes of stopping.
As she had never seen one before, she squealed with excitement and chose to experience the moment rather than take photos or videos.
I love this about her. Despite being a tech enthusiast, she prefers to enjoy life and see things firsthand rather than through a camera lens.
Our second stop was simply because she desperately needed to pee. Fortunately, we’re not in a hurry to reach her father’s house tonight and Yasmine created an amazing playlist that made the drive fly by today.
Now, on our third stop of the day—because Yasmine’s stomach was grumbling so loudly I’m surprised she didn’t wake the dead—we stopped at a diner along the coastline that, according to the reviews, serves the best pancakes, bacon, and maple syrup.
They weren’t wrong. Yasmine hasn’t just eaten her own plateful, but half of mine too, since I couldn’t finish it because the plate was big enough to feed an army.
She’s had me worried for weeks because she’s been dealing with a strange stomach flu that’s caused her appetite to be inconsistent.
But today, she seems to have regained her appetite, and her cheeks have reclaimed their color.
I might cancel that doctor’s appointment I made for her for next week, but we’ll see how she is over the weekend.
To be honest, I’m actually looking forward to this weekend because Yasmine’s new stepmother sounds like a demanding nightmare, and I can’t wait to meet her, the larger-than-life woman in the flesh.
The whole wedding sounds like a circus. I mean, who in their right mind wants ice sculptures at a garden wedding under a blazing LA sun?
She sounds like a proper princess, and if she’s not careful, she’ll drive Yasmine’s father into an early grave.
Although maybe that’s her plan. I might just ask Yasmine’s father when we get a quiet moment if he’s thought about his estate planning.
I’m assuming he has, but you just never know.
“I need to show you what I did last night,” Yasmine says, licking the last of the sticky maple off her fingers, then grabs a napkin to dry them before pulling her laptop out of her workbag that she never seems to be without. It’s like an extension of herself.
“I know what you did last night.” I wink across at her. She sent me video proof of exactly what she was doing with her vibrator while calling my name because she said she couldn’t wait to see me today.
She’s been hornier than usual. Although she has a high sex drive like mine, she’s insatiable, and she even proposed we have sex in the restrooms while we’re here.
I’m sure she was joking because she knows that’s not my thing, or hers, but then again, she sounded deadly serious.
“My bathroom offer is still on the table.” She winks at me, confirming she wasn’t joking earlier, as she opens her laptop and places it in the center of the table to face us both.
Fucking minx. I’m so tempted. But nope. Germs. Fuck that.
Yasmine does some fast typing on her keyboard, entering numbers and characters that don’t make any sense to me, causing a new screen to pop up. “Give me just two seconds.” With one more click, she makes her phone screen appear on her laptop screen. “I finished the Hart Law app last night.”
Does she ever sleep?
It’s no wonder she’s been sick; she never stops.
I’ve told her multiple times that she needs more staff to handle the Wildcard app.
Or quit her job because burning the candle at both ends isn’t healthy. If she doesn’t act soon, because the Wildcard app is doing so well, then she’ll burn out before the year is through.
I thought my brothers and I were workaholics, but Yasmine never pauses.
She’s not only driven but also inspiring and unstoppable when she sets her mind to something.
For the next half hour, I watch on in awe as she explains the bugs she’s fixed on the Hart Law app, how she’s improved the design and navigation, and then surprises me with a new development we hadn’t discussed before: a dedicated client portal for all existing clients to upload documents and queries, to save time on unnecessary phone calls.
“You did all of this last night?” I ask, astonished.
“Well, I had the idea weeks ago and went ahead to see if I could make it work, which I did. I only completed it last night,” she says, nonchalantly. “It was easier than I thought it would be.”
I could never do her job. She’s the smartest woman I know.
Yasmine sits back in her seat in the booth and asks while looking at the screen, “Do you like it?”
“It’s perfect.” Better than perfect, and she over-delivered. My brothers will be over the moon because it will make not only their lives easier, but it will also streamline some of our most difficult admin processes.
“Have you ever thought about developing your own app?” I ask, screwing with her a little.
“It’s crossed my mind a few times,” she counters, toying with me, mischief sparkling in her eyes.
While her mood is buoyant and she’s feeling better than she has in days, I tell her what I have been desperate to say. “I’m having dinner with Douglas Zenon next week to discuss his estate planning.”
Stiller than a statue, as if frozen in time, Yasmine stares at me with rounded eyes.
I lift my mug to my lips and finish the last of my coffee, allowing that to sink in. “Oh, and you’re coming with me as he’s bringing his wife.”
Yasmine inhales a sharp breath, closing her mouth then opening it again, completely stunned. It’s as if her brain is glitching out and she’s unable to form words.
I suggest, “Maybe you could mention your app to him. See what he thinks, and perhaps he might be interested in investing or know someone else who would be.”
Thinking, she narrows her eyes to slits and finally asks, “Did you call him?”
“No.” I hold my hands up in surrender. It’s the truth. “His secretary called asking if we could go out for dinner.” It was a pure fluke.
I’d never heard of Douglas until Yasmine brought him up during dinner on our first date.
“Things always have a funny way of working out. Stars align, and everything falls into place when you least expect it.” Just like how Yasmine and I met on that flight; we were supposed to sit together that day.
Yasmine motions to the space between us. “You and I are having dinner with the biggest investor in tech since time began, along with his wife, next week?” She sounds like she’s freaking out.
“Yes.” I knew that would knock her socks off.
She covers her hand over her mouth to hide her smile, excitement radiating from her; I can almost see the sparks of joy shining out of her.
“You know,” she starts, then stops, as if she can’t get her mouth to work as fast as her brain. “This…” She tries again, until she finally manages to say, “Oh my God, Cole. This could be the biggest thing to ever happen to me.”
And me. I verified Douglas’s credentials, and he’s not just amongst the wealthiest men in the world—he’s actually the richest. I nearly had a panic attack when my secretary told me he wanted to have dinner with me. I didn’t want to raise Yasmine’s hopes until the date and time were confirmed.
“This is incredible, Cole.” She switches from excited to panic mode at the flick of a switch.
“What will I wear? I’ll need to buy something new.
What restaurant are we going to? I need to find out what his wife does, her name, and the charities she supports…
How will I shoehorn my app into the conversation? Will you do that, or will I?”
“Baby.” I push my hand across the table and do a gimmie gesture, inviting her to take my hand, which she does, sliding her fingers into mine. “Breathe.”
Exhaling loudly, she lets out a breath, then inhales a deep breath of oxygen into her lungs, letting it out again. “Okay,” she whispers, her shoulders dropping in relaxation.
“Let me handle everything. It’s just dinner.” I try to talk her off the ledge she’s placed herself on and about to fall off of.
Her expression grows serious as she throws me a look that might kill. “It’s not just dinner, Cole, it’s my big chance to get in front of the guy who is the biggest tech titan and who has revolutionized the tech world. This could be my only chance.”
It won’t be. If he becomes a client, we’ll see him regularly. Men like Douglas stay in touch with their estate-planning lawyer to stay on top of their personal affairs. For me, it will be a full-time job in the beginning if he hires me.
I tell her what she needs to hear. “Why don’t we go dress shopping early next week?” It’ll be my treat. “And we can discuss it then.” I want her to relax. “Just focus on the wedding this weekend.”
Shaking out her shoulders, she agrees. “Okay.” Although I can tell she’s already making a list in her head of questions to ask him and his wife. I can practically hear the cogs turning in her big, beautiful brain.
“You’re cute when you’re stressed.” I like every shade of her: sassy, cuddly, stressed, annoyed, loving, fearless. And even when she’s kicking my ass at Call of Duty, I find her attractive. It’s fucking ridiculous how good she is at computer games.
“Cute?” She regards me with amusement.
“As well as beautiful, sexy, funny, plucky, bold, smart.” I could go on and on and on.
She gives my fingers a squeeze. “You’re saying all the right things; you might just get lucky tonight.”
“I love you.” I fully express what I’ve wanted to say for a while, because I’ve been feeling it for weeks, maybe since the first time I met her.
It’s the least romantic setting, but it just sort of felt like the right moment to say it. There is no way I can keep it to myself any longer.
“You love me?” she murmurs, half laughing, her eyes looking glassy.
“I love you, Yasmine.” How else can you tell someone that they have your whole fucking heart? “I know we haven’t been dating for long, and how we met was…”
“Different.” Her mouth quirks with humor.
It was completely unorthodox. “But I know how I feel about you. I fell for you the moment you stepped onto that flight from LA to San Francisco. Fell even harder when you kissed me. Dropped into an abyss when you showed up at the Hart Law staff conference, and I’ve been falling infinitely for you again and again, and that will never change. ”
“You have a special way with words,” she says, surprising me, as that was not what I was expecting her to say.
“As a lawyer, language is one of my most powerful tools.”
She lets out a rich and warm laugh, then disagrees with me. “I think your love language is stronger. The things you do for me and how you take care of my mom and me are amazing. You’re amazing, Cole.”
“I’m just being me.” It’s the truth.
“Can I tell you something?” she asks, looking nervous.
“Anything.” I lean forward and take both of her hands in mine.
Clearing her throat, she gulps loudly then says, “You scared me at first.”
“Scared you?” What the hell? “It’s the tattoos, isn’t it?” I look down at my fully inked arms.
“Never.” She lets go of my hand and reaches over the table to cup my face. “I love your tattoos.”
I believe her; she mentions them a lot, saying she thinks they’re sexy.
Brushing her thumb across my jaw, she says words that make my heart feel like it’s about to break free from my chest. “You scared me in the beginning because I felt things I never had before. You were almost too good to be true. Like something out of a dream or a book, and honestly, I never believed that guys like you existed. Your family are good people. I love everything about you, Cole.”
She loves everything about me.
Then she says words that make me feel as if I am about ten feet tall. “I love you. I think I fell for you, too, the moment I kissed you.”
“You love me?” I ask eagerly, needing the confirmation.
“I do, Cole.” Her cheeks flush pink, which does something to my insides, making them melt into a puddle of liquid gold.
“I have something else to tell you—” Her cell phone breaks our moment, ringing both on her laptop and phone, both screaming for her attention.
“Shoot, it’s my dad. I need to take this. ”
“Of course.”
Yasmine answers the call, “Hey, Dad.” She then gestures toward the window, mouthing that she’s taking it outside.
Once she’s outside the diner, I watch her laughing, looking happier than ever, waving at me through the window, talking with her dad, dressed in yet another of my band T-shirts that she seems obsessed with, often wearing them as dresses paired with black cycling shorts.
She even bought new black Dr. Martens boots to match, indicating how much she likes them.
Damn, she’s perfect. And I get to spend the next two full days with her.
No work. Just us.
Even if Yasmine isn’t that keen on her father’s new wife, whom she hasn’t met yet, we’ll have fun regardless.
I found my person.
We found each other.
There isn’t a single damn thing that could ruin this weekend.