Chapter 2
JASMINE
My father was a great many things to a great many people, but one thing he was absolutely not was subtle, especially with his family. He could do the boardroom dance with the finesse of a prima ballerina even while attending a perfume launch, but with us, he often had the tact of a rusty teaspoon.
“This is the kind of man you should marry,” he said, tapping his finger over the face gracing the cover of the boring magazine he’d spent the last hour of our flight poring over. “He’s intelligent, ambitious, and standing right on the cusp of professional stardom.”
I barely even glanced at the magazine before I felt my face pull into a grotesque mask of disgust. “That’s Isaac, Daddy. He’s Deja’s brother-in-law.”
“I’m well aware.”
“He’s family.”
“Of your sister’s,” he said firmly. “Don’t act like you share blood just because his brother married into our family.”
“Fine.” I leaned back in my chair, willing the pilot to land the damn plane faster. “He’s also the same guy who refused to help with my bags at the airport when I came to visit last winter.”
“He took them from you eventually.”
I rolled my eyes. “That was only so he, and I quote, ‘wouldn’t freeze to death’ while waiting for me to do it. Oh, and he was afraid I’d scratch his new pickup truck if I tried to load them in.”
“That’s a valid concern, darling,” Dad said with the corners of his lips twitching into a smile. “Anyone who knows the value of things would agree.”
“I know the value of things.” I scoffed and folded my arms, glancing out the window to see Chicago finally rise up from below.
Thank God, we’ll be on the ground soon. I can do this. I can survive without having to jump out of the jet.
After Deja and Colin got together, I had spent a few months in Chicago before my parents insisted I come home. Egypt was great but I loved the energy in the States. As soon as I heard my father was heading to Chicago again, I jumped at the chance to tag along.
Dad gave me an indulgent smile. “You know the value of some things, but you’ve never had to save up to buy your own car.”
“He told me no one in their right mind would ever marry me,” I retorted. “Apparently, I’m too much of a handful.”
“I’m sure he was joking.”
“Yeah, well, it wasn’t funny. I don’t appreciate being teased.”
“That’s because you appreciate getting your own way so much and Isaac didn’t let you get away with it.” My father smiled before looking back at the magazine.
Unfortunately, I looked too. It was instinct, but that didn’t mean my eyes didn’t linger once they landed on his face. In my defense, however, it was an objectively good face.
I bet the magazine photographer didn’t even have to do anything to make him look that good. The guy probably just pointed his camera and snapped the picture and is now being lauded as a complete genius.
The thought almost made me roll my eyes again, but I resisted, just in case my father noticed and realized I was thinking about Isaac. That wouldn’t do. Especially if he’d now moved on from the match he’d been considering for me before and put Isaac in that idiot’s place.
Still, as Dad lifted the magazine with the cover very much within my line of sight, I stole another glance at Isaac’s face.
At thirty years old, he looked just mature enough to make him seem authoritative, those bright blue eyes looking out at me with that knowing gleam in them he always seemed to get when I was in the same room.
Paired with striking cheekbones and broad shoulders, those eyes really were just the cherry on top of a very delicious cake. Urg, so annoying.
Almost as annoying as the man himself. Despite there only being a three-year age difference between us, Isaac had this habit of speaking to me like I was a kid cousin who often licked batteries just to see what happened.
He was forever acting like he was so much older, wiser, and smarter. It didn’t help that I kept staring at that infuriating face until Dad finally snapped the magazine shut when our wheels gently touched the ground.
“Isaac is building an excellent reputation for himself, Jasmine,” he said as we zoomed across the runway before finally starting to slow down. “That’s something to seriously consider.”
“My dentist is building an excellent reputation for himself too,” I retorted, unbuckling my seatbelt with a loud click when we rolled to stop. “That doesn’t mean I should marry him.”
“Your dentist is a happily married forty-five-year-old with six children,” Dad said, smiling as he stood up. “I don’t think he’s in the running for you, sweetheart.”
“No one is in the running for me,” I said firmly, but it was like talking to a brick wall.
Dad knew I wasn’t interested in an arranged marriage. What I wanted was a love match. So far, I had been managing to make my parents see reason before any hands had been shaken, but it was like Dad just didn’t understand that I wasn’t simply going to change my mind.
He kept shoving options at me, talking like it was a foregone conclusion one of them would stick. Frustration twisted my gut into a dozen little knots, but Dad just grabbed his stupid magazine and strode off the plane like the argument had already been won.
I huffed out a breath before finally following after him, not saying another word.
We crossed the tarmac in the bright Chicago sunshine together, both of us sliding into the backseat of a waiting SUV once we reached it.
Thankfully, he quickly busied himself catching up with our regular driver in Illinois while ground staff loaded our luggage into the car behind us.
Since I had some catching up of my own to do—and plans to make for tonight—I slid my phone out of my purse and texted Nicole, my best American friend, a fellow heiress, model, influencer, and passport-stamp collector.
We were like the same people, just based on different continents.
I adored her and we had become fast friends when I’d visited here for a few months.
Me: I’M BACK!
Nicole: FINALLY! I’ve been waiting hours. What took you so long?
Nicole: We’re going out tonight. New club opening. You HAVE to come.
Nicole: If you don’t, I’ll literally scream so loud that you’ll hear me all the way to your brother’s house.
Me: Colin is my brother-in-law. Trust me, if my own brothers were here, I wouldn’t be able to hear you scream, but you’d be able to hear them all the way from your house.
Nicole: LOL. I’ll pick you up at 9. Wear something naughty.
I rolled my eyes, biting back a laugh. If I followed that particular instruction, there was no way my family would let me leave the house, but a few ideas were already taking shape in my mind. Over the years, I’d become pretty good at getting away with things they would never even know about.
This was one of the reasons I loved Nicole, though. No matter what was going on in my life, she always managed to make me smile because she, like me, understood that if people insisted on putting us on a pedestal, we might as well dance on it.
When Dad and I reached the modest little townhouse where my sister and her husband lived, the door swung open before our driver had even killed the engine and Deja came racing out.
I would never understand why she’d chosen to live here instead of the luxury condo Colin had bought her as part of her dowry, but I grinned anyway, flying out of the car to greet her.
She launched herself at me, wrapping me up in her arms for a tight, half-swaying, half-jumping hug. “Oh, I’ve missed having you around. Hi. How was the flight?”
I laughed, murmuring against her ear as I let my eyes drift shut. “The flight was fine. Dad was tiring.”
“Who’s he marrying you off to now?”
“You don’t want to know.” I pulled away from her and let out a deep, relieved breath through my nose as I looked into her eyes. “God, it’s good to see you. Home isn’t the same with only the boys there.”
“Where’s Mom?” Deja asked, looping her arm around mine and leading me into the townhouse.
“She’s thrown me to the wolves,” I lamented, waving at Colin, who’d been standing right behind her. He gave me a friendly wave in return, but he was already deep in conversation with our father.
I didn’t even feel bad about leaving them to it. Those two were thick as thieves these days.
My sister and I strode directly to their kitchen and she finally let go of my arm to put on the tea kettle, waving me into a stool at their center island.
“I was thinking we could do Rob’s diner for dinner tonight,” she said, smiling over her shoulder. “I know how much you grew to love their fries while you were here.”
“That sounds good. As long as I’m home by eight and ready by nine.”
She sighed. “How do you already have plans?”
“Nicole.” I shrugged. “She’s taking me to some new club opening.”
Deja groaned. “That girl really doesn’t have a lick of responsibility, does she? How is she always spending all night at some club?”
“It’s called being popular.”
“No, it’s called being spoiled,” Deja countered, then sighed. “Fine. I’ll make sure we’re home by eight, but do me a favor and don’t get into any trouble on your first night back, okay?”
“Me?” I batted my eyelashes, feigning innocence. “I never get into any trouble.”
“Those are famous last words coming from someone who seems to attract it.” She turned back to the kettle and filled our cups.
For the next few hours, I got caught up with her, teased Colin, avoided my father as much as possible, ate my body weight in delicious French fries, and then, finally, I slipped out of the house at exactly nine.
We’d dropped Dad off at the condo after dinner, which meant it was only Deja’s eyes I felt watching me when I saw Nicole’s headlights turn up the drive.
“Be safe,” she said, looking over from where she was tucked against Colin’s side on the couch. “Stay in touch with me tonight. I don’t want to go to bed wondering if you’re still alive.”
“I doubt you’ll be thinking of me at all when you go to bed,” I teased, winking at her before I opened the door and made a run for Nicole’s fancy little sports car.
The passenger window rolled down as I headed toward her, my friend leaning across the interior to grin at me. “Please tell me you’re wearing something skimpy under that coat!”
I smirked, unzipping the light, long jacket as I opened the door. “Don’t worry. I’ve got your back. Don’t I always?”
Tossing the jacket behind my seat, I hopped in and quickly slammed the door behind me before Deja could see the crop top I had on with my skin-tight jeans. Nicole howled with laughter as she peeled out the drive.
“You look incredible,” she said. “I just don’t understand why you have to hide it.”
“I don’t have to. I simply choose to.” Sometimes. “You look great, too.”
She put her palm flat under her dainty chin and batted her long, pitch black lashes at me. “Naturally. I don’t know any other way to look.”
I laughed, but I also knew she wasn’t joking. Nicole was stunning, with waist-length, platinum-blonde hair, massive green eyes, and an ass to kill for. The girl could wear a plastic bag and make it look like high fashion.
Relaxing into my seat, I turned up the volume of her radio and we both started shouting along to a new pop song as she wound her way through traffic like it wasn’t even there.
Already feeling free for the first time in months, I did a little dance in my seat, running my fingers through my hair and soaking up the feeling of being back in Chicago—in late summer this time, when the weather wasn’t trying to kill me.
Fifteen minutes later, we rolled up in front of the newest nightclub in the city and flashbulbs exploded at the sight of Nicole’s car. She screeched to a stop at the end of a short red carpet, turning to grin at me. “Are you ready?”
“Aren’t I always?”
She tossed her hair over her shoulder and drew in a deep breath. Leaving her keys in the ignition, she reached for the door handle. “Then let’s go, babe. I can’t wait for you to meet Lucas!”
Before I could even ask who that was, she was out of the car and quietly threatening the valet before flashing the cameras a megawatt smile. I joined her moments later, slipping my arm around hers and pretending I could see where we were going.
The cameras nearly blinded me, but I kept a smile pasted firmly on my lips, posing with her like we’d done dozens of times before.
If Dad saw these pictures, I’d get yet another lecture about inappropriate clothing, but it would still be worth it for the rush of adrenaline I got from being in front of these cameras.
It wore off quickly, though. Thankfully, Nicole didn’t linger much longer either, dragging me through a set of doors that led us straight into the club. Music pulsed through the dimly lit interior, strobe lights crashing into my eyes every so often as we crossed the stunning, brand-new space.
Towering steel beams had been left exposed overhead, old brick walls left untouched. It was trendy and gorgeous, and yet, I was bored before I was even handed a drink I hadn’t ordered. Nicole seemed to know everyone, stopping to chat at least a dozen times while keeping a firm grip on my arm.
I muttered greetings, but part of me definitely would’ve preferred to have been eating ice cream on the couch with my sister. What is wrong with me?
This had been happening more and more often, the scene I used to live for suddenly just feeling old. As Nicole dragged me toward yet another group of people I had no interest in talking to, I looked around the club in general, hoping to spot something or someone who could distract me.
Unfortunately, the only person I found capable of doing that was none other than Isaac Thayer. My eyes narrowed immediately, but the man’s face didn’t change.
It was definitely him, sitting comfortably perched in the raised VIP section overlooking the dance floor, laughing at something one of the guys with him must’ve said. He had one arm stretched casually across the back of the booth, that dark blond head thrown back in amusement.
I sighed, about to turn back to Nicole to ask her if we could go somewhere else when he glanced across the room and ended up looking straight at me.
Our eyes met, and for one odd second, neither of us looked away.
Isaac smiled and lifted a hand, curling two fingers in a motion that obviously meant he wanted me to come upstairs.
The audacity.
I even looked over my shoulder to make sure he wasn’t signaling someone else, but nope. He definitely meant me.
Scoffing, I turned my attention back to the bar, but when I glanced over my shoulder a second later, his seat was empty. I followed the line of the staircase just in time to see him making his way down through the crowd—and he was coming straight toward me.