Chapter Eleven Jasmine #2
Then there was Tora, still staring up at me with those imploring eyes and wagging his tail with the fervor of someone who knew he was close to victory.
Finally, I remembered why I’d gotten out of bed in the first place: to clear my head and get some exercise before the day’s inevitable chaos began.
And if there was one thing I needed right now, it was to clear my mind—preferably with some fresh air and a brisk pace.
“Fine,” I muttered, grabbing the leash. Tora barked triumphantly and danced in circles as if he’d just won the lottery. “But this better be worth it.”
Tora and I hadn’t gotten far from the apartment when my phone buzzed in the pocket of my leggings.
I groaned when I saw who was calling. Of all the things I needed to deal with right now, a conversation with my mother ranked somewhere between a root canal and doing my taxes.
But, like the dutiful daughter I was, I accepted the call.
“Hey, Mom,” I answered, trying to inject some cheer into my tone as Tora tugged impatiently at the leash.
“Hello, sweetheart!” she chirped. “How are you? I thought you would have called me to let me know you arrived safely, but I haven’t heard from you.”
“I’m fine. Everything is fine,” I assured her, keeping one eye on Tora, who was determined to sniff every square inch of the sidewalk. I didn’t want to stray too far from the apartment because the ominous gray clouds above made it clear rain was imminent.
We reached the large, fenced-in park behind the library, and I decided it was a good spot to stop.
There was only one way in or out, and the park was lined with thick bushes.
A nearby bench offered a vantage point that covered the entire area.
It seemed harmless enough to let Tora off the leash for a bit, so I unlatched the hook from his collar, hovering nearby just to be safe.
Tora meandered around the park, his nose glued to the ground as he inspected every blade of grass, every rock, and every fallen leaf with the thoroughness of a forensic scientist. Confident I could keep an eye on him while holding a conversation, I sat on the bench and pressed the phone back to my ear.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” I said, hoping to appease her. “It’s been a bit of a whirlwind the last couple of days—in a good way—but I’m glad you called. How are you and Dad doing?”
“Well, thank you for asking,” she replied, her voice dripping with the satisfaction of a mother whose child finally remembered their manners.
“Your father and I are fine. Wink, Blink, and Nod, on the other hand, are driving me crazy. Who knew three of the tiniest little things could cause so much trouble?”
I wanted to say, Anyone, Mom. Anyone in the world could have told you that taking care of three Pomeranians would be a lot of work, but I bit my tongue and listened as she launched into a detailed account of their latest escapades.
Meanwhile, Tora was prowling along the edge of the park, pausing every few feet to inspect a random branch or leaf like it held the secrets of the universe.
“Anyway,” she continued, “enough about me and my drama. How is your little project going?”
I sighed, already knowing where this was headed. “It’s not a little project, Mom. I’m working on an extremely important presentation that could make or break my career.”
“A career in public relations.” Her tone carried the same weight as if I’d told her I was training to be a mime. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she added, not sounding sorry at all, “but this all just seems like a colossal waste of your time and potential.”
“What?” I scoffed. “What would you have me do, Mother? What would you consider a more suitable use of my time?”
“There’s no need to get testy,” she replied, her tone as patronizing as ever. “But since you asked, you could take this time to recharge and reassess. You could move back in with me and Daddy.”
I rolled my eyes so hard I was surprised they didn’t get stuck.
“You could go back to school. I still have some connections in the modeling world. You could get an agent, do some traveling…”
“Modeling?” I screeched, earning a curious glance from a nearby squirrel. “I’m thirty years old!”
“And still beautiful,” she countered without missing a beat.
“Seriously?”
“I just don’t understand why you’re chasing this opportunity that may amount to nothing but a waste of your time. And working with Derek Carter, of all people.”
My heart stopped. For the last thirteen years, my mother would rather chew off her own arm than mention the Carter family.
“What is wrong with me working with Derek Carter?” I asked, my voice sharper than I’d intended.
“Jasmine, you’re an adult. Your choices are your own, but I’m not comfortable with it.”
“Why not?” I pressed, desperate for answers. “What happened between our families? Why won’t you ever talk about it?”
“I’m not interested in dredging up the past,” she began, but her voice faded into white noise as my eyes scanned the park. My stomach dropped. I couldn’t see Tora.
“Mom, I have to go.” My voice trembled.
“Jasmine, listen, I just—”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I love you. I’ll call you later.” I ended the call without waiting for her response and bolted from the bench, shouting Tora’s name at the top of my lungs.
Panic clawed at my chest as I searched every inch of the park, my voice growing hoarse from yelling. Just as I was about to give up hope, the sky opened up, and fat drops of rain began to fall, drenching me in seconds.
“Tora!” I screamed, my voice breaking. But the only response was the sound of rain pelting the ground. My heart sank as the realization hit me: Tora was gone.