Chapter 3
Cameron knew this disclosure would probably shock Jasmine. “No, I’m not. I’d just turned fifteen and that summer I went to work in my father’s office as a gofer. Hannah walked in with her father and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Judge DuPont had come to see my dad about setting up an investment portfolio for his grandson. Hannah was ten years my senior, married and a mother but that did not stop me from gawking at her.”
“Did she know this?”
Cameron lowered his eyes, and the expression crossing his features made him appear slightly embarrassed. “No.”
“Not many men are willing to admit to their boyhood fantasies.”
“It could be they’re ashamed to admit it.”
“And you’re not?” Jasmine asked.
Cameron exhaled an inaudible breath. “No. I’m not perfect—far from it, and if I realize I’ve done something wrong, then I try to make it right.”
He did not want to tell Jasmine that he had dated a few women who were under the impression they would become the next Mrs. Cameron Singleton even when he hadn’t sent them signals or any indication that what they had shared would lead to an exchange of vows. As soon as they mentioned commitment, Cameron realized it was time to end it.
He liked and respected women, enjoyed their company, and had grown confident and comfortable being seen with a different woman every five or six months. It usually took that long for him to determine whether to continue or end their liaison. And while his brothers and occasionally his father chided him for sleeping around, he said nothing to change their minds. He’d become very discriminating when it came to sleeping with a woman, because he did not want to take advantage of them. There were women he’d continued to date without taking their relationship from platonic to physical.
“How’s your salmon?” Jasmine’s query shattered his reverie.
“It’s delicious,” Cameron replied. “Right now I’m trying to detox from red meat. There are times when I crave steak and I end up eating it at least twice a week. Recently I’ve made it a point to include more chicken and fish in my diet.”
“Do you cook for yourself?”
“No. I’m not very proficient in the kitchen.”
“Who cooks for you?” she asked.
“I order in.”
With wide eyes, Jasmine rested a hand on her throat. There was no doubt she was taken aback by the revelation that he ordered his meals. “Why don’t you hire a cook?”
“I have a chef. I order what I want and have it delivered to me.”
“I know by the cut of your suit that you have a personal tailor. Do you also have a housekeeper and driver?”
Cameron saw a hint of laughter in her eyes. “I do admit I have a housekeeper and tailor, but I do draw the line with a driver. I like driving my own car.”
“Do you also live in the Garden District?”
“No. I have a place in the Central Business District, or as the locals call it the CBD.”
“I really haven’t seen that much of New Orleans. The exception is the Garden District, Tremé, and Faubourg Marigny.”
“So I wasn’t being presumptuous when offering to act as your tour guide when you come down?” Cameron asked.
“No, you weren’t,” she told him, smiling.
The conversation switched to sports and Cameron was mildly surprised to discover Jasmine was quite knowledgeable about her New York sports teams. She had admitted to attending Mets’ games at CitiField and braving the winter elements at MetLife Stadium to cheer on the New York Giants.
He could not remember a time he had ever enjoyed the company of a woman so much. Cameron had known within ten minutes of sitting down with Jasmine that she would never bore him. However, he did find it odd that she’d graduated college with a fine arts degree only to give it up to become a human resource specialist. He felt comfortable talking about anything with her, including the revelation that he’d never slept with a woman without using protection.
Cameron did not want Jasmine to believe he wanted her for sex. Although he had to admit to himself that he was physically drawn to her, because when he saw her for the first time it had been her face and figure that had garnered his immediate attention. And after he asked Hannah about Jasmine, he had made it known to his friend and client that he wanted to take Jasmine out, and not sleep with her. The attorney looked at him as if he had taken leave of his senses because apparently his reputation with women had preceded him. Most people, other than the women who were seen in public with him, didn’t know that many of his relationships were platonic. And those he’d slept with did not kiss and tell.
He peered under lowered lids over the rim of the flute. “Are you going to give me a hint where on Long Island we’re going?”
Jasmine flashed a mysterious smile. “No. It’s a surprise. The only thing I’m going to say is you should wear comfortable clothing and shoes. And don’t forget your sunblock, because the weather is predicted to be in the eighties. I don’t want you looking like a lobster while we’re eating lobster. Oh, I forgot to ask. Are you allergic to shellfish?”
“No.” Her mentioning sunblock and comfortable clothing piqued Cameron’s curiosity. “Are we going sailing?”
“No,” she repeated, smiling. “I wouldn’t invite you to go sailing when you’re taking me on a river cruise Saturday.”
Cameron lifted broad shoulders under his suit jacket. “I suppose I’ll have to wait and find out what the beautiful lady has planned for us.”
Jasmine lowered her eyes with the compliment, and he found himself transfixed by the demure expression. There was something about the woman sitting across from him that he found worldly and innocent at the same time. Worldly because she’d been married and was not an ingénue when it came to sleeping with a man, and chaste whenever she would lower her eyes and blush when complimented.
He wondered if her husband had been her only lover or aside from him if she hadn’t had much experience with the opposite sex. The questions tumbled over themselves in his head and Cameron knew if he didn’t stop ruminating about Jasmine’s past he would ruin his chances of possibly cultivating a friendship with her. He had to let things unfold naturally. Their conversation segued to the high number of movie sequels and Broadway revivals, and both agreed there was a dearth of new artistic talent in Hollywood and along the Great White Way.
Jasmine stared out the window. “I’m ashamed to admit although I live here I rarely attend a Broadway show or movie opening.”
“You don’t like live theater?” Cameron asked.
Jasmine rested an elbow on the table and cupped her chin in the heel of her hand. “Not as much as I enjoy old school music.”
“Like old school rap?”
“Some. But mostly R&B similar to Luther Vandross, Keith Sweat, Marvin Gaye, Joe, Dru Hill, and Maxwell. And I love the soundtracks to Waiting to Exhale, and Soul Food. In other words, I prefer to listen to music rather than go to see someone perform.”
“I like both,” he admitted. “When you asked me how many times I come to New York other than to meet with my frat brothers, the only other thing that would bring me here is a live play or concert. Last year I managed to see Hamilton. I flew up, saw it, and then took a redeye back to New Orleans the same night because I had a meeting at eleven the next morning with a new client.”
Jasmine’s smile spoke volumes. “Now, that’s one play I wanted to see, but sadly I couldn’t get a ticket.”
“If I’d known you then I would’ve asked you to come with me.”
“Maybe another time,” she said cryptically.
Cameron knew without a doubt there would be another time. When he’d sent Jasmine the text he’d hoped she would agree to meet him. Now, not only were they sharing dinner but she had also invited him to accompany her to Long Island, and had agreed to become his plus-one for a yacht party.
He’d found Jasmine different from the other women he’d dated when it came to poise and confidence. Some women, despite their age, retained their adolescent tendencies when they were overly flirtatious, seductive, and concocted schemes to make him jealous—all which he found offensive and a turn-off.
A wry smile twisted Cameron’s mouth when he realized he’d had to wait until he was nearly fifty to find a woman with whom he hoped he could have an ongoing relationship lasting more than a year. The only drawback was the distance between them. More than thirteen hundred miles separated them, and he knew he couldn’t relocate. Despite her unemployed status, he had no idea whether Jasmine would be willing to move to New Orleans. Jasmine had accused him of coming on too aggressively, so he decided not to broach the possibility of her moving to his hometown.
The waiter returned to the table and refilled both flutes. This time Jasmine did not cover the glass with her hand. Cameron took a long swallow, while silently complimenting himself on securing not one, but two more dates with Jasmine during his stay. He ate slowly because he did not want the evening to end. There was so much he wanted to know about her but decided to hold off making further inquiries as to why she had given up her career as an interior decorator. He wanted her to feel comfortable enough with him to divulge it on her own.
All too soon for Cameron, dinner ended with he and Jasmine both declining dessert and coffee. “Is there any place you’d like to go before I take you home?” he asked Jasmine.
“No, thank you.”
He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and retrieved his cell phone. He spoke quietly into the speaker, before signaling the waiter for the check. Cameron settled the bill and escorted her out of the restaurant where a shiny black town car sat idling at the curb. Nightfall had descended on the island of Manhattan and there was hardly any pedestrian traffic in the Financial District.
* * *
The driver got out and came around to open the rear door and Jasmine managed to slide gracefully onto the rear seat without exposing too much leg. Cameron got in next to her, his left arm resting over the back of the seat. She went still when his fingers caressed the nape of her neck, and then relaxed as he moved closer. It had been a long time since a man had touched her in a display of affection. And she had to admit that it felt good.
Jasmine closed her eyes. Her initial uneasiness as to whether she would share dinner with Cameron vanished when he proved to be a wonderful conversationalist, and she wanted to tell him he truly was a son of New Orleans because he and Harry Connick, Jr. shared the same speech pattern.
“Where do you want me to drop you off?” Cameron asked her.
She opened her eyes gave him her address and he in turn told the driver. She found it impossible to ignore the warmth from Cameron’s body, which was a blatant reminder that it had been much too long since she’d been this physically close to a man she was attracted to. There had been a time when Jasmine realized her ex’s duplicity had so turned her off to the opposite sex that she found the notion of sleeping with a man abhorrent. However, something about Cameron was different. Everything about him was a turn-on from his fastidious grooming to his undivided attentiveness. He was well past forty which made her wonder why he hadn’t married. Was he a confirmed bachelor because he’d loved and lost or did he prefer living his life without having to be responsible for another person?
Jasmine forced herself not to think of becoming involved with Cameron beyond the coming weekend. After Sunday morning she would not see him again until she returned to New Orleans for her friend’s wedding. And she didn’t know why she’d invited him to accompany her to visit her aunt and uncle except that she wanted to offer him a little New York hospitality. She hadn’t told him where they were going because she wanted it to be a surprise. It was a place where as a child she’d always spent the last two weeks of her summer vacation.
The ride from the Financial District to the Upper Eastside was accomplished in record time and Cameron leaned forward as the driver maneuvered along the curb in front her apartment building. “Please wait here for me.”
The doorman approached the car and opened the rear door as Cameron got out, and then he turned to assist Jasmine. She smiled up at him. “Thank you for a wonderful evening.”
He leaned in and dipped his head. “I’ll see you to your door.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
Cameron reached for her hand, threading their fingers together. “I was raised whenever I date a lady to make certain she gets home safely.”
“I am home, and the building’s safe because there’s a doorman and anyone who doesn’t live here has to be announced.”
He gave her fingers a barely perceptible squeeze. “Just because I’m walking in peaceably with you doesn’t show anything. What if I had ordered you not to scream or I’d carry you away on my pirate ship.”
Jasmine smothered a giggle. “Why are you being so melodramatic? It’s apparent you’ve watched too many movies featuring kidnappings.”
Cameron chuckled softly. “How did you know?”
She sobered quickly. “You do?”
He nodded. “Yes. My television is always tuned to the Investigation Discovery Channel.”
“What about the Bloomberg Channel?”
“That, too,” he confirmed. “Do you watch much television?” Cameron asked as they walked in the direction of the building’s elevators and entered an empty car.
Jasmine, easing her hand from Cameron’s loose grip, put some distance between them as she moved against the opposite wall of the elevator car, and punched the button for the eighteenth floor. “There are times when I watch too much,” she admitted as the car rose quietly and quickly upward. “I’ve OD’d on programs featuring home renovations, decorating, and flipping properties and countless DYI projects.”
Cameron smiled and attractive lines fanned out around his luminous eyes. “What’s the expression? You can take the girl out of the business but you can’t get the decorating business out of the girl.”
She lowered her eyes. It was obvious Cameron wanted to know why she’d switched careers, and although she’d revealed the details behind her failed marriage to her former coworkers, Jasmine was reluctant to talk about it to anyone else. And especially not to a man she was certain she would see again once she returned to New Orleans for Tonya’s wedding. Whenever she thought about her relationship with her ex-husband she still could not believe she had been that gullible and trusting, and had allowed her obsession with being a wife keep her from seeing what was so obvious. She’d even lied to herself when she’d suspected Raymond of cheating on her. It was only when she saw the emails and text messages on his phone that she was forced to face reality: her husband had fathered a child with another woman.
“That sounds about right,” she said, meeting Cameron’s eyes.
“Have you given up decorating altogether?”
“Yes. At least for now.” The elevator stopped and the doors opened and Cameron stepped out, allowing Jasmine to precede him down the carpeted hallway to her apartment. “A friend has asked me to help her decorate her apartment, but that’s still months away.” She stopped at her door, opened her evening bag and took out a set of keys. Turning, she smiled at Cameron. “Thank you again for a wonderful dinner. I’ll text you tomorrow to let you know what time I’ll pick you up Friday.” Going on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek. “Good night.”
Cameron nodded. “Good night, Jasmine.”
He turned on his heel and retraced his steps to the bank of elevators as she unlocked the door to her apartment, and once inside she slipped out of her shoes. It was then she allowed herself to exhale. She didn’t know why, but she felt as if she’d been holding her breath from the moment she recognized Cameron as he stood outside the restaurant. There was something about the man that kept her on edge, as if her nerves were stretched taut while in his presence.
He hadn’t done anything to make her feel ill at ease, so it had to be something of her own doing. And Jasmine didn’t know what possessed her to invite him to accompany her on a drive to Long Island, except that she wanted to even the playing field for his inviting her to have dinner with him at one of her favorite restaurants.
She draped the shawl over the chair next to the table in the entryway and walked on bare feet to the bedroom. It took minutes for her to slip out of her dress and underwear and enter the en suite bathroom to brush her teeth and remove her makeup. A quick shower followed by the regimen of slathering a moisturizer over her still-damp body completed her nightly ablution.
Jasmine returned to the bedroom and, opening a drawer in a chest-on-chest, she selected a floral cotton sleep tank and matching shorts. It wasn’t even ten o’clock and much too early for bed. When, she mused, had her life become so mundane? She had too much time on her hands now that she was unemployed again.
When she was laid off with more than two dozen employees without prior warning, she had been more shocked than the others because as the assistant human resource specialist, she never heard or saw anything in writing that a merger was being finalized. It had been the second time during her tenure that the bank’s executives had blindsided her. The first was when the director of HR resigned and Jasmine had assumed she would be promoted to head the department. She’d managed not to reveal her disappointment when the nephew of a board member was hired to replace her former supervisor. Then it all had become clear to her once the downsizing went into effect. Her new boss had managed to conceal every detail of the merger and layoffs because of his direct access to the board of directors.
She shook her head to rid her thoughts of the past. It had been a year since life as she knew it had changed drastically, and now it was time for her to plan for her future. Although she was unemployed again Jasmine knew she had options. She could either apply for another position as a human resource specialist, or return to her former profession as an interior decorator. Or she could accept Hannah’s offer to invest in the DuPont Inn. Becoming a part-owner of a lodging establishment was tempting because it would harken back to when she ran her own business.
A slow smile parted her lips when she recalled Nydia’s request that she decorate the apartment she was subletting from Tonya. It would the first time in years that she would take an empty space and fill it with furnishings that suited a client’s taste and their personality. Thinking of Nydia reminded her she had to text her friend to let her know about her date with Cameron.
She retrieved her cell phone, climbed onto a stool at the kitchen’s breakfast bar, and sent her friend a text message. The condo had undergone several renovations since she first purchased the unit what now seemed eons ago. She’d had walls removed to allow for an open floor plan and the expansive dining and living rooms flowed together. The kitchen had been remodeled, and Jasmine had also updated the bathroom off the entryway. Her bedroom, with breathtaking views of the East River, was spacious enough for an en suite bath and sitting area.
Five minutes later her cell chimed and Nydia’s name and number appeared on the screen. “What do you want to know?” Jasmine asked, smiling as she answered.
“How did it go with Daddy?” Nydia asked.
“Well.”
“Just well, mija?”
Her smile grew wider. “It went very, very well. I’m seeing him again on Friday, and he invited me to join him and his friends for a yacht party Saturday night.”
“Coño,” Nydia drawled. “What did you do to him?”
Jasmine laughed. Nydia would regularly intersperse English and Spanish whenever they were together. Jasmine grew up with her father speaking English, while her mother spoke Spanish and Tagalog. The latter she perfected whenever she spent summer in the Philippines with her mother’s relatives.
“I didn’t do anything except be myself.”
It was Nydia’s turn to laugh. “We’ll it’s more than apparent that he likes you. But, the question is, do you like him?
“I do,” Jasmine said without hesitation. “I must admit initially I felt a bit uneasy because he can come on a little too strong.”
“That’s called confidence, Jasmine. Cameron’s mature and definitely confident enough to go after something he wants.”
“And that is?”
“You, mija. He was staring at you at Hannah’s reception like a starving man who hadn’t eaten in days. And I’m certain I’m not the only one that noticed it.”
“That’s because he was curious,” she said.
“Yeah, right,” Nydia drawled. “Although I’m younger than you, I’m willing to bet that I’ve had more experience with men than you, and I’m going to say it even though you may not want to hear it.”
Jasmine went completely still when she encountered silence on the other end of the connection. She didn’t want Nydia to tell her something she didn’t want or need to hear. “What is it?”
“The man’s going to put something on you that will rock your world.”
Throwing back her head, Jasmine laughed until she could hardly catch her breath. “Do you really think I’m going to sleep with him?” she asked once she recovered from laughing hysterically.
“Well, you should. It’s been much too long since you’ve slept with a man, so if it feels right with Cameron, then go for it.”
Jasmine closed her eyes at the same time she exhaled an audible sigh. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Why not? Do you find him repulsive?”
“Of course not,” she said much too quickly. The truth was she found Cameron very attractive.
“Then what’s stopping you, mija?”
“He’s a stranger.”
“Every man is a stranger until you sleep with him.”
Jasmine frowned. “That’s where you’re wrong, chica. I slept with a man who lay next to me practically every night and I didn’t get to know him until it was too late.”
“That may be true, but the difference is you’re not married to Cameron. He’s only going to be here for a short time, so have a little fun and then send him on his way.”
“Why do you make it sound as if I’m planning to use him for sex?”
“And why shouldn’t you? Men use us, don’t they?”
“True.”
“What’s the expression? ‘What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.’ ”
Jasmine knew Nydia was right. She had offered an older man her virginity and in return he had helped to advance her career. It had become a win-win for both. He had claimed a young woman as his constant companion and he made it possible for her to establish her name as an up-and-coming decorator in a male-dominated design field.
“You’re right,” she said after a pregnant pause.
“Well, what are you going to do about it?”
Jasmine felt a shiver of annoyance creep up her spine. “I’m not going to set out to seduce a man because it’s been a while since I’ve had sex.”
“A while? Didn’t you tell me it’s been almost three years? It’s a wonder you don’t have cobwebs growing you know where.”
Jasmine laughed again. “Stop it!” She sobered. “What about you, Nydia? What are you doing now that you’re not seeing Danny?”
“I have a vibrator. I haven’t used it yet, but at least I have it if I feel the urge to take care of my own sexual needs.”
Jasmine grimaced. She did not want to think of inserting a foreign object into her body in order to have an orgasm. There had been a time when her sex drive was very strong, but after uncovering her ex’s deception it was as if something inside her died.
“I prefer a man to a vibrator.”
“Well, you have a man, so what are you going to do about it? Jump the man’s bones and give him something he’ll remember for the rest of his life. Don’t forget he came onto you and not the other way around.”
“That doesn’t matter. I’ve never seduced a man.”
“Let’s take the word seduction out of the equation. What if it just happens?”
“Then it does, Nydia.”
“Does this mean you’re open to kicking it with Daddy?”
A slight frown creased Jasmine’s forehead. “Why do you keep calling him Daddy?”
“I call all fine-ass men Daddy or Papi. And Cameron’s definitely a Daddy. Hannah’s St. John is a Daddy and Tonya’s Gage is a Papi.”
“You’re right about that,” she agreed. There was something about Cameron she found enthralling, but that still did not translate into her seducing the man. If she saw him in New Orleans for an extended period of time, and if their relationship underwent a change from friends to friends with benefits, then they could enjoy whatever each other offered.
“What are you wearing to the yacht party?” Nydia asked.
“I haven’t decided yet. Remember, I couldn’t decide between two dresses to wear to Tonya’s wedding and bought them both.”
It had been the only time when Jasmine found herself in a quandary as to what to select to wear to a formal event. Most times she knew what she wanted and within an hour of walking into a shop would leave with her purchases. Looking for shoes never posed a problem because her closet was filled with shoes in varying styles and colors ranging from sandals and athletic footwear to serviceable pumps and designer stilettos.
“You have fabulous taste in clothes, so whatever you wear will be stunning,” Nydia said.
“Thank you.”
“How do you plan to wear your hair?”
“I’ll definitely pin it up.”
“If you need your hair done, then I’ll ask my mother if she’ll do it for you.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I don’t need anything that fancy.” Except for going to the salon for a haircut or trim, Jasmine usually styled her own coal-black wavy hair to suit the occasion. However, she planned to schedule a mani-pedi and a facial with a popular Second Avenue spa with operating hours that extended to midnight, and call her stylist for a trim.
Jasmine chatted with Nydia for another few minutes, and then said good night. She slipped off the stool and walked into the living room and sat on the loveseat facing the expanse of wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling windows. She always enjoyed sitting in the darkened room to look out at the lights on the bridges spanning the East River linking Manhattan with Queens and Brooklyn. It had become her time to reflect and heal.
When she’d decided to divorce Raymond, Jasmine would’ve been willing to give him everything he wanted to gain her freedom and independence—except the condo. No matter how much he pleaded and begged for her to put his name on the deed to the property she refused to relent. It had been her first and only big-ticket purchase and after being handed the keys to the unit, she and Gregory celebrated at his favorite restaurant before returning to his penthouse to make love. She hadn’t known that would be the last time. Two months later he died in his sleep from natural causes. Losing her mentor left her devastated, and it wasn’t until she met antiques dealer Raymond Rios she was able to shake off the sadness that shadowed her whenever she found herself alone.
Jasmine sat in the dark until she felt her lids drooping and knew it was time she get up and go to bed before falling asleep on the loveseat. She left the living room and slipped into bed as she recalled Nydia’s suggestion that she sleep with Cameron, and when the accountant asked her if she had urges, she hadn’t been reticent when she said sometimes. It was as if her desire for making love waned as soon as she discovered her husband’s infidelity. Although she wasn’t the first woman with an unfaithful husband, the pain of knowing he’d denied her the opportunity to become a mother when he had a child with another woman continued to haunt Jasmine. And she wouldn’t have been the only woman forced to accept the reality that her husband had fathered a child outside their marriage. What she refused to accept was his deceptiveness when he underwent a procedure which denied her the possibility of ever bearing his child.
Turning over on her belly, she closed her eyes. Jasmine had promised herself not to dwell on the past and now she was ruminating on what was and would never be repeated. She was rapidly approaching forty-three, she would never have children or want to remarry. And she had more than twenty years before she could even contemplate retiring.
Pounding the pillow under her head, she willed her mind blank and within minutes fell asleep, shutting out the image of the man she would see again and the suggestion of her friend to seduce him.