The next evening, Jasmine cleared the half-eaten dakgangjeong, or sweet crispy chicken, according to the Korean recipe book she’d borrowed from the library. She’d forgotten to swap out the gochujang with ketchup, and unfortunately her daughter didn’t have the same affinity for spicy foods as she did. Was it hereditary? Her biological father surely would enjoy the spices from his nation. So it made sense that she did.
“Can I have more hobos now?” Zoey asked, taking a drink of her water.
“You mean hotteoks?” She laughed, picking up one of the sweet pancakes from the paper towel on the counter.
Zoey held her hands open, greedily. “Mmmm.”
“Don’t eat it too fast.”
Zoey took a bite of the fried pastry, the dark filling spilling out over the edge.
“Try not to squeeze it while you eat it or it will drip.” Jasmine traced her finger over the edge, sampling some of the sweet and nutty filling.
“I like this one, Mommy,” Zoey said with her mouth full, a few bits of her dessert spilling out onto the plate underneath her.
“Stop talking with your mouth full, silly.”
“Want some?” Zoey offered her half-eaten dessert.
“Just one bite.” Jasmine leaned in as her daughter offered her the pastry. “Mmmm. You’re right. So yummy.”
“Hey, guys.” Atlas interrupted and walked into the warmly lit kitchen.
She cringed. She’d been able to avoid him all day. It was probably better they pretend nothing had happened. Not that she’d ever forget that feeling of being alive for those few short minutes. Maybe if I was somebody else.
“What can I do for you?” she asked, switching into innkeeper mode.
He leaned against the doorframe, eyes flicking between Zoey and her as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I wondered if you had any recommendations on ice-cream shops?”
“Ice cream! I want ice cream too, Mommy.” Zoey jumped up excitedly, dropping the Korean treat Jasmine had spent all afternoon learning how to make.
“You just had your dessert.” This was going to be a losing battle.
Atlas shrugged, the corner of his mouth turning up. “I’d be happy to have company.”
“Yay! Mommy, can we go to the diner? I want cotton candy—two scoops.” Zoey tugged on her arm.
Jasmine looked to Atlas. He was full-on smirking now. She narrowed her gaze. What is his game?
She couldn’t say no. It would offer them the chance to spend time together. Zoey was his daughter after all, even if he didn’t know it.
“I don’t have a car right now.” Jasmine conceded.
“We can take mine.” Atlas lifted the keys from his pocket.
She gave a resigned sigh. “I’ll get her car seat.” Jasmine grabbed her purse off the counter and Zoey’s hand. Her stomach flipped with nervous butterflies. She had to tell him soon. But for right now, she’d let Zoey have this time with him. Just because someone was a father didn’t mean they’d stick around.
“One cotton candy cone with rainbow sprinkles, and a double scoop of chocolate mint for me. What about you, Jasmine?” Atlas turned from the waitress and asked.
“I’m fine.”
“My treat,” he said.
Heat rose to her cheeks. She wasn’t a charity case. And usually men wanted something in return. Nothing was free. “I’m good. Just ate dinner.”
“What’s your favorite flavor?” he persisted.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not hungry.”
“Okay. Why don’t you girls go get a table?” Atlas suggested.
Jasmine grabbed Zoey’s hand and led her to an empty blue and white booth. Zoey slid in first, and Jasmine followed. Atlas joined them a few minutes later.
“Z, what do you say to Mr. Atlas for the ice cream?” Jasmine prodded.
“Fank you.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome.”
Jasmine tried to look anywhere but at him. Zoey rubbed her eyes. It was close to her bedtime. She wasn’t going to win any mother-of-the-year awards for pumping her kid full of sugar before bed, but this was a moment with her father Zoey could remember as she grew older. What Jasmine wouldn’t have given to just meet her biological father—or even see a picture—to have some connection to Korea.
“How was your day at school?” Atlas asked Zoey.
“It was otay. I gots to paint with my fingers.” She held up her little hands.
Atlas’s eyes widened. “Wow. That sounds pretty fun.”
“Here you go.” The waitress came over with her hands full. “One cotton candy cone with rainbow sprinkles for the princess.” She handed it to Zoey’s outstretched hands. “I added some extra sprinkles.” She winked.
Jasmine hadn’t seen her around before. She flicked her eyes to the name tag. Brynn.
“Fank you.”
“Sure, cutie.” Brynn winked. “Here’s your chocolate mint cone.”
“Thanks.”
“And your chai vanilla shake.” She set the paper cup in front of Jasmine. Atlas’s eyes were glued to her.
“Anything else?” Brynn asked.
“I think we’re good.” Atlas nodded.
“Enjoy.” The waitress left them alone.
“I told you I didn’t want anything,” Jasmine said, eying the milkshake. How did he know my favorite flavor?
He shrugged. “No, you said you weren’t hungry. I got you a shake so you can drink it later when you have room.”
She inhaled a shaky breath. Was this pity? Was he attempting to make up for earlier? Was he just trying to get her to sleep with him?
“What else happened at school today, Zoey?” Atlas focused back on her daughter.
Zoey had licked all the sprinkles off and had a dab of pink ice cream on her nose. Jasmine wiped her face with a napkin as Zoey answered.
“Denny kissed me.”
Jasmine’s hand froze. The blood in her veins turned to ice. Her chest squeezed tight as she held her breath. Panic skittered across her skin. “W-what did you say?”
“Denny kissed me.” Zoey scrunched up her nose.
“Where?” Jasmine asked, her voice sounding more urgent than she’d intended.
Zoey looked up at her and pointed to her cheek. “Here.”
Jasmine forced a deep breath in and out of her lungs as she softened her facial features. Smiling when it felt like you were free-falling was no easy task. She gentled her voice. “Did Denny ask if he could kiss you?”
Zoey shook her head. “No. He chased me and then did it.”
Anger roiled inside her. Every muscle in her body tensed. “Did you tell your teacher?”
Zoey’s shoulders drooped. “Miss Stevens said it meant he liked me.”
Jasmine clenched her hands into fists, her nails breaking her skin. “That wasn’t okay, sweetheart. No one can touch your body without asking and you saying yes, remember?”
Zoey lowered her head, her face downcast. “I’m sorry, Mommy.”
Pink ice cream dripped down her chubby hands. Jasmine took it from her and set it on the pile of napkins on the table before cleaning her hands quickly and holding her baby girl in her arms. “Z, honey? You’re not in trouble. You didn’t do anything wrong. Denny didn’t ask for your consent, and that was wrong.”
“Co-sent?” Zoey asked.
Jasmine nodded. “Remember, it’s the big word that means ask for your permission?”
Zoey nodded, her face buried in Jasmine’s neck.
“Your teacher was also wrong. If a boy really likes you, he’ll wait for your consent.” She was suddenly aware of Atlas’s intense stare on her. In her panic, she’d forgotten they weren’t alone. It didn’t matter. Some things were too important to wait.
Jasmine pulled Zoey away, cupping her sweet face in her hands. She considered her daughter’s grey eyes. “You’re not in trouble, Zoey. You did the right thing by telling me. You can always come to Mommy and tell me anything, and I will never get mad. Okay?”
Zoey nodded. “Otay, Mommy. I will.”
Jasmine set her back down in the seat. “Now eat your ice cream before it melts.”
Zoey picked up what was left of the cone and took a big lick.
Jasmine’s eyes flicked to Atlas’s. His own cone was dripping onto the table. She pointed. “You’re making a mess.”
He blinked twice before looking down as if just realizing it himself. He swept his pink tongue out, licking along the edge of the cone.
“Do you ask girls for co-sent before you kiss them, Mr. Atlas?” Zoey piped up.
He coughed. Of all the questions to ask.
Atlas’s gaze shifted to hers, a flicker of guilt crossing them. Is he going to lie? Most adults did in this situation.
“Actually, no. I haven’t.”
He earned a little more of Jasmine’s respect with his truthful answer.
Zoey’s eyes grew wide. “You haven’t?”
He shook his head. “But I promise I will from now on.”
Zoey’s eyes lit up and she smiled. “Good. That’s good, right, Mommy?”
“That’s very good.” Now if the rest of the male population could get on board . . . She’d be having a talk with Miss Stevens on Monday.
Zoey focused on her ice cream, only managing a few more licks before she set it back onto the napkin. Jasmine excused them to go to the bathroom, and cleaned Zoey’s hands and face with water. Her little legs were lagging on the walk back to the table.
“You guys ready to go?” Atlas asked, getting up from the table.
“Yes.”
He handed her the milkshake. “Don’t want to forget this.”
She took it from him, a small smile curving the corners of her mouth.
Atlas held the door to the street open for them. The sun was low in the sky, a few clouds overhead making it a little cooler than when they’d entered the restaurant. She pulled Zoey’s jacket from her purse, stopping to slip her arms inside.
“I’m tired. Mr. Atlas, can you carry me?” Zoey asked.
“Sure.”
“I can—” Jasmine stopped. Does Zoey know? No. That would be crazy. She was just used to having her uncles around.
He shrugged. “I’d be happy to.”
Zoey lifted her arms to Atlas. He glanced at Jasmine as if asking permission. She nodded.
Seeing the small three-year-old in her father’s arms sent a shot of longing clamoring inside her chest. Zoey’s fingers threaded around his neck as she hung on tight. His big, broad frame wrapped protectively around her. A piece of Jasmine’s heart fused back together. She pulled out her phone and stepped behind them to snap a picture discreetly. Even if it all went to hell, Zoey could have at least one memory of her father holding her. Of being cherished by the man who was supposed to love and protect her.
But maybe Jasmine hadn’t screwed everything up after all. Maybe this would be the best thing to happen to them.
A tiny spark of hope ignited deep inside her soul. A flicker of light amidst the darkest corners hidden in a wall of thorns. Hope was dangerous. But for Zoey, she’d put it all on the line.