Jasmine

Unedited.

This wasn't how I was going to write this chapter, but it is what it is.

Sarah, xx

~*~*~

Jasmine was still banging on and on and on about something or nothing- I'm no longer sure; I stopped listening about an hour ago- when the lift finally stopped on my floor. With my early morning coffee in hand, I rushed out of the lift and started speed walking towards my office. My office, a corner one on the ninth floor, was at the other end of the carpeted hallway, and I could see Evelyn already busy with her work. I smiled as I approached, thinking that finally I'd have someone on my side rather than just having Jasmine berate me for everything that's gone wrong in this world.

Trailing behind me, I could still hear Jasmine tell me that it's my fault that we have global warming. I'm not sure what logic she'd used while coming to this conclusion, but I certainly wasn't about to argue the matter with her. If I did, I'd probably get blamed for world hunger, too.

I blindly walked towards my office, missing the way Clara charged at me, knocking into me. Warm coffee spilt down my front, staining my white shirt. I groaned in annoyance as the liquid dripped down my forearm, soaking into my suit jacket, making me wish that this day was over before it had barely even begun. With the coffee cup still in my hand-minus the lid that was now four feet away- I didn't have time to react when I felt someone's hands all over me, undoing the buttons of my shirt.

"What the-"

"Oh, hell no!" Jasmine cut off my question as she stepped in front of me and pushed Clara away. Jasmine, all five-nine of her, shoved me to the background and came face to face with the blonde. "You need to back off. You do not put your hands on another woman's man without permission, especially if said man is my best friend's man. Now, run along little girl."

Clara looked taken aback momentarily but she recovered well enough that she smirked at Jasmine. "Look, dahl-ing, I'm not sure how things are done in the old colony but here, on my side of the great blue ocean that thankfully separates us, we don't get all up in each other's faces and think oneself superior to another."

"Look, honey," Jasmine returned Clara's patronising tone of voice, clearly not one to sit back and allow someone to speak to her like that. "Calling my country an old colony is thinking of oneself as superior to another. I'm not sure how things are done on this side of the pond, but back in the US of A, we don't sit back and let social climbers like you get to the highest rung. Just to be clear, you're posher than I am, but don't you dare think for one second that I can't squish you under the heel of my Jimmy Choo. You don't know anything about me, including who my daddy is, but if I were you," Jasmine steps closer to Clara, speaking into her ear so that only those closest could hear. "I'd sleep with one eye open."

With that, Jasmine pushed passed Clara and stomped her way down the remainder of the hallway, turning left into my office when she saw the nameplate on the door. Throwing my now-empty coffee cup in the nearest bin, I pulled my suit jacket over my stained shirt and quickly marched into my office. Jasmine had already made herself comfortable on the sofa that was pushed up on the wall opposite my desk, the contents of her work bag strewn across the mahogany table the separates the sofa from the two matching arm chairs.

My office is rather masculine in style and is in contrast to most of the other offices that were in this building. I had modelled mine on my grandfather's home office, a room I had spent years in as a child. The office has a large mahogany desk, several book cases filled with law publications, a few pieces of artwork that hung on the grey walls as well as the matching upholstered seating. There was an internal door just behind the main one into my office, where my private bathroom was situated.

I threw down my briefcase on the desk and made my way to the bathroom, where I had several sets of clothes hanging behind the door. Closing the door on Jasmine, I set about changing from my original suit and throwing on another. However, as I turned, I saw that I had no clean suit, only a pair of dark blue jeans and a white t-shirt. It was the outfit I'd change into at the end of a Saturday just as I was running out of the office and going to watch Nola's football game. Groaning, I peel off my soiled shirt and pull on my t-shirt. Five minutes later, with clean clothes on, I unlock the bathroom door and return to the office space, only to see Jasmine and Evelyn sitting together, gossiping.

"He's always been clueless," I hear Evelyn say to Jasmine. "Honestly, he's intelligent but he has zero common sense."

"That I'd believe," Jasmine nodded emphatically. When she saw that I had returned, she turned her nose up at me and ignored my presence. "What can you tell me about his brother?"

"Samuel?" Evelyn frowned. As much as Evelyn had heard me speak ill of my brother, she still protected him and was wary of women who would sniff around him. "I would tell you to be very careful around Samuel."

"Because he'll break my heart?" Jasmine asked. She gave a small laugh. "I can take care of myself."

Evelyn stood, smoothing out her pencil skirt and readjusting the silver watch on her wrist. "It's not that," she said, her voice harsh as she spoke. "There's a reason Samuel is an arsehole and he's put up walls around him. I'm not worried about you getting hurt, I worry about him getting hurt. If that every happens, I'll hunt down the woman and let her know exactly why you don't mess with anyone from my family." Evelyn beams at Jasmine, but it's more threatening than it is polite. "It was pleasant meeting you. Daniel," she looks to me. "I'm just outside the door if you need me. For anything."

I nod. Evelyn closed the door quietly after her, leaving Jasmine and I alone together. I worked silently on the computer for the next hour, researching my notes and revising the contracts that I had drawn up for a client. Thankfully, Jasmine kept silent during this time. The only noise that came over from the sofa was the pinging of Jasmine's phone as messages were received. I'd look up whenever the noise was heard, the inevitable feeling of annoyance rise inside me, but I never asked Jasmine to turn the sound off.

She was constantly working. For minutes after the phone rang, she would fire out a reply and make notes. Once, she left the office to make a call, only to return fifteen minutes later looking thoroughly put out by something. Add to this the fact that she was also working on finalising details for her and Sophie's fundraiser idea, it seemed as if Jasmine's day was only going to get busier. It was almost eleven in the morning now, in London, which meant that her working day in New York City had barely started. I could only imagine how her phone would blow up in a couple of hours.

"If you'd like, you can use the conference room across the hall," I say, looking up at Jasmine. She wears a frown as she reads something on her mobile phone, her lips twitching in anger. She sighs and drops the phone on top of a stack of papers, her eyes lifting to mine. I squirm under her hardened gaze. "I mean, if I'm annoying you or if you need a bigger desk, the conference room might be better. I'll organise a laptop for you too, so if you need to catch up with work in New York, you can do so from there."

She stares at me for a long second, probably wondering why I was being so nice to her. Ever since she arrived in London she had done everything in her power to piss me off, which she'd done a stellar job of, but at the end of the day, I was too nice to hold a grudge against her. Even if she lied to me and made me think she could only drink water and eat air.

"Actually," Jasmine says slowly, almost like speaking half-decently to me is painful. She slouched, somewhat, in defeat. "A desk and internet access would be great. Plus, the conference room would be an ideal place to have our meeting later."

Nodding, I stand up and help Jasmine collect all her paperwork. As I shuffle the documents together, I see several articles, including a printed out version of the one Sophie wrote about me. Unlike the version Sophie forwarded to me, this one had some photos placed amongst the words. I tired to angle my head so that I could get a better look at it, but it was snatched out from under my nose by Jasmine.

"Why do you carry that around with you?" I asked, handing her the paper that I'd collated and put into a nice, neat pile.

"Because I'm the one who proofread the damn thing," Jasmine told me. She threw the papers into her work bag and stood, making sure her skirt wasn't crumpled. She threw the strap of her bag over her shoulder and made her way to the door. "Do you know how sickening it was to read Sophie gushing all over you? Even after what you did, she still thought the sun shone out of your ass."

I chose not to say anything. I led her out the door before escorting her across the hall and into the conference room. No one used this room apart from me so I knew that Jasmine would have peace and quiet while working. I signalled for Evelyn to follow, asking her to supply a laptop for Jasmine. I helped get the make shift office set up but quickly left.

With Jasmine out of my office, I worked solidly for the next hour or two, finishing making amendments to the pre-nup that I was working on. I e-mailed a copy of the contract to one of the interns to fact check then switched off the computer and cracking the knuckles on my hands. I took a few minutes to mentally prepare myself for an afternoon with Jasmine, letting out a long breath of air before I finally went to the conference room.

"Fancy some lunch?" I asked Jasmine from the doorway of the conference room. She looked up at me, wearing tortoiseshell hipster glasses, and nodded. Her attention went back to whatever she was reading, the pen in her hand twiddling between her long,manicured fingers. "Was there anything you wanted?"

"Sushi," she mindlessly answered.

I smirked at her slip up. "And here I was, thinking that you were allergic to fish."

"Only on Thursdays and Fridays," she laughed. "Seeing as today is a Saturday, I think I'll be ok."

After giving Evelyn our order, Jasmine motioned for me to sit, taking out a binder for me and sliding it towards me. I flipped to the first page and read. Jasmine and Sophie had clearly done a lot of work compiling all the information in the binder. They already had a confirmation e-mail from the Victoria and Albert Museum, agreeing to host a fashion exhibit, should the Courtenay Foundation wish to move forward with their plans. Another e-mail confirmed that a chef named François Clément- a relative of Sophie's, I supposed- would be more than happy to cater the event. Messages from various designers, including Dior, Givenchy, Chanel and Balmain stated that their fashion houses would welcome an event that show cased rare pieces from their by-gone collections. The longer I looked, the more that it became obvious that the girls had thought everything through. There was even a list of possible sponsors that had shown interest in the fundraiser.

"How long have you and Soph worked on this?" I eventually asked, looking up at Jasmine. Her attention was on the screen of the laptop, a crease between her eyebrows. I peered around to see what had Jasmine acting like this, only to see an SOS e-mail from Sophie on the screen. "Is she ok?"

Instinctively, I pull out my phone and dialled her number from memory. Sophie answers on the second ring. "Now is not the time, Daniel."

"I've just seen the SOS message you sent Jasmine," I tell her, worry seeping into my voice. "Is everything ok?"

"It will be once Jasmine can tell me what the hell I'm supposed to do with this stupid e-mail!" Sophie's irritated voice comes down the line.

I motion for Jasmine and hand over the phone, mouthing, "Sophie."

Jasmine gratefully takes the phone and presses it to her ear. "Ok, boss, what do you need?" She asked, a pen in her hand and a note pad at the ready. I watched as she listened intently, furiously scribbling notes as Sophie ranted. I could hear her voice through the speaker, the anger in her voice increasing the longer she spoke, but if Jasmine was affected, she didn't show it. She nodded, dutifully wrote and made a few 'mhm' noises as she agreed with Sophie. Finally, she spoke. "Leave it with me."

Jasmine passed the phone back to me before picking up her own phone and leaving the room. Watching through the glass wall, I saw her go to my office, slamming the door behind her. I stifled a laugh as Evelyn jumped, her hand over her heart. With a smile, I picked up the phone. "Soph, are you ok?"

"Stupid people piss me off," she sighed. "People keep asking me about stuff and I have no idea what is going on. Jasmine is my lifeline and without her, I feel like I'm drowning. Anyway, enough about me and my melt down, how's things going with you and Jasmine?"

"I haven't seen much of her," I admit. Sitting back in the chair, I get comfortable, shifting my t-shirt up slightly, placing my palm on my stomach as I talk. "She's been really busy working all morning. Her phone literally has not stopped and then she's been e-mailing. She's given me your proposal for the fundraiser and we're about to discuss it. Or we were before you e-mailed."

"So, you're no longer fighting?" Sophie asks, her voice full of hope. "You're getting along?"

I nod to myself. "Well, like I said, we haven't seen much of each other but she did come to my rescue this morning."

Sophie laughs. "Your rescue? What happened?"

I recount the story of Clara bumping into me and then trying to unbutton my shirt. Sophie sounded pissed off with that slight piece of information, but in the next second she was howling with laughter when I told her what Jasmine had said to Clara.

"It was funny," I admit with a smile on my face. "But at the same time, it really wasn't. I was practically sexually harassed in the workplace!"

"Oh, poor baby," Sophie teased. Her melodic laughter filled my ears once again. "What did you think of the fundraising idea?"

"I loved it," I tell her honestly. "This François Clément, any relation?"

"Told you I had a Michelin starred uncle, didn't I?" She says in her know-it-all voice, making me roll my eyes. "I've called in a lot of favours to make this fundraiser happen. Uncles, aunts, mothers, friends, friends of friends... There's no one that I haven't blackmailed to help me out with this."

Jasmine came back into the room, stealing the phone from my ear. "Boss?" She said into the handset. "Ok, so I called Steve and he said that I needed to speak to Elaine. I spoke to Elaine and she said that Sahar was the model on set that day, which means that Raquelle was the one that was supposed to be on set, too. Raquelle, however,  has missed the last seven shoots because of this stomach flu that is apparently going around. So," Jasmine sighed, sitting down in her previous seat. "I did some social media stalking and I think I know what's happened to Raquelle. She's pregnant. If we take into account the time line, I think I know who the baby-daddy is but you are not going to be happy when you hear the name. Like, really not happy.

"That's not the point though," Jasmine wafts the air with her hand, shaking her head as she recollects her thoughts. "So, I spoke to the photographer from Sahar's shoot and he told me that the diamonds were defeinitely in the box at the end of the shoot. The bodyguards even checked the inventory. We're ok on our end, but when I went back to Steve to let him know, do you know what he said?" There was a pause. I assume that Sophie answered, because Jasmine shook her head. "No, he said that the jeweller had been back on the phone and that those particular earrings weren't even at the shoot. We only had the necklace from the collection. The earrings were with some up-and-coming actress while she was walking the red carpet at a premier in LA. So, panic over."

Jasmine winces. "I really don't think you want to know, Sophie," she says quietly. "Please, don't make me... but, Sophie... fine! I'll tell you. Hugo." A long pause ensues. Jasmine nods, holding the phone back to me. "She wants to talk to you."

I press the phone to my ear, only to hear Sophie say the dreaded words. "Daniel, I have to go. I'm really sorry, but Hugo's majorly fucked up and I need to sort it out. I'm sorry, baboon."

"It's fine, Soph," I tell her. "Do what you need to do, 'gator. Love you, bye."

Sophie says the words back to me before the line goes dead. I set the phone on the desk, turning my attention back to the fundraiser binder. "I like what you two-"

"I hate you," Jasmine says, cutting off my words. I look at her, wondering what I've done wrong now. Am I about to be blamed for the drought in California last year? She shakes her head. I quirk my eyebrow at her. "No, that's all. I just hate you."

Before I get the chance to argue with her, or ask her to elaborate, the conference room door opens and Evelyn walks in with the lunch we'd ordered previously. She sets out the sushi, her eyes darting from Jasmine to me and then back again. Once all the food is out, Evelyn nods.

"Right," she says from the doorway as she readies herself to exit. "Are you two safe together, or shall I have security on stand-by?"

I look to Jasmine for the answer. I knew that I could contain myself, but there was no telling about what Jasmine would do. "No," she finally says. Jasmine gives me a hard to decipher look. "I think Daniel and I will do just fine."

God, I hope she didn't just lie to Evelyn. That could end badly for both of us.