Don’t Love, Don’t Lose

“You’re a beautiful woman, Jasmine. And an intriguing one. You can’t be surprised that I want you.”

She drew a deep, shuddering breath.

“I don’t get close to people, Anthony. I don’t let people get close. I don’t let anything or anybody get close. I have Aunt Della, and I have Rita. That’s all I need. That’s all I can let myself need. If you get close to people, if you let them get close to you, either you hurt them or they hurt you. It’s in our nature, I think. I don’t think we can help it. We can’t do much about it. People are disappointments and constantly disappointed. That’s why I prefer computers. They’re predictable. They do what you want them to do, as long as you know how to ask them right. Now I have two cats, and I have… I don’t know what to do.”

Anthony nodded slowly.

“I see. You don’t want anything to do with me.”

“I don’t want to want to have anything to do with you. That’s a different thing altogether. I don’t know what to do about any of this. I don’t know how to deal with any of this. But I have to find out, I have to figure out a way somehow, and it terrifies me. It terrifies me, Tony!”

It was the first time she had admitted that, said it out loud, and now that she had, it filled the room. Her fear filled everything.

“What are you trying to tell me to do?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what I want you to do. I don’t know what I need myself to do, either. But I think… I think we need to slow down, one way or another. I think we need to take a break. We need to work together, and only work together, for a while, Tony.”

She couldn’t really believe the words tumbling out of her mouth. Was that what she wanted?

He had been so sweet, and so helpful. He had done everything she could have asked for. He had done more than that. It had been a wonderful evening, and if it hadn’t been for Quinn, she knew where she would be right at that moment.

Instead, there she was, standing there and facing a man who was better than most men, and telling him that she needed him to leave her alone.

What was wrong with her, indeed!

“If that’s what you want,” said Anthony stiffly, and he turned away from her.

Was it possible to see hurt in the line of somebody’s shoulders? She imagined she could.

It was too late. She watched Anthony walk away and realized that it was too late.

She had wanted to avoid getting hurt, and causing hurt. She had wanted that because she’d been a coward. She was a coward. But instead, she had caused hurt. She watched as Anthony opened the door, walked out, and let it close behind him.

Let him go, she told herself, and anyway, she couldn’t have stopped him. It felt as if her legs had stopped listening to her brain. She couldn’t move, anyway.

Let him go.

It was better that way. She would finish whatever was left of the project, and that would be that. He would be out of her life. He would be Aunt Della’s employer, and that would be it. He wouldn’t be a part of her life.

Soon, he would leave and go back to New York, too. That wasn’t where she belonged.

Jasmine thought back to all the beautiful women she had seen on his arm in all those paparazzi photos. She could never compare to any of them. She could never compete with any of them.

She didn’t want to, either.

Comfort – she needed comfort.

There was only one place where she knew she could find comfort, for sure. She could forget about everything else, and let herself be buried in the problem. There, she knew her way. She knew the twists and turns, she knew how to get through walls and find doors, build doors and windows where there were none. She knew how to make the code do what she wanted it to do.

She knew what to do there. She wasn’t incompetent there.

Frustrated, Jasmine strode over to her work station and sat down. She covered her face with her hands for one long moment before taking a deep breath to steady herself.

And then she started.

This time, she didn’t ask questions. She just went by feel, looking in directions that her instincts told her needed looking. She went deeper into the temp agency, and found the trail she had missed before. How had she missed it before? She’d been distracted, too distracted.

She’d let her work suffer because her attention had wandered.

It wouldn’t happen again. The trail was there now. It was barely breadcrumbs, but she could follow it because she was that good. She could follow it.

Slowly, steadily, she followed the money to what she immediately recognized as a shell company. She went from there, stalking with the patience of a predator, and found another shell company.

She was sure that they weren’t paying any taxes. But even for tax avoidance, this was elaborate. Far too elaborate.

She followed, steadily, stealthily, without leaving a trace behind because she was that good. Finally, after going through four false ends, she reached the real end of the trail.

There she had it. She had it in front of her.

Richard Sanders had funneled money into that temp agency.

There was her connection, solid and real.