“Again, why?”
“Well, I doubt this will make you feel any better about my snooping, but we happen to have taken a special interest in Jasmine Harden.”
Royce wasn’t above digging for his own information. This he wanted to hear. “My event planner?”
Don cocked his head to one side. “Is that all she is?”
“You tell me. You’re the one hunting for info.”
“Touché. You’ve just never been known to date much. She’s never dated any of her clients.”
This was getting more bizarre by the minute, but the fact that Don was concerned about Jasmine oddly reassured Royce. “I guess the real question is—is there a problem with anything you found out?” He might as well know if his history was about to stand in the way of his future.
“You’ve done very well for yourself—and in the best way possible. The only complaint I could find out about your company, or you for that matter, is that it isn’t very child friendly.”
“It’s a business.” Not a day care. But, for once, he kept that part to himself.
“I get that,” Don conceded. “And a better understanding of a healthy work environment and happy employees will come to you with more life experience—but it’s not a concern for us when it comes to doing business with you.”
The proposal.
Don continued, “I’ll be honest. I was skeptical at first. You see, we believe business should have a soul.”
Royce shot his host a questioning look. The phrase sounded vaguely familiar. Royce wondered if it was something he’d read on Don’s company website.
Luckily, Don was willing to enlighten him. “We believe that all of our business efforts should be done with our fellow man in mind wherever possible—helping take care of those who can’t, keeping the environment stable and as unharmed by our work as possible, providing safe working conditions—and by extension, creating better living conditions for those who can’t afford to do that for themselves.”
Okay, this sounded familiar. The Jeffersons’ company was known for its environmental stewardship and humanitarian working policies, in addition to its philanthropic efforts.
“When you first applied,” Don continued, “I didn’t believe this was a philosophy you readily embraced, despite your own efforts to make your shipping company as environmentally friendly as possible. Don’t get me wrong—you’ve accomplished incredible things at a very young age.”
Don grinned at Royce. “I can say that from my very advanced age and not sound Scroogy.
“Then I found out about your work with Jasmine. I know you have a charity event you are planning together. One we are much looking forward to, by the way. Sounds exciting.”
Royce relaxed—a little. “Isn’t anything Jasmine plans exciting?”
“Just about...” Don smiled. “She’s an incredibly talented woman.”
That was an understatement. Royce had learned more about the hidden depths of Jasmine Harden than he’d ever dreamed he would. She was smart, sexy, bold yet gracious, tenacious and amusing. And the first woman he’d ever wanted to stick around for longer than a night.
“My concern might sound a little old-fashioned. But I would never presume to insist that you marry her or stay with her. That’s not anybody’s place,” Don conceded.
Royce acknowledged the sentiment with a nod.
“But she doesn’t have a father present, and Marilyn and I are friends of hers, so I do feel a bit of a responsibility to request that you treat her decently. That’s all any of us can expect.”
“It’s what any woman deserves,” Royce said tightly, thinking of the man in the other room.
Don’s nod was slow, almost contemplative. But Royce sensed it had nothing to do with studying him to get more inside information. Instead, the wisdom in Don’s mature gaze told Royce he had more than an inkling about the hardships and poverty he’d suffered as a child...and why.
“I agree,” Don finally said. “I’m glad to know we’re on the same page.”
* * *
Jasmine realized she was in for it when Marilyn smiled her way and asked, “So, Royce Brazier, huh?”
The older woman nodded sagely when Jasmine didn’t answer right away. Instead she snagged them each a pretty mimosa off a passing waiter’s tray. Jasmine sipped, grateful to have something to occupy her.
Under normal circumstances, she had no problem talking with Marilyn. They could cover a wide range of subjects without running out of steam. This time, she tried to act cool, but the blood rushed to her cheeks, anyway. She’d never discussed Royce like this outside of her family—and at home she was mainly deflecting her sisters’ teasing.
His father standing across the room made her even more uncomfortable. She twisted the emerald ring round and round her finger until Marilyn laid a hand over hers. Jasmine met the older woman’s understanding gaze.
“How did you know?” she asked.
Marilyn’s expression showed delight that she’d guessed correctly. “I have a feeling about people. He isn’t the first male client you’ve brought to our little get-togethers, but he’s the first one you’ve looked at like that. Or who has looked at you the same way.”
Suddenly Jasmine’s mouth felt like a desert. She took a quick sip of the fizzy drink. “Like what?” she asked, almost afraid of the answer. So far, there’d been no one to see her with Royce except her sisters. And they were biased.
“Like he discovered a diamond in the midst of his sandbox. I remember.” She leaned her head a little closer to confide, “Don looked at me that way, too.”
“Really?”
Marilyn raised her glass. “I was his secretary,” she said, then took a drink.
“No,” Jasmine breathed. Somehow, she’d never thought to ask how Marilyn and Don had met. She’d just assumed Marilyn came from an upper-class family that wasn’t from around here.
“Oh, yes, sweetheart. I married way above my class, which ended up being the scandal of the year. No one would mention it now, but they weren’t afraid to criticize then. To Don’s face, no less.”
“I can’t imagine.” Jasmine felt privileged Marilyn was actually bringing up something this personal. “That must have been incredibly difficult.”
“Don wasn’t as powerful then—but he also wasn’t as diplomatic. Or patient.” Her smile was gracious, knowing. “People aren’t quick to learn, you know. And Don doesn’t enjoy repeating himself.”
Jasmine doubted Royce would jeopardize his client relations to defend her like that, though she knew he wouldn’t allow others to be disrespectful. She had no idea where his happy medium would be between the two stances—and had no desire to find out.
As if on cue, Royce’s father appeared beside Marilyn. He wasn’t as tall as his son, but their bearing was the same. Straight spine. Squared shoulders. Royce always looked as if he were bracing himself against whatever the world dared throw at him. His biological father looked like he knew what was coming and was prepared to take the hit. The gray creeping into his sandy hair reinforced the impression.
John Nave greeted them both but his eyes were trained on Jasmine. She shivered. Therein lay a key difference between the two men. Royce might be focused on his business, but his expression was still open. His father’s was cold and closed down tight, not letting even a glimpse