Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Jasmine

Liam makes the introductions. “Jasmine, this is my sister-in-law, Beth, and these are her kids, Ava and Luke. And this is Sam—a family friend; he and Cooper live here, too.” Liam nods to the older guy in the kitchen. “Guys, this is Jasmine.”

“We’re so happy you could come,” Beth says to me. She’s holding an infant, Ava, in her arms. Luke, a toddler, stands next to the redhead, Sam, clutching Sam’s jeans.

Beth is wearing a pale blue linen dress that matches her pale blue-green eyes. Her long blonde hair is pulled back in a ponytail. “I hope you’ll stay for dinner.”

The silver-haired guy walks out of the kitchen drying his hands on a hand towel. He nods to me. “Hello, young lady. You must be Jasmine. Welcome.”

“Cooper is the resident chef, among other things,” Liam says.

My throat tightens, and I feel a bit overwhelmed. All these people—these strangers—are welcoming me into their home. They don’t even know me. “Thanks,” I say, doing my best to smile and not look awkward as hell. I don’t know how to act around people like these, nice people.

Behind us, back in the lobby, the elevator pings as the doors whoosh open. In walk two men, one dressed in jeans and a sweater, the other dressed in a black suit and tie, white dress shirt. He’s carrying a briefcase and wearing a Rolex on his wrist. I’m guessing he’s the attorney.

“Hello, Jasmine,” says the man in the blue jeans. He’s handsome, with his short brown hair and trim beard. His eyes are an amazing electric blue. “I’m Shane McIntyre. And this is my friend and attorney, Troy Spencer. He’s going to help you.” Shane glances toward the one named Sam. “Would you mind babysitting the steaks up on the roof while the four of us talk in my office? They’re just about done.”

The redhead nods. “Sure thing.”

I follow Liam and the other two men down a hallway to an office. We walk inside, and Shane closes the door behind us.

“Have a seat, everyone,” Shane says, pointing to a small round table with four chairs.

We all sit, and my pulse goes into overdrive.

“Ms. Grant,” the lawyer says as he opens a thin black laptop computer and starts typing. Troy Spencer looks like a lawyer in his designer suit and tie. His dark hair is short, and his dark eyes seem to miss nothing. “My understanding is we need to obtain a copy of your birth certificate and your social security number. That won’t be any problem. Shall we start with some basic information, such as name and birthdate?”

“Jasmine Olivia Grant,” I say.

“I’ve got your birthday down as March 28. Is that right?” Then he rattles off the year I was born.

“Yes.”

“And where were you born?” he asks.

“Here in Chicago. In Englewood.”

“Do you remember which hospital?”

I pause to think. “I think it’s called St. Bernard Hospital.”

I watch as the attorney makes note of the information.

“First we’ll get your birth certificate,” the man says. “That can be expedited, and we should have it in two to three business days. Once we have that, Jasmine will need a state-issued ID with her photo on it. That, along with the birth certificate, will be enough for her to get her social security card. That takes one to two weeks to receive.”

Shane McIntyre nods. “Fine. Would you take care of that, Troy?”

“Absolutely. I’ll get on it first thing in the morning.”

About the time we’re finished, there’s a knock on the office door. The door opens, and Beth pops her head in to tell us dinner is ready.

We leave the office and head back to the big room. The redhead is setting the table. “Dinner’s ready,” he says with a grin. “Everybody grab a chair.”

Shane puts the little boy in a high chair at one end of the table and straps him in. Beth lays the baby in a cradle near the table. Everyone else takes a seat.

Liam pulls a seat out for me. “Thanks,” I mutter. I can’t help feeling self-conscious. These people know what I do—did—for a living, and yet no one is giving me the stink eye or even staring at my battered face.

In addition to the steaks, we have huge baked potatoes loaded with butter and sour cream and shredded cheese. We have salad and warm dinner rolls and steamed broccoli. And to drink, a bottle of red wine is passed around the table. There’s plenty of coffee and soft drinks and water.

It’s surreal. Everyone’s so calm and easy going—one big happy family. Shane cuts up the little boy’s food. When the baby wakes up and starts fussing, the silver-haired guy—Cooper—gets up from his seat and brings the baby to the table, cradling her in one arm while he eats with this free hand.

I don’t belong here.

I don’t know why they’d even want me here.

“Is everything okay?” Liam whispers as he leans close. “Are you all right?” He starts to reach out—to lay his hand on my knee, I think—but he changes his mind and pulls his hand back.

Of course, he did. He wouldn’t want his family to see him touching a ho at the dinner table.

My throat tightens as I nod. “Yeah, fine.”

After the meal, Cooper serves a homemade cheesecake with strawberry topping. We have coffee with our cheesecake. Sam steals Luke from his high chair and sits him on his lap so he can help feed him his dessert. Shane holds the baby.

After everyone’s done eating, we move to the living room. I sit on a sofa beside Liam. There are two sofas and several armchairs, so there’s room for everyone.

The little boy brings me a toy camera and hands it to me. He says something I can’t quite make out.

“He wants you to take some pictures,” Sam says to me. “That’s his favorite toy.”

I gaze through the viewfinder on the camera and pretend to take pictures of Luke. He raids his toy basket and brings back a stuffed kitten and a red race car. He surprises me by climbing up into my lap.

Liam leans close and says, “I think you’ve made a new friend.”

Shane hands the baby to the attorney, who’s seated in one of the armchairs. “Here, you’re on baby duty while I man the bar.”

“I don’t know the first thing about babies,” Troy says, looking more than a little freaked out as he gazes down at the tiny baby girl in his arms.

Shane winks at him. “It’s never too late to learn, pal. You never know when it will come in handy.”

Everyone laughs good naturedly at Troy’s discomfort. Even though he says he doesn’t know anything about babies, Ava doesn’t seem to mind. She seems perfectly content in his arms.

* * *

As Liam and I head back down to his apartment, he asks me if I had a good time. “I hope you weren’t bored.”

“No,” I say. “Not at all. It was really nice. Your family is very welcoming.”

He nods. “I might be a bit biased, but I think they’re pretty awesome. Wait until you meet the rest of the family.”

It’s after nine when we finally crash in his living room. We both changed into more comfortable clothes—I’m in my plaid flannel PJ bottoms and top. He changed into a pair of gray sweats and a black Kung Fu T-shirt. He sits on the sofa, and I curl up with a blanket on the armchair.

“You thirsty?” Liam asks as he gets up and heads for the kitchen. “I’m grabbing a beer. Can I get you anything?”

“Sparkling water, please?”

“Sure thing.” He disappears through the kitchen door. “Troy said he’d have your ID early in the week.”

“That’s great.” I say the words because I think they’re expected, but I don’t really care. I don’t know what good ID will do a prostitute.

“There’s a lot we need to do to get you on the right track,” he says from the other room. “Study for the GED exam is one thing. You can study online and take practice exams. When you feel ready, you can take the actual exam to get your certificate.”

“If I pass.”

“Yes, if you pass. Did you like school? Before?”

I shrug. “It was all right. It was kinda hard to study at home, though, with Mom’s clients coming and going at all hours.”

“How were your grades?”

“They were good. Like I said, it was hard to do anything at home, like homework or study or write papers.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “I can tutor you if you need help.”

“Then what?” I ask.

“You mean after you get your GED? Then you’ll have a choice to make. Do you want to get a job or continue your education? Go to a trade school or college?”

I look at him like he’s nuts. “Me? Go to college?”

“If you want to, yes.”

“I can’t do that. I literally have no money.”

“Don’t worry about the money. We’ll figure that out when the time comes.”

Liam suggests we watch a movie until bedtime.

“Okay,” I say. I tuck my feet up on the chair and wrap the blanket around me.

I’ve never in my life stayed in such a nice place, with such nice furniture. It’s chilly outside, and the wind is howling tonight, and yet it’s perfectly warm and cozy in Liam’s apartment. I don’t think he realizes how nice he has it. I can’t count the number of times we lost electricity or water when I was a kid because Mom spent our money on drugs or alcohol.

Liam brings out a bowl of popcorn, along with cold soft drinks, and puts on a movie for us to watch. We decide to go with the second movie in The Hunger Games series. I still can’t believe they made movies of some of my favorite books.

The day catches up with me quickly, and I find it hard to keep my eyes open. I lean my head back on the chair cushion and fight to stay awake.

“Jasmine?”

I must have dozed off, because the next thing I realize the movie is paused, and Liam’s crouching down beside my chair.

“You’re exhausted,” he says. “Why don’t you go to bed? We can finish the movie another time.”

Stifling a yawn, I sit upright. “That sounds like a good idea.” I turn to face him and catch him studying my face. Self-consciously, I bring my fingers up to touch my still-bruised face. And then the bandage on my temple. “Can I take this off now?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

I try to pull the bandage off, but it’s stuck tight to my skin. “Ouch.”

“Here, let me.” He stands and leans close so he can gently peel the bandage off.

When he’s successful, he steps back, putting space between us. “How’s that? It’s healing nicely, but you’ll probably have a little scar.”

I laugh. “It won’t be the first.” My body is covered with scars.

I toss off the blanket and swing my feet to the floor. “I guess I’ll turn in now.”

Liam steps back again when I stand, making sure to put plenty of space between us. It’s weird. Usually I have to fight guys off. They want nothing more than to put their hands, or their mouths, on me. Liam seems quite the opposite. I wonder if he’s gay. Or maybe he’s just not attracted to me. Or maybe he’s disgusted because of what I am.

I head to the bathroom to get ready for bed. When I come out into the hallway, I spot Liam in the living room making up his bed on the sofa. He changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top, giving me a clear view of his arms and shoulders. His muscles are so well defined, his shoulders broad. His legs are long, dusted with body hair. His feet are barefoot.

Damn, he’s good looking. Why doesn’t he have a significant other in his life? I can’t imagine anyone turning him down.

I watch him shake out a sheet and lay it on the sofa. Then he tosses a pillow to one end and drops a blanket at the other end. He runs his fingers through his hair and blows out a heavy breath. Probably he’s irked that he has to sleep on the sofa. I wouldn’t blame him.

“You should sleep in your own bed,” I tell him as I walk into the living room. “I can take the sofa. I don’t mind, really. It’s way better than what I slept on at the house.”

He turns to me. “No, don’t be silly. You take the bed. I’ll be fine on the sofa.”

This guy is too nice for his own good.

“Do you need anything else tonight?” he asks me.

I shake my head. “I’m fine, thanks.”

He smiles. “Goodnight, Jasmine.”

I disappear into his bedroom, close the door, and climb into bed with my new amazing, life-changing Kindle.