He certainly doesn’t mean the game. “Think so?” He’s been cool and collected. The only other guy to leave his companion the whole night. It doesn’t take much to figure out he’s the gambler who was trying to give me competition.
“Hell yeah.” He sits back in his chair. “You put up a good fight.”
I should take the compliment, because Jasmine was my prize. But the guy irritates the hell out of me. While I wasn’t the only one to bid on her, he’s the one person I can pick out from the auction. “I came here for one thing, and I wasn’t going to lose.”
He scoffs. “Girl wasn’t on the preview. How’d you manage that?”
“Last minute addition.”
“Mind if I ask her name?” he says, casually.
Anger and jealousy mount. “Doesn’t matter,” I say, without question.
“Well, it might matter to her.” He tilts his head, his expression laced with humor. “I was thinking about hanging around town for a couple of days.”
She’s not mine, but I sure as hell don’t want this asshole to have her. “You—”
He turns in his chair and gives a big grin. “Well, hey, darlin’.”
I glance back to find Jasmine standing behind me. “May I speak to you in private?”
16
Jasmine
His words are echoing in my head. When I went into his suite, he knew who I was right away. I thought my name was on the screen, but if the other guy didn’t know, that means Chase didn’t either. He knew. The thought digs into my brain.
I follow him to the balcony. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice neutral.
“How did you know it was me when I walked in the room the other night?” I whisper, trying not to call attention to the conversation.
He doesn’t answer immediately. The longer he delays, the more my stomach twists into a knot. I thought the line I saw on Nina’s screen was my name. At least my first name. But if the whole thing is anonymous, how did he recognize me when I couldn’t recognize myself in the mirror?
“I’d bought—”
“The right to use my body.” I give a sharp nod. “You don’t have to remind me of what Nina said. That doesn’t answer my question.” When I walked into the suite, I was too shocked at seeing him there to even think of questioning anything. Then I was too nervous to think past what was going to happen. The girls had said he was a rich businessman, so the money he paid didn’t send up any flags. Now that things have settled down, I have to know. “How did you find out about the auction?”
“I was doing research for a venture,” he replies. The simple answer means he was hacking and found it in someone’s hard drive.
“And this venture just provided all the information about a private auction?” Staying calm with this looming over me isn’t working.
“Not quite.”
“So you worked your way into this venture just for the auction?”
“Yes.” He looks me square in the eye. “I saw what I wanted and found a way to get it.”
His answer peppers me like a shower of sparks. It. I’m nothing more than an object to him. Now he’s done, and things go on like nothing happened. This wouldn’t be as bad if we were strangers, but he knows me. We’ve talked and debated and argued for months. Yet he chose to objectify me and doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by it.
“Nina said I was recommended,” I state. The muscle at his jaw flexes. “It was you, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“You hacked me.” I don’t have to ask the question when I already know the answer.
“Yes.” It’s still the same stoic expression.
Then a horrible thought occurs to me. “Did you mess with my financial aid?”
“No.” He sticks a hand in his pocket. “But it wouldn’t have been hard.”
The calm note in his voice sends reality rolling down my insides. Nina’s words ringing in my ears. We get all kinds. Only this one knew me. If he truly wanted something with me, why didn’t he just ask me out? Instead, he thought it would be easier to get me to spread my legs for him if there was money involved.
“No, no, no, no, no.” I put my palm up and shake my head. “I can’t believe this.”
“Jasmine.” He clamps a hand around my wrist.
“You’re the most self-centered, egotistical asshole I’ve ever met.” His hold loosens. “I dismissed her offer. Then agonized over the decision when I found out I was hours away from being homeless and broke.” I yank my wrist out of his grasp. “But even knowing what I was getting into, I never felt like a whore…until right now.”
I turn, with as much dignity as I can, and walk away.
17
Jasmine
I sniff, pressing the tissue to my nose. This is eerily familiar. Feeling like a fool for something I believe in or someone I lo…
I cut the thought off, refusing to go there.
Enough. I can’t hide in the bathroom forever. I should never have started down this road. What can I possibly expect? Nina made it clear this isn’t a date. Well, then there’s nothing keeping me here. I pull back the lock on the stall door and go straight to the sink.
Splashing water on my face, I soap up my hands and wash away the makeup that took me so long to apply. How many times did I second-guess myself, trying to do my best with little practice? Turning the faucet, I run my index finger across my chin so I can keep the expensive dress from getting wet.
I exhale, gathering my courage, and catch my reflection in the gilded mirror. The usual me stares back. No eyeliner, no blended colors to create a smokey-eye look. Just plain old Jasmine Rocha. The same girl who’s had to wash up in a convenience store bathroom because the water was cut off when mom couldn’t, or wouldn’t, pay the bill.
I made it then. I’ll make it now.
The tension leaves my shoulders. There’s no turning back from this moment. But I never should have reached it to begin with. I took the easy way out, afraid to go through hardship again. But the struggles from my childhood taught me some valuable lessons and made me who I am. I can’t be sorry about those times.
Squaring my shoulders, I pull the door open and march out. I’m pushing through the front door when I realize I can’t get into the room. And I can’t walk out of here in this dress. The guy who stood outside my door is standing nearby. He watches me approach, his gaze covering me from head to foot, his expression carefully neutral.
“Can you call Nina for me?”
He gives a sharp nod and brings up his wrist. “Nina, I need to speak to you.”
A minute later, she appears at the door. Eyes widening, she puts a hand to my forearm, searching my face. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to get my things from the room,” I say, not offering further explanation.
She glances behind her, unsettled. I can’t really blame her; this is her job, after all. “Let’s talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Nina.” I wet my lips. “I’m not going to cause a scene. I just need to go.”