“That will be fine. Just have those names ready for me Monday morning,” he said, barely taking the time to look at her.
Jasmine grabbed her things and rushed out the door. She swung by her office and put together what she’d need over the weekend and was out to her car within fifteen minutes.
Jasmine walked in the door of her home and calmly set her belongings down. She called her father’s number and waited for the voice mail to beep. “Dad, this is Jasmine and this will be my last call to you. Andy got fired today and said some things to me. If you said them then you’ll know what I’m talking about and you don’t even need to bother to call me back, because I will not want to speak to you again. If you didn’t say these vicious things, then you need to call me and explain why Andy would say you did. If I don’t hear from you tonight, then I guess that’s my answer,” she spoke unemotionally and hung up.
She let herself have a hard cry, hoping to hear from her father. She’d always thought he was a hero and the reality of her recent discoveries wasn’t pleasant. She was being crushed with the whole take-over business. Learning her father wasn’t who she always thought he was seemed unbearable.
The phone rang a couple hours later and she was reluctant to pick it up. She squared her shoulders and lifted the handle, quietly saying hello.
“It’s your father,” he said curtly.
“Dad, what’s going on? You haven’t called me. You just disappeared and now I’m hearing all this information that can’t possibly be true,” she said, trying to keep her tone normal. Her father hated displays of emotion.
“I heard you’ve gotten cozy with the new boss,” he spat at her, ignoring her questions.
“I’m trying to make the best of a bad situation,” she said, shocked by his coldness.
“Well, you were always good at adapting, weren’t you?” he said. He continued before she was able to say anything. “You don’t leave me a message telling me not to call you. If I want to call, I damn well will. I’ve put up with you for years but I’m done now. It’s because of you that I’ve lost everything. You’re bastard of a boyfriend felt he had to take everything away and now you’re all cushy with him once more. I see where your loyalties lie,” he ranted.
“I’m not all cozy with him, Dad. I just need the job. I have a son to support,” she told him.
“You’re always just full of excuses, just like when you were a child. I’m done coddling you. If you can get that man to back the hell off me, then you can call me. Otherwise you can stay out of my life,” he shouted. The phone went dead. Jasmine stared at the beeping receiver not understanding what just happened.
She had no more tears left in her. She had to pull herself together for her son’s sake. She went to the bathroom and washed her face. She looked in the mirror and vowed she’d never get taken advantage of or be abused again.
Derek had all calls held and sat at his desk looking up information. He soon found that Jasmine had never been married. She didn’t even appear to have been in a serious relationship. It took him a while to find information on her son though, because he was thinking he’d be a toddler.
When he realized how old the boy was his world seemed to stop spinning. He was doing some major math in his head and no matter which way he looked at it, the date of his birth coincided with the time he’d been with her. He knew she’d been a virgin when they slept together and he couldn’t imagine she’d jumped from his bed into another man’s within a couple of weeks-time.
It was possible but very unlikely. He had no idea how many hours he sat there trying to figure everything out. If he was a father, why would she not tell him? Why wouldn’t she have come after him for child support? He was a very wealthy man and she could’ve tried to exploit that.
He’d been working with her for a week and she hadn’t said a word about her son. The only explanation seemed to be that he wasn’t the father. But he didn’t understand why she wouldn’t try to pass the kid off as his. She knew the time frame would work and she could’ve thought he wouldn’t demand a DNA test.
He needed to get some answers and there was no way in hell he was waiting until Monday morning. He decided he was going to her house right then. He looked up her address and was shocked by the neighborhood. It wasn’t the poorest district but certainly not what she was used to. Hell, her father still lived in a mansion; well he did until he was forced to place it on the market.
She lived in a lower middle class neighborhood and the house had about as much square footage as his bedroom. He didn’t get it. He glanced at the clock and was frustrated to realize it was close to midnight. He’d been sitting at his computer all day and night. He’d have to wait until the morning before going over there. It was going to be a long, sleepless night.
He walked out to his car and couldn’t help himself from driving in the direction of her place. He had to see if it was really in the type of neighborhood he’d looked up. It took him about thirty minutes to reach her neighborhood and it was exactly as he'd pictured.
He slowed his car, as he looked at the house numbers, until he spotted her place. It was a nice house. No one could say she lived in the slums but he was so used to luxury condos and high-rises, that he almost forgot what working class neighborhoods looked like.
The place was a pale blue color, with white trim. He glanced at the well maintained lawn, which was due to be mowed, and the many flowers planted around and the white picket fence. She lives in suburbia, he thought, with an almost hysterical laugh.