Chapter 10 - THE FIRST REAL DATE
Derek waited thirty days.
Jasmine noticed.
He did not send flowers.
Did not appear at her office.
Did not manufacture reasons to call.
Thirty days after her final Drake paycheck cleared, he texted:
Dinner?
Jasmine smiled.
Then made him wait six minutes because she had standards.
Yes.
Her choice.
Restaurant:
Small Korean place downtown.
Her choice.
No private room.
No Drake-owned building.
Marcus remained half a block away because Derek still had security requirements while Malcolm case continued.
Compromise.
Derek wore no tie.
Jasmine found that strangely more dangerous than the suit.
“You’re staring.”
“No.”
“You are.”
“You look different.”
“Because I replaced my glasses.”
He frowned.
“The old ones were fine.”
She smiled.
“Good answer.”
Then:
“How is exile?”
Derek laughed.
“Board calls it administrative leave.”
“So exile.”
“Essentially.”
He had been forced to examine Drake Industries without being inside it.
Independent audit found legitimate businesses.
Dirty ones.
Gray ones.
Historic crimes.
Current questionable contracts.
Derek could return only if board approved restructuring.
He was considering more.
“What?”
“Selling some divisions.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want to spend the rest of my life explaining why illegal operations are necessary.”
Jasmine looked at him.
“Are they?”
“No.”
That was significant.
Then she told him about Barrett.
Entry-level forensic analyst.
Lower prestige than secretary to a billionaire?
Maybe to shallow people.
To Jasmine, enormous.
She had coursework ahead.
Certification possibilities.
“Do you like it?”
“Yes.”
Derek smiled.
Not:
I can give you better.
Just pleased.
Then he apologized.
“For what?”
“Your apartment.”
“When?”
“The first night.”
“You checked under my bed.”
“Yes.”
“That was weird.”
“I was worried.”
“Still weird.”
He nodded.
“And when I told you Marcus would drive you every night.”
“Very weird.”
“I thought protecting you gave me the right to decide.”
“It doesn’t.”
“I know.”
Then:
“I’m sorry.”
She believed him.
Not because apology was perfect.
Because behavior since matched it.
Dinner ended.
Outside:
“Can I kiss you?”
Jasmine froze.
Same man who once touched her cheek and almost crossed line.
Now asking.
She smiled.
“No.”
He blinked.
Then:
“Okay.”
She laughed.
“What?”
“You look devastated.”
“I’m adapting privately.”
“Good.”
Then she kissed his cheek.
His expression changed.
“Good night, Derek.”
He stood there while she entered taxi.
No following.
No order.
Then her phone rang.
Barrett partner.
Urgent.
New evidence in Malcolm investigation had surfaced through federal subpoena.
One transaction from twenty years earlier remained unexplained.
$1.8 million moved from Aster to an account labeled:
J.C. EDUCATION TRUST.
Jasmine’s initials.
She stared.
Another account in her name?
No.
This one was real.
Created by Thomas Cole.
May you like
Her father had moved money out of Aster before he died.
But was it stolen money—or evidence he had rescued from Malcolm?
