Chapter 13 - THE WOMAN IN THE MIRROR
Jasmine’s mother used to tell her:
Plain.
Forgettable.
Men like that don’t notice girls like you.
Years later, standing in a hotel mirror before her first keynote speech, Jasmine remembered every word.
Her hair was no longer forced into severe bun unless she wanted it.
Glasses modern.
Navy suit tailored.
Not expensive because Derek bought it.
Expensive because Jasmine could afford it.
She looked at reflection.
Still herself.
That mattered.
Conference topic:
HOW ORGANIZATIONS MISS FRAUD WHEN THEY UNDERVALUE THE PEOPLE CLOSEST TO THE DATA.
Derek sat in audience.
Back row.
No introduction.
No ownership of moment.
Jasmine spoke about junior staff noticing anomalies executives dismiss.
Administrative workers.
Payroll clerks.
Receptionists.
Drivers.
People who touch systems daily.
She did not tell personal story in full.
Only:
“The person with the lowest title may understand the workflow better than the person with the highest office.”
Derek smiled.
After speech, several firms approached with offers.
One:
Partnership track.
Different city.
New York to Boston? She already Manhattan. Maybe Washington.
Barrett offered promotion to partner if she stayed.
Choice.
Derek did not ask:
What about us?
He asked:
“What do you want?”
She hated how attractive growth was.
“I want the partnership.”
“Then take it.”
“You’re not worried?”
“About what?”
“Travel.”
“Yes.”
“Distance.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I’ll adapt.”
There.
Love without shrinking someone’s future.
Jasmine accepted.
Then Derek’s own future shifted.
Board asked him to become executive chair rather than CEO after restructuring complete.
Less daily control.
He considered.
“What would you do?”
Jasmine refused answer.
“Your career.”
“Annoying.”
“Yes.”
He chose chair role.
Not for her.
Because he wanted time.
Life outside Drake.
He started supporting whistleblower systems across portfolio companies.
Not glamorous.
Useful.
Then one night Jasmine arrived home at 10:40.
Late flight.
Phone had died.
Derek was sitting on sofa.
He stood.
For one second, old panic flashed.
“Why are you—”
He stopped.
Jasmine raised eyebrow.
Derek breathed.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”
“Flight delay.”
“Okay.”
No twelve calls.
No driver sent.
No order.
Then:
“I was worried.”
She smiled.
“That’s allowed.”
He smiled too.
“Good.”
Then Jasmine said:
“My battery died.”
“I guessed.”
“And?”
“I considered tracking your flight.”
“Reasonable.”
“Then I considered calling airport.”
She stared.
“I did not.”
“Excellent restraint.”
He looked offended.
May you like
Then she kissed him.
Because she wanted to.
