“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.

He’d dreamed of living in a place like that when he’d been growing up. He and his cousins would go walking through the neighborhoods, picking out which house they would own and exactly what cars would be parked in the driveway. His dreams had strayed a long way from that time.

He now lived on the top floor of a huge complex, with no yard in sight. He sat in his car, wistfully thinking it would be nice to have a yard. Her place was far too small for his tastes but the idea of a yard was greatly appealing. If the boy really did turn out to be his, he’d start looking for property to build a nice house on. Hell, even if the boy didn’t turn out to be his, he was going to start looking. It was time to have some land and maybe a few horses and other animals roaming around.

He kept fighting with himself. He wanted to pound on her door and demand answers from her. He wasn’t a patient man and he needed to know if he had a son. If it were true he’d already lost over nine years of the boy’s life and he wasn’t willing to lose one minute more.

He debated with himself for a few minutes and then decided there was no use causing a scene in the middle of the night. He moved to start the car, when there was a knock at his window. He normally wasn’t a jumpy person but his heart jumped, as he turned to see the bright end of a flashlight.

He rolled his window down to see who was interrupting him in the middle of the night. He almost hoped it was a robber so he could have an excuse to pound his frustrations out on someone.

“What are you doing parked out here son?” a stern voice asked him. Derek had to suppress the smile that wanted to rise to his lips. Only in this type of area would an officer approach and call him son.

“Sorry officer, I got lost and was looking at my blackberry to figure out how to get turned around,” the lie rolled off his lips.

“Let me see your license and registration. You can shut the motor off while I check things out,” the officer said, suspiciously. Derek had to admit he did look suspicious, sitting in front of the home, in the family neighborhood. For all the officer knew, he was some robber, or stalker. He was a little uncomfortable, considering he was actually stalking Jasmine right then.

“Here you go,” Derek said, as he passed his information through the window. The officer looked at him again and then sidled back to his car. Derek was grateful the lights weren’t flashing. He was praying Jasmine was asleep in her house and would never know of this.

Derek was still angry with her but he didn’t need a confrontation in the middle of the night, with an officer as a witness and all the neighbors’ porch lights flashing on.

The officer was gone about ten minutes, enough to make him squirm a bit, like he was back in high school and had just stolen the mayor’s car, or something. What was wrong with him? He had nothing to worry about; he was a successful and respected business man.

“Looks like everything checks out. Can I give you any directions?” the officer asked, as he silently approached the window once more and shined his far too bright light inside the vehicle once more.

“No sir, I have it all figured out,” Derek said, just wanting to get on his way.

“Okay then, I will wait here while you get going,” he said, almost like a threat. It was definitely time for him to get going. He’d be back in the morning and hoped like hell there had was a shift change because he was sure if the same officer came by he was going to be a lot more suspicious.

Derek drove off and soon hit the main roads. He was wide awake and not thrilled to walk into his empty place. He lay down and hoped he could at least manage to get a few hours of sleep.

Chapter Seven

Jasmine woke up to the sound of pounding coming from somewhere. She wasn’t ever a morning person but the insistent pounding was putting her in a far worse mood than she normally woke up in.

She climbed out of her bed and stumbled down the stairs, not bothering to put on a robe to cover up her old t-shirt and short boxers. If the person was rude enough to wake her up early on a Saturday, then whoever it was could deal with her bedtime apparel.

She knew her hair would be frightening and her eyes still only half slits. Perhaps she’d scare the unwanted visitor enough to never call so early again. She yanked open the door, “What do you want at this ungodly hour?” she snapped before looking up.

She gasped at the sight of Derek standing on her front porch. He didn’t look too happy. She had no clue what he could possibly be doing on her front doorstep at any time, much less so early on a Saturday.

“Is that how you greet all your guests?” he asked, with a mocking smile.

“Number one, you’re not my guest and number two, most people are smart enough not to show up at my doorstep at the break of dawn, on a weekend,” she snapped back at him, not even caring she was being rude.

She inhaled the scent of coffee and her eyes widened as she sought out the wonderful aroma. He was holding two large cups and she was fighting with herself on whether to shut the door in his face, or make a grab for the cup. She was awake now and she wanted that coffee badly.

Derek had to fight the smile from coming across his features at the pure look of lust that came into her eyes as she spotted the coffee he was holding. He’d made a last minute decision to swing by and grab it. Even after only a week of working with her, he already knew she wasn’t a happy person until she’d downed her first cup. He’d learned to wait to speak to her until she was at least half-way through the mug.

He held it out as a peace offering, forgetting for a moment he was there to demand answers from her. She greedily grabbed the cup and took a large sip with a sigh.