So this was my entry for the TwiFandomNews Secrets & Lies Contest. I want to thank my awesome pre reader Mylissa who helped this story grow from the very beginning. I want to thank my Beta AlicesWhiteRabbit for bringing this baby home. I am immensely proud of this story and so grateful to everyone who helped me turn it into the success it was. I'm not sure if I will continue this I did make it a complete sorry but let me know if you guys really want me to continue it and I will consider doing so.
Summary: When Jasper meets Alice he turns on the southern charm, getting her out of a pretty sticky situation. Too bad Jasper's charm is as fake as his job, his apartment in Manhattan, even his name.
DISCLAIMER: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended
JPOV
"A whiskey neat for him, and what can I get you, sir?" the waitress asked.
"Oh-uh ... a water," I stammered.
With these prices, I was scared to order anything but that and the complimentary bread.
"Excuse my boneheaded brother; he'll have whatever's on tap," Peter undercut me.
"Right away, sir." The waitress nodded, heading toward the back.
"I normally have to force water down your throat on your birthday. What gives?" Peter asked, concerned.
"You mean besides the fact a beer here probably cost more than the shirt on my back," I scoffed.
"I bet the tablecloth cost more than the shirt on your back," Peter pointed out.
"My point exactly. I don't belong here," I argued.
"Says who?"
"The tablecloth," I snorted.
Peter rolled his eyes, picking up the menu and motioning me to do the same.
"Don't make me order for you again," he warned, eyeing me over the top of the menu.
"Peter, these prices are ridiculous," I groaned.
"Well, good thing dinner's on me then." Peter smirked.
"I don't want your money," I spoke tensely.
"Can we just get through one evening without you bashing my line of work," he snapped. "I'm trying to do something nice."
"Nice would be not flooding drugs through the schools of the kids I'm trying to save," I bit back.
"Your drinks, gentlemen." The waitress smiled, returning with our order.
"Have you guys decided?" she quizzed.
"Actually, we're just gonna go—"
"We'll both have the bay scallop ceviche, the butter-poached Maine lobster, hold the fennel with extra lobster sauce, and for dessert, we'll take a classic banana split," Peter cut me off.
"Right away, sir," the waitress confirmed.
"Are you crazy? This check will be over two hundred dollars," I protested.
"It'll be less than the last time I was here then." He waved off.
"You've eaten here before?" I asked, shocked.
"This is one of Char's favorite places to eat when we cross over to this side of the tracks," Peter spoke, nursing his fresh whiskey.
I shook my head in disbelief. This was the same brother I grew up with. He is so desperate to get out of Long Island he would flood our streets with poison, and for what? So he can eat three-hundred dollar dinners with people who will never see him as more gum on the bottom of their shoes.
"Have you taken Mom here yet? She'd love this place," I goaded. I knew damn well he hadn't taken Mom here because that would mean he'd have to explain how he has the money to afford such luxuries.
"One night, Jasper, just one," he spat.
With a heavy sigh, I reluctantly agreed. We do this song and dance every time we see each other. I've grown rather bored with it.
"Fine," I muttered. "But this lobster better be worth it." I grinned. My brother's face lit up with the first genuine smile I'd seen in a while. I instantly felt bad for never noticing the impact my opinion had on him.
"It's excellent; trust me. None of that overpriced, rubbery nonsense. I swear it tastes like they catch it out back." He smiled.
"I think the menu said its Maine lobster; that's supposed to be the best or something," I told him, reflecting on what I'd heard the socialites at work say.
"So, how's work been?" Peter asked, reading my mind.
"Day job—same old, same old," I muttered flatly.
Working as a janitor at a history museum, nothing ever changes. Every few weeks, we host some fancy party where socialites use the building to pretend they're still connected to our history.
"But my volunteer group is going amazing. I added an extra kickboxing class on Saturday, and it filled up right away. I'm up to five classes, I've spoken to the leader of the youth center, and we're thinking about expanding to Sunday classes. "
"That's great, I know Rose mentioned something similar for the girls' class you organized; you guys really need a building," Peter stated.
"I know. I've been working on it. These classes give our youth a safe place to not only blow off steam, but it keeps them off the streets. I wish I could just quit my job and devote all my time and energy into this, but passion doesn't pay the bills." I sighed.
"It will happen for you, brother, just have faith," Peter reassured me.
"Look who's being a positive Patty," I joked.
He flipped me the bird as the waitress returned with our first course. Much to my chagrin, I had to give it to Peter—this food looked amazing.
"Now what do you have to say?" Peter smirked.
"Oh, shut up and tell me about this project Charlotte is working on," I grumbled, taking a careful bite of my ceviche.
I had all intentions of listening to my brother as he prattled on about his wife's teenage pregnancy prevention project through the local clinic. It was a worthy cause that I'd be sure Rose passed along to her students, but the conversation behind me grabbed my attention.
"Long Island piece of shit!"
I turned around to catch a glimpse of the verbal assailant but was met with a seemingly embarrassed brunette whose face was flaming red.
"Alice!" she scolded.
"I swear; that's the last time I relax my standards!" The feisty girl with her back to mine spoke.
"Then you'll be single forever, Alice, because no one can meet your impossibly high standards," her friend snorted.
"How is Demetri turning out to be the biggest asshole alive suddenly my fault?" she growled.
"What happened, Alice?" Her friend sighed.
"I told this tool I was thinking about expanding into menswear. Do you know what this asshat had the nerve to say to me?" she shrieked.
"No, but I'm sure you're about to tell me." Her friend spoke flatly.
"He said I should stay in my lane and leave the menswear to the 'big boys.'" I saw her arms go up in my periphery to make air quotes. Her friend tried to cover her laugh but failed miserably.
"I'm glad this is amusing to you. Bella; some friend you are." She huffed.
"I just find it funny that you let some asshole get under your skin so much; just toss his ass and keep it moving." She snorted.
"Easy for you to say, miss-I-met-my-husband-in-college," she argued.
"You think Edward was a dream when I met him?" her friend scoffed.
"He was a douchebag frat boy who tried to fuck me on the first night, then threw up in my purse," she argued, " but I gave him a chance to make it up to me, to show me who he really was. That's all I'm saying, Alice. People make mistakes, but everyone deserves a second chance."
"I can't believe you're defending that asshole."
"I'm not. I agree he had to go, but some of the other men you dated, it may have been a little premature when you handed out those walking papers."
"Whatever. I'm not dating outside of the Upper East Side again. Men who don't live in our world will never understand it. "
What a stuck-up bitch! Yeah, that guy sounds like a tool but what does that have to do with where he's from? Assholes are born and bred every day.
"Have you told Rose yet? I'm sure she'd like to get the girls involved?" I asked my brother, creating the illusion I'd been actively listening.
We chatted for a bit more about Char's program. I kept my focus on my table and the nice dinner my brother set up for us. The food was delightful. I allowed myself to finish my meal without a sense of guilt. The smile on my brother's face pushed the thoughts of his occupation out of my mind.
"I'm going to smoke," I told my brother.
"A whole five minutes after you finished your meal; that must be a record," my brother teased.
"Fuck off." I laughed, placing my napkin on the table and standing up.
"Go ahead; I'll just settle the bill and meet you out front," he told me. I nodded my head and made my way to the door, exiting the restaurant.
Paying no attention to the soft drizzle of the Manhattan rain, I lit my cigarette before the doors of Aureole even had a chance to close. I took my first pull, letting the nicotine bring me peace. I exhaled the smoke into the brisk New York air and looked around, taking in my surroundings. Broadway was beautiful at night. The lights shone brightly; it was like a soft glow surrounded the city. It was easy to see why the city inspired hope in so many people.
"Go ahead, Bella. I'll catch the next one." I hear to my left.
I looked over and the brunette from the table behind me dashed to the cab, opening the door and muttering promises of calling her tomorrow. An infectious laugh stirred something deep inside me. I looked from the brunette to her dark-haired friend, and my heart stopped in my chest. She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. The brisk autumn wind blew between us, sending her dark, untamed tresses flowing freely in the breeze, exposing her face enough to catch a glimpse of the most radiant smile. Her whiskey-brown eyes lit up as she pulled the brunette into a tight hug before sending her off. The cab pulled off as she waved it goodbye before digging into her purse for something. I was so lost admiring her petite frame and the sensual curves of her body in that dress I didn't notice her spot me. She shrugged on her navy suede coat, hiding from my admiring eyes.
"Alice!"
Both our heads snapped in the direction of the commanding voice. An olive-skinned man came charging toward us in his cheap gray suit, anger in his face.
"Demetri, what are you doing here? Are you stalking me now?"
"You don't own the city, Alice, though you'd like to believe you do," he snapped, getting in her face.
"Crawl back to Long Island with your dignity before I completely embarrass you." She seethed.
"You really want to take me on, pixie?"
"You don't scare me, you no-good, cheap suit-wearing, masochistic, penis-pump using, Long Island piece of garbage. Crawl back to the slums before I hand your ass to you," she threatened, inching closer to his face. This was escalating fast. I had to do something; if he hurt a hair on this gorgeous woman's head, I'd never forgive myself. Without thinking it through, I threw my cigarette on the ground, stepping on it on my way over to her.
"My apologies, darlin'. I know you hate the smell of my cigarettes, so I thought I'd grab a quick one while you hit the powder room. I guess I took longer than I realized," I said, using my one month of acting class experience to muster up a halfway decent Texan accent.
"It's-uh, okay?" she stammered.
I tucked her into my side, and it was like she fit perfectly there. Her soft body molded into mine, and I placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Honeybunch, who is this?" I fake quizzed, looking into the murderous glare of the man before me. He looked so familiar. I just couldn't place it.
I watched her gaze fall on my lips every time I spoke before a small smile tugged at her lips. I think she's digging the accent.
"Nobody, babe; a brief lapse of judgment that made me realize how dumb I was to let you go." My angel played along, smiling up at me.
"Are you fucking kidding me? You chose this boy-band reject over a real man like me?" he scoffed.
"I don't think real men need penis pumps. I know how to satisfy this little minx here without a hint of trouble," I goaded. I knew it was a low blow; we men are sensitive about our package, but I had to hit him where it hurts.
"You told him that?" fake Deuce Bigalow whisper yelled.
"She mentioned her worst decision ever in passin' but now I can put a face to a name. Jasper Whitlock," I announced, extending my hand, which of course he just stared at. I used my grandpa's last name instead of Hale, who did really own a ranch in Texas. I've only been twice in my life.
"Fuck off. You two better watch your backs; just because you're on this side of the tracks doesn't mean you're untouchable." And with that, he stormed off.
I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding and chuckled softly, shaking my head.
My angel was still eyeing my lips like she wanted to devour them. We paid minimal attention to Puff Baby's temper tantrum. I'd say anything to keep her looking at me like that. I'd regret taking his threat lightly later.
"I sure know how to pick 'em, huh?" My angel giggled.
"It's probably not your fault; most people show you what you wanna see. It takes a while for their true colors to shine through." I shrugged.
"Don't tell me you're not actually my hero. You have the hero hair and everything."
She grinned, running her finger through my hair. The gesture was so intimate, so familiar; it was like we'd been doing this for years.
"I can't be because you're nowhere near a damsel in distress. I was more scared for him than you," I joked.
"Alice Brandon," she said, extending her hand, which I shook.
"Like the fashion designer?" I asked, shocked. I knew I recognized her and her boy toy. They'd been all over the tabloids.
"The one and only." She smiled.
"My sister and my momma love your stuff, which makes Christmas shopping for them easy," I joked, not breaking character.
"Well, as a thank you for your heroics, how about you stop by the boutique off Madison in a few weeks? We can pick out something nice for them from my new collection."
"Oh, no, that's not necessary, darlin'. I didn't do nothing my momma ain't raise me to do." I protested. I could barely afford last season's items in the outlet mall. There was no way I could afford her new collection.
"I insist. I have more than enough freebies to toss to a good cause, and you, my southern charmer, are a great cause." She smiled.
"I'm starting to get the feeling I better just agree."
"You learn very fast." She grinned. "See you in a few weeks?"
"Sure," I agreed.
"Thank you for all your help again, Mister Whitlock," she said, turning from me and heading off in the opposite direction.
"You're welcome, darlin'," I replied.
My sexy angel turned back around with a smile and waved before continuing on her path down the block, hailing a cab at the corner.
I went to sleep that night with her on my mind; it was like she invaded my subconscious leaving blissful dreams in her wake. I dreamt of her bright eyes beaming up at me before her soft, pouty lips descended on mine, peppering me with her soft kisses. I woke up with morning wood so hard I could chop cocaine with it. After an embarrassingly quick shower, I knew I had to see her again. Fall just fell, and the Christmas season wouldn't start for a few months. I couldn't wait that long; I had to see her again. Popping up at her boutique a month in advance could come off as eager and borderline stalkerish. So I decided internet stalking was the way to go. I found her Facebook page fairly easily and saw a promotion for her pre-fashion week runway show. That's it! I can go to the show and maybe catch her afterward, stage some type of run in. I called the box office; apparently, you can't buy tickets online for this kind of thing. The woman who answered the phone laughed rather rudely in my ear before informing me these types of events are invite only.
Great! I was back to square one.
I was just about to give up when I came across her Twitter page, and the last tweet inspired a twinge of hope in me.
Want to kick-start your modeling career walking in a Brandon original? Contact Eclipse Modeling. There are three spots open for my next show.
I've never been someone to believe in fate, but with this falling into my lap, I felt someone was looking out for me. I immediately typed the agency name into Google and was directed to their page. The qualifications were that I must submit a headshot, measurements, and contact information. I knew Rose was going to kill me for this—castrate and skin me, making a rug out of what's left of my corpse—but I had to try. So I filled out the application, submitting the headshot Rose took when she was auditioning for Jersey Shore. Apparently, she was too pale and didn't look Jersey enough; that crushed any dreams she had of being famous, and it was law school at that point. We all tried to convince her she had an old school, Hollywood glam look, and she just needed to try a different avenue. Rose is gorgeous; networks would snatch her up in a heartbeat. After the Jersey Shore rejection, she threw herself into pre-law and never looked back. It startled me when the response was almost instantaneous; an email chimed, and they wanted her but on the condition she could walk. She needed to go do a runway test the next day.
Fuck
I have less than 24 hours to convince Rose to walk in a runway test show so I could possibly get another moment with the girl of my dreams.
I am royally fucked.
_
"Please, Rose," I sighed for the billionth time today.
"Not a chance," my sister scoffed.
"Come on. I never ask you for anything; just this one time, please?" I wasn't too proud to beg at this point.
"You expect me to drop everything I'm doing to play runway Barbie in hopes of modeling in a Brandon fashion show? As if I even stand a chance. Look at the facts, Jas. I'm a twenty-three-year-old law student from Long Island with zero experience. I will make a fool of myself. Uh-uh. I'm not doing it," she protested. "Plus, you still haven't had the decency to even tell me why this is so important to you."
"It's not. Can't I want my sister to partake in a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?"
Rosalie arched her eyebrow in disbelief. She wasn't buying my bullshit. I'd have to lay it on thick.
"I know not getting on Jersey Shore for not being 'Jersey enough'—whatever that means—was a huge blow to you. So I thought I'd give you an even better opportunity to shove it in the fuckers' faces who passed you over while offering you a life-changing experience before you're chained to a courtroom for the rest of your life. I only want what's best for you, Rose."
Her arms crossed as her eyes narrowed. She still didn't buy it.
"Okay, okay. You'll get a discount on the new Brandon collection, maybe even a few freebies, and Christmas is coming up. I need that discount; you and Mom have expensive taste." The lie just fell from my lips so elegantly I even started to believe it.
"And there it is, folks." She laughed.
"Fine," she sighed, "But it better be a hell of a Christmas in the Hale house," she spat.
"Oh, it will be."
My phone rang, and I told Rose to give me a minute. She just said text her the details before leaving.
"This is, Jas," I answered.
"Whaddup, man?" The booming voice of my best friend Em echoed through the speaker.
"Nothing, bro. I was just talking to Rose for a bit," I answered.
"I've met everyone in the fam, but your sister. Are you hiding her from me?" he teased.
"And what reason would I have to do that? Are you planning to put the moves on my sister? Plus, I haven't met Izzy yet either. If anyone's hiding sisters, it's you," I countered.
"I mean, I've been on your Facebook page. I'd be lying if I said your sister was a duck, and I'm not hiding Izzy. She's stuck up her hubby's ass so far it's hard to catch up with her."
"A duck?"
"You know. A broad so ugly every time you see her, you gotta DUCK," he laughed.
"You are horrible."
"I'm honest, and your sister is fine. That's why you keep her locked away."
"You're exaggerating. Rose is starting law school next semester. She's been so focused on school I even have a hard time catching up with her," I explained.
"Sure; tell me anything. Anyway, how's Ma Dukes doing?" he asked, changing the subject.
"Mom's good; driving me crazy as usual with the Jewish mom guilt trip on when I'm going to get married and have grandbabies for her to spoil," I muttered.
"Let her know she'd have grandbabies if she'd introduce me to her daughter," he teased.
"Don't let her hear you say that. You're tall, dark, and rich. She'll shove Rose down the aisle faster than you can say 'I do,'" I warned.
Emmett's father was the vice president and shareholder of Twilight Tech, the leading phone and computer brand in the United States, Canada, and Mexico. Emmett was the operations director of the New York branch. His family was from old money. I met him when the company I work for had the contract cleaning his building until we went government funded working for the history museum and other museums alike.
"I might take her up on that. Anyway, what's up with you?" he asked.
"Same shit different day for the most part here, except I met someone," I announced. I loved my family dearly, but I couldn't tell them anything without it being thrown back in my face. Sometimes, it was nice to talk to someone who won't judge and will just listen and be there for me. Emmett was the best friend I'd ever had, and I could come to him with anything.
"It's new, and I'm not sure how long it'll last. She's this Manhattan socialite, and I'm just a glorified janitor from Long Island. I'm not good enough for her, Em." I sighed.
"Jasper, that's bullshit. You're plenty good. No one gives a damn where you're from. Women just care if you treat them right. All that other shit is petty."
"Coming from the walking ATM," I quipped.
"I've told you a million times I'd hire you in a heartbeat at six figures a year, at least."
"I know, but I don't want a handout. Plus, being chained to a desk for the rest of my life doesn't sound appealing," I argued.
"Well, the offer will always stand, bro."
"I know. Anyway, what's up with you?" It was my turn to change the subject now.
"I'm at the airport now. My flight was delayed, so I'm just killing time."
"Oh, I see you only call me when you're bored," I joked.
"If I did that, I'd fall asleep because you're already boring as is."
"Fuck you." I laughed. "Where are you going anyway?"
"I have to fly out to Chicago for a week. We fired the operations manager at that sight, and I have to show the new guy around, lay down our expectations and such."
"Sounds boring."
"It is," he muttered.
"Well, text me when you get back. We have to grab a drink or something and maybe we can bring our sisters this time," I suggested.
"Sounds good. I gotta go; they're calling my flight."
"All right. Later, bro."
"Later."
I gave Rose the details for her meeting at the agency. It was at three on the Upper East Side. By six o'clock, my sister called me, squealing about them wanting her. Apparently, she got to meet Alice herself, and she gushed over my sister, saying she'd be perfect to open the show. Apparently, the agency was on thin ice because it was fashion week in Milan. They double booked for Alice and Dior. Dior was paying more, and the show was in Milan. Needless to say, the models bounced, leaving her three models short. According to Rose, they'll be sorry because Brandon Couture will be the name on everyone's lips this year.
Rose thanked me profusely for pushing her to do this, calling me the best big brother ever. Which, instead of making me feel good, made me feel like shit. What seemed like a heartfelt gesture was actually a selfish request. I chatted with Rose for a few more minutes, going over what we're going to do about her Saturday kickboxing class. We decided to push it to Thursday instead, and I would email all the parents.
Saturday rolled around faster than ever. I had just enough time to shower after my last kickboxing class, slip on the best suit I owned, and head to Manhattan. Rose received a plus two since I scored her the gig, so I got to come. How Vicky beat out my mother is still undisclosed; all Rose said was "I owe her." Rose got the guilt trip of the century by our mother, but she promised to make it up to her. I wasn't thrilled about sharing the moment with Vicky. In addition to being Rose's best friend, she was an awkward summer hook-up before she went off to college my junior year of high school; we never talked about it. Since then, we haven't spent more than five minutes in a room alone.
But not awkward at all, right?
Vicky and I sat in the third row from the stage. I was amazed at all the Manhattan socialites and celebrities in attendance. I felt like I was sucked into a whole new world, a world I didn't belong in. "A Whole New World" echoed in my head as flying carpets danced in my mind. I finally understood how Aladdin felt meeting Princess Jasmine. I'm just a street rat from Long Island, nowhere near good enough for Alice Brandon.
I was having second thoughts. I decided to just leave after the show. I'd congratulate my sister and try to get out of there before Alice spotted me. I had no idea how I deluded myself into thinking this little plan of mine would work.
Vicky elbowed me in the side, bringing me out of my stupor as the lights dimmed and Rose emerged. She was stunning in the red, backless gown covered in lace with speckles of gold littered throughout. I was stunned by my sister's beauty. Good looks ran in the Hale family. I had to hand out a few ass whoopings growing up because boys tended to make fools out of themselves over Rose. So I knew my sister was beautiful, but today, I never saw her look more stunning. She captivated the room as flashes surrounded her. My sister moved with elegance and grace. It looked as if she was made for the runway. With the look of contentment in her eyes, I could tell she was thinking the same thing. At this point, my focus was on my sister. I took dozens of pictures, sending them to my mother and brother. I was worse than the paparazzi.
Rose walked three times in this show, each look better than the last. I was super impressed with my angel's collection. After the final dress walked, all the models reemerged for the final walk-through. As my angel appeared with the tall, ebony model who wore the final dress, the crowd erupted in applause. My heart was in my throat. I'd seen a dozen models that day, but nothing compared to Alice. My angel was a petite little thing, but you'd never guess with the way her legs went on for miles in this sexy gold number that fit her like a glove. It hugged her small curves, pushing her delicious breasts up for my eyes to feast on. Her delicate neck was exposed as her hair fell straight down to the middle of her back, slicked back not a hair out of place. Her smile was radiant and proud as she waved goodbye, taking the hand of the ebony model in the finale dress and exited the runway. Everyone, including myself, erupted in applause again. I was enamored with my angel before, but now, I admired her. Her designs were otherworldly, so innovative, that she's breaking glass ceilings.
I was suddenly torn. I knew I should go find Rose, congratulate her, and then hightail it out of here. It was stupid to think Alice Brandon would want someone like me. Vicky suggested we go find Rose. I reluctantly agreed, grabbing the flowers from under my chair and heading toward the back. We found Rose easily in the final dress she wore from the show; apparently, she got to keep all three. She was ecstatic.
"Thank you for pushing me to do this, Jas. I could never have dreamt to do something like this," she announced, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug.
Vicky gagged at the sentimental moment. I glared at her. Rose flipped her the bird. Vicky congratulated Rose, telling her how great she did and how awesome she looked and how slightly jealous of my sister she was before leaving us to find the bathroom.
"This was a dream come true. This was more than I ever could have imagined it to be. Do you think I can do it?" she asked nervously.
"I knew you could do it," I said honestly.
I may be a selfish asshole of a brother, but I had the utmost confidence in my big sister.
"No, I mean, do you think I can do this, modeling like … for real?" She bit her lip nervously.
I smiled at my sister. I'd never seen such doubt in her eyes. Rose had always been the poster child for confidence. For someone who grew up as the lanky kid with glasses, she was my role model. That's why it surprised me that my confidence in her mattered so much.
I really need to pay more attention to my siblings.
"I wouldn't have pushed you to do this if I didn't," I stated. "I'd never set you up for failure, Rose. I'm your biggest fan."
"Good because the agency wants to hire me on officially, and I think I'm gonna do it," she announced.
"I think you should." I nodded.
The waterworks and the hugs returned until I heard a voice over my shoulder.
"Happy tears I hope?"
I recognized the voice of my angel before I even laid eyes on her. Her voice sang to me, stirring up something deep in my chest.
"Yes." Rose laughed, wiping her eyes.
I turned around to face my angel and a look of surprise crossed her face.
"Mr. Whitlock, saving one of my models this time. You aren't doing much to discourage my hero theory." She smiled.
"Well, Miss Brandon, again, this woman here needs no saving. She scares me more than you do." I winked.
My inner southern charmer emerged, and my new alter-ego Jasper Whitlock cowboy extraordinaire emerged. Rose was looking at me like a split two heads.
"How do you know each other?" she quizzed.
"You gone on and picked my big sister here to be one of your models," I replied.
"I should have guessed she was your sister. You guys are practically identical. I guess your accent just threw me off, and isn't her last name Hale?" she asked confused.
My lies were right on the brink of crashing down around me. I had to do something fast.
"Well, our parents split right after I was born. Rose was raised here in New York while I stayed with Dad and Grandpappy on his ranch in Dallas."
I don't know what made me say it, why I dug myself into this hole I couldn't crawl back out of. I officially lied to her, and there was no going back.
"Jasper what the hel—" Rose began.
"Congratulations, Ali. This show was amazing!" Bella's voice echoed as she ran up to Alice, pulling her into a tight hug.
Whew, saved by the Bella.
"I'm sure this is your best line yet!" she said excitedly.
"I agree," we all said in unison, sharing a laugh afterward.
"We need to celebrate. Let's grab a drink at that club New Moon that just opened up on Ninth," she offered.
"Uh …" I hesitated.
I wasn't sure I could keep up this charade for the rest of the night. Not to mention, one night at New Moon could cost a week's salary.
"My treat?" Bella said, sweetening the pot.
"Well, I'm never one to pass up free booze," Rose said.
Damn lush.
"Did someone say free booze?" Vicky said, coming back from the bathroom.
Alice's eyes looked up at me in wonder. I gave her a somber smile before nodding.
Off to New Moon we go.
Alice and Bella went off in her Town Car as Rose, Vicky, and I shared a cab. As soon as the door was shut and the cabbie had the address, Rose laid into me.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she growled.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I muttered, facing the window.
"Why are you lying to her like that, Jasper?" she asked, confused. "This doesn't make any sense."
"Rose, can you just drop it?" I sighed.
"The hell I will. What's all this crap you're saying about Daddy? That man left us high and dry and hightailed it back to Dallas, forgetting about us. How could you toss Mom aside like that after all she's sacrificed for us?" Rose seethed, "And for what, huh? To impress Alice Brandon? I mean, I love her designs, but they aren't enough for me to discredit our mother. Enough to act so ashamed of where we're from. You talk about Peter rushing out of Long Island, but here you are doing the same thing," she huffed.
I knew she was right. I had nothing to say to defend my actions. I didn't know what came over me. It would break my mother's heart to hear the lies I've told today.
"What the hell is going on?" Vicky asked confused.
"Nothing. Look, I told a little white lie when I met her, and it just spiraled out of control, but I'll fix it."
"You better," she warned. "You won't give me this opportunity just to take it away with your foolishness."
We arrived at New Moon and made our way inside. We spotted Alice and Bella in the VIP area, and they waved us over. We were let in by the bouncers and made our way to the lounge area where the girls were seated.
The music was pumping so loud, bodies were packed in here, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. Normally, I hate clubs where you have to shout to hear each other, but I was grateful for the privacy it created for Alice and me.
"Why did Bella suggest this place? I can barely hear myself think," Alice complained.
"I don't think this place was made for thinking or talking just dancing and shots." I grinned.
"Well, Mr. Whitlock," she said, holding up the shot in her hand and motioning me to grab mine. We clinked glasses and downed the whiskey in one gulp.
"Take me to dance."
Alice dragged me out of the VIP section to the main dance floor. She pulled me close and started swaying her hips, getting into the music. I was surprised by her boldness. I couldn't keep up with her. She found new ways to surprise me with each encounter. I pegged her as a boujee, Upper East Side, status-climbing snob. But now, with this minx in my arms, body flush against mine, she just seemed like a normal girl I met in a bar. I never imagined her to be so down to earth. I ran my fingers down her arms. She shivered at my touch. My fingers landed on the soft curve of her hips. I gripped them tightly, bringing her closer to me. She gasped in surprise, but she didn't pull away. My breathing deepened as I moved to the beat with her. Her small stature brought her just to my shoulder. I dropped my face in the crook of her neck, letting my breath tickle her ear.
"Jas …" she whispered.
I closed my eyes and breathed in the electricity between us. I felt so connected to this girl it was almost scary.
I couldn't be honest now. I wouldn't risk losing her.
I don't know how long we danced, but when I looked up to the VIP area, everyone was gone. I signaled Alice, and she grabbed my hand pulling me back to the VIP seats. The bouncer told us our friends left about an hour ago.
How long had we been dancing?
We exited the club, the brisk fall air cooling our heated skin. I couldn't believe we got so lost in each other that hours ticked by.
"Can I walk you home, ma'am?" I asked, not wanting the night to end.
"Oh, I don't want to take you out of your way." she argued.
This was the moment of truth. I could come clean with minimal damage, but with that risk, this could be the last time I ever saw.. I just couldn't risk it.
"I live nearby, so it's not out of my way at all." I forced a smile, shoving down my feelings of guilt.
I don't count a three-block walk, a bus, and a subway ride out of the way.
"Okay." She smiled. I couldn't help but return a matching one, this one genuine.
We walked for a few blocks before turning onto Fifteenth.
"Tonight feels like the best night of my life." She beamed.
"I was so nervous about the line, but the public reception was better than I could have imagined. The pictures have already surfaced online, and they're saying I pretty much broke the internet. Orders were placed as soon as the show ended, and half our stock is already on back order. My best friend was here to support me. I've had an amazing time with you tonight. Every dream I had when I moved here came true."
"You're not from here?" I asked surprised.
"No, I am from LA, but due to some unexpected family issues, we had to relocate to New York. I was devastated to leave all my family, friends, the mansion, and pretty much the life I knew. But Bella helped me. She was already in New York at Columbia for her master's program. She told me New York was the place where dreams come true, and I could turn my sketching into something real."
"Sounds like a good friend."
"Bella's the best. When she moved to LA, she was like a breath of fresh air. I didn't realize how far my nose stuck in the air until she came along. She was so down to earth, like a normal girl, and I admired her as the only one besides myself without a silicone rack and a botched rhinoplasty." She laughed.
"I told her the first day I met her we would be best friends."
"Future teller, Miss Brandon?" I teased.
"Sometimes."
"Than what's in our future?" I asked, desperate for the answer.
"A lot, I hope," she whispered, coming to a stop.
"What's wrong?" I asked, puzzled.
"Nothing; this is me." She nodded over her shoulder.
I took in the nice two-story brownstone. I couldn't imagine how much it cost to own something like this in Manhattan, probably more than I make in six years.
"It's nice," I complimented.
"It's just a house. LA will always be home. Though I'm happy here, I can't wait to expand back to LA. Have my boutique on Rodeo Drive and a studio in my house in the hills." She smiled.
"A home is not a place, it's the people in it," I told her.
"That's very insightful, Mr. Whitlock."
"What can I say? You bring out my philosophical side." I grinned.
"Well, I should get in. It's going to be a crazy day tomorrow. The designs hit the website, and the shipments arrive at the store."
"Okay, well, I won't keep ya. I just want you to know that I had an amazing time tonight, and I'm glad I could share this day with you."
Alice looked up with a gleam in her eyes. Her deep hickory pools drew me in closer. Her breathing hitched as she eyed my lips. Before I could second-guess myself, my lips claimed hers. Her soft, pillowy lips sent a shockwave through my whole body. It was like the electric pull between us at the club returned, and I was in a haze, consumed by all things Alice Brandon. We broke the kiss, coming up for air. A soft blush tinted her cheeks before she turned away, heading in her home. I watched her safely get inside before taking off. I shoved my hands in my jacket pocket before heading toward the bus stop. I felt a card in my pocket and pulled it out. It was Alice's card, and on the back, it said call me, with a different number in elegant script. I couldn't help the grin that crossed my face. The little minx slipped that into my pocket, ensuring I would see her again.
I called her the very next morning, and she agreed to lunch the next day. I was thrilled I'd get to see her again so soon.
_
Bethany's was a café just a block or two away from Alice's brownstone. I arrived early and snagged a seat outside where she'd spot me, ordering a coffee while I waited. It's like I felt her before I even saw her. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as something vibrated within me. The electricity was back as the air was thick. I turned my neck, and she took my breath away. She wore a quarter-sleeve, royal blue bodycon dress that hugged her frame, falling just below the knee. The sweetheart neckline plunged just low enough to give me a peek at her cleavage. It was modest but just a little spicy, just like my girl.
"You look great," I choked out as I stood to greet her.
I pulled her close to me, kissing her forehead as I wrapped her in my embrace. I was bombarded with her scent. She smelled sweet, like vanilla and honey. I wanted to taste every inch of her skin. I pulled away before she felt the problem she was creating in my pants but not before I placed a soft kiss on her velvety lips. I led her to a table inside, pulling her chair out for her before taking my own. I grabbed her napkin, unfolding it, and handing it to her.
"Why, thank you kindly, sir." she teased in her own rendition of a southern belle accent, batting her eyelashes.
"You're very welcome, ma'am." I played along.
"Was this place too far for you?" she asked before flagging down the waitress for a coffee.
"Oh, no, not at all," I lied.
"Good because this place is great. They have the best salads."
"Please say this isn't one of them healthy living places. I want something bathed in grease with a side of clogged arteries," I joked.
"They have the best burgers here, but you can't be a fat fashion designer. So I only treat myself after an intense date with my Stairmaster."
"You're beautiful. You could eat burgers every day, and you'd still be the most beautiful woman in New York," I replied.
Alice looked at me and smiled before picking up her menu. We placed our order. Alice still went with her salad, explaining their homemade raspberry vinaigrette was to die for while I got the burger on her suggestion.
"That burger looks amazing," she whined, eyeing my burger as the waitress placed it in front of me. I had to admit it did, as well as it smelled amazing.
"You could have gotten one, you know?" I grinned.
"You can't eat burgers on a first date."
"And who made that rule up?" I scoffed.
"There's no cute way to eat a burger on a first date. If I pick it up and dive in, I'll look like Miss Piggy. I can't cut it into pieces because then I'll look like a pretentious asshole who can't eat a burger with her hands," she prattled on. I couldn't help but laugh at her ridiculousness. If my girl wanted a burger, she should have one. I cut my burger in half and handed it to her.
"No, I couldn't." She waved off.
"Alice, take the damn burger," I told her.
She smiled shyly at me before taking the half-burger and biting into it. She moaned in delight and that made JJ shoot up in delight. The sound of her moan, the way she peaked her tongue out of her mouth to catch excess sauce before sucking the juices off her fingers, had me rock hard. It was better than any porn I'd ever seen.
Does this make me a foodie?
"Want to try some of my salad?" she asked.
"No, it's fine."
"No, for real. It's no burger, but the dressing is to die for." She pushed it toward me.
I tried a few bites of her salad. I do admit it was good—very sweet, which is surprising for a salad. I could see introducing a few of those into my diet.
"Not bad, right?" she quizzed.
"I see you tend to be right about a lot of things, Miss Brandon."
"Am I right about you?" she asked.
"Depends. What do you think of me?" I pressed.
"I'll let you know by the end of our date." She winked.
"You just love keeping me in suspense." I laughed.
"So you seem to know a lot more about me than I do you, Mr. Whitlock. Let's rectify that. Tell me about yourself."
"There's not much to tell. I'm a simple guy. My family and friends mean more to me than anything. At times, I feel as though I don't deserve them, but I'm blessed to have them. I volunteer at an inner-city youth center on the weekends teaching kickboxing to the kids. Those kids hold a special place in my heart. I'm working on getting approved for a grant to get a building and up my classes per week. This is really what I'd love to be doing every day—helping youth stay off the streets and out of the gangs and give them somewhere to put all their aggression. Adults seem to forget kids have stresses too. They get frustrated, and they need to channel it into good things, so I hope I can get this grant."
"Wow, so admirable. I donate all the clothes I can to the women's shelters. I also sponsored Project Runway Kids, but now with what you do, you make me feel like I'm not doing enough."
She laughed.
"Anything is enough; even the smallest gesture can go a long way. Not that your gesture was small. It's admirable. You're admirable, as hard as you work. Speaking of work. How's the orders for the new line going? Okay, I'm rambling. I'm going to stop now." My accent was slipping as I rambled. I was nervous about fucking up and saying the wrong thing to this woman.
"You're cute when you're nervous." She smiled.
"I feel like I never know what to say to you," I mumbled.
Then how about we stop talking altogether and head to your place?" she said, sipping her water and eyeing me over the top of her glass.
"My place?" I squeaked.
"Yeah. I'd normally say mine, but Bella and Edward are crashing with me for a few days, but you don't live far right?" she asked.
"No just, uh, right around the corner."
"Check please!" she sang.
I excused myself for a smoke, throwing enough bills on the table to settle the bill when the waitress came by with the check. I went out front of the building and let out a shaky breath, lighting up my cigarette. It did nothing to calm my nerves this time. The nicotine filled my lungs as anxiety filled my heart. What was I going to do? I'd have to come clean. This was the moment I could lose my angel forever. She met me out front, letting me know the Town Car should arrive any moment.
"Sorry, let me put this out," I said, about to flick my cigarette to the ground.
"No, give it here," she said.
I slipped the menthol into her awaiting fingers and watched in awe as she brought it to her lips, taking a long drag and releasing the smoke through her nose and mouth with a sigh. That was the hottest shit I'd ever seen. I wished I was that cigarette.
"I know a lady shouldn't smoke but…"
I cut her off with my lips as I kissed her passionately. I could still taste the raspberry vinaigrette on her tongue with a hint of tobacco. She moaned, fisting my shirt and bringing me closer to her. I slid my hand down the curve of her back before giving her ass a firm squeeze. She attacked my mouth with vigor at that point, nibbling on my bottom lip before sucking my tongue into her mouth. I groaned, becoming increasingly more turned on by the second. Her Town Car pulled up. We broke apart just long enough for air and to dive into the vehicle before we joined mouths again. In my lust-induced haze when the driver asked where to, I muttered Emmett's address.
What the fuck am I doing?
We stumbled out of the Town Car into the lobby of Emmett's building. I could see her eyes shining in surprise as she eyed the elegance of the lobby.
"You live here?" she quizzed.
"Uh-huh," I mumbled, kissing her and dragging her into the newly opened elevator. I pushed twenty-two. Once the doors shut, she attacked me with her lips. I palmed her ass before jousting her up by the thighs, wrapping them around my waist and pressing her into the wall next to me. My lips found her neck as she tugged on my blond locks, whimpering my name. The sound went immediately to my dick, who apparently could get harder. I marked her with my lips. I know it was a dick thing to do, but I couldn't shake the need to claim her as my own.
I carried her out of the elevator and fumbled with my wallet to grab the keycard to Emmett's loft. He gave me an extra keycard when I housesat for him the month he spent in Tokyo. I opened the door and carried Alice into the apartment, not breaking contact with her neck, trailing my tongue down to take a nip at the top of her full breast.
"Nice place," she moaned.
"Thanks," I said, carrying her over to the couch.
In seconds I had her flat on her back with me hovering between her legs, grinding my dick into her soft center.
"Yes! Just like that." She moaned, driving me wild.
I hooked my left hand behind her knee, bringing her leg up higher, giving me better access. She moaned louder, so that was my cue she liked it. I pulled her breasts out of her bra, massaging them softly. She bit her lip, and I sucked on her perfectly pink nipples, alternating between the two.
"Jasper …" she called my name, fueling my desire.
"Yes, baby?"
"Please, I need you," she whined.
I pulled her dress the rest of the way off, leaving her exposed to me in nothing but her lacey blue thong.
"You're so gorgeous, baby," I said, licking her neck and trailing my way down to the valley of her breasts.
"And perfect," I said, swiping her nipple with my tongue.
"You're the most perfect woman I ever met," I whispered, dipping my tongue in her belly button.
Her breathing quickened the lower I got.
"You are my dream girl," I stated, now at her center.
I pushed her moist thong aside, peeking at her garden.
She had the most perfect twat I'd ever seen. Her perfectly pink center almost had me creaming in my pants like a thirteen-year-old virgin. I ran my tongue over her slick folds, moaning at the taste. She was the sweetest thing I'd ever tasted.
"Oh, fuck," she whimpered as I took her clit between my lips. Her hips shot up off the couch as she gripped my hair.
I used my fingers to tease her opening while softly stroking her folds with my tongue, leaving her withering beneath me.
"So good; don't stop," she moaned, tightening her grip. I could tell she was close, but I wasn't through with her yet. In an instant, I flipped her over, hiking her ass in the air before palming it with a light smack.
"Oh, yes, fuck," she groaned pushing her ass up farther, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder and looking back at me with a lust-filled gaze.
"You ready for this?" I asked her.
"Yes, please," she whined.
I undid my belt and slid my pants down just far enough for JJ to spring free. I grabbed a condom from my wallet and rolled it on. Her eyes feasted on my dick hungrily with every movement I made. I lined myself up with her entrance. I rubbed my dick between her slick folds. She muttered curses, dropping her head into the soft cushion of the couch. I pulled back and slid into her center with ease. She was wet and tight. She felt more amazing then I dreamed.
"Fuck, Alice baby, you feel so good." I moaned, accent be damned.
I could no longer put on a show; I didn't have it in me.
I moved slowly at first, giving her time to adjust to my length. When she started throwing back her hips, meeting my thrust, I picked up the pace, palming her ass and drilling her roughly from behind.
"Yes! Fuck, Jasper. Ohmygod," she screamed.
I thrust my hips, frantically chasing a happy ending for both of us. I gripped her hair, wrapping it around my hand and pulling her back against my chest so I could suck on her delectable neck while palming her full breast. The extra sensations sent my girl into a frenzy, and before I knew it, she was bouncing up and down on my dick with such enthusiasm it was taking everything for me to hold back this nut.
"Fuck, baby, I'm close," she whimpered.
I trailed my hand from her breast down her body until I found her clit. I pounded her from behind while rubbing her clit, sending my girl over the edge. She clenched around me, sucking me in deeper. I stilled inside her, filling the condom with my seed, then falling back, bringing my girl with me. We both lay still for a moment—no words between us, just heavy breathing. After a few moments, I lifted her up a bit to slide out of her. I slid the condom off, tossing it in the bin beside the couch. I looked back at Alice as I felt her body leave mine. By the time I registered what was happening, she was on her knees with my quickly hardening cock in her mouth. She released me with a pop while massaging my balls. She looked up at me through her lashes and said, "I'm not done with you yet."
_
We spent hours defiling many of the rooms in Emmett's house. Part of me felt bad, but knowing Emmett as I do, he'd probably high five me. I refused to have sex in his room, though that was more for me than him, opting to use one of the many guest rooms I've crashed in over the years. After hours of sex, we were fully spent. It was dark by the time we drifted off to sleep, fully sated. I woke up to the blaring of my phone. I grabbed it, silencing it, careful not to wake my angel. I stumbled out of the bedroom, closing the door with a soft click and making my way to the kitchen before answering.
"Hello," I answered, sleep thick in my voice.
"This is the office of Mayor Cullen. Do you have a moment?" the sweet voice of a woman asked.
"Uh, yeah," I answered lamely, still in my post-sleep haze.
"Okay, one moment; I'll patch you through," she said. I heard soft music for half a second before the voice of Carlisle Cullen filtered through my earpiece.
I can't believe the freaking Mayor is calling me.
"Jasper Hale, I'm glad I could reach you. I hope I didn't wake you," he stated.
I looked at my watch and saw it's 5:00 a.m. Of course, he woke me. There are few people getting a start this early. It was a slim chance I was one of those people.
"Not at all, sir. How can I help you?" I asked, truly confused as to why I was on the phone with the freaking Mayor of New York City.
"Well, Mr. Hale your proposal for The Youth Activities Center came across the desk of this administration, and I was thoroughly impressed," Mayor Cullen stated.
"You were?" I asked shocked.
"Yes, especially the part where everything isn't government funded. You're gaining money from the community while also giving back to it. That's what is going to help New York prosper instead of bankrupting it. So, I'd like to offer you a grant and hire you to oversee the whole operation," he said.
I felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest and go crashing to the floor beneath my feet. I couldn't believe this was happening. This was everything I'd ever dreamed, happening at this very moment.
"Thank you, Mayor Cullen; of course, I accept."
"Great, so we're going to announce the project at this year's children's fundraiser, considering the grant money is coming from the many donations that night. I'll present a speech about it. I just need you to be in attendance as I reference you, and I'll bring all the paperwork we need there."
"Sounds like a plan. Thank you, sir."
No, thank you. This is the best idea that has crossed my desk this term; see you next week. My assistant will email you the details." And with that, he disconnected the line.
I leaned against the counter, releasing a breath I didn't know I was holding. This felt like a dream; it didn't feel real. What do you say, what do you do, when you get everything you ever dreamed of? I felt stuck on stupid. I stumbled back to the bedroom, crawling back in bed beside Alice. Black waves splayed across the crisp white sheets housing her delicate body. I thought she was still asleep until she whispered, "Who was that?"
"I got it, babe. I got the grant. The Youths Activities Center is happening."
"I'm so proud of you, Jasper," she said, facing me and kissing my shoulder softly.
"I don't mean to bring you down or anything, but after seeing this place, how are you going to afford to maintain it? Grants don't pay this kind of money." my girl was smart. I knew she'd catch on.
"Then I'll downsize, babe; the important thing is I'd be living my dream and helping people."
"Opposed to what? You never told me what you do now?" she whispered, head on my right pec playing with my happy trail.
"Well, I'm a collector," I trailed.
Of trash.
"Collector of what?"
Of trash.
"Of things?"
"What kinds of things? Why are you being so vague," she asked.
"I'm not. It's of many things …" I trailed off.
"Fine, who do you work for?"
"My company has a government contract for all the museums in New York State, but I mainly focus on the history museum."
"That's so cool. History buff, huh?" She smiled up at me.
I'm a fraud."You could say that," I whispered.
"That's cool that you collect things for the museum, such a philanthropist. I can't imagine what some of those artifacts are worth. No wonder you're loaded."
"As exciting as this talk of my job is, shouldn't you be getting to yours," I teased.
"You're right. I have to be at the Times Square location at six. Shower with me?" As if she had to ask. I chased after her, scoping her into my arms as she giggled and carried her to the shower.
After making love in the shower, we got dressed; lucky for me, I had a few shirts here. Alice was too worried about her walk of shame to notice what I was wearing. I walked her to work. We may have made out like teenagers before I actually let her go inside. I returned to Emmett's apartment to clean up our mess. I washed and changed the sheets with a smile on my face. Flushed the condoms, made the bed, and left without a trace. I'd eventually tell him the truth, but not while he was in Chicago handling business, though I doubt he'd care either way.
I locked up Emmett's apartment and made my way outside toward the subway. I was a block away from the terminal when I felt a presence behind me. I turned around, and the first thing I saw was that cheap suit and a taunting smile.
"Having fun with my leftovers?" Demetri taunted.
"Please. I had her first, dude. You were tasting my nut," I argued, riding out the lie we created together.
"Jasper, Jasper, Jasper; that lie is about as fake as your accent."
"Excuse me?"
"The jig is up. I know who you are. It just took me a while to peg. It wasn't until Peter called me with some diamonds he wanted to fence that I realized who you are, Jasper Hale. You grew up in the same slums as me, and I heard you're still mopping floors, trying to get your pipe dream off the ground. Alice Brandon wouldn't waste her time with you." He laughed.
"Or at least, I thought so until I saw you tonguing her down this morning, which brought me to the only logical conclusion she doesn't know about you." He laughed again.
"She thought she was slumming it with me, and she got YOU." He continued to laugh.
"What do you want?" I asked, ditching the accent. I was made anyway.
"Now we are talking. If you want to maintain some of your dignity, you'll end it, cut her ass off. She needs to know what it feels like to be dumped. If I ever see or hear about you with her again, I'll tell her everything. About you, your criminal brother, your mom, everything, and we can see how quick she tosses you back to Long Island with your tail between your legs." And with that, he left me standing on the sidewalk in shambles.
I don't even remember the subway ride home. I was numb. I felt the emptiness because of what I had to do. It was a lose-lose situation; if I tell her or don't, I still lose her. Part of me somewhere knew she deserved the truth, but I was a coward. I couldn't look at the disappointment in her eyes as I told her everything was a lie. For the next several days, I was hollow. I took my vacation days from work because I'd either use them or lose them. I wallowed in bed in self-pity, ignoring everyone's calls. My sister and brother came by, banging on the door, but I wouldn't let them in. I shot them a text saying I'm alive and that's it before turning my phone back off. I couldn't bare the calls and texts from Alice. Her concern was too much for me. By day three, I had the courage to turn my phone back on. My inbox was full of concerned, and some angry, texts from Alice and others. The "I am a selfish asshole" text was the gist of the messages from my family.
After I finished most of the messages, a call came through; it was Alice. Reluctantly, I answered the phone. I knew it had to be done.
"Jasper?" she asked. My heart broke. Her tone was low and defeated. I could tell she'd been crying, and it just broke my heart.
"Yeah …" I answered weakly.
"Thank God, you're okay. Where have you been?" she asked.
"Alice, I can't see you anymore," I whispered. The silence between us was deafening. I didn't know what to say next, and I gathered she didn't either.
"Why?" she asked after a few moments.
"We're too different. Take care, Ali," I said before disconnecting the call.
I've only cried once in my life, and that was when my grandma died. A tear fell out of the corner of my eye, and I was useless to stop it. I felt like my heart was shattering, and I barely knew this girl. Why does she have such a hold on my heart? I wiped my eyes and sucked it up. This is what I deserved. I brought this on myself. I didn't deserve to be sad. When Saturday rolled around, I really didn't feel like going to this gala, but I knew this grant depended on my presence, so I showered and shaved, throwing on the tux I rented for the evening.
I finally turned my phone on and was met with text messages that shook me to my core.
Emmett: I came home early to a chick crying at my door asking for you. I wasn't sure if she was crazy, but I told her you don't live here. What's going on, bro? Maggie: I know you're on vacation, just know a young lady was by here looking for you. They sent her back here to janitorial. Steve told her you were on vacation. She wouldn't leave a number. Rose: You selfish asshole. You never told her! She just showed up at the agency, saying she went by your place in Manhattan, and a guy said you don't live there. Your job said the only Jasper they know is Jasper Hale in janitorial. That left me the job of telling her the truth, you coward. You better call her. The girl is devastated. I'm so disappointed in you, brother.
When I was done reading the messages, my stomach was in knots. She knows the truth. The ride to the gala was a blur. I sat at my assigned table, awkward and alone. Many people tried to spark conversation in which I knew I should be networking, but I had no interest. I was miserable, and I didn't want company. I just wanted this night to end so I could get out of this monkey suit and on with my life. I heard a commotion by the door as reporters waved, yelling "Mayor Cullen" in hopes of get their questions answered. I made my way over to the mayor before my heart skipped a beat. On his left arm was his beautiful wife Esme Cullen, and on his right, Alice. As if she felt my presence, her eyes shot to mine, and surprise echoed in her features before a look of pain. I felt like the air was knocked out of my chest. I never wanted to cause that look of pain on my angel's face. She looked radiant as always, her hair was pushed back from her face and fell in soft tendrils down her back. Her dark red lips contrasted against the pure white fabric of her dress. She really looked like an angel tonight. I wanted to do nothing more than take her in my arms and kiss her, showing her how sorry I was.
"Ah, Jasper, there you are. I wanted you to meet my stepdaughter, Alice Brandon. Ali darling, this is Jasper Hale. He'll be this year's grant recipient," he spoke. We stared at each other, not breaking eye contact. Mayor Cullen arched his eyebrow in question.
"You two know each other?" he asked confused.
"No, I thought I knew a Jasper, but everything I knew about that one was a lie. Excuse me," Alice said before breaking away from her father's arm and dashing out of the gala, paparazzi snapping pictures in her departure.
"If I find out you did anything to my daughter, you can kiss this grant goodbye." He spoke tensely through a fake smile, shaking my hand for the press. I wanted to run after her, beg her forgiveness, tell her I'm sorry, and to ask her to take me back. But the fact remains what I always knew from the beginning—the reason I was willing to let her go. I didn't deserve Alice Brandon. Never did, and never would.