Matched by Design, page 7
Jasmine swallowed the lump in her throat, closing her eyes against the pain. “I know her step-father is a surgeon, if that’s what you mean. She’s never told me his name.”
“But he’ll be at the wedding?” Isaac pressed.
Anger bubbled up inside Jasmine, but she shoved it back. “I’m assuming, but I don’t know. I’ll send you the flight info when I have it and call you in a day or two with the details.”
“Okay.” Isaac was quiet for a moment. “I’m glad I ran into you today, Jasmine.”
Because of Dr. Braithe. He didn’t say the words, but she heard the unspoken end to that sentence.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” Jasmine said, making her voice steely. “The only reason I asked for your help is because I’m desperate. We aren’t friends anymore. You’ve made that very clear.”
Silence flooded the line. Jasmine pressed a hand to her stomach, feeling sick. Would he change his mind? She should keep her opinions to herself until after the wedding.
“I understand,” Isaac said finally. “I’ll keep an eye out for the email. Have a good night.”
That was all he had to say? Jasmine swallowed hard. “Bye.”
She hung up, but the relief she’d expected didn’t come. Yes, Isaac was going with her to Isla del Amor. But it was only because he wanted to meet Skye’s step-father. If Dr. Braithe hadn’t been part of the equation, Isaac would have flatly refused to go along with her lies.
Well, that was fine by her. They didn’t need to be friends. They just needed to put on a good show for Skye.
Jasmine would use Isaac just as much as he was using her. And then, at the end of the trip, they could both move on with their lives—lives they no longer shared with each other.
Chapter Eight
Isaac glanced around his apartment one last time, double checking that he hadn’t left anything behind. They’d be in Isla del Amor for a full week, and he wasn’t sure what kind of amenities were available there. His online research had told him that it was a small private island in the Florida Keys, owned by the same company that ran the island’s exclusive fifty-eight room resort. The resort’s website boasted a world-class spa, five-star restaurant, and white sandy beaches, but hadn’t mentioned if there was anywhere to shop if you forgot to bring toothpaste or had a sudden need for cold medicine. It was a twenty-minute boat ride from Key West, which meant it was nearly four hours from Miami.
He took a deep breath, then grabbed his suitcase and rolled it out of the apartment, making sure to lock up tightly. Jasmine had suggested they share a cab to the airport—something about keeping up appearances for Skye, who would be taking the same flight as them—and Isaac had quickly agreed. This weekend wouldn’t be easy. Jasmine was hurt and upset, which she had every right to be. But he was going to do his best to make this as easy on her as possible.
Not that he didn’t expect her to test his patience. She’d been bull-headed, even as a kid, and had only grown more tenacious with age. That tenacity had glowed in her eyes during their frequent coffee breaks at the hospital, where she’d spoken about how much she wanted to one day open her own label. He had no doubt that she’d accomplish it and wasn’t at all surprised she’d found as lucrative an opportunity as a celebrity wedding to help reach her goal.
The late August heat hit Isaac full in the face, making him instantly regret the blue button-up shirt with long sleeves he’d chosen for the day. He’d wanted to make a good impression on everyone for Jasmine’s sake and so had chosen business casual, despite the heat and impending plane ride.
Isaac rested his briefcase and single suitcase next to a bench just outside his building. His wrist watch showed two minutes until the ride share should arrive with Jasmine, but she wasn’t known for her punctuality.
He sat down on the bench, closing his eyes. How was he supposed to spend an entire week pretending to be her fiancé? A week without so much as a scalpel to distract him from the grief that surrounded her.
If only he hadn’t spent his first three years as a resident focusing so much on plastics. If he could just speak to Dr. Braithe, Isaac was certain he’d be able to change the doctor’s mind. Had he even looked at Isaac’s application, or had one of his fellows—or maybe even an intern—pre-screened them? They’d probably seen Isaac’s lack of experience and automatically relegated him to the no pile and sent the form rejection letter.
Maybe Dr. Braithe had no idea who Isaac even was.
He’d meet the doctor and change that no to a yes this week. Prove to Jasmine that he was doing everything in his power to atone for Quincy’s death.
Isaac lit up his phone screen, checking the time. She was nearly ten minutes late now. He swiped over to her text, wondering if he’d gotten the time wrong. But no, she’d said eight o’clock, and it was now eight-twelve. Sure, she tended to run a bit late, but they had a plane to catch. Shouldn’t she at least try to be on time for that?
Maybe she’d changed her mind. Fear had Isaac’s stomach churning, but he forced it back. Jasmine would never ghost someone. She wasn’t him.
Why hadn’t he realized that disappearing like that would only hurt her more?
Fifteen minutes. At this rate, they were going to miss their plane.
This whole thing was not only ludicrous, but awkward. How were they supposed to convince everyone they were an engaged couple when she could barely look at him without tearing up?
It was probably better if she didn’t show up. Isaac could go back up to his apartment, slip into his scrub bottoms, and get back to yelling at the TV screen about the inaccuracies in the medical drama he’d been binge watching. Maybe rewatch a few of his favorite football games.
A full twenty minutes after Jasmine’s projected arrival time, a mid-sized silver car pulled up to the curb. Isaac caught a glimpse of her dark curly hair through the back window, but she didn’t bother getting out of the car. Not that Isaac could blame her. The August heat was sweltering today.
The trunk popped open and Isaac stared in amazement at the four suitcases inside.
A long-forgotten memory came back to him of watching Jasmine jump up and down on a worn black suitcase. She’d been a high school senior at the time, and he and Quincy had been home from college for a three-day weekend.
“What are you doing?” Isaac had asked, watching in amusement as Jasmine splayed herself flat on the suitcase with a grunt.
She’d blown out her breath, puffing her bangs off her forehead. Only two months later she’d declared bangs a horrible decision and started growing them out, but he’d been quite taken with the new haircut.
It had been the first time he’d truly looked at Jasmine and realized how much she’d grown and matured.
“I’m packing for our away track meet,” she’d said with an eye roll. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“It looks like you’re packing for a year-long trek around the world,” Isaac had said, leaning against the door frame. “You know you’ll be gone less than twenty-four hours, right?”
“Yes—twenty-four hours in which I need to be prepared for a multitude of different fashion situations. Can you come sit on this so I can zip it closed?” Her eyes had run up and down the length of his body, making him very aware of just how alone they were.
“You want me to sit on your suitcase?”
She nodded, hopping onto the floor. “I just need someone to put weight on it while I zip it shut.”
“Okay.” Isaac cautiously stepped over the threshold, the faint apple scent of Jasmine’s shampoo swirling around him. He’d never been in her bedroom before. A turquoise comforter was accented with furry pillows in a bright white, and a small desk with a laptop stood in one corner.
“Use your weight to squeeze it shut,” Jasmine said.
Isaac nodded, shoving down on the top of the suitcase. Jasmine tugged at the zipper, finally pulling it closed with a triumphant, “Ha!”
“We did it!” she exclaimed, holding out her hand for a high-five. “Thanks, Isaac.”
“Of course,” he’d said.
And that’s when the zipper had popped. The top of the suitcase sprang open, and clothes tumbled across the bed, a pair of socks skittering over the floor.
Isaac grinned at the memory as he tried to rearrange the car’s trunk to fit his own suitcase. He hadn’t thought of that day in years.
It took two tries, but with a little extra weight he managed to get the trunk to latch closed with all five suitcases safely inside.
Isaac slid inside the car, the memory of that long-forgotten day still making him grin. “You know we’re only going to be gone for a week, right?”
But Jasmine’s glower brought him right back down to earth.
Quincy was dead. He’d hurt Jasmine deeply, and now he wasn’t even sure they were friends.
“Of course I know how long we’re going to be gone,” Jasmine snapped. “But this isn’t just any week—it’s a week on an exclusive private island for a celebrity wedding. I can’t be caught in the wrong outfit at something like this. It would be career suicide. I had to pack for a lot of different scenarios.”
A deep ache caught Isaac off guard, slicing across him. He missed the easy camaraderie that had once been between them.
“I wasn’t being critical,” Isaac said as the driver pulled into the busy Los Angeles traffic. “Actually, I was remembering that track meet your senior year. Remember how the zipper broke after we finally got your suitcase shut? It looked like a department store had exploded in your bedroom.”
Jasmine folded her arms tightly across her stomach, turning away from him and staring steadfastly out the window. “Don’t, Isaac.”
The words hung in the air. He wanted to ask what she meant—don’t remind her of the past? Don’t talk to her?
But instead he cleared his throat, scrambling for a subject change. “We’re running twenty-five minutes late. How worried should I be about missing the plane?”
“We’ve got plenty of time,” Jasmine said dismissively. “Are you ready for this?”
Talk about a loaded question. “I am if you are.”
She grunted in response.
Isaac had expected to spend the car ride to the airport coming up with a game plan for the week. They’d only spoken once on the phone since he’d agreed to come with her, and the conversation had been brief. But the ride to the airport was silent except for the hip-hop music and driver’s curses.
At the departure terminal, Isaac opened the door and inhaled, gulping in the judgment-free exhaust of the drop-off area.
Jasmine’s voice stopped him before he climbed out.
“Please try and keep up the pretenses this week. No one can know we’re not really engaged, okay? This is my job were talking about. I know that you don’t care about what happens to me, but my career is very important to me and I’d hate to see it go up in flames because you can’t act.”
The words stung. Isaac stepped out of the cab, needing time to think before responding. He slammed the door with more force than necessary and stared at Jasmine over the top of the cab. Her head was barely visible above it. “That’s painting with a pretty broad brush. You’re making a lot of assumptions in that statement.”
“I call it like I see it.”
“You need glasses then.” They reached for the popped trunk at the same time, his fingers accidentally grazing her arm. She pulled back as though burned.
“You’ve been totally ignoring me for two months,” Jasmine snapped. “I know I used to just be the obnoxious little sister of your best friend, but silly me—I thought we’d actually become friends too over the past few years. But you didn’t answer my calls. Didn’t reply to my texts. Didn’t answer the door when I knew you were home. I’m not an idiot, Isaac. I heard you mute the television.”
Her words sliced through Isaac, and he dipped his head, focusing on tugging the suitcases out of the trunk. “I know I handled things badly—”
Jasmine’s snort interrupted him. She reached into the trunk and pulled one of her own suitcases out, grunting with the effort. There was no way that bag was going to be under the weight limit.
“You know what, Isaac? I’m not interested in hearing your explanations. You can keep whatever ridiculous excuse you’ve concocted to yourself. We don’t have to talk about it this week. In fact, I’d prefer that we didn’t.”
Ice filtered through Isaac’s veins at her cold words. “Jasmine—”
“No.”
She rested a bag on one shoulder and struggled to reach for the handles of her other three rolling suitcases. Isaac rolled his eyes and grabbed the strap of her bag, slinging it over his own shoulder. Then he grabbed the handle of one of her suitcases and headed toward the sliding doors of the terminal.
Jasmine followed behind him, her heels clicking against the pavement with each step. “I could’ve done it myself, you know.”
“You don’t always have to be so stubborn, Jas.”
“Don’t call me that. We aren’t at nickname status anymore.”
There was no mistaking the venom in her voice now, not that Isaac could really blame her.
The automatic doors swept open, revealing the bustling airport terminal. Isaac leaned close so that his voice would only reach Jasmine’s ears and lowered it to a murmur. “If you keep talking to me like that, you’re going to blow this whole little secret of ours wide-open. Not me.”
The fire in her eyes dimmed, but she kept her shoulders straight and proud. “I don’t see anyone that we need to pretend for yet. I promise I’ll be the ideal simpering fiancée the moment the role is called for. Worry about your own performance.”
Ouch. Isaac was going to need armor for this week, he could tell.
Check-in went off without a hitch. Soon Isaac was lifting all five of their bags onto the conveyor belt and watching them disappear.
“After you,” he said, motioning to the security line.
Jasmine didn’t comment and headed toward the line with brisk strides. Isaac tried not to stare at her lean legs as she tried to out-pace him. She wore tight black leggings with a sort of shirt/dress thing in a vibrant yellow, and a chunky brown belt that accentuated her thin waist.
Over the past two months, he’d almost convinced himself that the chemistry between them had been all in his head. But yeah. He definitely hadn’t been imagining things.
Isaac barely hid a smile when Jasmine slipped out of her shoes to go through the metal detectors. She shrunk at least five inches without those heels and he found it oddly adorable.
He shook his head, focusing on removing his laptop and tablet from the briefcase and placing them in a separate bin. He was here to talk with Dr. Braithe and beg for a spot in the fellowship.
Once he accomplished that, he could focus on fixing his friendship with Jasmine.
Chapter Nine
Genevieve was waiting for them at the gate. Isaac recognized her immediately—tall and slender, with honey-blonde hair that ended bluntly just below her chin. Severe eyes and lips pursed together in a frown.
Jasmine had always complained that her boss was tough and, for whatever reason, didn’t seem to like her. But after actually meeting Genevieve, Isaac realized that Jasmine might have downplayed the severity of the situation.
Genevieve rose immediately from her hard plastic chair and strode toward them, eyes flashing.
“You made it,” she said. “I was beginning to wonder.”
Jasmine glanced at her phone, her lips stretching into a grimace Isaac figured was suppose to pass as a smile. “Are we late? I’m sorry. I thought we agreed to meet at ten o’clock.”
“We did,” Genevieve said.
Isaac surreptitiously glanced at his own wrist watch. Nine fifty-eight.
“Well, we’re here now,” Jasmine said. “You remember Isaac? My fiancé.”
“Of course.” Genevieve barely glanced at him. “Jasmine, I made sure all the baggage was checked but I’m a little concerned…”
Isaac tuned them out as the talk turned to wardrobe concerns and design issues. Jasmine had said Skye and Drew were taking the same flight as them, but she hadn’t said a thing about Dr. Braithe. Chances of him being on the same flight were slim, since he worked at a hospital in Texas, but maybe—
“Oh, there’s Skye,” Jasmine said, interrupting his thoughts. She raised her hand and waved.
The perky blonde flounced across the airport terminal as though it were her own personal stage, an entourage following close behind. Isaac immediately recognized Drew Dempsey, the quarterback for the Vigilantes and resident scumbag fiancé. But he also recognized the bridesmaid from the café. He assumed the other men and women were members of the wedding party, or maybe just friends and family who were also traveling to Isla del Amor for the wedding.
“Viv,” Skye said, flinging her arms around Genevieve’s shoulders and giving her air kisses on each cheek while Drew stood silently by. “Can you believe it’s finally here?”
“A week from yesterday,” Genevieve said with a wide smile that made Isaac wince. All those teeth made her seem like a lioness about to devour her prey. “Who would have thought when we met in yoga class all those years ago that we’d end up here?”
“Not me,” Skye said with a laugh. She held out her arms to Jasmine, and the two women embraced.
“I’m so glad you got here safely,” Jasmine said. “Are you ready to get the festivities started?”
“I’ll be more ready once we’re finally in Isla del Amor.” Skye’s smile transformed into a scowl. “I still can’t believe there isn’t a direct flight from Los Angeles to Key West. Changing planes in Miami, then taking a boat from Key West to Isla del Amor…” She heaved out a sigh, as though she had to make the nearly three thousand mile trek on foot. “What a nightmare. Drew and I thought about chartering a plane for ourselves and the wedding party—they do have a small airstrip on Isla del Amor, you know—but in the end I decided to put that money toward the wedding.”
“Smart choice,” Jasmine said.
