Read Online Too Little, Too Late by Victoria Christopher Murray - Free Book Online
Authors: Victoria Christopher Murray
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the part where he held her. And loved her. And forgave her—again.
“I wish to God that I’d never told those lies, Malik. And now I wish I could tell the truth. But I can’t, especially not now. Not with Natasia in the picture. I can’t do anything that could give her an in with Hosea.”
“Natasia doesn’t have anything to do with your marriage. Hosea’s not like that.” Malik joined her at the window. “Promise me you’ll really pray about this, because I don’t want to think about what would happen if…”
He stopped, but Jasmine knew what his next words would be. This was a warning, just like the one he’d given her on the day her world came tumbling down…
It was supposed to be the best day of her life—eighteen months ago, the day Jacqueline was born.
But hell had opened up when Malik came to visit at the hospital bearing flowers and condemnation.
“The only reason I keep harping on you telling Hosea the truth about the baby is because I know that the longer the secret goes on, the worse it will be,” Malik had said as the two sat alone in her hospital room.
At that moment, Jasmine had been sorry that she’d ever confided in Malik about her baby’s paternity. “Why do you keep insisting that Hosea will find out? He won’t.”
“Jasmine, secrets never stay silent.”
Then she’d blurted out, “Hosea will never find out that he’s not Jacqueline’s father!” right before Reverend Bush walked in.
She had wanted to die right there. The reverend had heard everything. And he had forced Jasmine to tell Hosea the truth.
“I know you blame me for that secret coming out.” Malik interrupted her memory. “And I’m sorry.”
She turned away from him, but he didn’t stop.
“It’s just that before your dad passed away, I promised him that I would take care of you and Serena.” He paused when she faced him. “Your sister’s easy. But you…”
Now Jasmine smiled. “I don’t blame you, Malik.” When he raised his eyebrows, she said, “Okay, I did blame you, but I don’t anymore. It all worked out then and I’m going to be fine now. Don’t worry. I have everything under control this time.”
Malik nodded, although she knew that he still didn’t agree. But all he did was embrace her, and with his arms, told her that he hoped she was right.
ELEVEN
J ASMINE WAS BRILLIANT .
At least, that’s what she kept telling herself. Her grin was spread all across her face as she rode up in the elevator.
It was an inspiring idea that had come to her in the middle of the night. So inspiring that for hours she’d lain awake, counting the minutes until morning.
Then at the day’s first light, she’d jumped from bed, even as Hosea reached for her. “Sorry, babe.” She scurried toward the bathroom. “I’ve got an early meeting.”
It was a lie, but just a little one. She did have a meeting—of sorts—with the woman who always rescued her.
“Jasmine Larson,” Mae Frances began the moment she swung open the door. “What’s got you all fired up?”
“I’ve figured out how to stop Natasia before she gets started.” Her voice was shaking with excitement.
“How?”
“I know how to end her games right here in New York. Make sure that she doesn’t even get on that plane to Los Angeles.”
“Would you stop babbling!”
“We’re sending Natasia to Africa!” Jasmine beamed.
Mae Frances frowned. As Jasmine paced, she explained.
“You’re gonna call Natasia, pretend you’re some president or prime minister or tribal chief or something, tell her that you’ve personally taken an interest in her case—because of all of her accomplishments—and then get her on a plane to Africa.” She spread her arms open wide. “I am brilliant.”
With her hands planted on her hips, Mae Frances looked at Jasmine as if she wondered when her brain had stopped working. “And she’s gonna get on a plane to Africa because…”
“Remember she wants to adopt a child? So here’s her
“I wish to God that I’d never told those lies, Malik. And now I wish I could tell the truth. But I can’t, especially not now. Not with Natasia in the picture. I can’t do anything that could give her an in with Hosea.”
“Natasia doesn’t have anything to do with your marriage. Hosea’s not like that.” Malik joined her at the window. “Promise me you’ll really pray about this, because I don’t want to think about what would happen if…”
He stopped, but Jasmine knew what his next words would be. This was a warning, just like the one he’d given her on the day her world came tumbling down…
It was supposed to be the best day of her life—eighteen months ago, the day Jacqueline was born.
But hell had opened up when Malik came to visit at the hospital bearing flowers and condemnation.
“The only reason I keep harping on you telling Hosea the truth about the baby is because I know that the longer the secret goes on, the worse it will be,” Malik had said as the two sat alone in her hospital room.
At that moment, Jasmine had been sorry that she’d ever confided in Malik about her baby’s paternity. “Why do you keep insisting that Hosea will find out? He won’t.”
“Jasmine, secrets never stay silent.”
Then she’d blurted out, “Hosea will never find out that he’s not Jacqueline’s father!” right before Reverend Bush walked in.
She had wanted to die right there. The reverend had heard everything. And he had forced Jasmine to tell Hosea the truth.
“I know you blame me for that secret coming out.” Malik interrupted her memory. “And I’m sorry.”
She turned away from him, but he didn’t stop.
“It’s just that before your dad passed away, I promised him that I would take care of you and Serena.” He paused when she faced him. “Your sister’s easy. But you…”
Now Jasmine smiled. “I don’t blame you, Malik.” When he raised his eyebrows, she said, “Okay, I did blame you, but I don’t anymore. It all worked out then and I’m going to be fine now. Don’t worry. I have everything under control this time.”
Malik nodded, although she knew that he still didn’t agree. But all he did was embrace her, and with his arms, told her that he hoped she was right.
ELEVEN
J ASMINE WAS BRILLIANT .
At least, that’s what she kept telling herself. Her grin was spread all across her face as she rode up in the elevator.
It was an inspiring idea that had come to her in the middle of the night. So inspiring that for hours she’d lain awake, counting the minutes until morning.
Then at the day’s first light, she’d jumped from bed, even as Hosea reached for her. “Sorry, babe.” She scurried toward the bathroom. “I’ve got an early meeting.”
It was a lie, but just a little one. She did have a meeting—of sorts—with the woman who always rescued her.
“Jasmine Larson,” Mae Frances began the moment she swung open the door. “What’s got you all fired up?”
“I’ve figured out how to stop Natasia before she gets started.” Her voice was shaking with excitement.
“How?”
“I know how to end her games right here in New York. Make sure that she doesn’t even get on that plane to Los Angeles.”
“Would you stop babbling!”
“We’re sending Natasia to Africa!” Jasmine beamed.
Mae Frances frowned. As Jasmine paced, she explained.
“You’re gonna call Natasia, pretend you’re some president or prime minister or tribal chief or something, tell her that you’ve personally taken an interest in her case—because of all of her accomplishments—and then get her on a plane to Africa.” She spread her arms open wide. “I am brilliant.”
With her hands planted on her hips, Mae Frances looked at Jasmine as if she wondered when her brain had stopped working. “And she’s gonna get on a plane to Africa because…”
“Remember she wants to adopt a child? So here’s her
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