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Jasmine glanced at her phone clock. She still had two rooms to freshen up and prepare for the next guests. “I have a few minutes.”
Belle took a deep breath before meeting her gaze. “You know I work as a sexual assault nurse examiner at the hospital.”
Jasmine shifted uneasily, eyes darting out to the ocean. Let’s talk about literally anything else. “Of course.”
“But I’ve never shared with you why I chose that line of work,” Belle said.
Jasmine wiped some sand off her mat.
“It’s one way I can take my power back.” Belle’s gaze burned the side of Jasmine’s face, but she didn’t look up.
Her body flushed with heat as her heart thundered. The instinct to run grated on her nerves, her feet shifting, preparing to flee. “Okay.”
Belle sighed. “I’ve been where you are. You must know that’s why I’m at the meetings with you. If you ever want to talk to someone who really gets it, I’m here. Night or day.”
Did Bently tell her the details? Would he betray my deepest, darkest secret? She trusted Belle, but still. She cringed. If they knew all the horrors she’d kept from them . . . they’d see how ruined she was.
She forced a smile, though her insides quaked. Pretending was a skill she’d honed since she was a child. Her survival depended on it. “I appreciate the offer. Truly, I am doing great. The inn is filling up. Zoey is healthy and happy. And I’m figuring out this thing with Atlas on my own.” I’m capable.
Belle nodded, the corners of her mouth curving upwards for a moment. She probably didn’t believe Jasmine, but at least she should drop it now.
“I’d better get going. I promised a certain sheriff I’d bring him his salad for lunch.” Belle’s eyes lit up when she spoke about Bently. If anyone deserved a happy ending, it was those two after the hell they’d been through. But happy endings were not realistic for everyone.
“Tell him I said he should get some of Betty Lou’s mozzarella sticks once in a while.” Jasmine laughed before heading over to the back porch.
Belle chuckled and waved, disappearing around the side of the inn. Jasmine’s smile faded as she set her mat against the edge of the porch. She wiped her shaky hands over her face. Her heart still raced.
“Rooms. Go clean the rooms,” she instructed herself, pulling up the to-do list in her mind of tasks she needed to accomplish for the day. She had to keep busy or her thoughts would go there. Back to the horrors she kept inside. Back to the memories. Back to her deepest shame.
* * *
Three hours later, both guest rooms were cleaned. She nodded along to upbeat pop music from the radio as she dipped the roller in fresh paint. The fumes of chemicals weren’t as strong with the windows open, but she’d still need to keep Zoey out of here for the next couple of days. She turned, admiring the large room. Someday it would be a great personal living space for her and Zoey. She picked up the paint roller and slid it over the wall as she shook her hips to the beat, getting lost in the music.
Soon, the first coat was finished. She closed the cover on the bucket of paint and hammered it shut. Sweat trickled down her neck. Wiping her hands on her old shorts, she moved to the window, needing a gust of fresh air. A tall figure walking down the path to the beach caught her attention. Atlas. His hand dropped, holding a phone as he looked towards the sky. His head fell as his shoulders bunched and then drooped. What was bothering him? He ran a hand through his dark hair, turning his face towards the sea. His profile highlighted the sharp edges and square cut of his jaw—tragically beautiful.
Maybe I’m projecting. Atlas probably knew nothing of the pain she’d endured. All the more reason to keep her distance. Men like him deserved someone whole. Someone who could have a relationship. And that wasn’t Jasmine.
“Jaz?”
Lincoln’s voice made her jump.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” Link chuckled.
She waved her hand. “Not hard to do.”
“I brought your car back.”
She swallowed. How much is it going to cost me this time? “Great.”
He gestured to the door. She exited first, and he followed as they made their way to the driveway.
“I got it running again, but I can’t promise how long it will last. I think this might be the final time. I can’t in good conscience have you and that little girl driving around in this hunk of junk.” Link held out the silver key chain to her, his dark skin contrasting against the metal. “I got a call out to a buddy. Waiting to hear back about a vehicle. We can work on a payment plan and get you in something safer.”
Jasmine’s stomach dropped as she took the keys from him. She couldn’t afford the cost of even the lowest of payment plans. There wasn’t eventwenty dollars to spare right now. “I don’t know, but I’ll keep it in mind. How much for the repairs?”
He sighed, hands in his pockets, looking between the car and her. “Bently already covered it.”
She clenched her fists. Heat radiated in her chest as anger spiked. “Why? This isn’t his car. I’ll pay you. Give him back his money.”
