With My Breath (Lose My Breath #1)

CHAPTER SIX

Greta’s eyes emit concern as she stares at us. Her red hair is in disarray, as if she’s been running her fingers frantically through it. Based on the look on her face, I know something terrible has happened.

Casimir sits upright on the bed, gathering himself as his hands thread through his hair.

“The driver is waiting downstairs. I will inform him you’re on your way down.”

Greta disappears into the hall, and I’m biting my lip, wondering how I can be of help.

I move my hand to Casimir’s shoulder, touching it softly as he turns to look at me, the blue fire in his eyes darkening his gaze.

“Do you need me to come with you,”

I ask gently but insistently.

Casimir gulps, and I choke back a swig. “Be ready in ten minutes,”

He demands, and he’s up and making his way out of my room before I can say anything else.

I leap out of the bed, hands gripping the thin sheet as I wrap it around me. My body is still unsteady, but as my vision slowly returns, I find my way through the bathroom and to the large walk-in closet. Once inside, I don’t concern myself with how large and fancy the closet is. I don’t even question if the clothes and shoes inside mine are Tianna’s or mine. I simply retrieve a white tennis skirt with a matching top and a pair of sneakers.

I pull the clothes across my body and slip into a pair of shoes, sneaking one last look at myself in the bathroom mirror. My make-up is still in place, but my deep red hair is a mess. I make the best of it by shuffling it up in a lazy bun and rolling red lipstick across my lips.

I’m out of the bathroom and skipping down the stairs in no time. Casimir stands at the vitrine elevator, waiting for me. He’s wearing navy slim fitted slacks with a navy button down, and I question if I’m underdressed.

Unfortunately, I don’t have time to change. So, I hurry into the elevator. Casimir steps in, his hands moving frantically across his cell phone. I close the elevator and press the lone button down.

My feet tap against the glass floor of the elevator, and I wonder if there is anything I can say. Does he know what’s going on? Is someone hurt? My throat moves, but my lips are locked.

We are out of the elevator and jockeying to the black Rolls Royce outside. The driver directs us into the car, and two security guards dive inside with us. The sight of them makes my chest tighten with worry.

Something terrible must’ve really happened because Casimir hasn’t looked up from his phone since we left.

We arrive at the private hospital, and my heart tumbles to my stomach as we step out of the Royce and emerge into a group of paparazzi, their blue flashing lights blinding me as we make our way to the hospital.

Casimir slips his phone into his pocket and draws me close to him, my gaze frantically scouring the paparazzi all around us. Security does well to keep them out of our faces as they scream their questions at Casimir, but it doesn’t stop them from nearly closing in on us as we enter the private hospital.

“Mr. Slate, you have arrived,”

A young Iranian doctor says as he approaches us.

“Where is she,”

Casimir raps, still holding me close.

I swallow, hoping the person isn’t someone dear to him, and follow as the doctor leads us down a hall and then another and another. We come to a room, and Casimir hesitates before opening the door.

“How is she Bahman?”

My gaze shifts to the Iranian man, who doesn’t seem all too concerned.

“She’s fine as of right now.”

His statement catches me off guard as my eyes transfer to Casimir. A deep breath drags from Casimir’s chest, and his hands pull at the silver doorknob as he enters. Casimir releases me almost immediately, the scowl spreading across his face, making me question if it’s ok for me to go into the room or not.

“Fuck it, I might as well,”

I say as I skid into the room after him.

Casimir looks back at me, a stoic expression folding across his face, and my heart jumps at the woman staring at me in the hospital bed.

“I’m convinced you have lost all of your morals.”

The words drift out like a storm as Casimir paces angrily across the room.

“I had to, Casimir; you wouldn’t have come otherwise.”

The delicate voice irritates me as I warm my arms with my hands. The hospital is freezing, and the extremely bright lights make it hard for me to concentrate.

“Did you really have to bring her? Who is she anyway?”

My head snatches over to the tawny, thin woman lying in the hospital bed. Her face is doused in makeup, and her long raven hair is spruced as if nothing has happened at all.

“Tianna, I’m not doing this with you. You have your assistant call my penthouse pretending that my mother is hurt just to drag me all the way out here, and for what? You seem fine?”

Casimir blazes, his fingers dragging through the waves of his hair.

“I almost died.”

The other woman’s frail reply pulls sympathy from me as I look at her.

“Stop being overdramatic. It was a panic attack, Tianna, ones you’ve had your entire life.”

Casimir’s gaze bleeds into Tianna as Scarlet shades his face.

Have they known one another all their lives? He did mention that their communion was planned at birth.

Casimir turns towards me and takes my hand, his other arm warming me as he leads us towards the door.

“Casimir?”The delicate voice displays need as we both rear around.

“Tianna, this is a shit show. There are paparazzi outside,”

Casimir lashes.

“They know I’m the one who is sick. Besides, what bad publicity could Slate Enterprises get from you visiting your fiancé in the hospital? I should be the one embarrassed. How do you think it will look once it gets out that you brought your new fling to the hospital with you,”

The other woman says, her eyes stabbing into me.

“Nice outfit, by the way. I see he still prefers them petite because my clothes fit you perfectly.”

I look down at myself abashed. My hair is a mess, but is it that obvious we just had sex? So many choice words hang at the tip of my tongue, but I know it’s not my place to say anything.

“You made your bed, Tianna. Now lie in it. Good night.”

Tianna whimpers, but Casimir rushes me out of the hospital room before either of us can say anything more.

We make our way to the hospital exit, and I have so many questions. When was the last time he saw Tianna, and why had she pulled such a stunt? Furthermore, why does he still have all his ex-fiancé’s clothes and even their room the same as it was when they were together?

I sneak a look at Casimir, who is eager to escape, and decide now is not a good time to ask either of those questions. We spear through the exit of the hospital doors and into the lion’s den, where paparazzi swarm us, asking questions.

Casimir guards me from the cameras as he and his security push us through.

“Are you Casimir Slate’s new girlfriend,”

A young black woman asks while shoving her microphone into my face.

I stare into the camera, imagining how bad I must look after a fuck session.

“No comment,”

Casimir says as he opens the car door.

He gives me a gentle nudge, and we both slide into the car; a deep breath pushing from my chest as I buckle my seatbelt and crash my head back onto the leather seats.

Casimir looks at me, and his sapphire eyes take my breath away.“I’m sorry I dragged you into this,”

he says as his eyes search mine.

“It’s okay. I knew what I was getting into when I applied for the job.”

But did I really ? Casimir regards me, and he’s back on his phone, probably doing damage control.

“Get my publicist on the phone, Jasmine.”

I pull out my phone suddenly remembering I’m his assistant and not just his fling. I retrieve the publicist’s number and have her on the phone before we pull up outside the penthouse.

“Casimir, what a mess,”

She rings as we get out of the car.

We’re in the penthouse, and I find myself resting on the large, tufted sofa in the living room. The drapes are closed, and Casimir and I are outlined in a fiery glow from the lit fireplace. I observe as Casimir paces the room while conversing with Kate, his publicist. He’s carrying his hands through his hair, and Kate is going on about how the media will have a field day when he gets back with Tianna Ricci.

Is this what she wanted? Is that why she pulled this little stunt? I possess no words for the woman who pretended to be Casimir’s mom, luring him to the hospital under the pretense that his mother was hurt. Anger grows inside me as I think back on what just occurred.

“She’s my assistant, and I want her to be kept out of this,”

Casimir bellows.

My eyes widen, my heart drumming as I sit up on the couch. Suppose Alex catches me on the news; oh God. I don’t even want to think about what may occur if he finds out. My mouth opens to say something, but I shut it immediately.

“Jasmine is married, and I won’t have the media defaming her, painting her as some slut. Pay them off, do whatever it is you need to do to make this go away?”

Casimir hisses as he drifts through the kitchen and down the narrow hall.

I want to get up. I want to follow him into his office, but my legs won’t move. I just lie here, terrified that my actions tonight may very well destroy me and my marriage for good. But I trust Casimir. He has been nothing but pleasant to me, and I know he will make this all go away. I lie back on the couch and drag the fleece blanket up to my neck, my mind revving with trepidation as I close my eyes. Don’t worry. Casimir will take care of you.

The New York sun drills through the partially open curtains, waking me from my slumber. I get up and head to my room to get dressed. We have several meetings scheduled for today, so I know it’s going to be a long day.

I drift into the walk-in closet, this time ensuring the clothes I pick out are mine. I assume all the clothes with tags are the ones Greta put up for me. So, I retrieve a royal blue business skirt suit and slide it onto my body. I step into a pair of black heels and make my way to the bathroom, where my hands take care of my face and hair—placing my makeup on, shading my cheeks with shimmer in all the right places while flat ironing my hair. I then tuck my hair in an updo and make my way down the stairs.

The smell of coffee and cooked bacon causes a growl deep in my tummy. I scurry to the kitchen and pour coffee into Casimir’s mug. Just as I turn around, he bumps into me, thankfully not hard enough for me to spill the coffee onto his pristine silver suit.

He leans down, his olive skin glistening against the natural light, and my eyes melt into his sapphire eyes. And for a moment, just for that moment, I think he’s going to kiss me, but he inhales a deep breath of me, grabs his coffee, and heads to the elevator. I grab my own coffee and charge behind him.

The next four weeks are a blur. We attended numerous meetings in New York and a few more in L.A. I spent time with my children on the weekends, but Casimir and I may as well be strangers. He was always busy with meetings, and I was always busy with my job as his assistant. At night, we slept in our respectable rooms. No more eating dinner together or sexscapades, and that made me sad. I want him, need him inside of me, but each time I look at him, he just turns away.

A part of me feels like Casimir Slate is avoiding me, forcing himself not to seduce me or claim me in any way. I want to know if the Tianna Ricci fiasco is the reason he’s avoiding me, but I dare not ask him.

We landed back in Seattle today, and Casimir was right. I’m about as used to flying as I am walking. I lunge into the front door of my house, only to be tackled immediately by Kaiden. I laugh tears of joy as I take Layla from Charlotte’s arms while hugging Kaiden.

“I miss you guys so much.”

“We missed you too, Mommy,”

Kaiden says while swinging on my leg.

I hoist my body into the house entirely, with the kids still attached to me. The smell of lasagna pleases my senses, and I look over to catch Alex cooking in the kitchen. My left brow wings as my gaze meets Charlotte.

“He insisted.”

The babysitter shrugs as she grabs her things.

“Thanks so much, Charlotte. I will deposit your pay into your account by tonight,”

I say as Charlotte waves bye and swoops through the door.

Kaiden lets go, and I lock the door and take Layla to her playpen.

“Good afternoon,”

Alex sings as he comes from the kitchen, his hand whipping up a chocolate mixture in a large bowl.

“Hi Alex, it smells good. Did you cook it,”

I ask as my eyes roam across his body.

Alex is wearing a white dress shirt and khaki slacks, and I’m impressed he actually got out of bed to do something for a change.

My husband nears me, a smile skating across his face as he speaks, “Charlotte helped with most of it, but it was my idea. I wanted to do something nice.”

I put my purse on the table and slide onto the faux leather sofa. Sonic the Hedgehog is frolicking on the TV screen, and the kids are watching it intensely.

“Well, that’s certainly a change from a couple of weeks ago,”

I blurt out as I remove my heels from my feet.

I massage the bottom of my feet while Alex glares at me as if he is dumbfounded by what I just said.

“I just mean, the night you returned home late and drunk, Charlotte had to stay overnight, and well, now you’re dressed nicely and preparing dinner,”

I say, readjusting my tone so that I sound calmer.

Alex turns away, and heads back into the kitchen. My throat scratches, and I question if I just started a fight. My legs raise me to my feet, and I trek into the kitchen, prepared to apologize for my remark.

Alex lines a cake pan and pours the chocolate mixture into it, and I wait for him to finish before speaking. “I had to pay Charlotte overtime to watch the kids when you came home drunk. I guess I’m still upset about that.”

Or maybe I’m upset that my boss, who once couldn’t keep his hands off me, can’t even bear to look at me, but I definitely can’t say that.

My husband turns to me, his eyes soft as he approaches me. “I’m so sorry, Jas,”

He begins as he takes my hand into his.

I tense up, my gaze failing to meet his as he continues. “I have been a horrible husband lately, and I want to make up for that.”

He leans in to kiss me, but I inadvertently step back. “I know it’s going to take time for you to love me again, but I am confident that with hard work and effort, it will happen,”

he says, undoubtedly as he lets go of my hand.

Alex walks over to the cabinet and withdraws plates. I watch as he fills them with lasagna and places them on the table.

“I have good news, Jas. I got a job—a job that pays well, which means you no longer must work.”

I judder at Alex’s request. Quit my job? “Alex, I’m under contract. Although I’m thrilled to hear you have a job, I can’t quit my job,”

I spit out as I retrieve the kids and place them at the kitchen table.

“Is the job local,”

I ask while fighting with Layla in her highchair.

“Slate Enterprises. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. I’ll be working there as an architect. It’s not quite the position I held at my last job, but it pays well, and the benefits are phenomenal.”

I freeze on my feet, rearing through the thudding of my fervid heartbeat. Slate Enterprises? This has Casmir’s name written all over it. I sit at the table and thank Alex as he slides me my plate.

Why would Casimir give my husband a job? Is he trying to get rid of me? The negative thoughts pound in my head, but I force them out while re-centering my attention on my family.

Although there is no expensive wine to go with our meal, I’m still appreciative that my husband cooked for me. My fork clenches at the food as I bring it up to my mouth, my mind still trying to swallow the news of my husband obtaining a job at Slate Enterprises after being blackballed by his former boss.

My phone vibrates, and I’m up and out of my chair in seconds. “I need to take this,”

I say to Alex as I head for the stairs. “Hello,”

I mumble into the phone, not sure who is calling.

“Jasmine, I need you to meet me. It’s urgent.”

Ayanna’s voice buffs me with surprise.

“What’s wrong, Ayanna? Is everything alright?”

“Ye-yes. I think I’m ok. It’s essential. Is there any way you can meet me now? I can text you the address.”

Desperation stammers through the speaker, which concerns me. “Yeah, sure. Let me just tell my husband.”

I end the call and whisp down the stairs to tell Alex something urgent has come up, and I need to go to work. Surprisingly, he doesn’t argue and says he will take care of the kids.

That was easy. Maybe he really is trying to change, and if that’s the case, I should tell him that I work for Casimir Slate. But If I do that, Alex will most definitely pressure me to quit my job, so I choose to keep the information to myself.

I cross my room, slipping out of the black skirt suit I was wearing and donning a silver sparkly body-con dress. I wonder if Casimir Slate gave my husband a job and, if so, why he hadn’t told me.

I stare at my rich skin in the mirror as I freshen my makeup, my hazel eyes glistening with need. I need Casimir’s touch and his body on top of mine, so I’m tempted to call him, but he instructed me not to. He said he would contact me if he needed anything.

Is Casimir and Tianna Ricci back together? Just as promised Casimir Slate made the entire media fiasco disappear. But for some reason, he’s deliberately avoiding me, and I need to know why.

I swing my curly hair across my left shoulder and stroll down the stairs and out the front door. No ride is present for me today. I’m not on my way to do anything for Mr. Slate. I’m headed to Ayanna, who seems desperate and scared. So, I order an Uber.

The Uber arrives, and I’m inside the Toyota, tapping my silver heels against the seat in front of me. The driver seems irritated by it, but I pay him no mind. I hardly know Ayanna. Why would she call me for anything? Maybe she needs something from Casimir. Many questions riddle my head as we arrive at the address Ayanna texted me.

I step outside the Uber, the thick smog sky devouring me as I make my way to the building. It’s a bar, but not just any bar; it’s a highly fancy bar. I’m greeted by a doorman who requests my ID, his eyes scanning me to ensure I’m the person displayed on the card. He grants me access and the smooth jazz music, and mahogany décor greets me on my way in. I run my hands across the rich mahogany walls while taking in the breathless view of live jazz players on the fancy stage, my heels skating along the plush cream rug as I search for any sign of Ayanna.

I cross the floor and arrive at the bar. A few dozen well-dressed people sit at the tiny round marble tables, their feet tapping to the beat as their hands hold their drinks.

“What can I get for you,”

A handsome bartender asks while whipping out a glass.

I move my eyes to the dark-skinned bartender and revel in his handsomeness for a second before speaking. “I’m looking for someone. Her name is Ayanna. She’s tall,”

“I believe you’ve already found her.”

The delicate voice draws anger from within me as I leisurely twist my head towards it.