Mad About You

coffee. Everyone around her beamed, happy for the governor, thrilled for the party's victory. But the expression on her face... Did she always look that miserable?
    Mesmerized, she watched herself wince as Trey mentioned her name in a long list of thank you’s. And in that moment, she realized that Jasmine Crowne was a fraud. A fraud for traipsing around on the arm of a man she didn't love. A fraud for even considering marrying a man just to ride on his coattails into a life of celebrity. A fraud for pretending that family and goodness and true love didn't matter to her.
    Something Trey had said previously came back to her. The public loves the idea of us being together. A far cry from saying he loved her.
    In fairness to Trey, she knew he was very fond of her, but he was looking for a marketing package for his future, and she fit the bill. He would be disappointed if she broke off their relationship, but he wouldn't be devastated. Neither one of them cared enough for that.
    While she still had the nerve, she picked up the phone and dialed Trey's cell phone number. He answered on the second ring.
    "Hi, there. This is a nice surprise."
    "Trey, do you love me?"
    He laughed, obviously taken back. "Well, of course I do," he said in his best campaign voice. "What kind of question is that?"
    "I don't think you do, Trey, and that's all right because I don't love you, either."
    He sighed. "I’ve neglected you. Let’s meet for lunch."
    "Trey, I'm sorry that I haven't been truthful to you, but to be honest, I haven't been truthful to myself. I'm not cut out for a life in politics, and although I'm very fond of you, fondness isn't good enough for me, and I hope it isn't good enough for you."
    "I... I don't know what to say—is it another man?"
    "Yes."
    "Is it Sanderson?"
    "Yes."
    He made a rueful noise. "So there is something going on between you two?"
    "Actually, no."
    "I'm confused."
    "I told Ladden I wasn't interested. He's a gentleman, so he accepted my decision."
    "I'm still confused."
    "But I am interested. I just didn't realize it until now."
    He sighed again. "Well, at least the election is over. The press is going to have a field day with this one."
    "Trey, I haven't talked to Ladden. Nothing at all may come of this, but I wanted to clear the air before I told him how I feel, and to give you fair warning."
    "Okay... thanks. I mean it, Jasmine, thank you. I have the strangest feeling I wouldn't have won the election if it hadn't been for you."
    She smiled into the phone. "Goodbye, Trey."
    When she disconnected the call, she felt as if an anchor had rolled off her chest. Taking a deep breath, she dialed directory assistance for Glenhayden. She copied down the number, then punched it in, her hands shaking.
    The phone rang once... twice... three times. She started to hang up when a man's voice came over the line.
    "Hello?"
    She wet her lips and swallowed, summoning courage.
    "Hello?" he repeated.
    "D-Daddy? This is Jasmine."

    * * *

    Ladden adjusted the Help Wanted sign in the window. At least, he had decided on election day, he had the new storefront to keep his mind and body occupied. More space meant more furniture and antiques to gather, more refinishing, more repairs—he definitely needed to hire someone to help him, at least with the retail side.
    And Saul had been so excited about the idea of doubled premiums, he had thrown his weight around to settle the insurance claim. Ladden stepped back to take a look around his new, expanded location. Things were going well, he had to admit, as far as business was concerned. But he hadn't made much progress in getting over Jasmine.
    Later he would join his family at Tabby’s for a Thanksgiving feast. He’d hoped he would have Jasmine at his side this year for the annual gathering, but it was not to be. No doubt, Jasmine was still swept up in the excitement of McDonald’s win, perhaps already planning her wedding, which was sure to be a widely televised event. At least his boisterous family would be there to help fill the cracks in his broken heart with mountains of food and boundless laughter.
    The bell on the door clanged and Ladden looked up to see an elderly gentleman in a suit walking toward him. "Hello, can I help you?"
    The man inclined his head. "Greetings, Ladden."
    Ladden's eyes widened. "Gene?"
    The old man smiled, revealing his gapped teeth. "It is I."
    "Where's the turban? And what's with using the door?"
    "I'm trying to become more human. I think I might