Page 85 of Perfectly Matched: Harbor Falls Romance Collection

Jasmine drummed her fingers on Art Manchester’s oversized, polished mahogany desktop, waiting for him to return. She glanced about at the typical decor. His office was pretty much par for the course for a small-town attorney. It was a nice office on Main Street, a corner abode, on the second floor of the bank and trust building. Shelves graced with rows of leather-bound books lined the room, with the exception of one very large picture window overlooking the town of Harbor Falls. Everything was mahogany and leather. A nice, conservative look. Heavy wood filing cabinets stood in the corner.

Yes, in her experience, typical. Totally the opposite of her office in Atlanta. Of course, she was not your typical lawyer. Jasmine took on both high profile and court-appointed family and child advocate cases in the city of Atlanta. And there were plenty of both. Her office was brighter, welcoming to children and families. She had a reading corner with shelves full of children’s books and a low table with crayons and paper and puzzles. There was a soft sofa for parents, so they could relax and feel more at home, while Jasmine discussed some very serious and difficult subjects with them.

Art obviously practiced small-town general law and, she thought, must do it well. Funny, she didn’t remember him from when she lived in Harbor Falls—but as a child she was caught up in her own little world, and then at eighteen, of course, she left and never looked back.

She likely didn’t have a lot in common with this Art Manchester. He looked established and settled, with a pretty blonde wife, if the picture on his desk was any indication. And if the law books stacked on his desk were any further indication, he was currently handling a variety of issues—contracts, civil suits, wills and trusts.

Wills and trusts. That’s what she was here for.

The door behind her creaked and Art rushed back into the room. He sat, opened up a folder, and then looked up to Jasmine.

“I’m sorry for that delay, but I needed to run downstairs to the bank.”

“I understand,” she said.

He looked her in the eyes, and Jasmine straightened her back, waiting.

“As you know from our discussion on the phone, Ms. Leinie Crockett passed away last week, and you were specifically named in her will.”

Jasmine scooted to the edge of her seat.

“Yes. You mentioned that. I’m curious but wonder if there is a mistake. I left Ms. Leinie’s home when I was eighteen. I’ve not spoken with her since.”

Art shook his head.

“No mistake. Let me read you a small snippet of her last will and testament.”

He placed a pair of reading glasses on the end of his nose.

“To Ms. Jasmine Walker,”

he began.

“whom I loved like a daughter…”

As he began reading, a queasiness settled over her stomach. She should have eaten breakfast, but she wanted to get on the road soon to avoid Atlanta rush hour later.

He cleared his throat, and Jasmine realized she’d become distracted. She looked back to him and watched the paper in his hand.

“…I leave just one thing. The contents of my safety deposit box at First Harbor Falls B&T. What she does with it is up to her.”

He looked up and waited.

“That’s it?”

He nodded.

“Yes. That’s it.”

“What’s in the box?”

He shook his head then.

“I don’t know but here is the key.”

He unclipped a small envelope from the folder and handed it to her. The envelope had #352 written on the outside.

“Now what?”

Art stood.

“Now we’ll head downstairs to see what’s in the box. We’ll meet with Carl Robbins, the bank official who will take us to the safety deposit area. He has the other key. I’ll leave you at that point, since my official work will be done. You are an attorney and likely don’t need my advice, but if you’d like for me to stick around, just let me know.”

Jasmine couldn’t imagine there could be much in the box, so she figured she’d send him on his way and be done with it all quickly. Glancing at her watch, she realized she could be on her way back to Atlanta in no time. That thought gave her great relief. She was ready to get back home. For some reason, being here in Harbor Falls made her a little nervous.

Ms. Leinie lived simply, even though she had that big old, beautiful house, so whatever was in the box was likely small and sentimental. Perhaps some jewelry or maybe some recipes. She always had loved Ms. Leinie’s cooking. Yes, that was probably it. Jasmine had always teased her that she wanted her recipe box after she had passed.

A pang hit her gut and she almost teared up.

Jasmine jerked her head up and stood.

“All right. Let’s go.”

****

Jack left the truck and headed across the street to the bank. As he pulled on the brass door handle, the heavy oak door swung open, hitting him with a blast of air-conditioned air. He stepped across the lobby toward the first clerk’s window and glancing about, asked if Cam Parker was available.

“He stepped out for about five minutes, Mr. Ackerman,”

the bank clerk said.

“Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll let him know as soon as he returns.”

Jack needed to get the details on Ms. Leinie’s construction account from Cam. Ms. Leinie had contracted him to oversee the construction of the building over on Court Street. They’d started this project before she passed, of course. Art Manchester had called him last week to tell him to continue, and that Cam Parker had the details about the account and how he would get paid, and also how he would pay for the crew and materials.

They had halted construction temporarily until everything was worked out. In a way, he was glad. Being the general contractor for the project was side work for him. He and Sam had owned Haven’s Hill Nursery for the past ten years, and that was his primary job. But he enjoyed construction too. It all kept his hands busy, and that was a good thing.

Busy hands, busy mind. Lately he needed to keep both occupied.

Breaking up with Nora hadn’t been an easy thing to do. They’d been a couple for months, and he’d been contemplating the breakup for about half that time. He had never been that good with confrontation, especially when it was going to hurt someone. He feared he had hurt Nora’s feelings bad. It couldn’t be helped, though. He and Nora wanted different things in life, and at thirty-four, he wasn’t ready to settle—he was ready to get on with what he really wanted in life. He knew he couldn’t let too much more dust settle under his heels.

He nodded to the clerk and headed across the lobby when he heard voices coming from one of the other offices. He glanced up to see Art Manchester and Carl Robbins leave the office with a tall, nicely dressed woman. They turned toward the back hallway, which led to the vault where the safety deposit boxes were located.

The three stopped to chat.

Jack started to sit but something about the woman gave him pause.

Her hair… The color of dark honey with flecks of gold. He’d only seen that color once before, and there had been times in his life, when he would have given anything to see it again.

He stood up and squared his shoulders.

The woman looked straight at him.

Jasmine.

****

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Robbins, I’m sure this will only take a minute,”

Jasmine stated as she and the two men stepped into the lobby.

Carl Robbins nodded.

“Of course. I’m happy to help, Ms. Walker.”

Then he stopped and added.

“I am so sorry to learn of your loss.”

My loss? Oh. She nodded.

“Yes, Ms. Leinie was a friend to everyone, though, wasn’t she?”

“She was, indeed.”

Jasmine glanced off, movement at the front of the bank catching her eye. The sight of a man standing several feet away startled her, and she wasn’t entirely sure why. Perhaps it was the way his body was squared and planted in the center of the bank facing her, and how he was looking straight at her. With familiarity…

He started walking toward them, and her gaze traveled up to his face.

No.

Turning away, she moved toward the hallway, hoping the men were following suit. Her chest, suddenly constricted and full of fluttering butterflies, ached. Her stomach took on an immediate queasiness that was difficult to ignore. She glanced at her watch and said loudly.

“I have a dinner engagement at seven in Atlanta. Could we hurry this along?”

That was a lie. She didn’t care.

Jack. It was him. Wasn’t it?

She didn’t look back. Wouldn’t.

“Jasmine?”

She’d briefly contemplated on her drive up to Harbor Falls how she would react if she coincidentally ran into him today. She brushed away the idea as absurd. She hadn’t heard from Jack in years and assumed he was married with kids by now. Of course, that would be easier, wouldn’t it? If he was married with a wife and children?

Somehow, she didn’t want to think of that, either. Jack, wife, kids….

She dismissed it all. She was not here to think about or talk with Jack Ackerman.

“Jasmine?”

The voice, male and urgent, broke through the haze in her brain. She stopped up short, realizing she had walked several feet into the hallway.

Alone.

She turned. Jack stood there, flanked on either side by Art Manchester and Carl Robbins. His face was a puzzle. Probably much like what she felt like on the inside.

“Jack?”

Her voice was barely a whisper. Then, she squared her shoulders and said with more conviction.

“Jack. Wow. It’s been a long time.”

He stepped forward.

“Too long.”

Several more steps and he was in front of her, his voice softer now.

“Jazzy, you look…”

He searched her eyes.

“Incredible.”

Jazzy….

The way he said his nickname for her… The way the word slipped off his tongue and fell onto her ears and into her heart… It brought a wealth of pleasant, confusing and even painful images to her mind, and to her quivering tummy….

It was as if fifteen years turned on a nickel.

He was the one who looked incredible. If she let the truth get the better of her, she’d say he looked more than incredible. He looked, well, handsome, and sexy, and swoon-worthy, and fabulous, and.

“Jack, thank you. You look well.”

Well? Okay, that was safe. Yes. Keep it safe.

He looked more than well. Whatever work he was doing kept him trim and fit, all six feet, two inches of him. His dark, close-cut hair held a hint of silver, which reflected nicely in his light blue eyes. Looking well was a misnomer. The man was positively hot.

“What are you doing in Harbor Falls?”

He reached for her hand. Touched her. Then hesitantly pulled back. She did, too. Her skin burned where they’d connected.

“Oh, Ms. Leinie… She, well. There is a safety deposit box and…”

“Will you be here this evening? How about dinner?”

She shook her head. “No.”

Jack’s face fell, and she felt awful that she’d said that one word with a little more conviction than she had intended.

“I mean, thank you, but no. Jack, I need to get back to Atlanta tonight. Once I finish here…”

She looked to the other two men standing a few feet away, then back to him. She smiled.

“It’s been really good to see you, but I have to take care of a few things and then be on my way.”

She stepped back and an ache the size of Falls Lake landed in the pit of her stomach. She looked to Mr. Robbins.

“Should we move on?”

Jack interjected.

“Jasmine, how can I…?”

The question fell on thin air as Jasmine turned and said.

“Goodbye, Jack. Talk soon?”

She knew there would be no talking soon, but she had just enough Southern manners to make the effort.

Her heels clicked on the hard tile floor as she headed deeper into the hallway and further away from Jack. Her brain registered the last look on his face, his gaze searching for hers, the look of a sudden sense of loss upon it. Still, she searched his eyes. For some connection, some hint of…something?

Married with children, she reminded herself. Why on earth would he not be by now? I mean, look at him?

Breathless, and for no apparent reason other than the fact that seeing Jack had sucked the air out of her lungs, they rounded a corner and came up short at the security door. She looked to Carl Robbins.

“Well? Let’s get on with it.”

Her patience was running thin. Sooner she could get out of Harbor Falls, the better. She hoped Jack had gone.

Carl Robbins nodded and set things into motion. He unlocked the vault, and they stepped inside the secure room. Quickly, they located box #352 and synchronized the keys in the locks. Within seconds, he had removed the box and handed it to Jasmine. It was heavier than she expected.

“There is a private room over here for you to go through the contents,”

he told her and motioned to the right.

“Take your time. We’ll be outside if you need us for anything.”

Jasmine thanked Mr. Robbins then looked to Art.

“I’ll be fine. If I should need any further assistance, I’ll be sure and call. Thank you for your information.”

Art nodded, shook her hand, and left.

Jasmine moved into the room and Mr. Robbins shut the door behind her.

She placed the box on the table, stood over it and paused, a thousand thoughts rolling through her head. What in the world had Ms. Leinie done?

Then she looked toward the door. Was Jack still there?

Suddenly lightheaded, she sat in the chair with a deep sigh—her chest heaving with unspent air, her heart pounding.