Travis
I rub the back of neck, sighing. My phone never stops ringing. Never.
I answer it. "What?"
"Um...I hate to ask this, but it's tax time?" Cooper says.
"And....?"
"We'll see, Wes usually helps with my taxes and I know you said work out way up the ladder, but I've asked everyone else so...Travis?"
I sigh. "I don't know about Taxes. Once again, I will go over my fields of expertise: One, cooking/family recipes. Two, tattoos, piercings, and whether or not getting that stick and poke will make your skin fall off, three, minimum house work, like patching holes. If it's not one of those three things I'm not the person."
He sighs. "Please Trav, it's only my second time doing it and I don't remember how. I don't wanna owe the government money yknow?"
"I don't know man use Turbo Tax, I guess!" I sigh.
Jasmine peeps in. "Are you okay?"
"You know how to do taxes?"
"Does anyone? You just hope you don't owe the government money. My tax guy owes me a one time favor, you can use it if you want," she shrugged.
I sigh. "No, no. You have a business. You need that favor."
"Use turbo tax," I tell him. "I don't know anything else to tell you."
"Damn it. Okay. Thanks Trav. Uh, while I have you how long do you boil spaghetti for?"
"Till it's al dente," I roll my eyes. "Usually about 11 minutes for the whole box or when the noodle sticks to the wall."
Or is not supposed to stick?
"Okay, bye, Coop."
Jasmine kisses me, making me smile.
"I plan on going home soon. I've done all I can do with power of attorney work. Her estate is all mapped out and the house is Roman's when he grows up." I sigh.
I grin, kissing her softly. "Hey, gorgeous," I pull her between my open legs rubbing her hips, letting my hands slide down her body.
"How are you feeling?" I ask.
She shrugs. "Honestly a little icky. I think I'd like a soda. A dark one."
She's smooths her skirt, letting her hands rest in my shoulders, then it goes to her, slicking back her already slicked back hair.
It's so hard for her to comfortable. Not doing anything, I mean. Just relaxing.
"What about you. Your phones been ringing."
"Yes I know nonstop. Hey, I was thinking," I turn around, "How much were you planning on spending on the wedding?"
She shrugs. "My last wedding cost a couple million," I choke. I'm sorry how the hell—"So I was thinking maybe a hundred thousand? Since I know you'll think that's a waste."
A waste? I—I sigh, closing my eyes.
"Did you have fun?"
"Huh?"
"On your first wedding day. Did you have fun?"
She frowns, fluffing her already fluffy bun and the slicking her already slicked hair, and then back down the skirt—
I take her hands. "Did you have fun?"
She shrugs. "I mean I guess. I thought it was a fairytale."
I smile. "Then it was worth it. Anyway, I think if your father can afford to gift you a couple hundred thousand dollar wedding maybe we can get a house instead. Or raining day fund."
She fiddles with my shirt now, smoothing the shoulders of my tight black shirt that she insisted I iron or let her iron, even though we're not going anywhere.
I let her, because I think it soothes her.
"It's not a bad idea. But I really do want a good wedding and I can't fit my last wedding dress. It was custom you know? I was 13," she smiles softly. "I was way smaller, two kids change your hormones even if you don't—"
Did she say two? Two kids?
"You had another child?"
Her head snaps up at me in shock, as if she can't believe I asked that. She goes back to messing with my shirt, cocking her head.
"A long time ago, when I was 16, I, as mother would say, fell pregnant. And...he, at the time, decided he did not want my child, because his mistress was also pregnant."
She slicks back her hair.
"So I had an abortion. I was having a boy. I think. This one is a girl. I'm good at knowing. My mother told me, I should've lied and told him I had the abortion and keep it," she says softly, evenly. As if it didn't happen to her, she's just telling a story.
"That he would've never been able to leave me, if I'd had his child. It's what she did to my father. She told me marry rich, have a baby quick, keep going till you get a boy," she shrugged. "I was thankful I got it on my first try, because..."
She looks to at me. "Anyway, yeah, about the house that's a good idea. Or maybe we can get another space for you. That would potentially double your income. We need to get a social media prescience too."
What? He made her get an abortion? I thought that bastard couldn't get any worse.
"Speaking of my ex husband," she pulls something out handing it to me. "Do you know how to clean a gun?"
I nod. "Yeah," I take it from her, checking the clip. Empty. Good. "I'll clean it out for you, have it to you by the end of the day okay?"
She nods. "Thank you," she kisses my cheek, "alright I want a coke I'm running up to McDonald's want something?"
"No, I think I might eat in today."
She turns around, stepping into her boots. I take the time to smack her ass because it's perfect.
She swats me with a smile. "Be back, love you!"
Huh?
"Oh I—"
The door slams, making me blink in confusion. "Love you too?"
