Page 7 of Don't Forget Me
Now, Nick only had himself.
Probably sensing she’d get no further elaboration, Jasmine moved on to a new question. “We’ve done some digging and found that you own property in Virginia. That’s where you’re from, right?”
This was not what he wanted to talk about with a stranger. He only grunted out a “yes.”
His parents probably still lived in their rundown Virginia trailer with its broken heat and grime-covered floor. But the TV always worked. What would they have done without their prized reality shows as the drugs coursed through their systems?
“The property I own isn’t anywhere near where I’m from though.” He wasn’t sure why he said it, but the words spilled out, some bit of truth in the lies he normally told.
She nodded. “On Little Mountain Lake, right?”
She really had done her digging. “Yes.”
“Interesting location to choose. You have the world at your feet, Nick. Why a little known—yet, beautiful—lake?”
“My brother wanted the house.” Was he really doing this?
Her smile fell. Most of the world didn’t know the story of Stephen Jacobs, but this woman seemed to. “So, you bought it for him?”
“For us. When we were kids, we ran away from home a number of times. Once, we managed to get all the way across the state where we saw this lake spreading before us with a million possibilities. I was only eight, and he was ten, but it filled us with the kind of wonder you never forget.” He still remembered that day so clearly. The police found the two hungry boys sitting with their feet in the water as they stared at the mountains.
When they got home, their parents played the role of worried loved ones for the cops before sinking into their oblivion once more.
Nick used his first movie money to buy that house. Even after Stephen left him, he couldn’t make himself sell it.
Jasmine sat expectantly, waiting for more of the story, but he’d given too much already.
He stood. “Interview is over.”
“What?” She stared up at him. “I barely got anything.”
“Look, Jasmine, I have a job I need to prepare for. I don’t have time for this. Please leave.” He reached down and shut off the recording app on her phone.
Jasmine snatched it away from him and rushed to stand. “Thank you, Mr. Jacobs,” she bit out, holding a hand toward him.
He shook it, knowing that Grant, the director, wouldn’t be happy, but Nick wasn’t in the business of making people happy.
As soon as Jasmine left, he sank back down onto the chair. Her question surprised him into revealing more than normal. He’d tried not to think about that house in years, letting his business manager make sure it was taken care of.
“Go ahead, Stephen.” He sighed. “Laugh at me for becoming exactly the kind of man you knew I would if you weren’t here.”
The truth was, without his older brother, he didn’t know who he was.
Not anymore.
A knock sounded on his door. “What?”
The production assistant came in, coffee in hand. “Sorry it took so long. There was a line.”
“It’s fine.” He took it from her, trying to recall her name.
“Jessica.”
He nodded. “Thank you, Jessica.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Did you really just say thank you?”
He sipped his coffee, not answering her.
