*THE HOLLEN SERIES 02*
👨👩👧👦👨👩👧👦👨👩👧👦EPISODE 39👨👩👧👦👨👩👧👦👨👩👧👦
🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻
*👁🗨 PERSONAL as-sISTANT👁🗨*
🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻
🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻
Jasmine’s POV
Zenia and I were in the supermarket throwing
food into a cart while moving from aisle to
aisle.
“Put this in there,” she said, throwing two
pregnancy tests into the cart.
“Zenia, I alre-ady told you that I’m not
pregnant,” I pleaded.
“Lets say that you are pregnant, who’s the
father?”
I gave her a death glare and, if looks could
kill, I would have killed my own sister.
“Hey, don’t get mad at me,” she said, throwing
up her hands in surrender.
“I get why you asked that question, but Evan
would definitely be the father since I never
engaged in any S-xual activities with br@dley.”
“So you didn’t use any protec-tion?” she asked
in a whisper tone.
“Yeah we did. But there was this one time we
didn’t and he eja-culated inside me.”
“My gosh.”
“Can we just drop this t©pic? I’m really trying
to move on with my life.”
“Sure.”
The t©pic shifted to fashion and clothing lines.
It was Zenia’s dream to become a fashion
designer and owned her boutique.
After getting home and putting the groceries
away, Zenia placed the pregnancy tests in my
hands. “It wouldn’t hurt to make sure. Do one
now and the other one in the morning.”
I went to the bathroom, re-ad the directions and
peed. I waited patiently on that one red line–
the negative line.
After five minutes it showed exactly that.
Negative. I was not pregnant. Zenia c@m£
bur-sting throu-gh the bathroom door.
“What did it show?”
“Negative,” I answered, showing her the stick.
“Oh, well, how do you feel about that?” she
asked.
“I feel like I can finally move on with my life.”
And that I did.
_________
Two weeks later, I landed a job as a waitress
and bartender at the restaurant where my
mother worked.
Finally, I felt normal. No one judged me and
asked any questions about Evan and me. I
found myself laughing and talking and ma-king
friends with the other employees there,
everyone except for a guy named Michael. He
was grumpy and impolite. But, in almost every
workplace, there’s always this one person who
makes you uncomfortable to be around them.
“Jasmine, can you as-sist me on table nine? It’s
a walk-in couple!” Sharmolly, one of the other
waitress, called out to me.
It was Friday and the restaurant was crowded.
All the employees were on their feet and busy
as bees.
“I’ll attend to them as soon as I’m finish with
these tequila sh0ts!” I called back in a tone
she’d definitely hear.
It was noisy. Lots of chattering from the
customers and a Friday night live band was
blasting songs.
I served the sh0ts to the table I had attended
to first. Moving towards table nine, I was
st©pped by three customers on table six.
“Excuse me ma’am, we’ve been sitting here
almost half an hour now and no one tended to
us. Can we have some service plea-se?”
“Sure. What can I get you?” I took their food
and drink order. I patched the order to the
kitchen and made the drinks. I served the table
and moved towards table nine, again.
“Excuse me, miss! Hello, miss!” table eight
called out to me.
I turned to them. “How can I help you?” I
asked.
“Can we have some service? We’ve alre-ady
ordered our food an hour ago and it’s yet to
get here. Can you check on it for us plea-se?”
“Sure thing, ma’am. My apologies,” I answered
before running towards the kitchen. I bu-mped
into Michael again and he growled at me.
“Sorry Michael,” I apologized.
“Watch where you’re going, you imbecile!” he
shouted angrily.
Ignoring his rude response, I walked on.
“FOOD FOR TABLE EIGHT!” I called out as I
entered the heated kitchen.
“Here! Here! Here,” Chef Antonio called out. He
was Cuban and I liked hearing his accent.
I took three plates to table eight before
stepping towards table nine.
“Good evening,” I greeted, taking my notepad
from my pocket so I could write down the
orders.
“FINALLY!” a female voice sh0t out. “I’ll have a
fillet steak, sweet potatoes and vegetable rice.
And, for my drink, I’d like to have a glas-s of
Merlot.”
I wrote down everything on my notepad.
“And what would you have, sweetie?” she
asked the gentleman sitting across from her.
I turned towards him and upon seeing his
eyes, my notepad sli-pped out from my hands.
________
Evan’s POV
No more text messages from Jasmine. She
had finally got the memo and moved on with
her life.
I had.
I met Aria Goode at a p@rty I attended with my
parents and my sister two weeks ago. She
was performing one of her great country hits,
which had me sold. My father knew her folks;
so, after the magnificent performance, they
c@m£ over to greet my parents.
Aria and I started off from there.
She was a beautiful young woman with long
flowing brown hair, bright honey brown eyes,
and a b©dy to die for. She captured me at the
first impression. I was a hvge fan as well, so
it was, like, a win-win situation for me. I loved
her music.
Since then, we had stayed in contact and
become very close friends.
One day, she c@m£ by the office with Emily
and, being the charmer I was, I invited her out
to dinner. Two weeks later, when her schedule
was cleared and she had some free time, we
decided to go have dinner at a restaurant
where her one of her former back up singers
worked as a p@rt-time waiter.
I dressed in a black T-shi-t and faded black
jeans, simple, dark brown leather shoes on my
feet, and my Rolex on my wrist. I brushed my
hair, the usual way, applied my Versace Eros
cologne and gr@bb£d the keys to my black
Bentley.
“Gosh, the service here is terrible,” Aria said as
she and I sat in the restaurant, waiting to be
attended.
“It’s a full house,” I joked.
We browsed throu-gh the menu again and, after
what seemed to be an hour, we finally received
some service.
“And what would you have sweetie?” I heard
Aria asking.
I re-moved the menu from my face and turned
towards the waitress. My heart dropped, and,
as if on sync, her notepad dropped to the floor
in front of me as well. I picked it up and
handed it back in her sweaty hands.
“What can I get you, sir?” her voice c@m£ out
like she didn’t know me.
“Same as… her,” I answered.
She nodded her head and wrote something
down.
I handed her back the menu and my hand just
had to brush against hers. I saw her shiver.
I still have that effect on her though.
“That will be all. You can leave us now,” Aria
said, waving her hand in dismissal at Jasmine.
Aria leaned in and planted a k!sson my cheek.
I saw Jasmine’s face fall even more before she
turned around and left our table.
________
*THE HOLLEN SERIES 02*
👨👩👧👦👨👩👧👦👨👩👧👦EPISODE 40👨👩👧👦👨👩👧👦👨👩👧👦
🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻
*👁🗨 PERSONAL as-sISTANT👁🗨*
🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻
🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻
Jasmine’s POV
It was a h0t day in Brooklyn. I woke up to
sweat running from my forehead to my che-st
and between my brea-sts. I pu-ll-ed the covers
off me and went to the bathroom and did my
morning business. I stepped into the shower
next, brushing my teeth, washing my hair and
taking a long bath. I had been working myself
up and breaking down again after seeing Evan
and Aria Goode together at the restaurant.
Aria fricking Goode. A country singer. Beautiful
in the face, long brown flowing hair, beautiful
eyes, prettyl-ips and an awesome personality.
Everyone liked her and would become a die
ha-rd fan the moment they heard her music.
She was a goddess with a guitar and a
songbird on the microphone. She was
everything.
Despite the heat raging outside, I had to get to
work. Today was payday and I nee-ded my
money badly.
I got dressed and went towards the kitchen.
“You got the morning shift?” Mom asked. She
was wh!pping up a nice batch of pancakes
which possessed her secret ingredient–
nutmeg.
🤐Oops, don’t tell her I told you.
“Yeah. Dexter changed the shifts last night,” I
answered, snatching a pancake and drowning it
in syrup.
Dexter was the supervisor and second in
charge. He had the authority to hire and fire
someone but he was very lenient and didn’t
abuse his power. He was also a friendly guy,
solid built with a hvge beer belly. We called
him “Bear”.
After devouring three large pancakes, I took a
bottle water from the fridge and placed it into
my bag. I swung the bag onto my shoulder,
k!$$£d my mom, waved bye-bye to my sister,
and ran out the door.
I was early for work, so I decided to walk. I
opened my umbrella against the rays of the
sun, opened my bottled water and drank it as I
walked along. The restaurant wasn’t far from
where I lived– a twenty minute walk, so it
made no s-en-se taking a bus.
I checked in as I c@m£ throu-gh the employees’
entrance. I placed my bag in my as-signed
locker, wra-pped an apron around my w@!st and
went on the floor. I loved the morning shift. It
was easier than the night shift. It wasn’t busy,
and no one ever asked for alcohol. It was
always coffee or tea and breakfast meals.
At break time, I was at the bar, talking with
Dexter, when a sharp pain nudged me in the
stomach. I instantly felt dizzy and held onto
the counter t©p for support. My hands felt
sweaty and, although outside was h0t, I felt
cold. My jaw clung together as I tried to
bypas-s the pain.
“Jasmine, are you alright?” Dexter asked me,
coming over to my side and placing me onto a
stool.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” My typical answer.
“You’re burning up. I’ll get you a glas-s of
water,” he said.
I heard the sound of a glas-s being filled in the
tap but the water never met myl-ips. The stool
and I c@m£ tumbling over and darkness
consumed me.
______________
I opened my eyes slowly. A blinding light
made me shut them again and reopen slower
until my eyes adjusted to the bright light in a
white room. Beeping sounds could be heard
and a monitor showed a sonogram on the
wall.
Where am I?
I managed to sit up and looked at my
surroundings. I was in a small be-d with an IV
stuck in my hand. Tears c@m£ into my eyes. I
hated hospitals.
How did I get here? Why am I here? How long
will I be here?
I saw two smiling faces coming into the
room– my mom and my sister.
“Oh we’ve been so worried,” Mom started.
“How are you feeling?” Zenia asked.
“Why am I here? What happened? When can I
go home?” I asked, my voice alre-ady breaking.
I hated hospitals so badly.
If I could run out of here, then I would.
“The doctor will be with you shortly, but you
fainted on the job. Dexter brou-ght you here. He
said your eyes rolled to the back in your head
before you coll@psed,” Mom explained.
“What?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
I fainted on the damn job?
“You’ll be okay. It must have just been the heat
or something,” Zenia put in. She c@m£ over to
me and hvgged me ti-ghtly.
“Hello everyone,” a familiar voice greeted us. I
knew that voice anywhere. She was my
mother’s doctor and now she was attending to
me. Dr. Shannon. In her sharp white coat and
white scru-bs.
“Hello Doctor,” my mom greeted her.
“It’s nice to you again, Susan, but not un-der the
circu-mtances, of course,” she greeted and
shook hands with my mom. “I’ll nee-d to speak
with Jasmine pri-vately,” she added.
Mom and Zenia k!$$£d my cheek and left the
room.
“We’ll be right outside,” Mom called as she
went out the door.
Dr. Shannon then turned to me. “How are you
feeling?”
“I’m feeling alright.”
“Can you remember how you felt before you
got here?”
“I felt terrible. I was shivering, although it was
so h0t this morning. I was at work and my
supervisor offered me a glas-s of water, and
that’s all I remember,” I recollected.
“Jasmine, have you been un-der a great deal of
stress recently?”
My mind instantly flashed back to Evan,
quitting my job, and finding out that br@dley
had no intentions but to pl@ywith me, again. I
remembered all the times I went to be-d crying
my eyes out because Evan wouldn’t accept my
apology or respond to any of my text
messages. I remembered seeing him in the
restaurant with another woman all over his
face. I had been beating myself up over him
and look where it had gotten me in the end.
“Yes, I was,” I answered truthfully.
“Okay, do you know what that is?” she asked
me, pointing to the sonogram on the wall.
I nodded.
“So why are you not taking care of yourself?”
she asked.
Okay, she lost me. And why show me a picture
of a baby’s sonogram when clearly it’s not my
baby because I’m not pregnant?
“I’m lost doctor,” I told her. I was honestly
puzzled.
“Jasmine, are you aware that you’re almost two
months pregnant?”
I fainted again.
______
*TO BE CONTINUED*