"Sammy! So wonderful to see you!" Jasmine took a few steps with arms outstretched in greeting. They dart their heads forward to give a customary double cheek peck. "I love your outfit," she praises holding him back at arms length and assessing his clothing which consisted of brown fur, ripped white jeans, white tank top and brown boots.

Sammy slips the sunglasses above his buzz cut hair. "I'm making a fashion statement in England. Besides you never know if I ran into the queen of England herself!" He giggles.

Jasmine laughs despite herself. Sammy was eccentric, outrageous, funny, honest, and you never know what he'll do or say next. Just the right antidote for a best friend that acted more like a sibling than anything else. "You never know! We'll be sharing many adventures you and I. I take the driver picked you up promptly and everything went smoothly despite the traffic?"

"The Brits drive like crazy old women on crack and what's with beeping the horn all the damn time? I can't stand how they drive on the right side! I practically destroyed my perfect manicure biting my nails the whole way here!"

Jasmine laughed again. "It'll take some time for you brain to adjust, trust me, you'll get used to it in no time." She reassures him and gestures to one of white leather chairs in front of her desk. "Come have a seat and I'll ring for England's customary delicacy of tea and scones."

"Oh girlfriend, I don't do tea. After what I experienced and according to my blood pressure," he says fanning himself, "I'm gonna be needing a martini stat."

Sammy and his preferred drink, she thinks shaking her head indulgently reaching for the phone and ordering a martini, tea and snacks. Jasmine seats herself behind her desk and watches Sammy eye the decor around her bright and polished workspace.

The floor was tiled in marble with a khaki tone, her desk was a sizable beige piece with a workspace behind the desk that holds a desktop computer. The patterned beige and gold wallpaper on the walls added a luxurious with a modern touch while a nice sitting area accommodated the corner of the room with a flat screen television placed against the wall. The office was unmistakably modern with feminine glamour.

"Posh office, did you decorate yourself?" Sammy asks, clasping his hands in his lap and crossing his legs casually.

"Thank you, yes I did. I take it you approve Mr. Party planner?"

Sammy wasn't just a psychologist but he was also took it upon himself and planned parties as a hobby. With the way he organized Camelia's bachelorette party and wedding one would say he was a born expert.

He raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, "Quite!" He said it with his fake British accent and giggled quickly afterward. "So where's Zayn the playboy?"

Jasmine tries to suppress her laughter, again. Her older brother was a notoriously known playboy who loved women. Incredibly handsome, tall, dark, and charming, the string of panties left by his admirers stretched a mile long. She wished he were here with her to help take some of the burdens of work and let her breath for a little while.

"Zayn has been preoccupied overlooking the construction and design of our newest addition–a cozy bed and breakfast on the outskirts of the city. Keep that information to yourself. It's top secret. So tell me, how long will you be visiting? As I recall, we never spoke of the specifics. I'd like to know so I can work out my schedule around your stay."

Sammy taps his chin thoughtfully, "I was thinking two weeks, I know you won't be available everyday, so I have enough time to chill and see the sights and sounds comfortably." He eyes her with his critical eye and frowns.

"Is there any place in particular you'd like to visit? Things you'd like to do?" She inquires.

"Besides drinking martinis, reading VOGUE, wearing fur and looking posh?" He asks with a thoughtful expression. "Nah, I don't having anything in mind but all I know is you and TripAdvisor are my new best friends."

Jasmine smiles. "Don't worry I'll take care of all the arrangements." She decides for him and begins clearing her desk and filing papers away. "We'll visit the some top attractions such as the Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, the British museum, Tower of London and a personal favorite of mine–Hyde Park. These are just some of many more. England is beautiful this time of year and you'll have plenty of time to see it all. Thankfully the weather is pleasant and I'm sure you'll have a terrific time." Happening to glance at Sammy she catches him watching her with a critical eye. "What is it?" She asks with her own frown. "Why are you looking at me like that? If you'd rather go other places you–"

"You've lost weight since your sisters wedding and it hasn't been that long ago." He notes, blinking rapidly, his fake eyelashes struggling to keep up.

Jasmine's shoulders hunch like the burdens of the words weighed her down and set the files down as though they were made of rock. It was true, the disturbing episode with Cristiano curbed her appetite considerably. She just couldn't forget that night. Nor him.

"People like you who are already slim with a gorgeous body don't just decide to lose weight for the heck of it." He continues. "And judging by the slightly dark circles under your eyes that your concealer couldn't hide, you ain't doing so good. Spill your guts to me girl, I promise not to charge you for the session."

Jasmine sighed. He caught her in a weak moment.

With no friends to speak of except her sister who was away starting her new life, she didn't have the heart to call her and vent. She and Sammy grew close over the last few months and felt like he already wedged himself in her life like a friend would. She really needed to get it off her chest and confide in someone before it tortured her to death. And since the psychologist side of him was surfacing she might as well.

"Remember Cristiano Russo? From the wedding?"

Sammy sat forward in his seat and gasped, his eyes widening. "It's happened! You've been shot with an arrow by Cupid just like your sister! Don't tell me that extra fine specimen already proposed to you? Jesus! With the way he was eye screwing you and the track record the women of your family have marrying the first guy they see, I wouldn't put it passed you!"

Jasmine grimaced, "It's not like that actually, as a matter of fact it's quite the opposite."

"Hold up! The opposite? This will be needing an order of popcorn! Where's that martini?" He asks glancing over his shoulder. He turns back to her. "The drama you St. James's go through on a daily basis needs to be made into a blockbuster movie."

"I don't know if I should be relieved at your enthusiasm or insulted." She replies, rubbing her temples.

"Tell daddy all about it, girl!" He exclaims eagerly rubbing his hands together. "Why do you think I became a psychologist for? I love gossip! It's my drug, what I live for! I need it on a daily basis just as much as I need a martini. Dr. Sammy Princeton at you service." Exaggerating his words with a grand sweep of his arm and referring to himself. "Besides I give great advice, if I don't say so myself."

A knock sounds at the door.

"Hold that thought, that must be the refreshments I ordered," Jasmine straightens in her seat. "Come in!" She calls out.

A large silver tray appears in the doorway held by one of the hotel staff butlers and Jasmine's personal favorite employee. Reginald was a middle aged in his mid-fifties with soft wrinkles around his eyes and blonde hair that was now streaked with gray at the sides.

"Miss, you rang for refreshments and snacks?" Reginald asks in his sharp British accent.

"Yes, Reginald thank you." Jasmine replied with a grateful smile.

Dressed in a high quality butler uniform, of gray striped trousers, long flapped black coat, light grey vest, white pressed shirt with cuff links, a butlers tie grey and white gloved hands–He was the top of his class at The International Butler Academy nearly two decades ago. A added bonus to the staff at The St. James Hotels for the last four years, the man often times acted as though she were his daughter, making sure she was well taken care of when she neglected herself due to work.

Before Jasmine could make a proper introduction, Humphrey, Reginald's nephew, and a butler in training, entered shortly afterward carrying a large bouquet of white flowers. She sat up sharply and practically felt herself visibly pale as her eyes dilate in horror. The smile frozen on her face retracted from her face and an uneasy chill ran down her spine.

No.

"Excuse me Ma'am, these just arrived for you." He says in a low voice, keeping his eyes downcast. The boy was in his early twenties, with a lanky figure, and a head full of red curly hair and very shy. He could never dare look her in the eye and she was grateful today because she knew the expression on her face was horrible.

"Y'all have butlers?" Sammy asks in a whisper, watching Reginald with awe in his eyes.

Jasmine snapped out of her haze, realizing three pair of eyes were waiting for her. She took a deep controlled breath and forced her numb lips to conform into a smile.

"Thank you Humphrey, please place them on the table." Her voice sounded strained yet her turmoil would never over power her sensible manners.

Sammy's eyes follow the flowers with avid interest. "Awwww Hump, you didn't have to!" He gushes, his hands clasped against his chest in gratitude. "But just for future reference, I prefer glitter with my flowers."

Humphrey's face flares a deep crimson red in response to Sammy's statement and his abbreviated name. He quickly sets them down, places his white gloved hands behind his back, bows slightly before them and turns to leave.

Jasmine frowned slightly at his behavior. A new addition to the St. James staff only two months before, Jasmine didn't know how well he was going to make it and take over Reginald's place when he decides to retire. The boy was too modest, shy and becomes uncomfortable quickly, lacking an ease and sophistication that required a certain amount of confidence for his position.

"Reginald allow me to introduce my close friend Mr. Sammy Princeton. He's the guest I informed you about." Jasmine introduces them as he places the tray on the coffee table in the sitting area beside the flowers.

He straightens and adjusts his cuffs giving Sammy a slight bow. "A pleasure to meet you Mr. Princeton and welcome to England. Please do not hesitate if you require anything at all. We are here to serve and exceed in making all guests feel comfortable in their stay with us."

"I'm gonna be liking this. . ." Sammy whispers, his smile widened as an inkling of mischief enters his eyes. "Reggie my fine man," he greets back with a nod of his head, "I'm craving a bowl of popcorn with my martini and a massage later on in the day. Can that be arranged?"

Reginald kept his usual stoic expression on his face. Jasmine couldn't remember the last time she'd ever seen him crack a smile. He was always professional and on his best behavior at all times.

Reginald nods curtly. "Of course, Mr. Princeton I will make certain that popcorn is sent to you straight away. I will also make the necessary arrangements for your massage after lunchtime." He turns to Jamsine, "Will you be requesting anything further Miss St. James?"

Jasmine shakes her head, "Thank you, no that will be all."

Reginald reaches for his pocket watch hidden discreetly in his vest. "Very well. I would like to remind you lunch will be served at the penthouse at precisely one o'clock as you prefer. Mr. Princeton's room has been prepared and his suitcases have been delivered upstairs. His clothing is being ironed and pressed as we speak and stored away for his convenience. If you require anything further just ring for me Miss."

"Thank you again Reginald, you're a lifesaver."

"It's my duty Miss."

"Oh Reggie! I have one more thing to ask. . ." Sammy's declares, appearing thoughtful, gently biting on his index finger.

"Ask away, Mr. Princeton." Reginald encouraged with raised eyebrows, stuffing the pocket watch back discreetly. He clasps his hands behind his back and waits expectantly like the ever obedient servant.

"Can I take you home with me after my vacay's over?" He asks innocently, fluttering his dramatic lashes at the man. "Cause I'm afraid with all this pampering, I'm going to have withdrawal issues when I get back!"

Reginald blinks as if trying to figure out how to process Sammy's request. Jasmine felt a smile tug the corners of her lips so she compresses them together maintaining a neutral expression.

Reginald clears his throat before answering, "I'm honored you value my services Mr. Princeton, but I'm afraid my home is here in England and my place is with the St. James'. Please accept my humble apologies." He directs his attention to Jamsine, "Now if you will excuse me."

"Of course, Reginald."

Once Reginald softly closes the door behind him, Sammy turns to her with wide eyes. "This is so fabulous! He had my things put away and ironed everything? Daayum, this is all so glam! I feel like a spoiled rich princess! Where's my crown y'all? Who's living the duchess life now Fergie?" He giggles and giggles like a maniac and Jasmine could only shake her head at his carefree attitude.

"For your information Fergie is no longer apart of the royal family–she and Prince Andrew divorced." She informed him. "Megan Markle, on the other hand, is living the duchess with her prince as we speak."

"Now that's a fairytale. Damn, do I need me someone royal to wed."

Jasmine's stomach knotted with nerves now that they were alone with the flowers. As hard as she tried ignoring them, the white roses stood there in wait, demanding her attention. "Now if you're finished lets return to the topic at hand before we were interrupted."

Sammy jumps from his seat and strides towards the tray. "Hold that thought, I'm gonna be needing that martini before we begin."

He stood right next to the two dozen soft white roses and felt the dread settle in her belly. The first time they were pink with several bouquets. This time it was white and only one. Perhaps it wasn't Cristiano this time. She could only hope as the anxiety she kept hidden began to surface.

Sammy slowly raises the martini glass to his lips and closed his eyes. "Ahhhh, nothing like a fine martini to help ease the soul." He lifts the glass in inspection as it were a personal treasure.

Jasmine quirked an eyebrow returning her attention to his standing profile. "You do realize it's still morning."

Sammy shook his head. "Uh-uh, according to my watch it's evening time back in the states." He turns to the bouquet. "By the way, who are the flowers Hump left here for?" He asks, taking a step forward and plucking the card perched between the white flowers. "What's up with that little shrimp anyway? I like Reggie, he won me over when I heard he took care of my things. That shrimp scuttled right out of here with out so much of a hello." Without waiting for an answer he plucks the card.

Jasmine gulps nervously feeling a lump of apprehension form there. "I–uh, Humphrey?"

She was scared to of that card, deathly afraid.

"He looks like the type of man if he checked his account balance at an ATM, it would print him a coupon for tic-tacs!" Sammy shudders. "Jesus! His plaque coated teeth could scare away a damn skunk!"

"He's a new addition to the staff and keeps a polite distance and obeys orders quite well. The boy can't even look me in the eye without turning red in the face." She stares intently at the card in his hands. "Perhaps he thinks I'm intimidating."

Sammy looks up from the card with an impish smile. "I don't know about you but it's better to feared than loved." He says sending her a wink. "Hold up and listen to this:

Jasmine's scalp prickled and literally felt the bile burn in her stomach. He left a message. She couldn't get her lips to move to answer him as she stared unseeingly right through him.

He re-reads it again slowly this time. "To the heart and mind ignorance is kind. C. Who in hell is C?" Sammy inquires, lifting his gaze to meet her stricken one. "You have yourself a secret admirer, Jazzy?" He asks, inspecting the fine grain of paper the card was made of. "This is better than gossip!" Sammy lifts his eyes in wait for her answer. "Youuuuu-hooooo earth to Princess Jamsine. . ." He waves her down to get her attention.

Jasmine focused back to the present. "Cristiano. I believe the C stands for Cristiano Russo." She explains slowly, her shoulders tensing as his name passed her lips. "He sent me several bouquets just last week."

"Well that sexy Italian has some great taste in flowers. These are grade A quality." Sammy shrugs, bending down the smell the center of the petals. "But he should have added some sparkle to them, would have had them stand out more." He mumbles, placing the card back and petting the petals affectionately.

Jasmine clears her throat delicately and runs a hand through her thick, silky, light brown hair. "Yes, well his affections are not welcome in the least as far as I'm concerned." Feeling frustrated, as the tension in her shoulders increased.

"What in the name of Chanel is that supposed to mean? I hate riddles and puzzles and all that shit! What'd he do that was so–"

"Sit down Sammy, the gossip I have for you will most certainly make your day. Who ever thought ones pain gives others joy?" She mumbles to herself with a shake of her head. "Ready to listen to what that sorry excuse of a man said to me before I left France?" She reveals, clasping her trembling hands above her desk to keep them from shaking.

"I'm dying here Jazzy! Tell me already!" Sammy snaps.

Jasmine took a deep breath, then exhaled it slowly. "What I'm about to discuss must never go outside this room. I must have your absolute assurance that it won't. Don't you dare say anything to my sister, my mother. . ." Pinning him a stern look. "Nobody."

Sammy bristled where he stood, shifting from one foot to the other. They were staring at each other, gazes locked in subtle confrontation. He was struggling with himself, she could tell. Sammy had a big mouth and known for his outrageous outbursts and dramatic actions. She couldn't risk her little secret getting leaked.

Sammy remained still for a full minute, and Jasmine wondered if he intended to answer her. She was not accustomed to making herself vulnerable to other people; relying on the word of Sammy was slightly nerve-racking.

"Girl, you strike a hard bargain!" He declares with a sharp lisp, stomping his foot in agitation. "I solemnly swear on everything Chanel, I will not tell a living soul." He vows raising his left hand and placing the other on his heart. ". . . Unless I get the green light from you." He clears his throat. "Of course."