Corporate Affair (The Small Town Girl series)

by Linda Cunningham

  He reached her just as she got behind the wheel, the ignition key in her hand. He took her forcefully by the arms and lifted her out of the car.

  “What the hell! Hey!” she shouted at him. “What are you doing? Get your hands off me! Let go of me!”

  “You can’t drive,” Aiden started to explain. He was breathing hard, but not from physical exertion.

  “Get away from me or I’ll start screaming!” She began to rummage in her purse. “I’m calling the police right now!”

  It was then that Aiden saw the flashing blue lights of the police cruiser. “Somebody saved you a call,” he said wryly.

  The cruiser pulled up close behind Jordan’s car, blocking any movement. A big uniformed officer got out, flashlight in hand.

  “Jordan!” the officer exclaimed, recognizing her.

  “John…John,” she stammered, unable to finish her sentence.

  “What’s going on here?” said the officer.

  Aiden spoke up, “We were having dinner, officer. She didn’t feel well, and we came out here to lock up her car. I’m going to give her a ride home.”

  The big man turned to Jordan. “Is this true, Jordan?”

  Aiden held his breath. He watched as Jordan blinked hard and leaned back against the vehicle.

  “Y-Y-Yes,” she said weakly, “that’s right. I wasn’t…I-I don’t feel very good.”

  Aiden exhaled and unclenched his hands. The police officer turned to him. “I’m John Giamo, Clark’s Corners Chief of Police,” he said. “I’ve known Jordan since she was a child. She babysat for my kids. Just who might you be?”

  Aiden cleared his throat and met the man’s eyes. He noticed immediately that, although Giamo’s general appearance was bland and ordinary, his eyes reflected an intelligence that was undeniable. They reminded Aiden of a hawk’s eyes, missing nothing.

  Aiden recovered his self-confidence. Jordan was going along with his ruse. “I’m Aiden Stewart,” he said. “Ms. Fitzgerald and I were having a dinner meeting, a business meeting.”

  “Becky got a call at the station about an inebriated young woman in a dark green dress,” the police chief said. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw it was you. You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes, yes, my stomach hurts and I feel dizzy,” she replied, “but I’m not drunk. I just had ginger ale. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

  “Maybe you ate something bad,” said Giamo. “Bill Noyes better check his kitchen. Say hi to your parents for me. Hope you’re feeling better.” He nodded at Jordan but then glared at Aiden sharply.

  “I’ll get her home safely,” Aiden said, finally relaxing a little as the officer got back into his cruiser and drove away.

  Aiden took a deep breath. The cool night air felt good in his nostrils. “Let me have the keys and I’ll drive you home,” he said gently.

  Jordan put her hands up to her eyes. “What’s going on?” she asked. “I didn’t have anything, yet I feel like I drank a fifth of rot-gut whiskey. It must have been bad food.”

  “What did you have to eat?”

  “Prime rib,” she said weakly. “Don’t talk to me about food.”

  “I had the same thing and I’m fine. I’ll tell you what happened.”

  She looked up at him and suddenly her face went white.

  “What’s wrong?” Aiden asked urgently. “Are you going to faint?”

  “Oh…oh,” Jordan said softly. “I-I think I’m going to be sick. Get away. Get away from me.” She waved her hand at him, turned, and slumped against the car. Aiden reached out and gripped her arms, holding her up.

  “Maybe you need to go to the emergency room,” he said. “I think Fenton put something in your drink.”

  “No! Don’t take…don’t take me anywhere. I can’t go…go home like this. I can’t let anybody see me like this. I’ll be fine in a minute. Just let me lie down. I’ll scream if you touch me.”

  Aiden ignored her. “Can you still walk? Here, lean on me.” He slipped his arm around her waist and held her close to his body. “We’re going up to my room.”

  He began to walk slowly back, half dragging the semi-conscious woman. He felt her sigh. Feeling the warmth of her body, he gripped her more tightly, protectively, as he guided her across the parking lot. He felt her shudder a little, and it seemed to Aiden that she was finally willing to surrender to his help as she slumped against him.

  It was ten o’clock as they entered the lobby. Aiden was thankful that it was dimly lit and there was nobody behind the desk. He saw the stairway ahead and knew he would have to get her up to the safety of his room before they were seen. She was nearly dead weight now. He glanced around, and seeing no one, he carefully arranged her pashmina around her face to shield her from any surveillance cameras that might be there. Then he lifted her into his arms and made his way up the stairs.

  Jordan nestled snug against his chest. For such a tall girl, she didn’t feel particularly heavy or awkward to carry. Aiden climbed the stairs, holding her close. As he fumbled with his key in the door of his room, he could feel her heart beating next to his own.

  Aiden carried Jordan to the bed and laid her down. She seemed to be sleeping now, and some of her color had returned. He positioned her head comfortably on the pillow, brushing her long hair back from her face. He paused a minute, feeling the softness of it, before pulling the comforter gently over her.

  He turned and locked the door, thinking, Now what? Again he gazed at the woman asleep in his bed. Aiden ran his fingers through his hair. He had probably just blown the most important thing his father had ever entrusted him to do, but well, unforeseen circumstances had interfered with his carefully laid plans. He crossed the room and pulled down the blinds, shutting out the dim glow from the old-fashioned street light outside. He switched on the small lamp on the dresser. It was a three-way bulb, and he turned it to its lowest wattage. He paced the room for a minute or two, confused, glancing at Jordan repeatedly, watching for the rise and fall in the comforter that indicated she was still breathing evenly.

  Finally, he blew through his lips in exasperation, and pulling off his shoes, he climbed up on the bed and sat beside her, propped up on pillows. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and began to play Angry Birds. Jordan was breathing regularly; it appeared any danger was probably past. Aiden would wait for her to sleep it off.

  Chapter Five

  THE FIRST SENSATION JORDAN WAS AWARE OF was one of being safe and warm. She stirred slightly under the soft comforter that covered her. As she pulled herself up into consciousness, she thought she must be in her own bed, her baby beside her. Something was vaguely different, though. She moved her hand, but there was no baby beneath it. Even before she was fully awake, panic began to set in. Where was she? Who was in bed with her? She moaned and opened her eyes. The realization hit her like a stone: she was not home, and she was not alone. Her eyes would not focus. The panic exploded in a rush of adrenaline. Jordan threw the comforter off and vaulted from the bed. In the half-light, she stumbled on something on the floor and cried out in pain.

  A man shot up from the other side of the bed, and a cell phone clattered to the floor.

  “What the hell!” yelled Jordan. “What the hell is going on? What am I doing here? Who are you?” A sudden dizziness set upon her, and she reeled.

  In an instant, Jordan was caught in the man’s arms as she sank to her knees. She mounted an effort to get away, and she stood again. “Get your hands off me!” she mumbled.

  “It’s me, Aiden. Aiden Stewart. Calm down. You’ll wake the whole building.”

  “Let—go—of—me!” She struggled to break free of his grip.

  Aiden dropped his arms and stepped away, his back to the door. “Calm down,” he repeated. “Let me tell you what happened.”

  Jordan said nothing. She stood there, motionless, her hands clenched, her hair in a wild halo around her head and shoulders. And despite the pain in her stomach, her eyes widened in anger.

  A
iden cleared his throat. “I think Fenton drugged your drink. He set you up, Jordan.”

  Jordan blinked. This couldn’t be happening. “You’re lying,” she said in a deadly voice, but Aiden shook his head.

  “I’m telling you the truth,” he said. He was beginning to relax. His voice slowed, and he talked more confidently. “Will you please listen to me?”

  The room was beginning to spin again. Jordan sat back down on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor. I might as well hear what he has to say, she thought. “Go ahead.”

  “How much do you remember?” When Jordan didn’t answer, Aiden went on. “I was at dinner, seated just a couple of tables away from you, when you came in with Fenton. You didn’t see me, and he doesn’t know me. I could hear pieces of your conversation. I knew you were talking about Chat. Then, when you got up to go to the ladies’ room, I could see something had happened. I knew you didn’t feel well. At first I thought you drank too much.”

  Jordan made a sarcastic sound. “I just had ginger ale,” she said emphatically.

  Aiden continued, gaining confidence. “By the time you got back, I could see you were sick. When you left to go home, I overheard Fenton calling the police, reporting an inebriated woman in a green dress leaving the Inn.”

  Jordan lifted her head and looked at Aiden. Her eyes had adjusted to the partially lighted room, and she could make out his features now. She could see his concern. Her heart, which had been pounding in her chest, began to slow. “Fenton called the police?” she asked slowly.

  Aiden nodded. “Yes,” he said. “He wanted them to pick you up. He must have put something in your drink to mimic intoxication, to impair you. Do you remember anything about what happened?”

  Jordan looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. “Are you making this up? Are you lying to me?” She still could not wrap her mind around such an incredulous scenario.

  Aiden spoke sharply. “Jordan, this is serious! I’m telling you the truth. Now what do you remember?”

  Jordan flexed her shoulders and brushed her unruly hair back from her face. Her stomach still hurt, and she felt weak and queasy. She tried to concentrate.

  “I remember dinner, of course,” she said slowly, not looking up from her hands. “I remember dinner and then, and then—” Jordan looked up and found Aiden’s eyes, full of compassion and concern. She smiled ever so slightly. “And then I remember you. I remember you running toward me. I was only trying to get into my car and drive home. I was feeling so sick. You were yelling at me. You scared me.”

  “Sorry.”

  Jordan’s smile deepened. “That’s okay. Oh, and I remember John showed up.”

  “Who?”

  “John Giamo, our police chief.”

  “Yes. He was there. He’ll tell you they got a call about a young woman driving drunk.”

  Jordan put her hands up to her face. “I can’t believe this!”

  “Believe it,” muttered Aiden. “Can I turn on a stronger light?”

  Jordan nodded. Aiden switched on the bedside lamp, and Jordan glanced at the red numbers on the digital clock. It was two a.m.

  “I’ve got to get home,” she said.

  “I’ll drive you,” said Aiden. “It still wouldn’t be safe for you to drive.”

  “You’re right.” She sighed as she bent down to pick up her shoes from the floor. “I don’t even think I can walk in these heels right now. I’m still dizzy.”

  “Oh, so you want me to carry you down, too?”

  She looked at him, noticing a playful smile on his lips. “Did you carry me up here?”

  “I did,” he said. “I wanted you to be safe.”

  She was silent for a moment and then she said, “Well, thank you, Aiden. Thank you for that.”

  Aiden coughed in embarrassment. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “Any time.”

  Jordan stood up shakily. “I better go home. They’ll be wondering where the hell I am.”

  Aiden stuck his neck out with his next question. “They?”

  Jordan fumbled with her hair, trying to wind it back into a bun. “I live with my parents,” she said simply.

  “Is Grace your mother?”

  Jordan looked up sharply. “Why do you ask?”

  “You mumbled something about Grace while you were sleeping.”

  “Oh. Oh, well, yes. Grace is my mother. Look, I have to try to put myself back together. Excuse me.” She went into the bathroom and closed the narrow door behind her.

  “Crap!” she said with a groan. “I look a fright!”

  “You don’t,” came reassurance from the other side of the door. “You look fine.”

  “Thanks for lying to me,” she said as she opened the bathroom door. She was barefoot, and her hair was pulled back from her face except for a few tendrils that curved over her forehead. She was suddenly aware that Aiden was watching her with something in his eyes that made her pulse quicken.

  “Let’s go.” Her tone was urgent. “I don’t want anybody to see me here like this with you. Rumors spread like wildfire in a town like this.”

  Aiden led the way down the creaky old stairway. They crossed the lobby silently, and when they got outside, Jordan stopped for a moment. “Would you lend me your arm, please? I want to put my shoes on now.”

  Aiden offered his arm without hesitation as she lifted her legs up, one by one, and slipped her shoes on. Her dress hiked nearly to her hip, and she hurriedly yanked it down as she caught a glance out of the corner of her eye. “There,” she said. “I’m ready. Where’s your car?”

  Aiden led the way to his BMW. He followed her directions and headed out of town on a side street. She had the strange feeling she was in high school again, sneaking home in the wee hours of the morning. It was good to drive over the back roads with a cute guy next to her. Aiden reached down to shift gears in the sports car as she gave directions, and his hand grazed the exposed skin of her thigh. He didn’t seem to notice, but Jordan’s heart leaped. Suddenly, it wasn’t business anymore. It was personal.

  “Here. Right here. Turn right,” Jordan spoke up and pointed. A colonial style lamppost lighted the end of the driveway. Aiden turned in and pulled up to the garage door. The ride was over way too soon. Reality came crashing down.

  “Thank you so much, really,” Jordan said hurriedly as she opened the door, but as she turned her body to get out, Aiden laid his hand on her arm. She paused and looked back at him.

  “Will we still be having a meeting tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Of course,” she answered stiffly. She paused, then continued, “Look, I really appreciate what you did for me—”

  “You said that. You’re welcome.”

  “What I mean is, you have to tell me what you think happened with Fenton.”

  “I told you what I know happened.”

  “I want to hear it again, in detail. This has changed everything. This is criminal. Can you meet me at nine in my office?”

  “You won’t get much sleep.”

  “I never get much sleep. I run a business, and I—” She paused and pushed the car door open.

  “You what?”

  Jordan gave a little laugh. “I get tired,” she replied. “Good night, Aiden, and thank you again. We’ll talk tomorrow. Or, rather, later this morning.” She got out of the car.

  “Good night.”

  It seemed he might have wanted to say more, but she needed to leave, to go inside and get the rest her body needed. Jordan closed the car door and walked away without looking back. From the front window of her parents’ house, she peered out discretely, noticing that Aiden had waited until she’d gone inside before turning the car around and heading back down the road.

  She tipped toed across the kitchen floor, trying to get to her bedroom without waking anyone, but it was too late. Her mother stood in the hallway in her nightgown and bathrobe.

  “Jordan!” she admonished in a stage whisper. “Why are you so late? I was getting worried.”

&nbs
p; “Oh, Mom, I’m sorry. I—I had to go back to the office after the dinner and do some changes on the proposal. Did I wake Grace?”

  Her mother shook her head. “She fell asleep between Dad and me. I just moved her into her crib a few minutes ago. You look a wreck. Are you all right?”

  Jordan brushed at her hair with her hand. “Oh, I fell asleep in my chair while I was working.”

  “Well, get into bed as quickly as you can. You can still get a couple hours of good sleep.”

  “Thank you, Mom,” Jordan said, and she bent forward and kissed her mother on the cheek.

  “I’ll just be happy when you get this behind you and you can work regular hours again and have more time with Grace.”

  “Me, too,” agreed Jordan. She walked quietly down the hall and into Grace’s room, closing the door softly behind her.

  Grace lay asleep in her crib. Jordan gazed at her baby as the nightlight illuminated the innocent, rosy-cheeked face. She drew the blanket up tenderly over the baby’s shoulders and watched her for a few more minutes. Nothing had ever been so perfect. Soft as a butterfly kiss, she touched Grace’s cheek. Then she crossed the hall to her own room where she undressed and pulled on her old, comfortable pajamas. Exhaustion was setting in for real as she walked into her own small bathroom which her father had made for her out of part of her closet. She managed to wash her face and brush her teeth, but she crawled into bed without even trying to put a brush through her tangled hair.

  The cloying, sick feeling was beginning to fade now. Jordan closed her eyes and willed herself to relax so that sleep might come, but her thoughts were slow to stop swirling. She was horrified by the events of the evening. Now all her plans for the business were in a tailspin. She couldn’t even think about what to do until morning. She squeezed her eyes in an effort to banish the worry. As she drifted toward rest, she found herself thinking about Aiden. How did he happen to materialize just when she needed help? And why was he so maddeningly attractive? Jordan’s thoughts stopped as she recalled her feelings at the accidental brush of his hand against her naked thigh when he’d shifted gears in the car.