Corporate Affair (The Small Town Girl series)

by Linda Cunningham

  She began revisiting the hospital, the restaurants, and one particularly depressing day, she revisited ChatDotCom. Ashley, whom she had known peripherally in high school, was sitting at the big marble desk in the foyer.

  “Hi, Jordan,” Ashley had said pleasantly as Jordan approached.

  “Hi, Ashley.” Jordan tried not to seem too desperate. “Is there any word on my résumé yet?” She had applied for a web manager position. She knew she was qualified, even over qualified for the job.

  “No, I’m sorry, I haven’t heard, but I could call into personnel and find out for you.”

  “Oh, please, could you do that?”

  Ashley had nodded and picked up the phone. “Carol, this is Ashley at the desk. Jordan Fitzgerald is here. Have you reviewed her résumé yet?”

  “Ask her if I can please just talk to her.” Jordan leaned over the desk, whispering to Ashley.

  “Oh, really? Oh, I’ll tell her—”

  “Please, Ashley, ask if I can talk to her.”

  “Oh, Carol, she’s asking if she might speak with you. Oh, okay. Fine, I’ll tell her.” Ashley hung up the phone. “She says she doesn’t have time today.”

  Jordan would never forget her reaction to the news. She slammed her hand down on the marble. It made a loud slapping sound and bruised her fingers. “Damn!” she said, louder than she should have. “Damn! I have to get a job doing something somewhere. And I’m qualified for this job! I can do this!”

  Ashley never lost her poise; she sat quietly looking straight at her with her heavily made up eyes. Suddenly, the big door behind Ashley opened, and a man peered out. “What’s going on here, Ashley?”

  It was Gene Palmer. Jordan recognized him. She had seen him around town and in the newspaper. Immediately, she regretted her outburst, but she kept her dignity. “I’m sorry I disturbed you, Mr. Palmer. I just lost my temper for a minute. I applied for a job, and nobody has reviewed my résumé yet.”

  “Really? What position did you apply for?”

  “I applied for the web manager’s position.”

  Gene Palmer walked out of his office and stood beside Ashley. “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Jordan Fitzgerald,” she answered. She thought she detected something like a smile forming around the corner of his eyes.

  He held out his hand. “I’m Gene Palmer,” he said. “Why don’t you come into my office. If Carol is too busy to see you, you can talk to me.”

  And that was it. She started the next day. She never understood what had caught his attention, but she never questioned it. She was too grateful.

  Jordan recalled vividly how, as fall and her return to school approached, Mr. Palmer had taken her into his office, alone.

  “I just want you to know that a job exists for you here at Chat, whenever you want it. I know you have to finish school, but I am very sorry to…to lose you. I wish I could make you sign a contract to come back, but you’ll probably need to see the whole wide world before you return to our little company in Clark’s Corner. I’ll miss you, personally and professionally.”

  She was overcome at this admission of feeling from him, and she blushed. At that moment, Ashley walked into the room, a sheaf of paper in her hands. “Mr. Palmer,” she began, but then intuitively felt the tension of the situation. She looked quickly from one to other and then said smoothly, “I have the insurance papers ready for your signature. Is this a good time?”

  “Certainly,” said Mr. Palmer, and the tension was broken. “Bring them over here, and I’ll sign them now.”

  They didn’t speak personally to each other again. The summer ended. Jordan had been able to pay enough of her tuition with the help of financial aid to return to school. She left a sizable sum of money for her parents to pay bills with while they continued to job hunt.

  “Why so quiet?” Aiden’s voice jolted her back to the present. “What are you thinking about?”

  “Oh, nothing, really. Just looking around,” she lied. She had been thinking about something. She had been thinking about that day in late September when she found out she was pregnant. She’d shut down then. She’d shut down and crept home. After she’d told her mother and father, she’d gone that same afternoon to see Gene Palmer. He’d acted toward her as he always had. “We can manage this,” he’d said. “Welcome back to Chat.”

  Chapter Twelve

  AS AIDEN AND JORDAN made their way along the old Route 1, Jordan watched the sunlight play on the white-capped waves. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Aiden said. “My parents’ house is right around this bend here. It’s on the cliff and overlooks the bay.”

  Jordan was sure it would be beautiful. This was such a different world. Her thoughts escaped her before she could stop them. “I’m feeling like I’m in some kind of haze right now,” she said to Aiden. “I’m here with you, in this beautiful place, but I don’t really know you, and I don’t really know where I am or how I got here. I feel—I feel like I don’t really know much at all.” After she spoke, she felt like a fool. She shouldn’t betray her vulnerability like this, even to Aiden. “That’s not what I mean,” she added hastily. “I’m perfectly competent and confident about the business…”

  Aiden made a sharp turn into a side road and stopped the car. She looked at him questioningly. He turned in his seat and took both her hands in his. “Look at me,” he said quietly. She looked up into his beautiful, bright eyes. There was a hint of a worry line between his brows. “Jordan, of course you’re confident about the business deal. You orchestrated it. You wrote most of it. You risked your life doing it, what with Fenton’s bullshit. Nobody doubts you as an exceptional business head.” His breath caught for an instant. “That’s part of the reason you’re here, but there’s another reason you’re here, Jordan.”

  They looked into each other’s eyes, each searching for the thing they wanted to see, the one thing they hoped to find there. “Jordan, I love you.”

  Jordan’s eyes dilated. She moved her mouth as if to speak, but no words came. Instead, she felt an intense heat flush through her, and her stomach flipped. Finally, she whispered, “Aiden…”

  “Shhh,” he said softly. “You don’t have to say anything. I want you to know how I feel. That’s the other reason you’re here. I want you to see who I am, who my people are. I know you have so many more responsibilities than I do, so right now, just know that I love you. I don’t want to burden you with it; I just want you to know. We can go from there.”

  Slowly, Jordan pulled her hand free of his. She lifted it to his face, cupping his cheek. Such a dear face, she thought. She leaned in and kissed him tenderly on the mouth. She spoke barely above a whisper. “Aiden, that makes me very happy. I love you too.”

  Aiden put his hands on either side of her neck and rested his forehead against hers. Then he kissed her again, this time deeper, his tongue probing between her lips. His hand slipped down to her breast. With a sigh, he pulled back. “Circumstances prevent my going where I really would like to go.” He grinned at her. “We better go up to the house. My father will think I kept on driving.”

  Jordan gave a little giggle to cover her nervousness. “I guess this is where I meet your parents, then,” she said.

  “Yes, it is.”

  They continued up the dirt road, which was actually the long driveway to the house. Jordan could smell the sea breeze through her open window. They swung up a gentle turn, and the house came into view.

  “Oh, it’s beautiful, Aiden,” she said, charmed. It was a tall, two-story colonial, painted yellow with deep green shutters and white trim. A graceful porch swept down onto the front lawn where the drive widened out into parking places. Aiden pulled in beside his father’s Mercedes.

  “It didn’t always look like this,” said Aiden. “When my family moved in, I wasn’t even born yet. There was no working central heat, and the roof leaked. My father bought it for the property alone. My mother made it beautiful.”

  “Well, you saw where I live. I bet you
could fit our whole house in your living room!”

  “Not quite,” said Aiden. “It’s got a nice view of Casco Bay. I’ll take you down to the boathouse later. Let’s go in.”

  Jordan unbuckled Grace from her car seat and shouldered the diaper bag. “I’m going to have to change Grace,” she said. Aiden took her arm and led her across the graveled drive to the front door. It opened before they reached it. Jordan knew by family resemblance that the smiling woman standing before them had to be Nell Stewart.

  “Welcome, welcome,” she said. “Please, come in. What an adorable baby!” Grace stared at her with wide eyes.

  “Mom, this is Jordan Fitzgerald and Grace. Jordan, this is my mother, Nell Stewart.”

  “I’m so happy to meet you, Jordan,” said Nell. “And congratulations are in order, I hear. Gordon told me you cemented the merger this afternoon.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Stewart,” answered Jordan. “Yes, we finalized everything. I think I can say everybody is satisfied with the merger.”

  “Come in, please,” said Nell, opening the door wider.

  “Is there somewhere I can change Grace, Mrs. Stewart?” asked Jordan.

  “Of course. Follow me.”

  Nell led the way through the foyer and down the hall to the kitchen. It was a long, sunny room with a bay window that looked out over cliffside gardens down to the water. At one end was a lovely fireplace with the original beehive oven built into the old bricks. A wood burning stove sat to the right of the oven. Jordan noticed it was similar to the one in her parents’ home. In the bay window there was a window seat upholstered in spring green toile. From somewhere, the scent of lilacs was drifting into the room.

  “Change her right there on the window seat,” said Nell. “I’m just getting some tea ready. We’ll have some out on the porch. It’s so beautiful this afternoon.”

  “Thank you,” said Jordan, settling Grace down to tend to her diaper. As she changed the baby, she watched Nell collecting the cups and teapot on a tray. The kitchen was modern, with granite countertops and stainless-steel appliances, and yet it was warm and inviting. There was a stool at the island, an invitation for somebody to talk to the cook. The cabinets glowed with the subtle warm orange tone of cherry wood. A cozy seating arrangement was clustered around the fireplace, and the table was big enough to seat a large family.

  “What a beautiful room,” she commented.

  “Well, it didn’t always look like this.” Nell laughed as she opened a drawer and took out spoons. “When we first moved in, there was a big hole in the floor over there near where you’re sitting. I was so afraid one of the girls was going to drop right through it. Gordon nailed a piece of plywood over it. We spent most of our time in this room because the wood stove was here. It was the warmest place in the house. I used to have the wood stacked where the porch is now. It was just an overhang then, and close to the house. For a while, it was usually me, my two little girls, three dogs, and two cats penned up here together most of the day. Summers were fine, because we could be outside. Winters got a little tough, though. I felt like a pioneer woman.”

  Jordan lifted Grace up and sat her on her lap. The baby was quiet. It was nearly time for her afternoon nap. “It must have been hard at first,” she said. “How long did it take to restore it?”

  “Oh, it was a long, slow process. Gordon worked most of the time. I did what I could, like painting and things, but we couldn’t afford to do the important things for quite a while. And then, whenever we had some money, we would have to choose how to spend it. We would sit at that table right there and weigh the pros and cons. Do we need to fix the roof, or will the patch hold for another season? Can we afford not to get storm windows? Things like that. Little by little, we did it. By the time Aiden was born, my girls were ten and twelve. That was a surprise, I’ll tell you! It was that year, though, that Gordon really made some money and the ball started rolling. After that, it got easier. Looking back, I don’t know how we did it, but, you know, we didn’t even know how hard it was when we were going through it. It’s only looking back that I just can’t believe it!” She laughed her lyrical laugh again. There was something about her that reminded Jordan of her own mother. No matter what happened, they pushed through, hand-in-hand with their husbands. Could she and Aiden form a partnership like their parents? She shuddered, suddenly, and buried the thought. It wasn’t good to speculate on assumptions.

  Her shudder was not lost on Nell. “Are you cold, Jordan? Would you like a sweater?”

  “Oh, no, thank you. I’m really quite comfortable.”

  “Let’s go out on the porch, then. Gordon and Aiden will appear the second I bring these brownies out.”

  Jordan gathered up her daughter and followed the older woman out onto the screened-in porch. She sat down in one of the cushioned, wrought-iron chairs and cuddled Grace as the baby drank her bottle. It was a peaceful outdoor room, dotted here and there with pots of flowering plants. There was a view of the evening sun-lit bay across the sloping lawn. Lilacs, in full bloom, hugged the corners of the porch, their scent wafting through the screens.

  “There they are,” said Nell, pointing out over the lawn. “What did I tell you? Men will gather every time you put food out!”

  Aiden and Gordon were walking back toward the house. Aiden opened the door and held it for his father. “We were just down inspecting the boathouse,” said the old man, sitting down heavily in the chair next to Jordan. He reached for a brownie, carefully avoiding his wife’s disapproving glare. “Aiden will have to take you down there,” he said to Jordan.

  “I would love to see it,” said Jordan politely. The brownie smelled heavenly, and a cup of tea would be just what she needed now, but Grace had gone to sleep in her arms, and she was afraid to move. Aiden saw the sleeping child.

  “She’s asleep,” he said. “She fell asleep!”

  “Babies do that, dear,” Nell replied.

  Jordan laughed softly. “It’s all the traveling and new faces. She’s tired out.”

  “I’ll get that playpen or whatever it is in the back of the car,” said Aiden. “You can put her down in that.”

  “Thank you,” said Jordan, smiling up at him. It was all too familiar, somehow. As he turned and went out the screen door, Jordan caught the glance between Gordon and Nell. This little interaction, so simple and yet so intimate, had just blown their cover. Nell and Gordon were his parents, after all. Jordan felt acutely awkward, but Nell said, smooth as silk, “How old is Grace, Jordan?”

  “She turned one on April sixth,” answered Jordan. “She’s thirteen months old.”

  “That’s when they start to be a handful. And she’s walking already, too! She’s such a good baby, though! Aiden walked when he was a year old. He started climbing things before we knew it. He was always trying to keep up with his sisters.” Nell laughed at the memory. “He wore me out!”

  “Are you talking about me? My ears are burning.” Aiden came back, carrying the folded portable crib. “Where do you want this?” He addressed the question to Jordan. She looked at Nell.

  “Let’s take it right into the kitchen. We’ll put it in the corner by the fireplace. I’ll stay right there with her. You take this opportunity, Jordan, to take a walk around with Aiden. You can talk about the business and see the boathouse. Just relax. Grace will be perfectly safe with us.”

  As though she had known her all her life, Jordan felt she could trust Nell. “Well, okay, if—if you don’t mind.”

  “We don’t mind at all!”

  Aiden set the crib up in the corner. Jordan laid the sleeping child down on a colorful quilt and pulled a light blanket over her. “Now, go. Go before she wakes up,” whispered Nell, making shooing motions with her hands.

  “Thank you so much,” said Jordan.

  “Thanks, Mom,” Aiden added. He opened the screen door, and he and Jordan walked out onto the wide lawn ringed with colorful perennial beds.

  Both of them distinctly heard G
ordon say to his wife, “Like hell they’re going to talk about business!”

  “Gordon, keep quiet!” Nell scoffed. “They’ll hear!”

  Aiden stifled a laugh. He bent down and whispered to Jordan as they walked across the lawn, “My father couldn’t keep quiet to save his life!”

  Jordan laughed out loud. She was starting to feel relaxed, starting to cautiously enjoy herself and the company of this man with whom she suddenly found herself in love.

  Aiden led Jordan down the slope of the far end of the lawn. As the lawn dropped away, he turned to take her hand and was unexpectedly electrified by her beauty. The spring breeze blowing off the bay had caught her coppery hair. It billowed softly around her face, alight with a burnished glow from the evening sun. Her modest clothing only accentuated her voluptuousness. Aiden felt his heart leap. He took her around the waist and swung her down to stand beside him on a wooden deck built out over the rocks. Wooden steps, supported by rebar drilled into the ledge and weathered and gray with age, led down over the rocks to the small beach, a tiny inlet within the bigger bay, protected between two small pine covered peninsulas. A small white clapboarded building sat over the water. A dock stretched out into the bay, and the Nellie Bly, the fifty foot sailing yacht, sat tranquilly in the dark water, rocking ever so slightly as the waves lapped at her sides with the eternal ebb and flow of the tide.

  “It’s beautiful, Aiden,” said Jordan, leaning on the deck’s railing and looking at the vista that stretched before her. “It’s absolutely beautiful. It doesn’t even look real!”