The One He's Been Looking For

by Joanna Sims

  “Ian, actually.” The bite in Shelby’s tone when she said his name was a hairline crack in her otherwise flawless exterior.

  Ignoring the bait the attorney had thrown her way, Jordan changed the subject and said, “My twin just started law school.”

  Shelby stopped at the bottom of the metal stairs leading to the second floor of the loft and sent her a forced, plastic smile. “How nice for her.”

  Nobody could really fault her tone, smile or words, but Jordan had no trouble figuring out that Shelby had her claws out.

  “Mr. Sterling. Miss Brand has arrived.”

  “And on time, too....” Ian appeared at the top of the stairs. “Did I hear you say something about a twin?”

  “Yes. I have a twin sister. Josephine. She’s studying law at Berkeley.”

  Now Ian was standing next to her. He was fresh out of the shower and she couldn’t stop herself from breathing in the clean, soapy scent that clung to his skin.

  “Fraternal or identical?” he asked, and she could tell by the look on his face that he was pleased she had showed.

  Jordan laughed up at him. She had no idea why she was so happy to see him. “Mirror, actually. Which is why she’s always been the photogenic one. But don’t get any ideas. Trust me.... She’d go all Van Gogh on you and lop off an ear before she’d agree to be a model. The only thing she wanted for her tenth birthday was a signed photograph of Gloria Steinem, and she nearly set the barn on fire burning her training bra when she was eleven. Not model material, if you get my drift.”

  “It’s not a subtle message.” Ian smiled down at her.

  “Shall we get started?” Shelby was curt. “I have another early appointment.”

  Once they got down to business, the attorney was efficient and professional as she reviewed the body of the contract. When they reached the last page, and Jordan had signed and dated for the last time, Shelby opened her briefcase, slipped the signed contract inside, withdrew an envelope and then snapped the briefcase shut. She handed Jordan the envelope as she stood up.

  “I’ll have my secretary send you a PDF copy of the signed contract via email today. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I do have another meeting.” She spun away on her Manolo Blahnik shoes, but paused in the doorway. “And, Jordan?”

  Jordan pulled her eyes away from the check inside the envelope. “Yes?”

  “Good luck with Ian. You’re gonna need it.”

  Caught off guard, Jordan found her brain seizing up and she couldn’t think of a snappy retort. Ian caught her eye briefly, his lips thinned with displeasure, before he followed Shelby into the waiting area.

  “Hey,” he said in a lowered voice. “What was that little tantrum all about, Shelby? It was your idea to stay on as my attorney after we ended things. But I can see now that this isn’t going to work. Someone else at the firm needs to handle my business from now on.”

  “Fine with me.” She swung open the door. “I’ll have my secretary transfer your files to another attorney in the firm and send you a final bill.”

  Jordan heard the outer door to the studio slam shut as Ian reappeared.

  “Listen, Jordan...about what Shelby just said.”

  Jordan shook her head quickly. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Whatever that was, it’s none of my business.”

  “Breaking up is a royal pain in the neck,” Ian muttered under his breath.

  Instead of responding to his statement, Jordan pointed to his cell phone on the table. “You missed a call.”

  He strode over to it, slipped on his reading glasses and then picked up his phone. Jordan began to stand up, not wanting to intrude, but he waved her down. Without a word, he dialed the missed number and then brought the phone up to his ear.

  “You did what? Jesus, Mandy—we’re scheduled to start shooting tomorrow! What were you thinking?”

  Ian paused to listen to the person at the other end of the line. “It’s great you made bail, but what good does that do me? You can’t leave the state now, much less the country. I just don’t understand how you can be this irresponsible. You knew I was counting on you for this shoot. The client requested you!” There was another pause and then Ian said angrily, “No. Stop apologizing, Mandy. You’re out of a job. This conversation’s over.”

  He ended the call, tossed his phone on the table and paced around the room with his arms crossed over his chest. Suddenly, he stopped and looked at Jordan contemplatively. After a second or two he asked, “Do you have a passport?”

  “Sure.” She nodded slowly. “Why?”

  “I need a model,” Ian said firmly. “Go home, pack your bags. I’ll pick you up at your place in one hour. You’re coming to Curaçao.”

  Chapter Six

  For some inexplicable reason, Jordan had allowed Ian to turn her world upside down. Yes, she had always been spontaneous, but packing her bags and flying to a Dutch Caribbean island with a man she had just met was a little impulsive even for her. It had all happened so quickly. One minute she was signing a contract and picking up a check, and then the next minute she found herself in Ian’s Bentley heading toward the executive airport. She’d sent Josephine and Amaya a heads-up text and arranged for one of the alternate bartenders to cover her shifts at Altitude. She hadn’t had a chance to call the folks, but figured there’d be time for that later. She had packed in such a rush that she was certain she was missing imperative toiletries and clothing. And now that she was sitting next to Ian in his Bentley, the reality of her split-second decision was starting to sink in. She was actually leaving the country with Ian Sterling. It felt Salvador Dali surreal, no question about it. Jordan glanced over at Ian, who was talking on the phone, and all she could think was that she had completely lost her marbles.

  She was still considering her sanity when they pulled into Montgomery Airfield. The chauffeur shut off the engine, jumped out and quickly opened the door for her, and when Jordan stepped out of the Bentley, she seriously considered getting right back in. But when Ian came around the back of the car, dapper in his pin-striped suit, and gave her a reassuring smile, her resistance melted away. The man just had a way of making her feel comfortable and in control, as if every decision she made with him was spot-on.

  And she liked it. She liked being with him. In fact, she felt proud to be with him. He commanded attention as he walked through the small airport with his long, determined strides. From behind his amber-tinted sunglasses with the wraparound lenses, he didn’t seem to notice the attention he was receiving from females of all ages as Jordan and he navigated their way through the facility. He always watched out for her, occasionally putting his hand lightly on the small of her back to guide her in front of him so she could avoid another passenger. Little by little, action by action, Ian Sterling was smashing all her preconceived notions about him.

  They cleared customs in no time at all and then headed for Ian’s private hangar. Inside, a small jet emblazoned with the Sterling & Axel logo awaited their arrival.

  “Uh...wow! You have your own jet?” Jordan asked, surprised, as she rolled her bag behind her.

  “I travel so much for work, it was just easier this way.” Ian nodded a greeting to the pilot. “Captain Stern.” The two men shook hands. “Good to see you.”

  “Likewise, Mr. Sterling.”

  “Did you get my message about the additional passenger?”

  “Yes, sir. I did.”

  “Good.” Ian nodded as he turned toward her. “Captain Stern, this is Ms. Brand.”

  “A pleasure, Ms. Brand.” The pilot tipped his hat.

  “Jordan.” She shook his hand.

  “Are we all set?” Ian asked as the pilot began to load their bags into the cargo space of the jet.

  “Yes, sir.” He closed the hatch and straightened. “Once you’re settled, we’ll prepare to leave. Looks lik
e we’ll have good weather all the way to Curaçao, and we should be able to get you there on time.”

  “That’s what I like to hear,” Ian said as he gestured for Jordan to board the jet.

  The aircraft was professionally decorated with masculine grays and blacks combined with shiny sterling-silver accents and mahogany inlays. There were two oversize reclining chairs that faced each other on the right side of the passenger cabin, with a small table in between. A long plush couch lined the left side, with a direct view of the flat screen TV. There was soft, ambient lighting, with pull-down coverings on the windows blocking out the glare of sunlight.

  “Should I sit here?” Jordan nodded to one of the chairs.

  “Take the one on your right, if you don’t mind,” Ian said. He wanted to sit in the chair facing the pilot so his view of the couch and the cockpit wasn’t blocked out by his left eye. If Jordan moved to the couch, he wanted to be able to see her.

  “I don’t mind.” She sat down and immediately buckled her seat belt.

  Ian took off his jacket and hung it up in the small closet behind his chair, then took the seat across from her. “I didn’t know you were going to be joining me or I would’ve had the jet stocked with your favorite foods,” he said. “We do have some snacks and drinks stocked. Water. Coke.”

  “Actually...” Jordan nervously ran her hand along the chair’s armrest. Once inside, she found the jet a little too narrow, a little too claustrophobic for her liking. “Do you have anything stronger?”

  “Is Scotch strong enough?”

  “That’ll do. On the rocks, please.” Jordan wiped her damp palms off on her jeans.

  “I think I’ll join you,” he said as he pulled a bottle and two crystal highball glasses from the small cabinets above the refrigerator. He put ice in hers and then poured his neat.

  “Here you go.” Ian held out the glass for her.

  After he sat down again, he reached forward and touched his glass to hers. “Salute!”

  “Do you only toast in Italian or do you speak it, as well?” Jordan asked of the toast he had made.

  “I’ve picked up a little here and there.” Ian smiled at her before he took a drink.

  “Let me guess...a model you dated?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Nice try. No. Not a model. A reporter.” He winked at her over the rim of his glass. “She had some of the best equipment in the business.”

  Jordan laughed at his comment—that was the first even remotely suggestive one Ian had made to her, and she could tell by the deepening of the laugh lines around his eyes that he was starting to feel comfortable enough around her to joke. And that made her relax a little bit.

  “Oh, I just bet she did.” Jordan smiled back at him before she brought the amber liquid up to her lips and took a small sip. She closed her eyes as the spicy-sweet drink created a burning sensation that started in her throat and ended in her stomach. Jordan let out a long sigh before she opened her eyes. Ian was staring curiously at her.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. I can be kind of an anxious flier sometimes, that’s all. And it just feels a little...cozy in here, you know?”

  “Are you trying to intimate that I have a dinky jet?”

  Jordan laughed. “No. Of course not. Your jet is very substantial.”

  “Thank you,” Ian said with a small smile. “But all kidding aside, are you going to be okay?”

  “Oh. Yeah. No worries.” Jordan took another sip of her drink. “But you know what? Before I was hypnotized, I wouldn’t have been able to get on a plane like this one—no way, no how.”

  “Really?”

  “Seriously. Just the thought of getting on something this small—I mean substantial—sorry...”

  “Forgiven.” Ian smiled at her.

  “...would’ve totally freaked me out.”

  “And hypnosis really helped you get over your fear of flying? I’ve always thought of hypnotists as snake-oil salesmen.”

  “Me, too!” Jordan agreed. “I was shocked when it actually worked. See—my roommate went to a hypnotherapist because she was addicted to vanilla crème doughnuts and was completely outgrowing all her clothes. So this therapist claimed that she could treat you for just about anything. If you could name it, she’d hypnotize you for it—weight loss, smoking, gambling....”

  “Fear of flying.”

  “Exactly,” Jordan said. “So the very same day my roommate was hypnotized, and I’m being totally serious about this, she was cured. One minute she’s making midnight runs for doughnuts and then the next minute she’s free of vanilla crème. So I figured, hey, why not give it a try. Four hundred dollars and four sessions later, I was better. Not totally fixed....” Jordan held up her glass. “Hence the liquid courage. But better.”

  “That’s pretty impressive.”

  “It is.” She nodded. “Who knew?”

  Ian held up his glass in turn. “Well, I’m glad it worked and I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Thank you kindly, sir,” Jordan said as she finished the rest of the Scotch.

  “Would you like another before we take off?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Do you mind if I pull up my shade, though? That might help.”

  “Be my guest.” Ian took both their empty glasses while Jordan slid up her window shade and looked outside.

  Ian retrieved his sunglasses from his jacket and slipped them on before he sat down.

  Jordan glanced over at him and noticed the glasses. “You were really serious about that whole light sensitivity thing, weren’t you? Is that why all the windows are covered? Do you want me to put mine down again?”

  Ian’s dimple appeared as he smiled at her. “Yes, I was being serious when I said that I have light sensitivity. Yes, that’s why the shades are closed. And no, I don’t want you to close yours. I want you to be comfortable.”

  “Okay,” Jordan said. “But if you want me to close it I will.”

  Before Ian could reassure her a second time, Captain Stern’s voice came over the intercom and announced that they would be taxing out to the runway.

  “Are you ready?” Ian asked.

  “Yes.” Jordan’s heart began to race with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. “I’m really excited about going to Curaçao. I’ve been to Grand Turk, but none of the Dutch-owned islands.”

  “I think you’ll be impressed. And, hey—don’t worry about the flight there. Everything’ll be fine.” Ian tried to reassure her as the jet slowly taxied to the runway. “We’re in good hands with Captain Stern. We’ve logged a lot of miles together.”

  Jordan closed her eyes and held on tight to the arms of her chair as the jet sped down the tarmac. Once it was safely in the air and had achieved altitude, she opened her eyes and found Ian watching her intently. No doubt he was making sure that she wasn’t going to freak out on him.

  She gave him a smile and a thumbs-up. “See? No worries.”

  Takeoffs and landings had always been the worst for her, but once they were up in the air, she felt her anxiety begin to subside. Soon the jet reached its cruising altitude and Captain Stern signaled that it was safe to move about the cabin. Jordan unbuckled her seat belt and moved over to the couch. She ran her hand over the supple leather.

  “You know, my sister would be having a total fit right now, subjecting you to a lecture on carbon footprints left by private jets. And don’t get me wrong—I’m concerned about the environment, too! But I’ve gotta admit this is pretty cool.”

  Ian had his chin resting in his palm as he watched her. “I’m glad you approve.”

  “You know what it’s like?”

  He shook his head, a bemused expression on his face.

  “It’s like being on a rerun of the Lifestyles of the R
ich and Famous with Robin Leach.”

  Ian had opened his laptop, but it was more fun to watch Jordan’s unabashed enjoyment of the jet than dig through hundreds of unread emails.

  She pulled her phone out of her pocket and handed it to him. “Here. Do me a favor. Take my picture so I can post it on Facebook.”

  She slid the cover of her window shut and then sat back down on the couch. “I’d rather be able to see your eyes than have the curtain open.”

  “Thank you,” Ian said as he pulled off his sunglasses. He closed his eyes for a moment while they adjusted to the different light. After a minute, he opened them to find Jordan watching him intently.

  “That must be a real pain,” she said. “Light sensitivity. Have you seen a doctor about it?”

  “Many times.” He held up her phone so he could take her picture. “Are you ready for your close-up?”

  Jordan kicked off her shoes and sat cross-legged on the couch. “How do I look?”

  “Beautiful.”

  He snapped the photo and then handed the phone back to her.

  “Even with a crappy camera phone you still managed to make me look good,” Jordan said as she looked at the picture.

  “That’s my job—I make beautiful women look even more beautiful.”

  “I’m going to put this on Facebook right now so Mom has plenty of ‘freak out’ time and has a chance to calm down before I call her.”

  Ian closed the lid of his laptop—no sense pretending that he was going to get any work done when he’d rather spend his time hanging out with Jordan. “Why would she freak out?”

  “Oh—well,” Jordan said as she posted the pic to her Facebook page. “I’ve got a really large family—I’m the youngest of five kids—and we’re all kind of loud and opinionated and in each other’s business all the time. I’m twenty-five but I may as well be twelve as far as my brothers are concerned. And my mom is really protective and just can’t help herself from meddling in my life—it’s her nature. The only ones that are pretty chill are my dad and my brother Tyler.”

  “You’re lucky. I always wanted a big family. I was an only child,” Ian said.