Jordan hardly ever said please. “How long?”
He smiled because he knew he’d won. “Not long. I don’t know exactly. One month, two, tops. There’s a lot to work out before they get to us, but we’re on their radar, thanks to me.”
“Who? What?”
He pressed one finger against her lips, shushing her. “All in good time, my dear.”
She nipped his finger, which only made him smile and pretend to snap at her like a crocodile with his gleaming white teeth. She turned to her other side where Wade and Alex sat, munching on mixed nuts and drinking whiskey. “You guys know what Jordan’s up to?”
“He’s always up to something,” Alex said.
“Yup,” Wade put in.
“They don’t know,” Jordan said in her ear. She shoved him away.
“Stop talking in my ear,” she said. “It’s very sensitive.”
“I know,” he cooed in her ear.
She huffed out a breath of frustration and gave him her back. “What do you guys think about putting out our own album?”
“Cool,” Wade said.
“Hold that thought,” Jordan said, leaning his arm against the bar next to her and somehow making it feel like his arm was around her at the same time. He spoke to the guys. “Our big break is just around the corner.”
“Ain’t it always?” Alex said before downing his whiskey.
She looked from Alex to Wade. They’d been with her the longest, seeming content to play whatever gigs she and Jordan scrounged up for them. Wade worked for his family’s produce company driving the morning delivery route, sleeping days, playing gigs at night. Alex had a trust fund. His family pretended he was a percussionist in a symphony to their friends. She sighed. These two never hungered for success the way she did.
“You’ve got one month,” she told Jordan. And then she’d do something on her own, Next American Voice or a solo indie album, she wasn’t sure which, but something.
Jordan pulled her right off the stool and into his arms, rocking her from side to side. “I knew I could count on my girl.”
She pulled away. “I’m not your girl.”
“You know what I mean,” he said, lifting his beer again. “We all call you our girl. Right, guys?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Wade and Alex muttered, well used to this argument.
She moved back to her bar stool. “Give me a hint, Jor.”
He leaned close and grinned, his eyes full of mischief. “Promise not to tell a soul?”
“Yes!” she said, thoroughly exasperated with him, but unable to help smiling.
“Ever hear of Hep Six?”
“Omigod!” Hep Six was an internationally acclaimed jazz band that did regular tours of Europe. Their music was amazing, and they even had several hits that got regular radio play.
“Shh!” He smiled, seeming pleased with her response. “So just think about that.”
Wade and Alex leaned in. “What are we omigod about?” Wade asked.
“Hep Six might want us!” Zoe exclaimed.
Jordan shook his head. “Keep it down.”
Wade and Alex looked at each other, brows raised. She bounced up and down in her seat. “As backup, or as an opener?” She smacked Jordan’s arm. “What? Tell me!”
He chuckled. “They’re considering us for an opener, but it’s not a sure thing. They’re considering a lot of bands. Keep it under your hat.” He put his hand on top of her head to keep it there.
She just stared at him, slack jawed. She couldn’t believe it. Even just singing backup for Hep Six would be such an honor. To open for them would be a dream come true. Maybe they’d get a chance to jam together, hang out, learn from them. She got goose bumps. This was huge. The big break she’d been waiting for, and she’d have it with her band.
Jordan put one finger under her chin and closed her mouth for her. “That was exactly the right response,” he told her.
“Cool,” Wade said.
“Let us know when you know,” Alex said. “Pool?”
“Nah, you go,” Jordan said. “I need to talk to Zoe.” Wade and Alex nodded and wandered off.
“How well do you know your new landlord?” Jordan asked.
She sipped her martini. “Well enough.”
“You see him much?” Jordan asked. “He bothering you?” That last part came out quiet and menacing.
She sipped her drink. Did hot and bothered count? Now that they were adults, Jordan played the protective older brother role. As kids, he’d teased her relentlessly. And as teenagers, well, that was when all hell broke loose. At least for her. Jordan, two years older, had morphed overnight into a gorgeous six-foot hunk of man. He was her first kiss, her first time, her first love. She was none of those things to him, and he’d treated her as carelessly.
She’d run into him at twenty at a party in the Village when he’d returned home from college, sure that now that they were both grown up, they could be together. She practically threw herself at him, had secretly been in love with him since he’d obligingly kissed her at thirteen when she’d brazenly asked him that summer. Again, he took what she offered, and the next morning sent her on her way, saying he hoped they could still be friends. She saw him the next night kissing another woman at yet another party.
She’d made the mistake of confronting him. “Jordan, what are you doing? Who’s she?”
“Cherise,” he said with a smile, “this is Zoe, a family friend.”
Cherise wrinkled her nose. “She’s so cute. How old are you? Are you allowed to be here?”
Jordan laughed. “Old enough for some things. Right, Zoe?”
She sputtered, so furious she couldn’t get a word out. And then she turned and walked out, her cheeks burning in humiliation.
She stopped going to Village parties for a while after that. She’d moved on. Years later, as their paths crossed at jazz clubs and the occasional family get-together, he’d apologized for how he’d treated her. He promised he was no longer a man slut and hoped they could move past that. And while she’d forgiven him, she’d turned down his offer of a date a month later. Years after that, as the hurt wore off, she accepted him into her band. Ever since, he’d been her number one protector, big brother, and friend all rolled into one.
“Zoe,” Jordan prompted, “I said is he bothering you?”
“No. I think I’m bothering him.”
“How so?” he asked, deceptively calm.
“Fred ate his cell phone.”
He grinned, returning to his easygoing tone. “How did that happen?”
“We were having coffee—”
“Where?”
“Um, in his kitchen.”
“So you were in his kitchen in his house?”
“Yeah, and we were talking—”
“What were you doing in his house?” he demanded.
“I told you, we were having coffee.”
“Don’t get involved with your landlord again,” Jordan said. “My back can’t take two moves.”
“Ha-ha.”
“I’m serious.”
“I’m not getting involved. What do you think I am, an idiot?”
He took a lock of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers. “Of course not. You’re Zoe-bean the great.”
She laughed at the childhood nickname. “Jordy the Horn.”
He kissed her cheek. “What would I do without you?”
“You’d be bored and wandering around in a daze.”
He laughed. “You got that right. Come on, I’ll walk you to the train station. I don’t want you getting back too late.”
“All right, thanks.” She finished her drink and left, knowing Jordan had her back. Just like always.
~ ~ ~
Saturday morning was the big moving day. Zoe had her dad, Jordan, and her brother-in-law, Will, coming by to help. With three men, she’d be moved in no time flat. Her cell rang while she waited for them. It was her sister, Jasmine. She hoped Will wouldn’t be delayed.
; “Hey, Jaz,” she answered.
“You talk to Will and not me? Now I know something’s up. How well do you know Gabe? What’s the deal?”
“He’s helping me out, he’s a good tipper, and he eats at Garner’s.” He was also a shark lawyer apparently, but she didn’t think the shark part would go over big with Jaz. And he may or may not have dumped his terminally ill fiancée who then died. Gabe’s life was starting to sound like a tragedy. First his dad died and then a few days later, his fiancée. Even if it was true and he had dumped her after hearing she was ill, she still felt kind of sorry for him. The guilt must eat away at his soul.
Jaz’s voice came through the phone loud and mouthy as usual. “Oh, well, if he eats at the restaurant that everyone else in town eats at all the time, he must be okay.”
Zoe sighed noisily. “Daze says he’s good friends with Shane. You know he’s okay, then, by association.”
“Hmmm…have you heard the gossip about him?”
“I don’t listen to gossip.”
“Good. Just ask him yourself if you’re worried. Are you worried?”
A little. “No, I’m not worried. I’m renting his apartment not marrying him.”
“Do you think he’s cute?”
“Jaz! Nothing’s going on! He just happens to have an apartment, and I just happen to be getting evicted from my apartment on account of Fred.”
“Your landlord is a sleaze.”
“I know it.” Of course she knew that now. At first John had been so uber-supportive of her singing career, cheering her on, going to all her gigs in the city. But it was all fake. He just wanted the free drinks and entertainment from being her invited guest (as he’d informed her when she’d caught him kissing another woman at the bar).
“Don’t sleep with your new landlord,” Jaz said. “You’ll screw things up for Fred again.”
“I’m not going to sleep with Gabe!” First Daze, then Jordan, and now Jaz acted like she had no control whatsoever. Geez, it wasn’t like she slept around. “I told you I just need a place. It’s not even in his house! It’s above the garage!”
“Okay, calm down. Is it nice?”
“Yes.” Fred bumped his hip against her leg, asking for a hip rub. She obliged, and he wiggled happily. “It has a yard for Fred too.”
“All right. Will’s on his way.” She heard a noise like they kissed.
“Were you holding Will hostage until you could butt into my life?” Zoe asked.
Jaz laughed heartily. “Good one. Just remember, don’t get naked.”
“Whatever!” Zoe exclaimed.
Jaz laughed again; then baby Ella let out a wail. “She’s up. Gotta go! Love you!”
Zoe gritted her teeth. “Love you too. Bye.”
A short while later, her stuff was loaded into the van the band used to move equipment and unloaded over at Gabe’s place. She only had room for the bed, dresser, nightstand, small coffee table, and sofa. That was fine. It would be cozy. Besides, it was only for a month, maybe two if the gig with Hep Six worked out.
Gabe had come out to help too. After everything had been moved in, the men in her life felt it necessary to give Gabe the third degree.
“You single?” her dad boomed in his deep don’t-mess-with-my-daughter voice. He’d scared off plenty of teenaged boys in high school that way.
“Yes, sir,” Gabe replied in a voice that at once showed respect and an understated strength. She melted a little. She liked strength.
Her dad grunted.
“Zoe’s off-limits,” Jordan said. “Keep the landlord-tenant relationship professional.” He gave Zoe a sideways look.
“I wouldn’t say professional adequately describes Zoe living in my studio apartment,” Gabe said. “It’s more of a casual arrangement.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jordan said, getting all huffy and in Gabe’s face. He was taller than Gabe and bulkier, but Gabe didn’t back down.
Gabe spoke in an even, controlled voice. “It means exactly what I said.”
She was about to tell Jordan to knock it off when Will cleared his throat. “Zoe is like a sister to me,” he said in a voice that sounded almost rehearsed. Had Jaz coached him? “So, you know, er, hands off.”
The three men stared at Gabe. He took them all in, his gaze lingering on her, before turning back to the men and saying in an authoritative lawyerly voice, “Your case has been heard. I am innocent until proven guilty.”
Jordan made a growling noise and lurched toward Gabe. Her dad held him back with a solid hand slapping down on Jordan’s shoulder.
“Calm down, son,” her dad said. He always had seen Jordan as the son he never had.
Jordan huffed and continued glaring at Gabe.
“I’ll go get Fred!” Zoe said brightly, leaving the men to their standoff at noon.
Chapter Six
Later that afternoon when Zoe returned from grocery shopping, she found the kitchen sink still filled with water from when she’d washed out the few cabinets. She stared at it. The slow drain appeared to be stuck. She put the groceries away and contemplated what to do. Well, she had a landlord, right? She’d tell Gabe. She let Fred out into the backyard and headed around to the front door of his house.
Gabe answered the door, looking neat and preppy as always in a button-down shirt and jeans with loafers.
“Hey,” he said warmly. “Come on in. No Fred?”
“He’s romping around your backyard, eating snow. I just stopped by to let you know the kitchen sink is clogged. The water won’t drain at all, so I don’t know if we need a plumber or one of those plungers or maybe Drano? I didn’t want to do the wrong thing, so I came to tell you.”
“Let me take a look.” He followed her back to her place, stopped in front of the sink, and stared. “Yup. It’s clogged.”
“Did you think I made that up to lure you to my place?” she asked.
“Wouldn’t take much to get me here,” he replied, sparing her a quick glance. She rocked back on her heels, the apartment suddenly feeling a lot smaller. He stuck his hand in the water and fiddled with the drain. Nothing happened. “I’ll call a plumber.”
“Wait! Plumbers are more expensive on the weekend.”
“You can’t live like this,” Gabe said. “How are you supposed to cook or wash your dishes?”
“I’ll be okay. Monday’s fine.”
He shook his head, washed his hands, and called anyway. He finished the call and turned to her. “Plumber will be here by five. You can have dinner at my place tonight. Okay?”
She swallowed. “You want me to pick up something or…”
“No problem.” He gave her a slow, sexy smile. The shark was back. “I’ll take care of everything.”
“Okay, um, thanks.”
Gabe nodded once and left. She sank on shaky legs to the sofa. This would just be a friendly dinner. Two neighbors getting together eating food. No big.
~ ~ ~
Gabe went a little nuts getting ready for dinner that night. This was his big chance. Zoe was coming over, just the two of them, and he was going to make it special. He put candles on the dining room table and ordered takeout because despite a top-of-the-line gourmet kitchen, he couldn’t cook. Shane was always giving him grief about his untouched kitchen. His mom had left her china and crystal in the dining room cabinet, so he put that out too. Nerves shot through him. Was it too much? Was he putting on a show here he couldn’t possibly live up to? Romantic dinner didn’t scream fling. But she had to eat, right? He’d promised her dinner.
He put the crystal goblets back in the cabinet.
Took the goblets out again.
He heard a truck pull up and peered out the front window. The plumber was here.
He snagged his coat and walked with the plumber, Sal, over to Zoe’s apartment, giving him a brief description of the problem.
Gabe knocked on her door. It swung open a moment later to a smiling Zoe. “Oh, good, you’re here,” she said.
Lust knocked him silly. “Plumber’s here,” he said, pointing out the obvious. Get a grip. Fred barked like crazy until the plumber gave him a pat; then he bumped against him happily. The plumber took off his coat and headed over to the sink. Zoe held Fred on a leash to hold him back.
“How’s it going?” Gabe asked. “You getting settled in?” He glanced around. She still had a lot of boxes stacked up against the wall.
“Yeah. I’ll unpack a little more tomorrow. I just wanted to get the necessities out.”
Sal popped his head out from under the sink. “Just a clog. Be done in a jif.”
Several minutes later, the plumber turned the water back on, and the sink drained perfectly. “There you go,” Sal said. “Bill will be in the mail.”
“Okay, thank you,” Gabe said.
Sal grabbed his coat and left. Zoe released Fred, who started jumping all over Gabe. “Sit,” Gabe commanded. Fred sat. He pet him lavishly as a reward.
“Do you still want me over for dinner?” Zoe asked. “I mean, I could cook here now.”
Gabe squatted down to pet Fred, not wanting Zoe to see just how much he wanted her there. “Absolutely. Is Fred smiling?”
Zoe laughed. “Yeah, they call keeshonds the smiling Dutchmen. They’re a Dutch dog, and they really do smile.”
Gabe looked at Fred’s big goofy smile and found himself smiling back. He stood. “Stop by in an hour.”
“You want some help?” she asked. “I could stop by now.”
“Nope. I got this.”
“Okay.” She wiggled her fingers. “See you in an hour.”
He showered, shaved, and dressed extra nice in suit pants and shirt, the kind he used to wear when he was a stressed-out lawyer. He applied cologne and inspected himself in the mirror. That was as good as it got.
The delivery guy arrived with takeout from a really good Italian restaurant in Eastman. He emptied the containers and put them in various pots and pans to give the impression he’d actually cooked. Women went crazy for a man who cooked. He splattered some marinara sauce on the stovetop to further the illusion.
Finally, he put on some slow jazz. She was, after all, a jazz singer, and lit the candles. He dimmed the lights and inspected the scene. Definitely romantic like a nice restaurant. That didn’t have to mean relationship, he reassured himself. That could just mean seduction. A few moments later, the doorbell rang, and his heart kicked up. It had been a long time since he’d been worked up over any woman. He felt like an awkward teenager on his first date.
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