by J. D. Mason
“That little stunt of yours was to punish me. Was that your intention?”
Robin thought about it and then responded. “It was to punish her.”
“She didn’t know about you and me.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Robin said, feeling emotionally drained and numb all of a sudden. “I know you, Jordan. I know how debonair and sensual and elegant you are. You’re charming and attentive, making sure that a woman feels like she’s the only woman in the world for you. Even if it’s not true.”
Jordan stared at her.
“I wanted her to know the real you and what you are capable of. I wanted to break her heart first, before you had a chance to.”
“But you didn’t,” he said calmly. “You failed.”
“I planted a seed. Trust me. You might think that you’ve mended what I’ve broken, but it’s still cracked. She has her doubts, and she always will because of what I said.”
There. A faint glimmer of satisfaction filled her chest. Robin had made her point in that steely facade of his. Finally. And now she was ready to drive it home.
“Who is Frank Ross to you?” she asked.
Jordan’s expression darkened, a sign that she was sailing into dangerous waters.
“I see a resemblance, subtle but distinct,” she said, studying him. “Doesn’t matter. He’s family, and you’re doing everything you can to see to it that he doesn’t go to prison over the murder of Lonnie Adebayo.”
Jordan stiffened at the mention of the woman’s name. “I have no idea what it is you think that you know, but I’m certain that it’s incorrect.”
“Is it?” she calmly asked. “Or is it enough to turn the DA’s attention away from Ross and to look at you?”
He gradually relaxed. “I have nothing to do Lonnie Adebayo’s murder if that’s what you’re hinting at,” he said confidently.
“Maybe not directly,” she surmised. “Indirectly, perhaps? In any event, news like that would certainly affect this new government contract award. Wouldn’t it? It could affect Gatewood Industries’ stock prices. Certainly, the scandal would no doubt be, at minimum, embarrassing and bad for business. And then there’s the issue of little Ms. Rhodes.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw as Jordan clenched, holding in his anger.
“Do you really think a wholesome little thing like that would stand by your side, trust in the love that you two have found in each other, maintain her loyalty to you, knowing full well that you may have very well murdered a woman?”
“You’re planning to what? Take your theory to the media? To the police? Good luck with that.”
“I don’t need luck. I know how the system works, Jordan. God knows I spent many years navigating it and manipulating it to my advantage before becoming a corporate attorney. I swear, I should’ve been a gardener.” She laughed. “Again, it goes back to planting seeds, the right ones in the right places at the right times yield the sweetest fruit.”
Robin suddenly had all the power now, and both of them knew it. He might have believed that he’d crushed her, but truly, he’d only made her stronger, reminded her of who and what she really was at the core. Robin was a warrior. She’d fought huge and impossible legal battles and had come out the winner time and time again. She was a master manipulator, like he was. She was a magician.
“As for what my plans are,” she said, pausing to take a sip of a very delicious martini, “I haven’t decided yet.”
“You have nothing but a theory, Robin, and before coming for me, the DA will need more than that.”
“But the media won’t. The feds won’t. Ms. Rhodes won’t.”
Robin had the advantage. Jordan was like a bug in her hands, and all she had to do to destroy him was clap them together. His life was hers now. She needed to figure out what her next move would be.
She studied his handsome features. “It’s too bad things had to turn out this way, Jordan,” she said sincerely. “You had the woman for you right under your nose the whole time. I’d have done anything for you.”
“Now, you’ll just do anything to me. Is that it?”
Robin took a long sip of her martini. “Thanks for the drink,” she said, standing to leave.
Robin waited until he finally stood up, too, and she smiled.
“I’ll be in touch, Jordan. I promise.”
She walked out of that restaurant feeling better than she had in weeks. Robin had reclaimed herself, her dignity, and her status. She was not some broken, rejected, discarded lover of a man who was too ignorant to recognize the value of a woman like her. Robin Sinclair was in control again, and Jordan Gatewood was a bug cringing helplessly underneath the toe of her shoe, wondering if she’d let him continue to survive or see him ruined.
No River Too Wide
THE PENTHOUSE ATOP GATEWOOD Industries’ corporate offices had always been a very personal sanctuary for Jordan. Even Claire had only been here a handful of times, claiming that the place seemed sterile and cold. Deep down, he’d always suspected that her description spoke better of their relationship than of this place.
The first thing Abby did when she walked into the place from the private elevator was to slip out of her shoes so as not to scuff the polished wooden floors. The thought had never occurred to him that his shoes might be a bad idea. She padded barefoot, staring up at the thirty-foot ceilings with a look of awe and disbelief in her eyes. As she walked, Abby turned slowly, noticing every detail, every piece of art and furniture. For the first time since he’d had it built, he cared what another person thought of this place.
Abby made her way past the living room and through the kitchen, stopping long enough to study the millwork of the custom cabinets and the fixtures. She made her way over to the floor-to-ceiling folding glass doors leading to the outside deck and saltwater pool. Abby marveled at the cedar underfoot and walked over to the outside railing and took in the view of the city.
Her mouth moved as she continued exploring, but whatever she was saying, she was saying it to herself. At best, Jordan could make out words like wow or whoa. Abby came back inside and lightly glided her fingers on the mahogany stair rail as she made her way up the stairs. Jordan quietly followed her. She gasped at the sight of his bedroom.
Abby stopped in the doorway. “That bed is bigger than my whole house,” she murmured.
Of course she was exaggerating, but perhaps not by much, he smiled, amused. Abby made her way into Jordan’s bathroom, a simple design of dark wood and soapstone, with an open shower with multiple showerheads, and next to that was his sauna. Abby walked over to the closed door on the other side of the room.
“Closet?” she asked, turning to him.
He shook his head. “The other bathroom.”
He’d gotten it built with Claire in mind. The other bathroom was meant for her.
“My goodness,” she said as she entered.
Of course, it wasn’t as masculine as his, but still, it was a simple design, with lighter cabinets and Italian marble. Eventually, she did manage to get to both closets. One, of course, was empty.
Abby stood inside Jordan’s room with her mouth open. “It’s all so beautiful, Jordan. Like living on top of the world. Literally.”
“Not quite,” he said quietly. “But close.”
* * *
They had dinner, made love, showered, and ended up back in bed with Abby facing and straddling him, wearing one of his shirts. He was enjoying every second of having her here, but the conversation he’d had a day ago with Robin was never far from the surface of his thoughts. Because of that conversation and its implications, Jordan was starting to feel as if he were on borrowed time with Abby.
She had pulled her hair back and braided it, showing off those eyes and cheekbones.
“So, do you have a speech written?”
Jordan had told Abby about his upcoming press conference about the contract he’d just won from the government.
He smiled. “Not yet, but I’m working on it.”
Jordan shook his head. “No. It’s just business as usual, Abby.”
“For you, it’s business as usual. I’d be so nervous I’d break out in hives.”
“I take it you’re not big on public speaking.”
She shook her head. “I got kicked out of speech class in tenth grade.”
“You were that bad?”
“My attitude was.” She shrugged. “But it didn’t matter. My speeches weren’t any better.”
Jordan wondered if Abby was aware of how much she had been toying with his hand. She seemed comfortable here with him. That revelation was a small victory for Jordan. Abby in Dallas. She’d made it clear that she was a small-town girl at heart and always would be.
“What are you thinking?” she smiled, leaning in close and planting a small peck on his lips.
“I’m thinking about how much I’m enjoying you being here.”
“This place is more like you than the ranch house,” she said. “That place, although very beautiful, doesn’t seem finished. It’s like it’s just convenient, a place for you to sleep when you’re there. But this penthouse … it’s all you. This is where I feel you’re most at home.”
“You’re right,” he admitted. “How comfortable are you in this place?”
“I’m comfortable with you,” she said without hesitating. “But I’m kind of afraid that I might break something.”
He laughed. “Then we would just have to replace it.”
We? Jordan hadn’t meant to say that, but he didn’t regret it. Abby didn’t seem to catch that slip, but the idea of her spending more time here was one he didn’t mind entertaining.
“What happens when you get this new division up and running, Jordan?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re going to be busier than usual.”
He nodded introspectively. “More than likely. Yes.”
She looked disappointed. “It’ll be harder for us to spend time together. I mean, even though we only live two hours apart, it’s still kind of a long-distance relationship.”
“We will make it work, Abby,” he said confidently.
God, he wanted it to work. Despite Robin’s threats and time and distance constraints, Jordan desperately needed for this relationship to work, now more than ever because now there was a threat looming over it, one that he wasn’t sure he could stop.
“Whatever happened with Robin?” Abby asked hesitantly. “Have you heard from her?”
Jordan paused. His first inclination was to lie, but that was a habit he wanted to avoid in this relationship. But there were things that he felt Abby was best left not knowing.
“I’ve spoken to her,” he reluctantly admitted. “She knows now to keep her distance from you.”
“It’s not like I’m scared of her. She’s taller than I am, but she’s skinny, so I know I could take her if it came down to it. Besides, she’d be too busy worrying about scruffing up her makeup to get down and dirty. I’ve got older brothers, so I know how to fight,” she said proudly.
Abby was serious, which he found amusing.
“It’s just that she’s reality television drama, and that’s the part I have a problem with.”
“I understand. I do too.”
“I mean, I get it. You broke her heart so she’s pissed,” she concluded. “But there’s no need to get messy. Know what I mean?”
“I know exactly what you mean.”
“I just really don’t want her to raise such a fuss that we end up in the tabloids or something.”
He laughed.
“I’m serious, Jordan. You’re a celebrity.”
“I’m a businessman, Abby.”
“Who happens to be a celebrity. You’re a major person, and your life is wide open for everybody to see.”
“Not all of it.”
“And I’d like to keep it that way.”
“You mean, our relationship?”
Abby nodded. “I don’t want to be chased down by the paparazzi.”
“You’re ashamed of me?” he asked teasingly.
Abby’s eyes grew wide. “Heavens, no! Of course not. How could you think that?”
Jordan cocked a brow. “That’s what it sounds like.”
In dramatic fashion, Abby wrapped both arms around him and held him tightly. “You know that’s not what I mean, Jordan.” She kissed his cheek, then his nose, forehead, and lips. “It’s just that I’m afraid that if a reporter asks me something, I could say the wrong thing. I’m not always tactful.”
He laughed. “You are…” Jordan sighed. “My goodness, Abby.” Jordan stared longingly into her eyes. “You have saved my life, baby. I don’t think you realize just how much.”
She stared expressionlessly at him. “Does that mean the press will never know about us?”
“No,” he said in all seriousness. “The moment the press finds out about you, they will hunt you down like a pack of wild dogs.”
Abby suddenly looked very worried. And she waited for him to deliver the punch line, to laugh or joke his way out of this. But Jordan didn’t. He couldn’t because it wasn’t a joke.
“But I’ll manage it,” he whispered, kissing her sweetly. “I will take care of you, if you get out of my way and let me.”
She thought about it for a few moments and then swallowed. “Promise?”
“With my whole heart, sugah.”
Jordan meant it. If by some miracle, this beautiful woman could become a permanent part of his life, he would take such good care of her. He’d be the kind of man to her that he had failed to be to Claire. He would give her his undivided attention and make sure that she knew how much she meant to him.
She took a deep breath and thought for a moment. “They say that television adds ten pounds to people. If the media does find out about us, we might end up on TV. Think I should lose a few pounds?”
“Don’t you dare,” he said kissing the tip of her nose.
My Heart Came to Life
FROM THE OUTSIDE, THIS placed looked like an old, abandoned warehouse. Inside, it was a dark maze of long hallways, concrete floors and walls, and thick metal doors. Jordan walked like he knew exactly where he was going, though, holding Abby by the hand and walking confidently as he pulled her behind him. This place reminded her of something out of The Maltese Falcon.
Finally, they made their way to the end of one long corridor, and Jordan tapped on the door using a hammer hanging on the wall next to it. The door opened, and Abby was hit with a burst of cool air and music so loud that the bass from it would’ve knocked her on her ass if Jordan hadn’t been standing in front of her. A tall, dark man with a brilliant white smile held the door open and ushered them inside.
Structurally, this place was a phenomenon to somebody like Abby. The expansive room had ceilings at least sixty feet high. There had to have been a few hundred people in that room, with spaces blacked out where windows should’ve been. Abby marveled at how something like this was actually designed and hidden so deeply into what amounted to a dump from the outside.
It took being in a place like this to witness the meaning of what it was to be a Jordan Gatewood. This was the second time he’d taken her out dancing, but that was a public nightclub. This one was private. As soon as he walked into that room, all eyes fell on him—them. People cleared a path for him, and someone immediately ushered the two of them to loft seating up a flight of stairs, enclosed behind a glass wall with a glass door to keep out most of the noise when it was closed. A bottle of some brand of vodka she couldn’t even pronounce appeared as if by magic, chilled and already being poured.
“Can we get you anything else, Mr. Gatewood?” the gorgeous server asked.
He shook his head. “No, this will do for now.”
While Abby was beyond impressed by the impeccable service the two of them were being provided, Jordan acted as if this sort of thing was expected. From their vantage point, Abby could
see everything, including all the people staring and pointing at the two of them. He, on the other hand, seemed absolutely oblivious to it. Jordan sat down on the elegant sofa and pulled her down next to him, then leaned over and kissed her softly and smiled.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked so abruptly and so out of character that Abby couldn’t help but laugh.
“I’d love to dance.”
Dancing for Jordan consisted of planting his feet and swaying that beautiful, muscular body of his from side to side, with Abby spinning and gyrating around him like a top. They laughed, drank, danced, and made out like teenagers perched high away from everyone else. And Abby forgot that he was overwhelming and that his life was too damn big for her. She forgot what her life had been like before he’d come into it. And the only thing that made sense now was that he would never leave it.
“I want to grow old with you,” she remembered saying, draping herself over him like a blanket. “I never thought I’d ever say that and mean it.”
Abby was so damn drunk, but it was good drunk.
“You say something like that to me, I’m holding you to it, dahlin’. I told you that you have saved my life, and I meant it. I am hoping that you will keep saving it.”
“I don’t know what I’ve done,” she said humbly. “I think it’s the other way around. I think you saved me,” she confessed.
“You are gorgeous,” he said warmly. “And funny and unique. Sweet. Sexy. You talk funny,” he said jokingly, “but your smile lights up my world, honey. So, yes. I appreciate the hell out of you.”
* * *
Hours later, Jordan slept soundly next to her. Abby had passed out for a bit, but then suddenly, she woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep. She eased out of bed, slipped into one of his shirts, and quietly crept to the door, down the hall, and then down the stairs. Abby would be heading back to Blink in the morning, but this weekend, she’d felt like a princess, wined and dined by this magnificent man who had fallen in love with her. Abby had to keep reminding herself that all of this was real, but for that to be the case, there had to have been a higher power at work here.