Forever Instinct, The

by Delinsky, Barbara

  The following morning Patrick filed his statement of intent with the SEC. Ads appeared in the appropriate papers. Jointly signed letters were mailed to the stockholders, accompanied by phone calls to the major ones.

  Jordanna was busy. Between those calls conveying her personal endorsement of the agreement with the Houghton Group, and a refocus on the everyday workings of Willow Enterprises, her days were filled to brimming.

  As for her nights, they were filled with Patrick. He didn’t mention marriage again, but everything he did with, for and to her spoke of his love. Her own blossomed all the more fully, a warm lush feeling that brightened every aspect of her life, binding her to him more and more closely.

  They spent every possible minute together, either at home or out. On occasion, in a restaurant, at a party or show, they bumped into people who knew of that earlier link between them. There were comments it was to be expected. For the most part they were positive, offered on a kidding note. Even the small newspaper mention they received simply stated the fact that Jordanna was the former wife of Peter Kirkland, Patrick Clayes’s longtime rival. It seemed harmless enough, Jordanna thought. Until she received a call from Peter himself.

  “Well,” he began in his own inimitably arrogant way, “you’re making headlines this time, aren’t you, babe?”

  She was at the office, deeply involved in a meeting with her marketing vice-president, and was tempted to quickly put him off. But she sensed he had something to say. She knew she had things to say to him. And one phone call from Peter Kirkland was all she wanted to receive.

  “Hold on a minute, Peter.” She muffled the phone. “Fifteen minutes, Jill? This has to be taken care of now.”

  With a smile of understanding, the other woman left. Only when the door was firmly shut behind her did Jordanna remove her hand from the mouthpiece. “How are you, Peter?”

  “Surprised, if you want to know the truth. I guess I underestimated you, Jordanna. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

  “What are you talking about?” She had an idea, and didn’t like it. But she wanted him to say the words himself.

  He proceeded to do just that. “Revenge.” It wasn’t quite what she’d expected. Eyes wide, she listened as Peter ranted on. “Patrick Clayes. You’ve really done it, haven’t you? Not only are you letting him buy out the company, but you’re involved with him personally! I couldn’t believe it when Mac called.” Mac Heinsohn had been one of Peter’s closest playing buddies. Evidently they were still close. “He thought it was pretty funny. I don’t.”

  Jordanna had begun to simmer. “For your information, Patrick is not buying me out. His company is buying into Willow Enterprises. There’s a difference.”

  But Peter wasn’t listening. “You wanted to get back at me, didn’t you? Well, you’ve done it. How long have you been planning this little coup, Jordanna? Months? Years?”

  “If you’re as well informed as you claim to be, you’d know that none of this would be happening if Widener hadn’t attempted a hostile takeover. That was barely three weeks ago.”

  “But the two of you – Patrick and you – don’t tell me you’ve only been with him since then.”

  “We’re divorced, Peter. You and I. It seems to me that you shouldn’t be concerning yourself with my private life.”

  “When it affects mine, I’ll be as concerned as I want. Hell, Jordanna, I look like a fool.”

  “Because you couldn’t hold me? That’s your problem. You were only concerned with yourself. Even now. Nothing’s changed.”

  “What about you, sweetie? Has it ever occurred to you that Clayes gets his revenge too?” Jordanna couldn’t believe what he was saying. Her silence tipped Peter off. “God, you’re as naive as ever. Well, let me tell you. Clayes wouldn’t be doing any of this if it weren’t for me.”

  “That’s not true,” she argued, but her voice shook as did her limbs.

  “Come on,” Peter spat. “It’s too damn coincidental to be anything else. I have to hand it to the guy. He’s pretty clever. Sat around all these years waiting for the right moment. And it fell into his lap. He’s a smooth one. You’re probably head over heels in love with him. I remember how it was with us. You fell pretty quick then too.”

  Jordanna called on every bit of the self-control she possessed to keep her voice steady. “I think you’ve said enough, Peter.”

  “I don’t think so, babe. But then, you never were very good about listening to advice.”

  “From whom? You?” She couldn’t help herself. Her anger boiled over. “Let me tell you something, Peter Kirkland. You know nothing when it comes to human beings! You couldn’t see an honest emotion if it hit you in the face because you’re so damned convinced you have all the answers. Well, you were wrong about me ten years ago. My divorcing you was the smartest thing I ever did. Willow Enterprises gave me back the self-esteem you denied me. If you really want to think that I’ve built a relationship with Patrick out of revenge, go ahead. You always were self-centered enough to believe that everyone and everything revolved around you. And that goes for Patrick’s motives too. If you honestly want to believe he’s been waiting around all these years simply for a chance to get back at you, be my guest. But you know nothing, Peter. Patrick is a man. Football is behind him. He’s built a very successful life for himself, one that he wouldn’t jeopardize for cheap revenge any more than I would.”

  “So naive,” came the caustic retort.

  “Not naive,” she countered firmly. “Realistic. And by way of realistic advice, let me suggest that you simply tell your adoring audience that what your ex-wife does is her business, and her business alone.” She sat straighter. “I haven’t got time to hold your hand if your ego happens to be bruised. I’ve got work to do. Now, if you’ll excuse me–” Slamming down the phone, she severed the connection, then sat trembling in anger for the few minutes it took for her to regain her composure. When she lifted the receiver again, it was to buzz Leila.

  “Leila, that was my ex-husband. If he calls again, I’m unavailable. Understood?”

  THE DAMAGE HAD BEEN DONE. Jordanna was as furious at Peter for having suggested what he had as she was at herself for having listened to him. For, much as she tried to categorically deny his allegations, she couldn’t totally erase them from her mind.

  That night, when she appeared somehow withdrawn, Patrick questioned her.

  “What is it, angel? Something’s bothering you.”

  She forced a smile. “Oh, nothing. Just tired, I guess. Things must be getting to me.”

  “But everything’s going well. Widener’s going to be selling back its stocks. You’ve nothing to fear from them anymore.”

  But from you? she wanted to ask, but didn’t. She knew she should come right out and tell him about Peter’s call. Somehow she couldn’t. She was embarrassed. Patrick would think she didn’t trust him at all. She was frightened. What if some of what Peter had said was true?

  They didn’t make love that night. Patrick simply held her in his arms until, at last, she fell asleep. Long after, he lay worrying, fearing that it was the intensity of their relationship that was getting to her. He thought about cooling it for a while, but he couldn’t. He needed to see her, to speak with her, to be with her. As it was, he was exercising the greatest control in not pestering her about marriage. More than anything in the world, he wanted her to be his wife. With each day, the need grew. And it was never more dire than at times like this when he realized just how unattached she truly was.

  THEN CAME THE DAY, nearly a month after the agreement with the Houghton Group had been formalized, when Jordanna had to go to St. Louis. She’d put the trip off twice, just as Patrick had limited himself to day trips so that they might have the nights to themselves and each other. But she couldn’t delay it longer. Her plant manager was resigning and his replacement had to be interviewed and approved. When hiring was done at such an important level, Jordanna had always reserved the final judgment for herself after her per
sonnel department had narrowed the field to the three top contenders. This time, given the fact that she’d have to be away from Patrick for two nights, her heart wasn’t in it. But her mind was. Particularly in light of the recent changes in the ownership of Willow Enterprises, she knew that this was no time to abdicate her responsibility. As a show of command, if nothing more, she had to go.

  The parting was difficult for Jordanna, enlightening in its way. Patrick accompanied her to the airport for the early-morning flight.

  “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” he asked, hands firmly gripping the lapels of her coat as they stood by the boarding gate.

  “I’ll be fine. I’ve done this many times before.”

  “I know, but still… .” He cast a worried glance through the sheets of glass. “It looks like it might snow. They’re predicting it.”

  She laughed softly. “By the time it comes, I’ll be up there above it all. You’re the one who’ll be stuck with it.”

  “I wish you’d let me come.”

  They’d discussed this before. “You’ve got your own work to do, Pat. And I’ve got to let our people down there know that I’m still firmly in control. No, it’s better that I go alone.” Her voice cracked. “Though I will miss you.”

  Enfolding her in his arms, Patrick held her tightly. “I’ll miss you too, angel. You’ll call when you’re free?”

  “Every night.”

  Boarding began. While the other passengers flowed by, he held her silently. When they could put it off no longer, he kissed her. “I love you, Jordanna.”

  She buried her face against his neck, breathing deeply of him for a final time. “I love you too.”

  “Will you…?” His voice trailed off with indecision.

  “Will I what?”

  Unable to stop himself, he went ahead. “Will you think about us while you’re there?” The slight emphasis he put on the us left no doubt in Jordanna’s mind what he referred to.

  “I will,” she whispered

  “And you’ll behave?”

  “I will.” Reaching up, she kissed him once more. Then, fearful she might lose her composure altogether, she quickly hoisted her shoulder bag and headed for the door.

  Patrick watched, feeling helpless and empty as she walked away from him. Her departure was a harsh reminder of precisely how much she meant to him. She was his light. Without her his world was dark and lonely.

  AS PROMISED, Jordanna called him that night. She told him about the flight, which had been smooth, and about the interviews she’d had with two of the three finalists that afternoon at the plant. These had been more perplexing. Something was missing in each of the two men she’d interviewed. She couldn’t put her finger on it. Intuition, she told Pat. He simply chuckled when she tried to apologize and told her that her intuition was very definitely something to be trusted. Hadn’t it gotten her this far in life, he asked. She wondered.

  The third interview was scheduled for the following morning, after which she had meetings scheduled with various of the plant personnel and the decision on the manager to make. On the third morning, she would have a meeting with the chosen one. In her briefcase she carried detailed reports on each of the candidates; these she reviewed time and again.

  From the moment she sat down with the third candidate, she knew what her decision would be. She also knew what had been missing in the other two men. A plant manager, her plant manager, had to be ultrasensitive to people. This third man had called half an hour before he was due to come, saying that there was an emergency at the plant he was presently managing and that he might be several minutes late. He wasn’t. But he explained his call. One of his workers had collapsed on the job. He’d wanted to be sure that the woman was taken to the right hospital, that she was given immediate attention by the best doctor and that her family was gently notified and on their way.

  Jordanna hired him on the spot. Intuition, she told herself, not to mention the fact that his qualifications had been impeccable, his references superb. Or was it simply that, with the decision made and the congratulatory meeting held there and then, she was free to fly back to New York that night?

  She didn’t stop to analyze her motives, but pushed herself headlong into the afternoon’s meetings. She was tired but enthusiastic when she called Pat to tell him of her change in plans. He was delighted. There was no way he could have fabricated his pleasure, she told herself, even if he had had reason to do so. If, as Peter had so callously suggested, he had sought her and her business out of revenge, by rights Patrick would have been looking forward to this break from her. But she believed him when he said he loved her, when he said he missed her, when he said he’d be there at the airport to meet her at whatever time the plane touched down.

  In a state of immense satisfaction, she took a cab to the airport. Several of the plant personnel had offered to drive her, but she’d wanted the time alone. Nothing, no one, should intrude on her thoughts of Patrick, she decided. She was going home.

  The plane was filled. She’d been fortunate to get a last-minute seat. Buckling herself in, she put her head back and took a deep breath, then awaited the takeoff. It went without a hitch, right on time, smooth and, for Jordanna, with promise.

  St. Louis was no more than an hour behind when that promise was shattered by the quiet announcement from the captain.

  “Ladies and gentlemen.” He cleared his throat. “I’m afraid we’ll be taking a slight detour. There’s a gentleman here in the cockpit with us who insists on being taken elsewhere. He may be armed.” There was a break before his voice returned more tensely. “He is armed but wants no harm to come to any of us. On his behalf, I ask you to remain calm. I’ll keep you informed of our flight plan once it is determined.”

  Jordanna sat in her seat as a wave of disbelief, then fear, swept the large cabin. Hijack. The word was a murmur, bouncing in a wave from one row of seats to another. Flight attendants moved deftly up and down the aisles, their pale faces in contrast to the smooth words of assurance they delivered on cue.

  Hijack. It seemed unreal. But then, so had takeover been, and she’d seen the end results of that. A slow trembling started deep within Jordanna, seeping steadily through her limbs until she had to grasp the upholstered arms on either side for support.

  Hijack? Was it possible? After everything she’d been through during the past few months, it couldn’t be! She looked frantically from side to side but found nothing reassuring in the faces around her. Those too were pale and searching hers for the answers none of them had.

  “This is too much,” the man on her left muttered. “I’ve been flying for thirty years and nothing like this has ever happened. I mean, I’ve had engines go dead. I’ve had lightning all but strike the plane. But… a hijacking?”

  “The worst that’s ever happened to me,” ventured the younger man on Jordanna’s right, “was to lose my luggage. It went to Greece while I went to California. I had to go out and buy new clothes. My bags made it two days later.”

  Eyes straight ahead and dazed, Jordanna heard herself join the conversation. “I was supposed to fly home tomorrow. This was a last-minute change of plans. I wanted to be back. I thought–” She stopped talking when a lump formed in her throat. Sensing the state of her emotions, the man on her left patted her hand in a fatherly fashion. In other circumstances, she might have thought it condescending – the little lady needing comfort. But she did need comfort. And she appreciated the gesture.

  “How can this kind of thing happen?” the man on her right demanded of no one in particular. “My God, with all the security precautions at airports you’d think they’d be able to prevent it. Everything goes through X-rays. How could some kook walk up there and say he’s armed?”

  “Maybe he’s bluffing,” the man on her left conjectured. “They’re probably trying to find that out now.”

  “Either that, or they’re trying to talk him out of it,” Jordanna offered, trying to gather her wits and assess the situation in whatever sm
all manner she could. It was hard. Her stomach was in knots and her thoughts kept wandering, mostly toward New York where Patrick would soon be waiting. Incredulous still, she shook her head. “Where do you think he wants to go?”

  “Cuba?” suggested the man on her right. In vague macho fashion, he was wearing jeans and a Western-style shirt. Jordanna thought him to be in his midtwenties and prayed that he – or any other of the passengers – wouldn’t be so foolish as to try to storm the cockpit.

  “Maybe the Middle East,” suggested the man on her left. “If we land in a country we have no extradition treaty with, a hijacker would be safe.”

  Jordanna looked over at him. Perhaps in his early fifties, he wore a business suit and might have seemed perfectly calm except for the sweat that dotted his forehead. When he met her gaze, she gave him a worried smile and looked down. Again he patted her hand. Again she welcomed the kind gesture.

  Very slowly, the shock aboard the craft gave way to a thick, quiet tension. What conversation there was was muted. All ears were attuned to the moment the captain’s voice would return. The flight attendants came through bearing drinks, explaining that dinner would be served later. It went without saying that the food provisions might have to be stretched somewhat, depending on their final destination.

  It seemed an eternity before the captain came back on the loudspeaker. His voice was low, obviously strained. A ripple of apprehension passed through the cabin. All other noise ceased.

  “This is your captain speaking. I’ve just been given clearance to head for Philadelphia, where we’ll be stopping briefly to refuel. If there are any medical conditions that need special attention, please notify one of the flight attendants now. Once we leave Philadelphia, we’ll be heading for Benghazi.”

  With a curt click, the speaker went dead. In its wake, silence reigned, but only long enough for the passengers to absorb this new bit of information.

  “Benghazi?” the man on Jordanna’s right echoed. “Where in the hell is that?”