Lost Distinction (Jordan James, PI Series)

by Rachel Sharpe

  “How are you feeling?” I asked as we forced our way through the crowd. We stopped at one of the large white tables with a colorful, floral bouquet in the center and sat down.

  “I feel amazing.” She beamed, touching her stomach gently. “How are you? How’s your arm?”

  In my black strapless dress, the scar on my arm was very noticeable. I shrugged. “It’s all right. I go to physical therapy once a week and my therapist says I’ll be good as new by the spring.”

  She grinned and squeezed my hand affectionately. “Good.” Glancing around, she shook her head in disbelief. “It’s hard to believe Stuart defeated an incumbent with sixty-five percent of the vote.”

  “People are looking for a change and they want a leader who can deliver,” I said. “Stuart has done well as a representative, hasn’t he?”

  “Oh, yes.” She leaned closer, adding, “I’m sure it has nothing at all to do with the Cross name.” When I didn’t reply, she smiled again. “I’m only half-serious. I’m just glad it’s over so I can have my Eddie back. My morning sickness seems to be hitting me at night and I’ve missed him when he was gone, working on the campaign.”

  “So, with Stuart’s house seat open, is Edward going to—”

  “Announce he’s running tonight?” She finished my sentiment. When I nodded, she shook her head and smiled. “No, Eddie isn’t going to run.”

  “But I thought that was part of the plan.”

  “It was part of his plan.” She motioned toward the ambassador, who stood beside his eldest son on stage, beaming. “It wasn’t part of ours. Things have been different since Arthur came back. Things have been better. Eddie told his dad that he liked being a judge and didn’t want to run for Congress. Don’t get me wrong. Gatlin wasn’t thrilled when Eddie told him, but he didn’t push like I thought he would. Maybe it’s because we’re pregnant or maybe it’s because of . . . Arthur!”

  I turned and saw Arthur dressed in a gray suit and sky-blue tie, hobble over to our table on crutches. Since that fateful night in London, Arthur had undergone two surgeries. Rick had said his cousin’s doctor believed that, with extensive therapy, he would be able to walk again.

  Arthur grinned as he met Michelle’s gaze. “How’s my favorite sister-in-law?” he asked as she stood up to kiss his cheek.

  “A little tired,” she admitted, cradling her stomach gingerly. “You know, I’m only three months, but I swear it looks like I’m five. Why do Crosses have to be such large people?”

  Arthur laughed. “Don’t blame me,” he insisted. “That’s Ed’s fault.”

  “What’s my fault?” Edward appeared, smoothing his black tie and glancing around for answers. Arthur grinned as he nodded at Michelle’s stomach. A proud smile crossed Edward’s lips as he put his arms around his wife. The chemistry between them was so intense that when their eyes met, it was as if there was no one else around.

  Finally, Edward added, “I’ll definitely take responsibility for this. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to take my lovely wife for a spin around the dance floor. Stuart finally relinquished that stupid microphone.”

  We all laughed as Edward escorted Michelle toward the floor. Arthur turned to me. “You know, this is a nice song. Would you like to dance with the guy whose students refer to him as Professor Limpy?”

  “I’d love to, but, are you sure that’s a good idea?” I looked down at his crutches.

  He leaned them against the table and lifted his pants leg. A strange, sleek contraption was secured to his leg and he moved it for emphasis. “I can do all right.”

  Taking his arm, I said, “Then it would be my pleasure, Professor.”

  Using me for balance, he slowly led the way to the dance floor. The large crowd of supporters had dissipated. Many mingled with each other as they were served their dinners. A few decided to dance the night away. A charming singer with the looks of Nat King Cole and the voice of Frank Sinatra softly crooned a love song. Arthur groaned as he adjusted his leg, but once we began to sway slowly, he appeared to be enjoying himself.

  “So how’s your arm?” he asked, glancing down at the scar.

  I rolled my shoulder back slowly. “It’s getting there. A little stiff, but much better than it was this summer.”

  His large right hand gripped my left and he sighed. “I’m so sorry about what happened.”

  I stared in his face until his big green eyes reluctantly met mine. “You didn’t shoot me so there’s no need to apologize. Besides, you’re dealing with a much worse injury.”

  “I deserve it. I was an idiot. But you,” he trailed off. “You flew across the world to help me and got shot for your effort.”

  “It’s not a big deal. That wasn’t the first time a loaded gun was aimed at me. How’s everything else?”

  “You mean everything?” He glanced over at the group surrounding the ambassador and Stuart. He nodded. “It’s better. My father and I finally had the talk we should’ve had ten years ago. I just wish things could’ve been better for Frankie.”

  “Frankie?”

  “I mean Francine. Her nickname was Frankie. She was so full of life. I mean, even after what happened, she stayed positive. I never knew how much pain she had inside her. I wish I could’ve been there for her.”

  “Arthur, listen to me. What happened to Francine was an accident. People do stupid things when they’re young. Most of the time, the consequences are minor. Sometimes they’re not. The important thing is that you’ve learned from your mistake and you’ve made a sincere effort to make amends.”

  He stared at the ground, shaking his head. “I haven’t done as much as I could have. Because of me, Mr. and Mrs. Harris have lost both their children. Frankie is gone and Oliver’s in an institution.”

  “An institution? What about his crimes?”

  Arthur shifted his weight as we danced in a small circle. “I insisted a lunacy hearing be held for him. Oliver wasn’t in his right mind when he kidnapped me or shot us. He’s deeply troubled and I’m to blame for it.”

  “Well, I don’t know if I agree with you on that.” I paused, thinking about Henry. “But your actions are admirable.”

  As soon as the words left my lips, an awkward silence fell between us. Swaying with him slowly, I studied Arthur. Something had definitely changed in him since that fateful night. While I, technically, found him, it appeared that Arthur had found himself, too. I couldn’t imagine the pressure of being raised in a family with as much power, and distinction, as the Cross family. Getting lost would be easy. I only hoped that like Arthur and Edward, his other siblings would be able to rise above the Cross name and become, by their own merit, the people their father so desperately tried to make them.

  “I always knew you had a soft spot for intellectuals.”

  We both turned. Rick stood beside us, a slight smile on his face. His brown hair was slicked back and he was wearing a double-breasted navy-blue suit. We stopped dancing and after shifting his weight again, Arthur reached out and shook Rick’s hand. “I’m glad you were able to make it. Do you mind grabbing my crutches?”

  Rick walked over to the table and retrieved the crutches while Arthur continued to use me for support. As soon as he handed him the crutches, Arthur backed up to face us both.

  Rick turned to me and smiled. “You look amazing.”

  “Thanks,” I blushed. “What happened? I thought you would be here earlier.”

  Rick smoothed his lapels. “I intended to be. I got caught in a late-night meeting with my boss. He had some important business to discuss with me.”

  “What kind of business?”

  Rick glanced at Arthur.

  Nodding, Arthur replied, “This is my cue to leave. Thank you for the dance. It was a pleasure seeing you tonight, Jordan. I hope to see you again soon.”

 
“The pleasure was all mine,” I replied as he shook Rick’s hand and hobbled off toward the crowd surrounding James. I looked up at Rick. “So what kind of business?”

  The singer began belting out “Just the Way You Look Tonight” and Rick extended his hand, a slight smile on his lips. “May I?”

  I tried to suppress a grin as I accepted it. He led me to the center of the floor. We danced in silence for several moments. When I realized he was not going to say anything, I pressed, “Are you gonna tell me what happened?”

  He swallowed hard and avoided eye contact as he twirled me. Finally, he replied, “My boss wants me to open a new branch of our firm and oversee everything until we find the proper people to manage it.”

  “That’s awesome!” The look in his eyes quickly told me this was not a wonderful offer. Tentatively, I asked, “Where’s the new branch?”

  Taking a deep breath, he dipped me. Pulling me up, he replied, “London.”

  “With each word your tenderness grows tearing my fears apart.” The singer grinned, snapping his fingers to the beat.

  I felt my heart rate increase. “What? London? Why?”

  He spun me out and pulled me in quickly. “He was thrilled to learn that I’d spent time there and felt I would be perfect to oversee everything.”

  “How long would you be gone?” I pulled away, refusing to continue dancing.

  He tugged on his collar and cleared his throat. “I’m not sure. Maybe a year.”

  I walked off the floor, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. I hurried past the laughing crowds to the double-doors at the far end of the room and raced onto the terrace. A wicked chill accosted me as the wind enveloped my bare arms. I stopped beside a patio table with a colorful-mosaic top and sat down on the chair beside it, clutching my arms and staring at the ground.

  Moments later, Rick ran outside. He took off his jacket and placed it across my shoulders. Kneeling beside me, he insisted, “I had no idea, Jordan. He just asked me tonight. Are you angry?”

  “No,” I sighed, gripping the jacket and standing up. The wind whipped up again, causing my hair to take flight as I crossed the terrace. A sweet melody floated outside as I stared up at the crescent-shaped moon. Suddenly, I felt him beside me. Without looking, I insisted, “I’m not angry. I’m really happy for you.”

  “You don’t sound happy. I could refuse it, but this may be my best chance for advancement.” He paused. Touching my arms, he pleaded, “What do you think?”

  I turned around and stared up into his eyes. Before me stood the only man I had ever truly loved and he was asking me to make a decision that would not only affect our lives together, but would also change the entire course of his. Rick Michaels was giving me the chance to decide his future and I found myself having selfish thoughts.

  “You need to take it,” I sighed. I saw relief wash over his face as I spoke these words. Running my fingers through my hair, I added, “I guess we’ll just try the long-distance thing.”

  A confused expression crossed his face. “Long distance? Jordan, I was hoping you would go with me.”

  Again, I felt as if I couldn’t breathe, despite the frigid air surrounding us. “Go with you?”

  He scratched his jaw and crossed his arms nervously. “Well, yeah.”

  “How could I go with you? My career is here.”

  He nodded. “Well, yeah, but you could investigate anywhere.”

  I felt myself growing angry despite the sorrow welling inside. “That’s probably true, but this is where I want to be. I love Boston. This is my home.”

  “But why is it your home? Your family is in Louisiana and your best friend is in L.A.,” he pressed. “I don’t like the idea of us being apart.”

  “Well, neither do I, but I’m not the one talking about moving.” I stopped and took a deep breath to compose myself. “Look, let’s not do this right now. Tonight is a night to celebrate. Your cousin’s a senator. Michelle’s pregnant, and you’re getting a promotion. We still have some time to discuss this. I’m sure we can make this work for a year.”

  “There’s not as much time as you may think. I’m leaving at the end of next week.”

  My heart dropped and I sat in a nearby chair for support. “Next week? Are you serious? Next week? Thanksgiving is in two weeks! You said you’d go to Louisiana with me.”

  He walked up beside me, opening his arms, and then he stopped. “Jordan, I’m sorry. This literally just happened. I don’t know what to tell you. I think this would be a good move for us.”

  When he tried to embrace me, I held up my hand and pressed it against his strong chest, holding him back. “First of all, you said it’s for a year, right?”

  He chewed his lower lip. “It’s for a year unless I want to stay indefinitely.”

  “All right, let’s say it’s just a year then. How would this be a good move for us?” I paused. “Please don’t take this the wrong way. I love you, but you’re my boyfriend, not my husband. This would be a good career move for you. It could destroy mine.”

  I saw the color leave his face. He shoved his hands in his pockets and sat down on a bench along the terrace wall. He sat there in silence, staring at the ground. I felt immense guilt at my curt remarks and slowly walked over to the bench and sat beside him.

  As we sat there, an older couple walked outside. They glanced at us before hurrying over to the other side of the terrace to enjoy their champagne and the clear night air. I knew that I should say something, but I didn’t know what to say. I felt as if there was an invisible wall keeping us apart and it was an overwhelming feeling.

  Rick was the one to break the silence with a statement that sent me reeling. “Jordan, I’m sorry to put you in this position. I know it’s a lot to ask of anyone, especially since it’s such short notice.”

  He paused, waiting for me to say something, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. Sighing, he continued.

  “I meant what I said. You started your firm from nothing and look where you are now! I know you could do the same anywhere if you put your mind to it. And I also meant that I think this would be a good move for us because I see us as a couple always. I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

  I thought about his words. He was suggesting my firm was no different than an online crafts business that could be managed anywhere. It took me years to get to where I was and I had still barely scratched the surface. I couldn’t decide if his suggestion was supportive or insulting.

  He stood up and when he took his hands from his pocket, I noticed a small black box in his left hand. “The meeting isn’t the only reason I was late,” he stammered. His hand shook as he opened the box to reveal an elegant, princess-cut diamond ring. He knelt down beside me. “Jordan, I love you. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

  I stared at the ring. It sparkled as the moonbeams danced across the large diamond. I was so startled that I couldn’t think. It wasn’t the size of the stone that took my breath away or the large sum of money it must have cost Rick. It was what it represented. An everlasting commitment. A new life. An unbreakable vow…

  “I need to sit down,” I managed to mutter, refusing to take my eyes off the ring.

  “You are sitting down.”

  “Right.”

  “I know this is a lot to ask,” he repeated, “but I also know you love me and this feels right. We belong together. Jordan, would you please do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  I glanced up at him, then back at the ring. “Well . . .”

  Also by Rachel Sharpe and Soul Mate Publishing:

  COLD AMBITION

  When Jordan James decided to embark on a career as a private investigator, she never could have imagined that a chance encounter would lead to her staring down the barrel of a gun on the roof’s edge of a
high-rise building. As she begins to investigate her first case, the puzzling murder of a prominent businessman that has left Boston’s finest mystified for more than two decades, she finds herself suddenly immersed in a treacherous underworld brimming with betrayal, raw greed, and political subterfuge of international proportions. In the midst of this, she discovers she is falling for her mysterious client despite the hints of his dark past. Can this feisty Southern girl with a penchant for trouble solve this baffling case, or is she doomed to become another tragic chapter in an international conspiracy?

  Available now on Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/nx256p9