Spring Into Love

by Chantel Rhondeau

  “Not just a vacation,” Jordan said. “He seems to think I can just give up my life here and keep him company on movie sets, maybe even go back to California.” The idea of that still made her uneasy. “I’ve always known he wasn’t here forever, which is why I was reluctant to get involved in the first place. Now that we’re getting close to the time he has to leave, it’s suddenly a lot more real. I don’t want him to leave, but I’m not sure I can go with him.”

  “Oh.” Beth’s eyes narrowed in concern. “That’s rough. I’m sorry, Jordan.”

  “Me too. We still have a little time, though.” They’d either figure out a compromise, or she’d cherish the remaining time she had with him.

  ***

  Compromise. She wanted compromise. Jake thought he had everything figured out, but apparently he had a lot of work left to do if he wanted to persuade Jordan to go to Saint Lucia with him. At least she hadn’t run away from him last night. That was progress.

  With a slightly later set call than usual, and Jordan leaving for the office early, Jake ordered breakfast and called Greg. His agent had never steered him wrong in the past—okay, except maybe the zombie movie—and Jake figured Greg would be straight with him if he was on the brink of committing career suicide.

  “What’s up, Jakey?” Greg was way too cheerful in the morning. “Are you ready for beaches and bikinis? It won’t be much longer now.” He still sounded so pleased with himself for finding a movie that would film in the location he thought Jake wanted.

  Too bad it’s not really what I want anymore. Jake still couldn’t believe how fast the time in Grande Valley had passed or how much things had changed since he’d been there. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” Jake said, then held his breath, waiting for the agent to overreact.

  “Please don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts.” Greg predictably jumped to conclusions. “Because I don’t think you have a team of lawyers good enough to defend that breach of contract lawsuit.”

  Jake thought his lawyers were pretty good, but he’d be sued. They’d probably just give the role to Channing. Greg didn’t need to worry, though. Jake wasn’t ready to commit that level of career suicide. “Relax, Greg. I’m not going to bail on the movie. I’m looking forward to it, actually.” Especially if he wouldn’t be alone while he was there.

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “The other script you sent. It’s still early stages, right?”

  “Yep. Wouldn’t film ‘til next spring.”

  Good. He’d have some time off. “Anything else on the horizon?” Jake asked. “I mean, can I really stay in movies? I won’t have to go back to television?” Television required him to be in Los Angeles. Movies were flexible.

  “Not if I can help it.” Greg laughed before turning serious. “Look, Jake, I never say never because this business is fickle and cruel. You already know that firsthand. I can’t promise things won’t go bust for you, especially if one of the movies flops, but things look good. If Border Cowboys lives up to the hype, and there’s every reason to believe it will, then you should have your pick of projects.”

  That was the impression Jake got from Greg a few days ago, but he needed to be sure, especially if he was going to present ‘Plan B’ to Jordan. “That means I don’t have to be in L.A. full time, right? I mean, I know I’ll have to be there part of the time, but I figure a lot of the filming will be on location, anyway.” He’d been up most of the night watching Jordan sleep and thinking about a solution. “I don’t see any reason why I can’t make my home base somewhere else. Don’t lots of movie stars have homes in New Orleans or other places?”

  “So you want a house in the Garden District down the road from Sandra Bullock?” Greg asked, chuckling.

  “No. Not New Orleans. I was thinking more along the lines of Grande Valley, Texas.”

  ***

  Jordan watched the surveillance video with increasing queasiness. There was no mistaking what was happening on the tape. Three men in a blue truck traveled to a remote area of the county, right on the border with Mexico, and set up a water station, obviously in an attempt to offer aid to people who sought to enter the United States. One of the young men was definitely Trey Lozano. He’d vehemently protested his innocence when Jordan got him released from custody and maybe there was an explanation, but it was hard to imagine what it might be. The video was damning. Had she been wrong about Trey from the beginning?

  Jordan turned to Beth. “I assume you’ll be filing charges right away.”

  Her friend nodded. “As soon as I leave here. I wanted to give you the courtesy of telling you first.”

  Jordan knew it was a courtesy Beth wouldn’t extend to any other defense attorney in town and if anyone found out, the district attorney would have some explaining to do, especially in an election year. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “No, I wanted to.” Beth ejected the DVD from the player in Jordan’s conference room and returned it to her briefcase. “There’s something else you should know.”

  Jordan was suddenly glad she hadn’t eaten breakfast because she didn’t know if it would stay in her stomach. “More great news?” she asked sarcastically.

  “Something like that.” Beth hesitated. “The case has been assigned to Judge Benson. There’s a lot of outcry over this kind of activity, and I think he sees it as a good campaign issue, especially given his current status in the polls. Word is he personally lobbied the chief judge for the assignment and he wants the earliest trial date possible.”

  “Of course.” Jordan suddenly found Texas politics more distasteful than the Hollywood kind. She stood up. “I guess I better get to work.”

  “I’ll leave you alone, then,” Beth said. “I want to ask you something, though. Why is this case so important to you? Why do you care about this kid so much?”

  It was a question she’d been asked before, and Jordan never had an easy answer. “I’m not sure. I just find myself drawn to Trey and his situation,” she said after a minute. “His mom is dying and he’s trying to do everything he can to help her. That’s something I can relate to, because there was a time when everything I did was to help my mom.”

  “With one big difference. You never resorted to breaking the law.”

  “Hey, I never said I approved of Trey’s means.” Jordan choked back a laugh. “I’ve never stopped wondering if there was more I could have done for my mother. Legally, of course.”

  “She had Alzheimer’s,” Beth said quietly. “There’s nothing you could have done to save her.”

  Jordan nodded. “Realistically, I know that. It still hurts, though.” She blinked back tears. “All I ever wanted was to make her proud of me.”

  “You have, Jordan.” Beth placed a hand on her shoulder. “She is proud of you, and she’d want you to be happy. It’s okay to let yourself be happy.”

  Chapter 27

  Jake stood waiting in front of the same church Jordan brought him to on his first night in Grande Valley. That night, her sole purpose seemed to be to construct as many walls around her as she could to avoid letting him in. Slowly, he’d managed to chip away at those walls, but there was still work to be done. He needed to convince Jordan to take a chance on their relationship once the movie shoot wrapped and he had to leave Texas. He wanted to convince her to take a chance on forever.

  Carl stepped out of a small blue sports car, and Jake braced himself for a potential confrontation. Instead, the other man offered a friendly wave as he approached. “I assume you’re here for support,” he said.

  “You assume correctly. Jordan doesn’t know I’m coming, though.” Jake hadn’t talked to her all day, but he knew this was her regular meeting day, and now more than ever she wouldn’t miss it.

  “She’ll be glad to see you,” Carl said in a way that made Jake wonder if Jordan had spoken to Carl during the course of the day.

  He tried not to let it get to him. Jordan had assured Jake—in more ways than one—t
hat he shouldn’t be jealous of Carl, and Carl was likely to remain a fixture in Jordan’s life. They’d have to learn how to coexist.

  “Since you’re here, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” Carl said somewhat cautiously. “I’m not trying to interfere, so feel free to tell me to shut up, but I care about Jordan and—”

  “I know you do,” Jake said. “Since she’s special enough to have more than one person care about her, I hope we can find a way to get along. What’s on your mind?”

  “I believe Jordan’s mentioned a little about my marriage?”

  “Not much,” Jake hedged, not being entirely comfortable discussing another man’s failed marriage. “Just that your wife didn’t really understand everything about your recovery.”

  “Or rather anything about it.” Carl let out a sardonic laugh. “There are support groups for spouses and partners of recovering alcoholics,” he said. “For years, I tried to convince Maggie to look into one of them, maybe go to a meeting. I thought it might help her and help us. She wanted nothing to do with it. I don’t know whether she was embarrassed, or preferred to suffer in silence or what.” Carl shrugged. “I’ve always wondered if it could have saved us, though.”

  Since Jake didn’t think Carl was telling the story because he wanted sympathy, that left only one possible explanation for the tale of woe. “You’re suggesting I consider one of those groups so I can understand Jordan better,” he surmised.

  “Obviously it’s up to you and I can’t force you to do anything,” Carl said. “I thought I’d mention it, though, because I’d hate to see the two of you suffer the same fate as Maggie and me.”

  Since he sounded sincere, Jake merely nodded. “I’ll think about it, then. Thank you.” He watched as Jordan’s car pulled in the lot and she parked next to Carl.

  “I have a hunch I’m the topic of conversation here,” she said as she approached them. “I hope you two are playing nice.”

  “Of course.” Jake greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, lingering a bit to enjoy the scent of vanilla and mint.

  “Are you still up for what we talked about?” Carl asked her.

  “Absolutely. I’m ready.” Jordan smiled and her eyes drifted to Jake’s before she turned back to her friend. “I need to talk to Jake. Give us a minute, will you, Carl?”

  “Sure. I need to go make sure the coffee’s on, anyway.”

  Jake’s eyes followed Carl until he was sure they were alone before turning to Jordan. “What’s that about? Is there some big secret I can’t be privy to?”

  Jordan laughed and shook her head. “Nope. All will be revealed soon. I’m really glad you’re here, Jake. It means a lot.”

  “Hey, I told you I plan on sticking around.” He kicked at a pebble in the parking lot, then looked at her and smiled. “At least, assuming you’ll let me.”

  ***

  If she hadn’t planned on letting him stick around, Jordan probably would have changed her mind with one look at his self-deprecating smile. As it was, it simply added to the adorable factor that made her heart flutter whenever she got near him. “That’s a very strong possibility,” she said.

  “What are you doing after the meeting?” he asked.

  “Going home, changing into yoga pants, feeding the cat, fixing something for me to eat and watching some design show on TV.” It wasn’t the most exciting of lives, but it was a routine Jordan had become comfortable with over the past few years, and it suited her much better than her life in California. Was there room to let someone else in, on a possibly long-term basis, without upsetting the balance? “Maybe swim a few laps once the sun goes down.” Jordan tucked her hair behind her ear. “Have I ever mentioned I enjoy moonlight swims?”

  “I recall some mention of that, yes,” Jake said. “Aside from the design show, which isn’t really my thing, it all sounds great. Any chance you want company?”

  Jordan pretended to think about it for a few seconds before nodding. “I think that can be arranged,” she said. “In the interest of full disclosure, you should know that I won’t give up my design shows for you. I draw the line there.”

  “So learn to love them if I love you, is that what you’re telling me?” Jake chuckled.

  “Something like that.” Jordan figured it was a small enough sacrifice that Jake shouldn’t mind making it. She was worth it, right?

  “So you won’t give up your job for me and you won’t give up your design shows.” Jake’s face held a serious expression. “Any other lines you’ve drawn in the sand that I should know about it?”

  Jordan shook her head. “Nope. I’m really not as high maintenance as people might think.” She nodded in the direction of the church entrance. “I need to get inside. Are you sticking around for the meeting?”

  “That’s why I’m here.”

  “Great. We can go back to my place afterward and see if we can figure this thing out.”

  ***

  During a walk over lunch, Jordan had made the decision to lead the meeting, and Carl was happy to relinquish his usual duties to her. He’d emailed her a list of possible topics she could use to facilitate the discussion, and she’d settled on what the topic would be.

  When she took the microphone and scanned the room, her gaze landed on Jake, sitting alone in the back row. He’d come there, without being asked, to show his support. Why? It certainly wasn’t because she was easy to love. Jordan knew she made things difficult, yet here he was, two months after she’d brought him to a meeting trying to warn him away from her. Thankfully, he was persistent and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  After going through the usual meeting business, and a few newcomers had introduced themselves and shared their stories, Jordan shifted toward topic-based discussion and made the decision to change the focus from what she’d planned on. “When I asked to lead our meeting tonight, I thought I’d use one of our slogans, ‘one day at a time,’ as the topic. It seemed appropriate to me. When I first became sober, I kept a calendar, and every single day I got through without taking a drink, I put a line through the box on the calendar to count the number of days. I’m sure many of you have done the same thing.” She looked out at the faces in the room and noticed quite a few nods.

  “Somewhere along the way, I stopped crossing off the days on my calendar. It became commonplace. After five, six, seven years sober, I didn’t think I needed to do it anymore. It turns out I was wrong.” Jordan took a deep breath. “Two nights ago, I drank a glass of wine. Maybe a glass and a half. It wasn’t even good wine, and I didn’t get drunk. A dear friend of mine called it just a slip, not a relapse, but it means the same thing. It means starting over with a new calendar and crossing off the days again, one at a time.” Tonight, she’d go home and put a line through the box marking two days without a drink.

  “I don’t want to talk about that, though.” She hoped no one would deem it a cowardly move, because the new topic took far more courage. “Instead, I want to talk about happiness. My best friend said to me this morning that it’s okay to let myself be happy. At first, I thought ‘what a ridiculous things to say. Of course it is.’ Then I realized she had a point. I’ve never really let myself be happy before. I always found ways to sabotage it. On some level, maybe that’s what I was doing two days ago.” Jordan uncapped a bottle of water and took a drink. “Except now I have someone in my life that doesn’t let me sabotage things, and I think I like it. I think I might like being happy, too, so I’m going to follow my friend’s advice and give myself permission to be happy.”

  ***

  “I’m glad you decided to follow your friend’s advice,” Jake said later when they sat on Jordan’s deck drinking lemonade and eating a taco salad. It was the first they’d spoken of her speech at the meeting.

  “Me, too,” Jordan said. “She’s right. My mother would want me to be happy.”

  “Of course she would.” Jake reached across the table and took her hand. “You talk a lot about your mom. I know she was very specia
l to you. Never about you father, though. I’m assuming he wasn’t in the picture?”

  Jordan let out a bitter laugh. “Not for long enough to matter.”

  “He left.” It alone was enough to make Jake hate him, wherever he might be. “And you worry that if you’re happy, if you have a family, it’ll fall apart, like your family did when you were little.” He didn’t phrase it as a question, but Jordan nodded in response. Yes. Jake hated the man, but he wouldn’t dwell on that. “I’m not him, and I’m not leaving.”

  “I know that, Jake. I do. It’s taken me a while to believe it, but it’s not because of you,” she said quietly. “You’re such a good man.”

  He waited for her to add that she didn’t deserve him, but this time the self-deprecating remark didn’t follow. Jake smiled. They were definitely making progress. “Hey, watch it. You could give a guy an ego,” he joked.

  “Could, I suppose, if you didn’t already have such a big one,” Jordan countered.

  Jake tried his best to look mortified. “Oh, you slay me with your words.”

  “Yeah, right.” Jordan laughed. “Mr. Hollywood ‘I might be getting an Oscar nomination.’”

  “Might,” Jake said. “It’s far from certain. And I’m not sure calling me Mr. Hollywood is accurate, either.”

  “Oh?” Jordan raised an eyebrow. “Why is that?”

  “Because I may become the anti-Hollywood movie star.” Jake had tried to keep the conversation light ever since they got there. Everything she said was encouraging, but he remained wary of the walls going back up. Still, if they were going to settle anything, they needed to talk about it. “Tell me what’s so special about this place,” he said. “And I don’t mean this immediate place.” He waved his hand around to indicate the patio of her condo. “I mean Grande Valley.”

  Jordan looked puzzled by the question. “I like the pace. It’s a lot more laid back than Los Angeles. I enjoy the different culture, too. More than anything, I’ve just learned to feel comfortable here. It feels like home,” she said. “And I like the work I do. I feel like I make a difference for my clients.”