“I don’t need to do either, at least not right away. Nicole has a guesthouse over her garage, and she says I can rent it while I get used to the Seattle area and figure out where I want to live permanently. Your place only has one bedroom, so this is much better than sleeping on the couch and crowding you. I know Terri usually stays on your boat when she’s here, but this, uh...is best for me, I think.”
Jordan wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or grateful. For months he and Terri had been encouraging their baby sister to break things off with Ron. Chelsea had struggled with the idea—hardly a surprise with the less-than-blissful example of domestic life in which they’d been raised. She probably believed that was how relationships worked. Now, after one visit to Nicole George’s talent agency, she had a job that was twelve hundred miles from Ron Swanson.
Jordan decided it was something to celebrate, no matter how it had come about, or how many complications might ensue.
“Could we, um...go over to Nicole’s right now?” Chelsea asked. “That way you could see the guesthouse with me.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
In his small two-seater sports car, he noticed Chelsea gulping and turning pale.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “Does being in a car make you nervous because of the accident?”
“Not exactly.” She frowned at the dashboard. “I feel guilty, I guess. I’d just told Ron I wanted to split up. He got angry, and the next thing I knew we were broadsided.” She pushed a hand through her hair. “I don’t remember getting hit, just Ron swearing a blue streak afterward about the damage to his SUV.”
“The police told Terri that the other vehicle ran a stoplight. It had nothing to do with you or Ron’s driving.”
“I know, it’s just hard not to keep thinking about it.”
Jordan winked at her, the way he’d done when they were kids. “Come on, Cheesy, you aren’t to blame. The accident had nothing to do with you.”
She grinned at the old nickname. “I guess not. Anyway, getting the job up here feels right.”
It was harder for him to be certain of the same thing, but at least she was making decisions about her life.
* * *
CHELSEA HOPED SHE didn’t look too anxious. She’d never lived anywhere except the Los Angeles area and the thought of moving to a different city in another state was scary, though her brother lived there, too. But this was the time to do it, while she was between jobs. She was even excited to think Seattle could be a whole new start.
She had quietly given notice for her old position two weeks earlier, asking her boss to keep it confidential. Since Ron worked for the same company, she’d figured it was best to cut all ties. The day before yesterday, she had finished working out her notice so it had seemed the right moment to break up with him. As soon as she’d told him they were over, she had felt a huge conviction that she’d done the right thing, but then the accident had happened and uncertainty had flooded her again.
In retrospect, telling him while they were driving might not have been the best choice. But she’d been afraid he’d yell or make a scene and had figured no one would hear if they were in his SUV.
It might take a while before she felt as if the world wasn’t going to fall apart around her at any moment.
Jordan parked on a quiet residential street and she looked at the house, which wasn’t what she’d expected. It was built in a homey style and there were hanging baskets of flowers on the front porch. She wasn’t sure where she’d thought a supermodel would live, but it wasn’t something so...so cheery and normal.
The door opened as they came up the walk and Nicole stepped out. “Hi, Jordan. Hi, Chelsea. Let’s see if the guesthouse suits your needs.”
Following Nicole toward the garage, Chelsea sighed with relief. The way things had happened seemed almost too good to be true; deep down it had been difficult not to wonder if Nicole would change her mind about both the job and the apartment.
Exterior stairs climbed up the far side of the three-car garage into an apartment that was even nicer than Chelsea had hoped.
“It’s furnished, but the house isn’t?” Jordan asked, glancing around.
“The guest apartment came this way. The previous owners used it for their in-laws, but they didn’t need the furniture in their new place. Everything was nice and in good condition, so I agreed to buy it as part of the house purchase.”
Chelsea listened as she explored the pretty apartment. A bouquet of fresh flowers sat on the dresser in the bedroom, and she thought it was awfully nice of Nicole to have done that. And there was a small balcony in the back, looking onto the neighbor’s stand of evergreen trees.
“It’s perfect,” she declared, turning around. “Thank you so much. I’ll take really good care of everything.”
“I’m sure you will.” Nicole handed a key to her. “Move in whenever you like. Right now, I need to get somewhere.”
Chelsea’s fingers closed around the key as if it was a lifeline. In a way it was—a lifeline that would help her stay away from the dark memories lurking around every corner in Los Angeles.
“Look around some more,” Jordan said when they were alone. “I need to check on something.”
He hurried out the door.
Curious, Chelsea went to a front window and saw him catch up with Nicole on the front walk. He seemed to be talking very fast and she bobbed her head before hurrying toward the house. A few minutes later a sleek silver-gray car appeared, practically below Chelsea’s feet, backing down the driveway.
Jordan was still standing at the side of the drive and the vehicle stopped. He put a hand on the sedan’s roof and spoke again. Even from her vantage point Chelsea thought he looked tense and she wondered if something was wrong.
Letting the curtain drop in place, she tried to stop trembling. How could she be twenty-seven and still feel like a scared child all the time? Over the past year Terri had been saying that Ron was gaslighting her, making her believe that everything was her fault. She’d finally realized her sister was right, but it wasn’t easy to stop feeling as if she was the one who’d done something wrong.
“You okay?” Jordan asked when he returned.
“Fine.” Chelsea loved her brother, but he’d always seemed so confident and bigger than life. He and Terri had reacted differently to the tension between their parents—they’d gotten angry and fought back. She was a mouse, which was something a lion like Jordan probably couldn’t understand.
“What’s that?” he asked, gesturing to the sheet of paper she was examining.
“The bus schedule. Nicole must have printed it out for me. She offered to give me rides when her schedule isn’t too crazy, but I want to use mass transit until I get my car up here.”
“I’ll give you rides,” Jordan said firmly, but Chelsea shook her head.
“Taking the bus will give me a better feel for the city.”
“All right. This place seems move-in ready. Let’s have dinner, then pick up whatever you need to get settled.”
She followed, locking the door carefully behind them. Maybe she was just fooling herself, but moving to Seattle really did seem to be a good decision.
So far.
Tears threatened at that mental caveat. She desperately wanted to feel like a normal person again...someone who wasn’t always expecting something horrible to happen.
* * *
NICOLE DROVE TO the agency where she and Adam were having a conference call with Rachel and Logan. She hadn’t felt like dealing with Jordan’s questions about Chelsea’s employment beforehand, so she’d agreed to talk before her run the next morning. Right now he was meeting all her low expectations of reporters.
“Even bad press is still advertising,” Logan quipped when she finished explaining the situation. He was in Venice for a wedding shoot. Weddings weren’t his thing, but he’d known t
he groom forever and was doing it as a gift to the couple.
“Besides, we don’t want to toady to reporters,” Rachel added. “Kevin McClaskey never did.” Rachel was at her home in Southern California.
“And his agency never grew,” Nicole felt obliged to point out, troubled that her friends could be harmed by the way she dealt with Jordan. The only consolation was that they were the ones who’d urged her to do the interviews with PostModern. “I don’t want to mess this up for you guys.”
“You aren’t going to mess anything up,” Logan assured her. “Kevin wanted Moonlight Ventures to stay a mom-and-pop type of business. That’s why it didn’t grow. We can’t worry about every biased reporter out there.”
“We knew it was a risk to agree to the articles, no matter what they promised us,” Adam said. “The editor wasn’t playing straight to send someone who wasn’t impartial, but it is what is. Besides, if we object, it’ll just make us look defensive. We trust you, Nicole. Handle Masters the way your instincts say you should. Blow him off, argue, whatever feels right.”
“I agree,” Rachel added firmly. “Just be yourself.”
“Except I’ve never been ‘myself’ with reporters,” Nicole reminded them. “I’ve always put on a polite, distant act. That isn’t going to be easy to do around Jordan.” She didn’t add that by the time she’d left modeling, she’d viewed reporters as conscienceless vampires who didn’t care if they destroyed lives as long as they got their story. It wasn’t fair, and she believed in a free press, but she just wished they’d stay away from her.
“Don’t try to put on a polite show,” Logan advised. “The magazine editor said Masters might want to talk with all of us. I think we should be upfront with him.”
“There’s also the issue of hiring his sister.” Nicole pointed out. “Maybe I screwed up by letting Chelsea apply.”
“I don’t think so,” Adam said. “I got great reports from her former employer and have a good feeling about her. Besides, it might be some form of discrimination if we hadn’t given her a chance.”
Nicole had wondered about that as well. It didn’t seem likely, but there were a number of laws regarding employers and she was still learning.
“I don’t think she’ll operate like a spy,” Adam continued, “though Masters may think we have ulterior motives for employing his sister.”
Nicole made a face. “I already know he has questions about us giving her a job, but I doubt he trusts me regardless, so it probably doesn’t make a difference.”
“How about doing our own article?” Adam suggested.
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“We’re launching our Beneath the Surface blog before long. Why don’t you write about Jordan and the process of being interviewed? You’ve always had good suggestions for fixing advertising material, so I’m sure you could do it.”
Nicole frowned thoughtfully. Kevin McClaskey had published a quarterly trade newsletter and it had a respectable mailing list. They hoped to turn it into a magazine for the general public, but were still exploring the risks and possibilities. In the meantime, a blog seemed like a cost-effective way to gain an audience and it was something the others could work on, whether or not they were in Seattle.
It would be interesting to put the shoe on the other foot, so to speak, and turn the spotlight on a reporter. Jordan wouldn’t have to be referenced by name, though it might be pointless not to do so. Once the PostModern articles began appearing, everyone would know he was the one who’d been interviewing her.
“I’ll consider it,” she said.
* * *
AT 6:30 A.M. the next day, Nicole started for the park and found Jordan at the head of the fitness trail where they’d agreed to meet. He wore running shorts and a T-shirt that showed off his physique. Plainly he’d done more than swing in a hammock and sip piña coladas while in Fiji.
“Good morning,” she greeted him.
“Hi. As I said last night, I want to talk to you about Chelsea.”
“Is there a problem?” She began a series of stretching exercises in an attempt to appear relaxed and casual.
“It seems unusual to offer a job to someone you know nothing about.”
“Are you suggesting we’ll regret hiring her?” Nicole looked up, keeping her expression innocent.
“Not in the least. Chelsea was excellent at her last job and only left because someone she, er, needed to avoid was employed there, too.”
It fit what Nicole had suspected, that something particularly intense was going on in her new office manager’s life. Jordan obviously didn’t want to elaborate.
She nodded briskly. “Chelsea heard we needed someone and asked if she could apply. One of my partners is in town, so he interviewed her, then phoned for a reference and got a positive report. He was quite happy about hiring Chelsea, and we urgently need someone.”
Nicole didn’t think it was appropriate to offer more since Chelsea was now an employee of the agency. Adam’s only concern had been that Chelsea was overqualified and might not stay long for that reason. On the positive side, she might advance into being an agent for Moonlight Ventures; with her experience in human resources, she likely had the necessary skills. Adam had wondered if she would be able to deal with pushy or manipulative clients, but had still felt she should be given a chance.
Jordan didn’t answer immediately; he seemed to be formulating his answer. “This is an unusual situation. I’m doing a series of magazine articles about you and the agency. Those articles will give Moonlight Ventures a lot of publicity, and now my sister is working there.”
“Are you worried about your objectivity, or whether I’m trying to influence what you write?”
“Maybe both.”
“We already know you aren’t objective, so that’s your concern. And since I don’t think you trust me in any case, anything I say or do won’t make a difference.”
Surprise flashed through his eyes. “You don’t seem offended by that.”
“Why should I be? It’s far from the worst thing a reporter has suggested. Besides, as kids you always made it clear you disliked me, so you’re probably starting the interviews with a bad opinion of me, regardless.”
Now Jordan seemed completely nonplussed and she wondered if he was going to deny it. “You don’t believe I could have decided I was wrong about you?” he asked instead.
Nicole made a noncommittal gesture. “I haven’t seen any evidence to think so. You didn’t really know me when we were kids, but still disliked me. And from what I’ve picked up from my folks, our mothers still don’t get along. I never knew what happened that broke up their friendship, but it must have been bad. I doubt your mother has ever said anything positive about me or my family since then. Years ago she even conducted a brief, but vicious, social media campaign against us.”
Jordan looked appalled. “Mom?”
“Oh, yes. Apparently a few of her comments were rather libelous. She deleted everything after my dad’s lawyer mentioned a lawsuit might be in the offing.”
“I’m sorry, I had no idea.”
Nicole smiled wryly. “I was frantically busy with my college classes and work, so I mostly heard about it secondhand. It helped that social media was pretty new then. That aside, I don’t expect everyone to think I’m perfect, especially since I’m not. Everyone has different tastes, and personalities sometimes clash. That’s life. So, do you genuinely think I’m trying to manipulate you by giving Chelsea a job?”
“I’m still not clear about why you hired her.”
“One of my colleagues made the hiring decision. All I did was give Chelsea the application and take her back to his office. What was I supposed to do, tell her she couldn’t apply because she was your sister? That wouldn’t be fair.”
“Agreed, but you also offered the use of your guesthouse.”
“True, and I
’d let her stay for free, but she insists on paying rent. I did it because we knew each other as kids and...” Nicole stopped. Perhaps she shouldn’t offer an opinion about Chelsea as an unhappy kid and the impression that she could use some support now.
“And?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Maybe it does.”
“Let’s just say it looks as if she’s had a rough time lately and I wanted to help out. But remember that I’m not obligated to tell you everything I think, even during the interviews for PostModern.”
“I don’t expect you to. By the way, can we start them today, instead of waiting until Monday?”
Nicole’s nerves instinctively tightened. Since the interviews hadn’t “officially” begun, anything she’d said to date should be off the record. But that was a technicality. He might not respect boundaries, so she may as well agree. And the sooner the interviews were over, the better.
She really would have to think about writing something for the blog the agency was starting. Jordan probably wouldn’t like it, but since he thought it was hypocritical for her to want privacy, she could argue the same about him. After all, he was a prominent newspaper columnist, making his living on being in the public eye.
Except...what she wrote shouldn’t be about turning the tables on Jordan. She’d have to think it over.
“How about it?” he prompted.
“Okay, we can begin the process right away, but at the moment I’m going to start my run.”
He fell in at her side as she set off down the trail. Though she would have preferred running alone, she didn’t object. They ran for an hour and he insisted on running the half mile from the park to her house. She noted that his breathing was strong, not heavy, despite their swift pace.
“What are you doing today?” Jordan asked. “Chelsea told me she’s starting at the agency this morning. Will you be showing her the ropes?”
“For a few hours, but I think it’s best if you aren’t there. It would be easier on her. This afternoon I’m attending a high school play and I’ll go again tonight to see their performance for the general public.”
Moonlight Over Seattle Page 5