Chelsea sounded sincere. After all, it wasn’t necessarily the job that had gotten her upset. It might have been a phone call—no, scratch that. Terri had mentioned Chelsea’s cell phone getting lost in the accident, unless she’d located it before leaving.
“Have you found your cell phone yet?” he asked.
“No.”
“Might as well replace it. If we don’t linger over dinner, there’s a place near the restaurant where we can get one. I’d like to be able to reach you more easily.”
“You don’t need to take the time. I can manage.”
Jordan shook his head. “Nonsense. I just have to be back here by seven thirty to shadow more of Nicole’s work. She’s attending a play to see if anyone involved with it has talent.”
“Oh, right. She told me about that.”
It was tempting to question Chelsea and see what she thought of the agency and the work they were doing. But it wouldn’t be fair to his sister, or to Nicole.
At the restaurant, Chelsea seemed to relax. “Terri called. She’s already on the road, bringing my car up here. I’ll buy her a plane ticket to fly home.”
“I talked to her, too. I’ve already bought her a ticket.”
“Oh, I... I’m the one who should do it. She’s coming as a favor to me. I’ll pay you back.”
“There’s nothing to pay back. I’ve got more frequent flyer miles than I know what to do with.”
Chelsea grew quiet again and Jordan wondered if she was brooding over her first day at the agency.
“So, do you think you’ll like working at Moonlight Ventures?” he asked.
“Sure.”
“What did you do today?”
“Just got used to everything.”
“I see.” Jordan felt as if he was slogging through an especially unproductive interview. “Did they tell you not to talk with me about the agency?”
Chelsea drew her head up, looking surprised. “Not at all. It would hardly be necessary, anyway. I wouldn’t tell anyone my employer’s private information. That wouldn’t be right.”
“I’m not pumping you for information, just trying to find out how your day went.”
“And I told you it was fine.”
Jordan wasn’t sure what was wrong, just that something seemed to be off. Later, when he tried to buy her a phone at the mall, Chelsea got upset and shoved her credit card at the saleswoman. Yet she seemed to get over it quickly; back at the guesthouse she waved and went up the stairs.
Nicole came outside a few minutes later. “You’ll have to move your car so I can get out of the garage.”
“I’ll drive.” He opened the door for her and she shrugged. Tonight she was wearing a black outfit that was dressier than her casual look earlier in the afternoon. But the stage prop glasses and slightly altered makeup was some misdirection.
He’d already programmed the school’s address into his car’s GPS, wanting to focus on discussion with Nicole rather than the twists and turns to their destination. But making conversation proved difficult; he kept worrying about his sister, wondering if he should have stayed with her instead of going with Nicole.
“Is something wrong?” Nicole asked.
“I was just thinking. Did you hear how things went with Chelsea today?”
“Are you checking up on her, or the agency?”
He tensed. “I’m concerned about my sister. We had dinner and she was even quieter than usual.”
“Didn’t you ask how things went?”
Jordan turned where the GPS said to turn. “Yes, she said everything was fine.”
“Then why aren’t you taking her at her word?”
“You don’t know the circumstances. And I’m not going to tell you what they are,” he added hastily.
Nicole made a disgusted sound. “Next time you might wait until I ask before rushing to say you aren’t telling me something. It’s Chelsea’s information to share. She’s an adult. If she wants to tell me, she will. I’m not going to treat her like a child who can’t handle her life.”
He felt a surprising impulse to explain how awkward the evening had been. Chelsea was such a sweet kid and he always seemed to be saying or doing the wrong thing with her. But why had she gotten so upset by a plane ticket and him trying to buy her a cell phone? He thought it was the kind of thing that big brothers were supposed to do.
As they arrived at the school, his nerves were tight and he thought longingly of the relaxing weeks he’d spent in Fiji. Right now, between worry for his sister, the PostModern article series, and the subtly provocative dress Nicole was wearing, he felt as if sandpaper was being rubbed up and down his spine.
This just wasn’t going to be his month.
* * *
NICOLE TRIED TO ignore Jordan’s mood and concentrate on the stage, confirming her impressions of the singer and the play’s author. There was also a good comic moment that one of the freshmen pulled off. It hadn’t worked in the afternoon’s performance and was too short to know for certain, so she simply made a mental note of his name for future reference.
Yet the whole time she was aware of Jordan sitting next to her, and tried to visualize him as a huge, brooding question mark, rather than a man. She’d had little time for socializing lately, so surely it was natural for her to be more aware of him than normal.
During the final act, she stood quietly and they left the auditorium.
“Ms. George,” a voice called as they walked through the entrance hall. She turned and saw the principal.
“Hello, Mr. Dougherty,” she greeted.
“Good evening. Shall I keep you informed of future school events?”
“That would be helpful.”
“I’m grateful for your interest in our kids.” The principal glanced at Jordan. “Is this one of your fellow agents, or the friend you said would be attending earlier this afternoon?”
“He’s, um, the childhood friend I told you about. He also wanted to see the public performance of the play. Good night.”
“Oh, yes, the same to you.”
Outside they got into the car and Jordan drove onto the street as a few other attendees were reaching the parking lot.
“Do you think Dougherty will actually keep it confidential when you’re coming?” he asked. “Or that you were there today? I’m sure it would make him look good to parents and the school board if he told them you’d come to the performance.”
Nicole rolled her eyes. Jordan was a true skeptic about human nature. “Obviously I can’t guarantee it, but he’s a concerned administrator who cares about his students. Regardless, if we contact any of the kids, they might tell their friends. That’s probably a bigger risk than Mr. Dougherty spilling the beans.”
They were nearing a small shopping area with a gourmet coffee shop and Jordan waved in that direction.
“I’d like a hot drink. How about you?”
“I suppose.” She figured this was how it was going to work with him, lots of “casual” conversations, rather than formal interviews, which meant it would be awfully easy to let down her guard. Despite her partners’ reassurances, she didn’t want to relax too much with Jordan.
He pulled into the parking lot and stopped the car. They went inside and he ordered a tall black decaf, while she got peppermint tea.
Nicole noted how Jordan added a precise amount of sugar at the condiment bar and cleaned up after himself. Not unusual, but it went along with other things she’d observed. Jordan’s car was spotless, inside and out. He made meticulous notes in his notebook, rather than hasty scribbles.
When he’d first appeared in his Harvard Guy getup, she wouldn’t have expected it. But now, by his own admission, it was clear he liked everything to be under control. Yet he didn’t seem neurotic, but appeared more like a man determined to have his life run the way he wanted. A wife, children
, pets...they’d turn his orderly life into a circus.
“Are you planning to sign some of the kids from tonight?” he asked.
“I’ll investigate the possibilities, but signing a client is also up to them. And for any kid under eighteen, their parents have to agree. Some might be opposed to the idea.”
“That sure wasn’t a problem with your mother and father,” he said in a dry voice.
Nicole stiffened. She’d known Jordan a long time ago, but the kid—and later the teenager—she had sparred with wasn’t the same person as the sometimes enigmatic man she was now encountering. And this was such an artificial situation with him interviewing her. Maybe it was inevitable that he’d bring up her parents since they’d had so much to do with her career, but she didn’t find it easy to talk about them.
“They were astute about managing my career as a minor,” she said. “It’s interesting that you had such an odd tone when you mentioned them. Any particular reason?”
“Of course not.” But Jordan had answered too quickly for her to believe his denial, and he may have recognized it because he sat back with a set jaw. “Okay,” he continued, “it always seemed as if they were doing a rave review, as if they were saying ‘Look how fabulous our daughter is doing, look how successful she is...isn’t it a shame your kids aren’t so pretty and in such demand?’”
“Unfortunately, you’re probably right.”
His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I didn’t think you’d agree.”
Nicole drew a deep breath. “I’m going to level with you, but it isn’t for publication. While my folks are good people, they were stage parents. I don’t believe they ever tried to sabotage another child model’s career, but they did everything possible to push mine.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“I was a kid, Jordan, and to be honest I was a wimpy kid. I did what I was told because it was easier than facing the massive guilt trip about how I didn’t understand how much they were doing for my future.”
“You sound as if you resent them.”
“I don’t. Since they were high-end fashion buyers, they knew the movers and shakers in the fashion world, so when they saw opportunities, they pursued them for me. And like I said, you’d better not put anything about this in your articles. It’s supposed to be about me changing careers as an adult, not my childhood.”
“Granted, but I’m curious. You were such a little princess back then.”
Nicole let out an exasperated breath. “Maybe, or maybe you just believed what everyone else said. I don’t know how many times Terri’s friends said I should try to get her a job as a model and that I didn’t do it because I was a spoiled brat who didn’t want the competition.”
Jordan seemed to choke on a gulp of his coffee. “Terri? I can’t picture her prancing down a runway.”
“Your prejudices are showing. Prancing is a pejorative term.”
“You don’t have to use big words to prove you’re intelligent.”
She leaned forward. “I don’t have to avoid them, either. Strobe lights, cameras and makeup don’t progressively leach a model’s brain into nonexistence. Or do you actually believe that people go into modeling because they lack the smarts or ability to do anything else?”
“Don’t put words into my mouth,” he protested. “Let’s drop it and talk more about the poor kid with stage parents who pushed her into a career she didn’t want, so when she grew up, she pushed back and left modeling behind forever.”
Nicole tried to stay calm. “That’s far too simplistic. Besides, I told you, I don’t want anything about my parents in this article. They’re decent people. Except for expenses associated with my modeling, they never touched a penny of the money I earned. It went into a trust fund.”
“But didn’t their pushing have something to do with your decision to change careers now?”
She stared out the window at the people coming and going from the nearby ice cream parlor and deli. Jordan might not be a full-time reporter any longer, but he still could ask questions that dug into a person’s private thoughts and emotions.
“Well?” he prompted.
“Obviously I didn’t choose my first career, it was chosen for me. That doesn’t mean I hated it, and it doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the advantages I have now because of it.”
“You didn’t give a real answer.”
She sipped her tea. “It’s the only one you’re going to get at the moment.”
“Then you’re saying you might consider rephrasing your answer in the future?”
“Possibly. No guarantees.” Nicole set her cup aside. “Shall we go?”
“I’m ready if you are.”
They got up and he held the door open for two customers coming into the café. One, a dark-haired woman about thirty, stopped midstep and smiled at Jordan with a flirtatious air.
Interesting. He was an attractive, unattached man and Nicole wondered if he would have tried to get the woman’s phone number if he was alone. It must be putting a crimp in his social life to work on a Friday evening.
* * *
JORDAN STUDIED THE dark-haired woman, who smiled back at him with an inviting air. She glanced at his ring finger, then at Nicole, and back at him with another smile. Apparently his being accompanied by a gorgeous blonde didn’t faze her.
“Shall we go, Nicole?” he prompted.
“Sure.”
Outside she got into the car and fastened her seat belt. “It’s too bad we didn’t drive separately. You might have had company tonight if you hadn’t needed to take me home. At least you could have gotten her number.”
“I don’t hook up that casually.”
It was true. Even in Fiji, he’d taken the time to get to know his partner.
“If you say so.”
“I do say so. I may not be interested in marriage or family, but I prefer knowing a woman at least a little while before sleeping with her.”
“That one seemed both knowable and likable.”
Jordan wasn’t convinced about the likable part. “It’s a moot point, regardless. Besides, wasn’t she ‘betraying the sisterhood’ by coming on to me while you were standing there? We were obviously together.”
“I suppose, but—oh, turn right,” Nicole said urgently.
“What?”
“Do it.”
He turned, drove straight a while, then made several more turns by her directions until they entered an open area and she told him to stop.
“Turn off the headlights and look,” she breathed.
Lights were playing against the sky, as if invisible hoses were spraying liquid color far and wide. They got out and watched in silence, Nicole quietly drinking it in at his side. He looked at her. Even in the darkness he could see her rapt pleasure.
Finally, she sighed. “Have you ever seen the northern lights before?”
“Once, in Alaska. I’m more interested in visiting warm climates, than cold ones.”
“When I learned they can sometimes be seen in the Seattle area, I figured out where this park was and I’ve been hoping. So I was awfully excited when I spotted them tonight. Thank you for sharing it with me.”
Jordan sucked in a breath at her quick, impulsive hug. It might have been brief, but the softness of her curves felt imprinted on his body.
“It, uh, it’s a remarkable sight,” he said, annoyed that he was practically stuttering. Nicole wasn’t the only beautiful woman he’d known, or the only one who’d hugged him.
“I’ve heard they can be even more intense during the winter. Isn’t Seattle great?”
“You sound as if you’ve fallen in love with the area.”
“I have,” Nicole said simply. “It has a different kind of energy that’s refreshing, though I don’t have anything against Los Angeles. The LA area has all sorts of things that
make it an exciting city—Disneyland, the Tar Pits, the Getty and the Coliseum, to name a few.”
“Don’t forget the Dodgers and Angels baseball teams.”
“True, but up here I’m cheering for the Mariners. I’ve got a soft spot for people who’ve endured long losing streaks.”
“Ah, so you like underdogs.”
“Everyone roots for winners. Somebody needs to care about the losers.”
“Is that one of the philosophies behind your agency?”
Her low, sultry laugh sent blood surging into his groin.
“Jordan, stop being an interviewer for five minutes and just watch the northern lights. This is a rare opportunity and you aren’t taking advantage of it.”
He made mental notes, trying not to think of Nicole standing there in the close, intimate darkness, or the heated imprint of her body against his. A cool breeze across the park did little to dispel it.
Focus, he ordered silently. For example, he should ask why she and her partners had chosen Seattle when there was such an active fashion industry in Southern California. Hollywood was there, too. Considering Moonlight Ventures was obviously interested in areas beyond modeling, they were a significant distance from some of the most lucrative markets to place their clients.
“You can’t do it, can you?” Nicole asked. “I can practically feel the tension emanating from your body, as if the questions are charging through every cell and exuding from your fingertips.”
Actually, it was hormones charging through his system. Focusing on journalistic questions was the only thing keeping him sane.
The devil with restraint. He tugged on Nicole’s arm and pulled her close. Lord, her lips felt good and her soft, sweet scent filled his nostrils. Threading his fingers through her silky hair, he deepened the kiss. Her mouth opened and he could swear the lights in the sky had gone shooting through his veins.
Nicole gently pushed on his chest. He let go with a gasp, barely hanging onto his self-control.
“I’m afraid that was my fault,” she said, her voice almost even. “I gave you the wrong idea when I hugged you.”
“Oh, that’s... Don’t worry about it.”
“Maybe we should leave now.”
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