Jordan couldn’t entirely blame his wakefulness on Nicole. In childhood he’d been a chronic insomniac and he hadn’t been able to break the pattern as an adult. Maybe he didn’t want to break it. Something about the night touched on the mysterious, as if doors to the unknown were waiting in the darkness—not that he’d tell anyone how he felt. That sort of belief was too fanciful to confess.
He yawned. The few times he’d come close to dropping off, his imagination had drifted to a long-ago patio and the image of holding Nicole close in a kiss. Yet it wasn’t a teenage girl he saw in his mind, but the woman she’d become—pure fantasy, but enough to disrupt his already elusive sleep.
Turning off the computer, he went for a run, then showered, worked on his column, and at 10:00 a.m., headed out to the talent agency. The interview process was taking more time than originally anticipated, but he still hadn’t gotten that special something needed for the articles. Nicole was right about Syd maneuvering to push his skills; he was sure of it. He was enjoying the challenge, but would enjoy it more if he wasn’t wrestling with desire at the same time.
What was it that Nicole had said about not wanting romance, especially with a guy who’d chosen control along with his bachelor existence? Or something like that. Well, fine. He enjoyed his life and didn’t want the messiness that came from romance and commitment. His reasons might be different from Nicole’s, but they apparently both wanted to stay unattached.
At the agency by ten thirty, he bought two cups of coffee from the Crystal Connection. The shop had a side entrance opening onto the atrium. The building was interesting and very attractive for converted industrial space. He went outside to the Moonlight Ventures door. His sister smiled as he entered.
“Hi, Jordan. Do you have an appointment with Nicole?”
“She’s meeting with prospective clients this morning and was going to see if they minded me observing the process. I forgot to ask if it was okay yesterday, so came on the off-chance they’ve agreed. Could you let her know I’m here?”
“I texted her when I saw you coming.”
“Great.” He handed Chelsea a cup of coffee. “This is for you, in case you want it.”
“Thanks.”
He eyed a chunk of amethyst crystals sitting next to her work area. “That looks new. Are you getting swept into the crystal craze next door?”
“It was so pretty, I couldn’t resist when I went by earlier this morning. Anyhow, when I got up today I decided to do something special for myself, and this turned out to be it.”
Her face was brighter and happier than she’d looked for years. Jordan wanted to ask if the reason was the job, the new city, the guy next door or simply Ron’s absence. But his sister had been very direct in saying that most of those subjects were out-of-bounds.
It was a new experience, having Chelsea set boundaries. But he couldn’t bemoan the development.
A thought struck him that she could do well to take Nicole as a role model, as least in regards to her strength of mind. Of course, Chelsea had also spent time with Terri and Terri was strong as well, except that her strength seemed to be grounded in defiant belligerence. Nicole’s example might be healthier, which was a startling conclusion—he would have given an entirely different answer if asked about it a few weeks ago.
Jordan frowned.
He couldn’t afford too much of a rah-rah attitude about Nicole. He had to maintain objectivity and not let the articles he was writing become her public relations pipeline.
“Good morning, Jordan.” There wasn’t any hint in Nicole’s face that they’d parted the previous evening on poor terms. “I emailed the family I’m meeting with and they just sent back a message saying it’s fine for you to be there, provided you don’t take any pictures or use their names.”
“Family?”
“The daughter is underage, so her legal guardians are part of the process.”
For the next hour, he sat in the background as Nicole talked with the parents and their daughter. The eight-year-old girl appeared shy and Nicole had to coax her out of her shell. It seemed to him that one of the things she was trying to learn was whether the kid really wanted to be a model. She also seemed to be checking on the parents and how reasonable they were about expectations.
“Didn’t you become an internationally known model when you weren’t much older than Amber?” the father asked at one point.
Nicole’s face became guarded. “Yes, my parents were in the clothing business, which gave them extensive connections. It meant a lot of doors were opened early for me. So luck was a—”
“But wouldn’t you have the same connections to use for Amber?” he demanded.
“It doesn’t work that way,” she said smoothly. “In the meantime, please read the materials I’ve given you and perhaps we’ll talk again.”
With that she graciously ended the interview. She sighed and dropped into her office chair once they were gone.
“Is it tough to deal with families like that?” Jordan asked.
She jerked as if she’d forgotten he was there. “To an extent.”
“When it comes to a minor child, is part of your decision based upon how well the parents may fit into the process?”
“For me, yes.”
Jordan rubbed his face. “Look, I know I’ve been a bulldog on this issue and I know you want your parents to be off-limits, but as you already pointed out, there are gray areas where it’s hard to know the dividing line. Is there any way to separate the experience of how your parents handled things, with how you view any child models you might decide to represent?”
Nicole tossed her pen onto the desk. “Probably not. I asked before, and I’ll ask again, how much do your mom and dad influence your view of the world?”
She was good at throwing questions back at him, but he wanted to stop that game. For good or ill, his parents had influenced him the way any parents influenced their children. But at his age, he was responsible for his own thoughts and feelings, he didn’t need to blame his childhood. Of course, Nicole was probably trying to say the same thing about herself.
As for the uncomfortable secret he held about his mother throwing herself at Nicole’s father? For years he’d thought Mr. George had told his wife, explaining the sharp rift in friendship between the families. But Nicole had been clear about not knowing the reason, so what purpose would it serve to tell her now? And if he did, would she feel he was obligated to treat her especially well in the PostModern articles because of what his mother had done?
* * *
NICOLE COCKED HER head in challenge at Jordan’s silence.
She was torn between not wanting to deal with him and an odd anticipation of it. There was something compelling about Jordan that she couldn’t ignore. Originally she’d thought the interviews would simply entail a few hours of sitting and talking. Yet the elongated process was partly her own fault since she resisted revealing too much about herself to Jordan. The odd thing was that she didn’t think she’d have felt the same with a true stranger and it scared her to realize her emotions might be at risk around him.
“Do you realize how often you don’t answer questions, instead turning them around to me?” Jordan asked.
She kept her expression neutral with an effort...it was almost as if he’d read her mind. “Sorry, it’s an old reflex with reporters.”
“Frankly, avoiding your parents as a topic gives the appearance of a dark mystery.”
“No mystery, just a hint of guilt and mixed feelings.”
“Why would you feel guilty?”
Nicole drew in a deep breath. “Okay, off the record, my parents poured a lot of their lives into making a great career for me. It was a good career and I enjoyed it. But as I’ve told you, I feel bad because my sister got left out. Emily was called the smart George sister and that hurt her. It also hurt me because the implication was t
hat I just got by on my looks.”
“Did your parents foster the smart versus pretty comparison?”
“They would rave about how smart she was, as if it made up for not paying that much attention to her. It didn’t, which I think they knew, but they just couldn’t break the pattern.”
Jordan frowned. “So Emily’s unique attractiveness didn’t get appreciated and neither did your brains.”
“Yes. They were proud when Emily built a hugely successful clothing boutique in LA. It was something they understood and now they had two daughters making waves in the fashion world. Imagine their shock when Emily put a manager in charge of her business and moved to Schuyler, Montana. They would have approved of Paris or New York, not a tiny town in the middle of ranching country.”
“Then you retired to become a talent agent. I imagine that didn’t go down well.”
“You’re telling me.” Nicole stirred restlessly. “Shall we take a walk? I’ve been here since 6:00 a.m. and I’m getting cabin fever.”
He nodded and they went outside.
“Did you start early this morning because of me?” Jordan asked as she led him toward the back of the parking lot.
“Not specifically because of you. But setting time aside for interviews means I need to get work done at another hour.”
“Nice of you not to make it personal.”
“That’s because it isn’t personal. I would have to do the same for any reporter writing the PostModern articles.”
Moonlight Ventures wasn’t far from Lake Washington and Nicole already knew the best route to the shoreline. Her nerves eased once they were at the water’s edge, though not as much as they would have if she’d been alone.
“Are your folks adjusting to your decision?” Jordan asked.
“You bet. They’re even offering me advice on running the agency,” Nicole said wryly.
“From what I’ve seen, it doesn’t look as if you need it.”
She smiled. “Their focus is different, but I’ll take wisdom from whatever direction it arrives.”
“I don’t want to put words in your mouth,” Jordan said carefully, “but is part of becoming an agent because you want to claim an accomplishment in your own right?”
He was a bulldog on that issue, too. The question was whether he wanted something intimate, or just confirmation of his assumptions that she was trying to break away from a parental choice in her life.
Nicole wrinkled her nose. “It’s never that simple, is it? I’m benefiting from the experience and contacts I made while modeling, so it isn’t as if I started at Moonlight Ventures and had to learn everything from the ground up. Mostly I was ready to pass on what I know to other people and help them succeed. But in a larger sense, I’ve been genuinely fortunate. I think I have an obligation to pay some of that back.”
She sank onto a bench and gazed across the lake. There was a light breeze and the sun was shining. It was the kind of day that almost made her regret choosing a working life.
“Some of that is remarkably similar to something you said before,” he pointed out. “Are you still claiming that becoming an agent is based on altruism?”
His voice held a slight edge of sarcasm and her jaw clenched. Why had she wasted time wondering whether Jordan had hidden finer qualities? Even if he did, they were obviously repressed by his jaded outlook. It bothered her. There was enough negativity, and it was sad to think Jordan might be part of it.
“You said you weren’t going to put words in my mouth, yet you keep doing it,” she returned sharply, her frustration rising. “Obviously you think I’m putting on an act to look good. I believe ‘noble’ is the description you used before. Now you’re calling it altruism.”
“It just seems there must be more to it.”
“Your note of sarcasm implies much more than that.”
Nicole reminded herself that it didn’t matter if he thought she wasn’t being genuine. They weren’t friends. It was messy because of their shared past, but ultimately he was just the reporter doing an article on her. Any disappointment on her part was illogical.
“I’m sorry you don’t like my answers,” she continued. “Will it help for me to say I also wanted to succeed in a new way, or do you want to pick that apart as well?” Jumping to her feet, she gave him a polished smile. “I need to get back and finish a few things. I promised to attend a career fair between two and four, so my afternoon is occupied.”
“May I go to observe?”
“Suit yourself. You can get the address and contact information from Chelsea.” This time she didn’t intend to expedite his participation the way she had with the performance at the high school. He was on his own.
“Wait,” Jordan said as she started back in the direction of the agency.
“Yes?”
“You don’t need to get in a snit because I was honest about my doubts. I’m trying to be objective.”
“First of all, I question whether you’d claim a man was getting in a ‘snit’ over something. Beyond that, you’re free to doubt anything you want. I wouldn’t expect anything else from a cynic. However, I’d like to point out that objective means being free of bias and personal feelings. Despite your claim that you’d try to control your biases, your preconceived opinions seem to be more rampant than ever.”
Nicole saw red creeping up Jordan’s neck.
“Believe what you want, you will anyway,” she continued. “But in actuality, you keep straying off topic. These articles are supposed to be about my transition from model to businesswoman. Instead, you mostly want to talk about the past and try to show my motives are all based on the past. Of course the past influences me, but I’m not a puppet. Yet when I try to express my thoughts and feelings, you slap them back in my face.”
Jordan looked shocked. “I didn’t intend to do that.”
“And yet that’s what you did. By the way, don’t forget that talking about my family is off the record, so they’re still off limits for the article. Oh, and be sure to call ahead for permission to attend the career fair. School officials are very cautious about who they allow on campus these days.”
* * *
JORDAN MENTALLY KICKED himself as he watched Nicole moving swiftly away. He’d come closer to achieving the kind of rapport needed for his articles, only to blow it.
He definitely wasn’t himself these days.
Her comments about her family had roused sympathy and he’d promptly reminded himself that he was a skeptic. Then the sunlight had glinted across her hair like a golden fire. If he’d been a poet he might have said something metaphorical about her intensely azure eyes that looked like the Mediterranean on a clear day or that her complexion rivaled the finest silk. Then there was her personality, which sparkled like champagne. He’d been fighting the impulse to leap in that direction, which resulted in his graceless response.
It wasn’t that he’d lied. He questioned and doubted everything, and that was as neutral as he could get. It might not be the most illustrious claim a guy could make, but he would never pretend to agree with something and then write something else. Still, he was guilty of clinging to his biases. And the way he’d responded had also shut down any budding trust.
When I try to express my thoughts and feelings, you slap them back in my face.
Jordan flinched at the memory. Getting Nicole to open up might be impossible now. As for saying she’d gotten into a snit? Blast it all, she was right. He would never have said that to a man, and probably not to another woman. Instead he’d reverted to sophomoric behavior. Given Nicole’s sex appeal and the average man’s libido, he was likely just the latest in a long line of idiots she’d encountered. As consolations went, that wasn’t much, but it was all he had.
Well, no point in whining over his mistakes. He glanced at his watch; it was past twelve. He’d get the information from Chelsea about the c
areer fair and make the necessary call, then grab lunch and wait for Nicole. When she headed for her car, he’d ask her to let him ride along. He could attend the career fair on his own, but it seemed diplomatic to go with her.
She might agree, though considering how angry she’d been, it was a good thing she didn’t have an ejector seat.
* * *
A WHILE LATER Jordan opened his eyes and glanced out of his car window, which he’d left down to catch the breeze off Lake Washington.
What? Nicole’s car was gone. He fumbled for his phone to check the time and saw that he’d slept through the afternoon.
He frowned. There was a sticky note on his side-view mirror.
Jordan,
Lack of sleep interferes with cognitive function and/or social ability. Good to see you’re catching up.
Nicole
Groaning, Jordan rubbed his face. He gulped what was left of the coffee in his cup, even though it would probably inhibit him getting to sleep that night.
When Nicole got back to the agency he’d have to eat crow, or something equally hard to stomach. As he sat ruminating on the forthcoming recipe, his sister came out and locked the agency door, then headed in his direction; she carried an express box from the post office, her handbag laid over it.
“Hey, Jordan,” she said, peering through the window. “I’ve been watching you out here all afternoon. At first I was going to check to see if you were okay. But Nicole said you were taking your kindergarten nap, whatever that means.”
“She has an unusual sense of humor. When does she expect to be back?”
“Not tonight. She has plans for the evening.”
Despite having no reason to think Nicole had arranged a romantic interlude, his mind immediately went in that direction.
“So,” he said to Chelsea, “would you like to eat dinner with your brother?”
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