I Promise (12 page)

“No. I want to be a novelist.”

“Then I'll become your number one fan.”

“How do you know whether you'll like my writing?”

“I already like everything you do.”

His compliment flustered her. “Thank you, I think.”

“You're welcome. Mind if I ask you a personal question this time?”

“I don't think we should get personal.”

“I disagree.”

Averting her gaze, she drew in a shaky breath. “Trust me, it's for the best.”

“You sound like a woman with a dark secret.”

“I'm sure you have some secrets of your own,” she countered. She didn't like how he danced too close to the truth.

“No. My life is pretty much an open book.”

“Then you're very fortunate.” She slid her chair back. “Thank you for dinner, but I think I should be getting to bed now.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you.”

“Forget it, it's nothing.” She stood.

“Please, stay. I don't want you to leave angry with me.”

“I'm not mad at you. I'm angry at life in general,” she confessed, then paused to collect her thoughts. “Look, Jordan, I'm really flattered that you like me. I admit there's maybe a mild attraction between us, but it doesn't matter. The only thing I can offer you is friendship.”

He met her gaze. “Is it because there's someone else?”

“Does it matter?”

“To me it does.”

“Let's just let it go.” She stood and walked away from the table.

He watched her as she left the restaurant. His mind reeled at the profound sadness that surrounded her. “I wish I could do that, Christian, but I'm too involved now.”

 

After a long walk, Jordan returned to the hotel room, to find Christian already asleep. The television's broadcast had ended and a dull tone beeped in the background.

He turned and smiled at Christian's sleeping form. At least she found peace in her dreams. He sat next to her on the bed and studied her delicate features. Beautiful, he thought, resisting the urge to caress her face.

Why was she so angry at the world? Why did she insist on fighting their attraction? Was there someone waiting for her in Amarillo? Jordan shook his head, tired of the same questions that twisted in his mind.

Prying the remote control from her left hand, his gaze caught the glimpse of a sheet of pink stationery in her hand. The heading read
Dear Bobby
.

His heart squeezed. Christian stretched languorously in the bed. Her eyes fluttered open and met his pensive stare.

“Oh, you're back,” she said, her voice groggy.

“Yeah.” He turned and switched off the TV.

Christian pulled herself up to look over at the clock. “It's one in the morning. Where have you been? I was worried about you.”

“I just went for a little walk,” he answered, refusing to look at her. He snatched a pair of boxers from his bag and headed toward the bathroom. He needed a shower.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No,” he answered in a curt tone, then shut the door.

Christian frowned, but had no choice but to wait until he had finished his shower to get some answers.

When the bathroom door flew open, Jordan breezed out with an unreadable expression. The sight of his bare chest and muscle-defined arms sparked something within her. She sucked in her bottom lip and willed her racing heart to slow its beat.

“Are you sure there's nothing wrong?” she asked when he snatched a pillow from the vacant spot beside her.

“Get some sleep, Christian, we have to head out in a few hours.”

Shocked and confused by his laconic tone, she watched helplessly as he unfolded the extra set of sheets delivered by housekeeping to make a pallet on the floor.

“Will you please talk to me?”

His sharp gaze riveted on her from across the room. “The queen of conversation is actually asking me to talk?”

His anger armed her defenses. “Forget it,” she said and reached over to turn off the lamp beside the bed.

Pale strips of moonlight filtered through the room's blinds, illuminating his body just before he settled onto the floor.

Christian didn't know what to make of his sudden transformation. She buried herself deeper in the sheets and stared up at the ceiling.

Tension layered the air as tears burned the backs of her eyes. Maybe it was better this way. At least now, it would make things easier for her when they separated in Texas.

She rolled to her side and punched her pillow. How could anything make parting from Jordan easier?

M
alcolm rubbed his eyes to clear his blurry vision. He leaned back and massaged the tension from his neck. Sunlight brightened the room, but did nothing to improve his mood. Looking at the paper-cluttered desk, he moaned and lowered his head into the palms of his hands.

Opulence's retail locations were well managed in terms of their controllable cost. The overheads were in order, but the bottom line was they weren't making money. He marveled once again how his father had kept this information from the family.

Clarence knocked, then entered. “I thought you might like some coffee.”

Malcolm managed a smile. “Thanks.”

“The movers will be here within the hour. I took the liberty of having the rest of your things packed this morning.”

“You're a godsend,” Malcolm said with a genuine smile.

“I'll remind you of that on the next holiday.”

“You do that.” Malcolm laughed, then tasted the coffee, relishing the jolt of caffeine to his system. He glanced at his watch. “I'm going to be late for work.”

He stood, carrying his mug. “Has Pop left yet?”

“Actually, he left quite early this morning,” Clarence answered, then left the office. “Can I get you anything else?”

“No, that will be all. Thanks.”

As Malcolm drank his coffee, his gaze skittered over the pile of paperwork. At one time Opulence dominated the industry. Now the company held less than twenty percent of the market share. In Malcolm's opinion, the company needed a face-lift.

He drained his cup and reached for the phone. He wanted to talk with Jordan. Regardless of what had happened between them over the weekend, they needed to band together and figure out a way to save their family's legacy.

He reached Jordan's answering machine and he hung up without leaving a message, then contemplated driving to his brother's apartment. Next, he called Alex, once again disappointed when he reached a machine. Where was everybody?

Much later in his office at Opulence, Malcolm skimmed over the notes he'd made last night, determined that there had to be something he could do to help his father and Opulence before the next board meeting.

He tossed the meaningless papers across the desk. Who was he fooling? The next meeting was tomorrow morning. Only a miracle could save them.

A quick rap on his door jarred him.

Daniel breezed into the room and removed his shades. “I don't believe it. My buddy actually has a job.” He looked around. “And in a nice office, too.”

Malcolm shook his head. “Do you mind shutting the door? I'm trying to do some work.”

Daniel smirked and closed the door. He slid his hands into the pants of his business suit and crossed over to the vacant chair in front of Malcolm's desk. “I have to admit, I'm impressed.”

“Last time I checked, it didn't take much,” Malcolm joked.

Flashing his best smile, Daniel crossed his legs at the ankles. “Now, I hope you're not still sore at me for dumping you at the club the other night. But what can I say?” He shrugged. “A brother got to get his groove on.”

Malcolm laughed. “So what brings you out to see me?

“Actually, I swung by your place and was surprised when Clarence told me that you'd moved out.”

“It's about time, if you ask me.”

“Did you go ahead and move into that place you bought for you and your fiancée?”

“Ex-fiancée,” Malcolm corrected.

“Yeah, I almost forgot. That had to be the shortest engagement ever recorded. Of course, I could have told you that you didn't stand a chance with her.”

“Oh? And how did you know?”

“She turned me down, didn't she?”

Malcolm laughed, grateful that his old pal could take his mind off business.

“So what's up?” Daniel asked. “You look like you've been hit by a Mack truck.”

“That's about how I feel. I've been up all night trying to come up with new ideas for the company. I think our problem is we're trying to maintain a traditional company. It's not speaking to the new generation or even being accessible to them. You know what I mean?”

“Maybe you should talk with your father about it,” Daniel suggested.

“The one thing I learned from my father is that you don't point out a problem without having a solution.”

“At least we've got something in common.” Daniel stood and walked over to the office's wide window. “Do you remember the retail chain I acquired in January?”

“Yeah. I still say it's the best acquisition your company has ever made.”

Daniel paced. “Only time will tell. But I see that I'm faced with the same problem you're experiencing: breaking tradition. This morning I made a difficult call and now it's a matter of waiting to see if I made the right decision.”

“Sounds intriguing.” Malcolm crossed his arms and peered at his friend. “Mind if I ask what this gutsy call was?”

For the next two hours the men discussed marketing plans for Daniel's clothing chain. As Malcolm listened, a new idea formed in his mind. “You know, buddy,” Malcolm declared, standing. When he reached the front of his desk, he leaned back against it and met Daniel's gaze. “I think we just might be able to help each other.”

 

Christian woke the next morning surprised to find the room empty. How long had Jordan been gone? She rubbed her tired eyes and glanced over at the clock.

She tossed back the sheets and slid out of bed. Accustomed to dressing quickly, she had everything packed and ready to leave within twenty minutes. When she set the last bag in front of the door, he returned.

“Good morning,” he greeted.

Gone were the traces of anger she had witnessed last night, but he still wasn't the happy-go-lucky man who had teased her over dinner.

“Thanks for getting everything ready. I had the car cleaned out before we hit the road.”

She nodded and noted that he had yet to make eye contact with her.

“There's a breakfast buffet downstairs if you want to grab something to eat before we leave. But I think we should leave within the hour. It looks like a storm is brewing.”

Christian remained quiet as Jordan grabbed their luggage. She stepped out into the hotel's hallway and contemplated how she was going to survive the next twenty-four hours with Jordan in such a sour mood.

She grabbed a muffin and a glass of orange juice before they hit the road. For the rest of the morning, dark clouds threatened a downpour, but it wasn't until late in the afternoon when the weather turned nasty.

Uncomfortable, Christian shifted in the passenger seat as she focused her attention on the book in her hand. She glanced out her window and frowned at the dark clouds dominating the sky. She quit wondering over Jordan's mood as lightning streaked and jagged. With each clap of thunder, her heartbeat raced, her breathing hitched, and a thin sheen of sweat moistened her hands.

Jordan shifted his attention from the road to look at her. “Are you okay?”

She nodded and kept her gaze glued to the pages before her, not comprehending a word she read.

“What are you reading?”

The note of concern edged his voice. She flipped the book over to its title.
“Defenseless,”
she answered, before returning to her marked page.

“Good book?”

“Uh-huh.” She forced an aloofness she didn't feel. At the next clap of thunder, she jumped, dropping her book onto the floor.

Jordan flinched from her violent reaction as sheets of rain pounded the car. He switched on the high beams, and the windshield wipers, then returned his attention to her. “Are you sure you're all right?”

With her eyes closed and a hand covering her heart, she nodded in response. She whispered a prayer, then opened her eyes. “Please keep your eyes on the road,” she said, surprised to find him watching her.

He blinked and straightened in his seat.

She looked out the window, but was unable to sit still. “Are you sure you can see?” she asked, her voice a low whisper.

He reached his free hand out to squeeze hers. “If you like, I can pull over and we can wait it out.”

She gripped his hand. At the next boom of thunder, he went to pull the car over into the emergency lane.

Two cars sped by them. Christian watched in horror as one lost control and hydroplaned along the wet asphalt. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as the car hit the guardrail then spun back toward them.

Christian clutched Jordan's hand and screamed.