I Promise (8 page)

J
ordan placed two steaming cups of coffee on the small circular table. “The next flight is booked solid.”

Christian inhaled her cappuccino's sweet aroma, then frowned as she looked up at him. “What good would it do if there is a vacant seat? They'll never let me board without proper ID.”

Jordan lowered his large frame into a narrow cast-iron chair.

She choked down her amusement.

“Don't you dare laugh,” he warned.

“I wouldn't dare dream of it,” she answered with a straight face and contrived innocence.

His expression suggested that he didn't buy her act, but his lips curved as he sat down and the chair wobbled with an uneven leg.

Christian laughed.

“You lied.” Jordan grinned.

“Sorry.” She dropped her gaze and busied herself with preparing her coffee with cream and sugar.

They fell silent while the airport's crowd grew louder by the second. Each sat lost in their thoughts.

“So what do you want to do?” Jordan asked above the noise.

She shook her head. “I don't know.” Releasing a long breath, she concluded that she would have to wait to return home. “To tell you the truth, I wish that I could just crawl back in bed and start this day over.”

Worry lines creased Jordan's forehead. “There has to be something we can do.”

“I really don't have too many options. I lost everything. My driver's license, credit cards, you name it.”

“Did you call your bank?”

“Yeah, which means even if the airport security guys do find that little hoodlum, my cards are worthless to me.”

“Any cash?”

“Are you kidding? I just graduated from college. I'm lucky if I had twenty bucks in there.”

Jordan laughed.

“By the way, thanks for the coffee.”

“Don't mention it.”

Christian smiled, but soon sank deeper into her troubled thoughts. “Let's face it,” she said. “If they don't find him, without identification, I can't do much of anything, much less board a plane. I can't even rent a car.”

“Wait.” Jordan perked up. “My father has a plane.” He hesitated then frowned. “And Marty used it to fly out to New York this morning.”

Christian's shoulders slumped. “Great. I guess I'm stuck here.”

“Why don't I rent a car for you?”

“Thanks, but that won't work either.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I get pulled over for anything, my butt is going to jail. As in ‘Do not pass go. Do not collect your two hundred dollars.' I don't want to take any chances, especially since I'll be traveling through some rough parts of Mississippi.”

Laughing, Jordan shook his head. “Okay. Bad idea.”

“I just wish I could reach Bobby.”

“Bobby?” His brows furrowed. “Is that your—”

“What?” she asked with a smile in her voice.

“Come on. Don't play coy with me.” He leveled his serious gaze with her jovial one. “Is this Bobby the real reason you broke up with my brother?”

Christian opened her mouth to protest, then thought better of it. Crossing her arms, she mimicked his sober expression and answered in a firm voice, “That is none of your business, Mr. Williams.”

As if realizing he'd crossed an invisible line into her privacy, he held up his hands in mock surrender. “Forgive me. I didn't mean to pry.”

“Yes, you did,” she replied, her stern expression relaxed and once again, he noticed the laughter in her eyes.

“I have to admit, Ms. McKinley, you're quite a puzzle. You intrigue me.”

“You ain't a bad jigsaw yourself.”

The quick rebuttal evoked another rumble of laughter from him. “All right. Back to our problem. How are we going to get you home?”

Christian took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “I can always take up hitchhiking.”

He smiled. “Seriously.”

She shrugged. “I'm all out of ideas, Jordan.”

“What's the big rush? Why do you need to get back today? Why not wait until you can reach someone at home and they can get you copies of the information you need in order to get a new ID?”

“That looks like what I'm going to have to do now.” Christian's smile vanished.

Jordan gazed through the Plexiglas, watching the crowd. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere, including himself. His father's motto of always staying one step ahead of the competition, had fermented in his subconscious at an early age. He shook his head and reined in his wandering thoughts.

“You know—I could drive you there myself,” he offered.

Christian jerked her head up, a frown already tilting the corners of her mouth. “You've got to be kidding.”

“Why not?” he asked, crossing his arms, offended by her dismal tone.

“I can think of one good reason. Can't you?”

“Malcolm?”

She nodded.

“I thought it was over between you two.”

“We were never an item.”

“Then what's the problem?”

“You're serious.” Christian leaned back in her chair.

At his casual shrug, she added, “For the last two nights, I've been under the impression that you were sorry about hurting your brother, by tricking me into kissing you in the gardens.”

Jordan paused, then chose his words carefully as he maintained eye contact. “I love Malcolm. Make no mistake about that. I never meant to hurt him. But as far as being sorry for kissing you…never.”

Christian's body warmed. She averted her gaze and tried to think of something to change the subject.

“I didn't mean to embarrass you.”

She forbade her body to react to his voice's rich timbre, but she couldn't command her eyes to meet his when she answered, “You didn't embarrass me.”

He laughed at the obvious lie, then shifted the subject to the problem at hand. “The way I look at it, you have two choices. You can either wait, or take a road trip.”

“Do you know how many days it takes to get to Amarillo?”

“I don't know. I've never visited the Lone Star State myself. How long do you reckon?”

Playfully, she punched his arm for his bad Texas drawl. “Try three days. Do you honestly want to trek across the country, cramped in a car, during one of the hottest summers ever recorded?”

“I'm game if you are.” His grin widened.

“You're crazy and I'm crazy to consider it.”

“But you are, aren't you?”

She didn't reply.

“What are you afraid of? I don't bite.”

“You can't prove it by me. And I'm not afraid of you.”

Tension thickened the growing silence that spanned between them.

“Don't you have a job to go to?” she asked, seeking a way out of his subtle challenge.

“Nope. I'm my own boss.”

“I don't have any money.”

“I'll bill you.”

“What about lodging?”

“I'll take care of it.”

“Separate rooms.”

“Of course.”

“What about—”

“Are you always this difficult?”

She clamped her jaws shut, but not for long. “Are you always this forceful?”

“Yes.”

Trapped, frustrated, and out of excuses, she knew that she would either have to put up or shut up.

“Well?”

“All right. You're on.”

 

Malcolm zipped down Fourteenth Street as the sun cut through the clouds to pierce his eyes and rejuvenate the hangover he'd fought off with a greasy breakfast and massive quantities of caffeine. He reached over Alex's legs and withdrew a pair of sunglasses from the glove compartment.

Alex said nothing as she rode next to him and watched the passing scenery without seeing it.

“You're awfully quiet this morning.” Malcolm said, swinging his free arm around the back of her headrest.

“I guess I don't have much to say.”

“I guess it's a good thing I came over this morning or you wouldn't have been able to get to work when your car wouldn't start.”

“Yeah. Lucky me.”

Malcolm changed lanes without the use of his turn signal. A car horn blared behind him and set a thousand hammers pounding inside his head.

“I really wish you'd learn how to drive.” Alex griped. The thought of an accident had her fastening her seat belt.

He ignored the desire to rub the ache at his temples. “Is there something wrong? Did I do something to you?”

She expelled a long sigh and shook her head, but her clenched jaws didn't go unnoticed.

“Look, if I did do something, or said something last night to hurt your feelings, I'm sorry.”

She remained silent.

“I mean it. I had too much to drink and we both know I did some things I regret.”

She made no response.

Malcolm turned onto Jennifer Street, then idled at a stoplight. He shifted into park, then pivoted in his seat to face her.

Alex stared straight ahead. The long, excruciating drive to Opulence couldn't possibly get any worse.

“I thought we were close enough to talk about anything,” he said, reaching a hand out to brush a lock of her hair behind her ear.

“The light's green,” she informed him in a deadpan voice.

Vexed, he turned back in his seat and shifted into drive. The car's wheels squealed as he peeled off.

Alex chanced a look at him, her frustration exploded. “Will you drive like you have some sense?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“You really don't have a clue, do you?”

Malcolm peered at her, his own frustration evident in his gaze.

“Pull over,” she demanded sharply.

His brows stretched upward. “What?”

“Pull over, damn it.”

Stunned, he did as she ordered.

She unfastened her seat belt, then grabbed her gym bag and purse in a whirl of motion.

“Are you going to tell me what I've done?”

She pressed the unlock button.

He locked it back before she could open the door. “What is your problem?” he bellowed. The volume of his own voice stabbed needles into his brain.

“You're my problem,” she fired back. “This whole situation is my problem.” She unlocked the door again.

He locked it. “What the hell did I do?”

“Let me out,” she screamed.

“Not until you talk to me,” he lowered his voice, but didn't change his agitated tone.

“We have nothing to talk about.”

Malcolm killed the engine, then turned and grabbed her by the shoulders.

Reacting like a caged animal, she jerked back as her hand lashed out across his cheek.

Shocked, he released her.

She won the battle for her freedom and the war with the locks, as she bound out of the car and slammed the door in her wake.

“Alex, wait.” Malcolm jumped from the car and rushed after her. When he caught up to her, he snatched her by the wrist and jerked her around to face him.

She struggled to break his iron grip.

A few curious gazes turned their way, but no one came to her aid. “Let me go.”

“No,” his voice thundered.

She stilled her movements and confronted his questioning gaze. She'd had enough. It no longer made sense for her to wait quietly on the sidelines to watch him bounce from one woman to the next, while she nursed a broken heart.

“Please, let me go,” she requested calmly.

Their eyes locked. The air between them charged with enough electricity to make hair stand on end.

“I'm not letting you go until you tell me what is wrong with you.”

C
hristian stepped into Jordan's spacious high-rise apartment, amazed by the few pieces of furniture. She expected more from him, maybe something bold, arrogant, yet sophisticated. Instead, his place was simple. “So this is your apartment?”

“Are you that disappointed?” He removed his shades and peered down at her.

“Quite the opposite, I assure you.” She smiled and moved farther into his home. Black-and-white photographs of Atlanta's Auburn Avenue in its heyday, monopolized a bookcase along with framed political leaders Martin Luther King, Jr., and Malcolm X.

Tossing his keys down on a nearby table, Jordan gestured for her to walk ahead of him. “It won't take me long to pack a few things. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Actually, I'm dying of thirst.”

“What would you like?” he asked, dashing into the kitchen. “I'm a bit thirsty myself.”

“Water will be fine,” she called out, then stopped when she reached the archway to the living room. One sofa, a glass coffee table, and a Persian rug were all that occupied the large room.

“Here you go.”

Christian jumped, slapping her hand over her heart.

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

She accepted the outstretched glass while sharing a fading smile. “That's all right. Did you just move here?”

“Yeah, about three years ago.” His rich laughter washed over her like a powerful tidal wave. Her knees weakened at the flash of his two dimples and she was suddenly aware of how close they stood.

“It's okay. I'm asked that question a lot. I keep telling myself that one day I'm going to decorate this place, but I haven't found the time just yet.” He held her gaze. “Maybe all it needs is a woman's touch.”

How she remained standing was a mystery. Her gaze lowered and she took a sip of water. “I guess Opulence is keeping you on your toes.” It was the only thing she could think to say. Her brows furrowed in confusion at the sullen expression that crossed his features then disappeared. For a moment, she thought she had imagined it.

“That and having my own business on the side.”

“You have your own business, too?” Christian asked, amazed. She sipped her drink, grateful for its coolness as it slid down her throat. Pride gleamed in his eyes.

“Yeah. And as of now it's my only full-time job.”

“You're no longer with Opulence?”

This time, she didn't mistake the melancholia that possessed his features.

“I'm afraid not.”

Unsure of what to say, Christian pulled her gaze away and took another glance around her, while nodding her head. “Actually, I think this place fits you just the way it is.”

“Really?” Jordan crossed his arms. “And why do you say that?”

“It's evolving.” She returned her eyes to his. “I have a feeling you're doing the same thing.”

They shared a kind smile as their gazes locked. A strange emotion fluttered in her stomach and she was certain that he could hear the loud pounding of her heart.

“I'd better go and pack,” he murmured.

Christian nodded.

Jordan didn't move.

Neither did she.

His tender gaze caressed her face. Then she made the fatal mistake that always seemed to do her in. Her eyes lowered to his lips. Her knees quivered but the weakness never made it to her head.

Once again, the memory of their kiss flooded her mind, desire twisted in her body. A hunger she had only discovered in the short time that she had known him returned and threatened to destroy her.

Jordan's emotions warred. His mind screamed for him to go slow. One false move could scare her away, but his heart wanted him to seize the moment. Had he imagined that magical moment in the gardens?

Were her lips still as sweet as he remembered? Was her skin as soft? There was one way to find out. His head descended.

The loud shrill of the telephone jolted him back into reality.

Jordan blinked, momentarily at a loss for words.

The phone rang again.

“Excuse me for a moment.”

When he turned away, Christian released the rush of air that had been trapped in her lungs. She leaned weakly against the archway. This wasn't a good sign. What had possessed her to agree to drive cross-country with this man?

“Calm down, Charlotte,” Jordan said, smiling into the phone. “Yes, I know that this is a weird time to take a vacation. But I have every confidence that Quentin and Lewis can take care of things while I'm gone.” He turned so he could continue to watch Christian out of the corner of his eye.

“You're overexaggerating. I won't be gone long. A week at best.”

Christian finished her water, then rubbed the sweating glass across her forehead.

Jordan's gaze lowered and assessed her long, shapely legs. She had well-defined, muscled calves and he wondered whether she had trained as a dancer.

His gaze traveled higher to study the definitions of her backside.

“Jordan are you there?” Charlotte shouted into the phone.

“Yeah. Yeah. I'm here.”

“Why are you breathing so heavily?”

“I—I'm in a hurry to get packed and everything. You don't mind telling the guys in the office I'll be gone for a week, do you?”

“Sure. No problem. But if you ask me, this is no way to start our first real week of business.”

Jordan laughed. “Remind me not to ask you.”

When he returned to the living room, he found Christian seated on the sofa, flipping through the spread of magazines from the coffee table.

“Just give me a few minutes and we can finally get this show on the road.”

She smiled. When he left her alone, she dispensed a sigh of relief and rolled her eyes heavenward. “God give me strength.”

 

Alex's courage abandoned her as she met Malcolm's curious stare. Her vision blurred and she pulled her body erect. The right thing to do never came easy.

“Talk to me,” Malcolm urged.

“I don't understand why you can't see what's right in front of you,” she answered, her voice hitched.

He lowered his hand and stared at her.

The thought of rejection pierced her heart like a sharp knife. “I'm running late for my photo shoot,” she changed the subject.

“What are you trying to tell me, Alex?”

She couldn't guess the direction of his thoughts. And she didn't care. As more people crowded around them, she made a decision.

“I think maybe we should have this conversation later.”

“I think we should have it now.”

“I'm not ready,” she answered honestly and glanced over her shoulder. “I'll walk the rest of the way.”

“Come on, that's not necessary. Let's get back into the car.”

Alex shook her head and slung both her purse and her tote bag over her shoulder. “That won't be necessary.” Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked off. She waited for him to stop her again. She even hoped that he would, but when she reached the first crosswalk, her hope diminished.