Finding Forever (3 page)

That was the way she wanted it, right? Except something gnawed at her. She sat up in bed and wrapped the sheet around her. “Carl?”

He zipped his jeans and reached for his shirt. “Hmm?”

“Do you ever want more than...”
Than what? Being fuck buddies?
She waved her hand around. “This.”

“Not really, no.” He didn’t even hesitate before answering. “I told you, I did forever once. It didn’t work out. I have lower expectations now.”

Lower expectations? Jordan knew he didn’t mean it as a slight, but it was hard not to take it as one.

Carl bent down and kissed her forehead. “I’ll call you in a few days, okay?”

“Sure, okay.” Jordan listened as he let himself out of her house. Before long, Cujo made her way into room and jumped on the bed.
See. It’s not like I’m ever actually alone!

Something about Beth’s words lingered, though. Carl’s feelings made sense. He’d been married, and it ended badly. Jordan didn’t fault him for not wanting to do it again.

She’d never done the forever thing before, though. She’d never even gotten close; never let herself get close. As Jordan thought about why, she realized that Beth was annoyingly right, and she hated when Beth was right.

“Fine!” She tossed the sheet aside, jumped out of bed and pulled a T-shirt on as she walked down the hall. She pulled the local phone directory from the drawer in the coffee table, then grabbed the cordless phone.

At the third hotel she dialed, she found success. Jake Morrison was registered there and the reception desk connected her to his room. The phone line rang through with no answer and went to the message system. Jordan looked at the clock. Almost ten, and he wasn’t in his room. Chances were he’d found someone else to spend time with and had already forgotten about Jordan, just as she’d told him to do. She should hang up.

See, Beth. I was right about what he wanted, and he found it somewhere else.
Or maybe he had an early set call and turned the phone off to get some sleep.
Don’t automatically assume the worst about someone, Jordan. You don’t like it when people do that to you.

“Jake, it’s Jordan. I hope things are going well with the movie. I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have blindsided you like that. We probably should talk, if you’re still interested. Give me a call.” She was shaking by the time she left both her home and cell numbers and hung up, hoping she hadn’t made a huge mistake.

Jordan changed clothes three times and still couldn’t decide what to wear.

“Try this.” Beth handed her a blue kimono-style blouse. “It matches your eyes, and it’ll look great with the white jeans.”

Jordan took the top from her. “Thanks.” She pulled it over her head and stepped back to study herself in the mirror. “Hmm. Not bad.” She tucked a wayward strand of blond
e hair behind her ear.

“Are you kidding?” Beth scoffed. “You look gorgeous. So much so that if I didn’t like you so much, I might hate you.” She sat down on the bed. “As it is, I just hate that you can get away with wearing wear blue.”

Jordan glanced over at her friend’s red curls. “Yes, but you can wear brown, so it balances out.” She walked over to the shoe rack to select a pair of sandals. “I look like a dead ghost in brown.”

“It’s not quite that bad.” Beth laughed. “By the way, I love how nervous you are right now.”

“I’m not nervous,” Jordan insisted as she grabbed a pair of mid-heel Catatude sandals in the same shade of blue as the blouse. ‘Scared to death’ would be more accurate, but no way was she admitting that. “Why would I be nervous?”

“Um, maybe because you have a date with a sexy movie star?”

Movie star. It was still a little hard for Jordan to wrap her head around that, even though she’d always suspected Jake might have what it took to eventually make it big. Not that she was any great judge of talent. She just knew she enjoyed watching him, and he seemed to bring a certain depth to every role he played. “It’s not a date.”

“Sure.” Beth rolled her eyes. “What exactly would you call it, then?”

“Getting together for dinner with someone I used to know in order to explain all of the reasons why we should not be in each other’s lives.” She’d compiled a list of reasons in her head so she had them ready and could not be persuaded otherwise, not that she expected it to be a problem. It took Jake three days to return her call. Jordan was fairly certain he’d already come to the same conclusion and called her only out of courtesy so they could say goodbye.

“You go right on telling yourself that.” Beth’s tone was mocking.

“I will. Because it’s the truth.”

“You know, when I first went out with Aaron, I insisted it wasn’t a date, either,” Beth said. “That was thirteen years ago.”

***

Jake walked into the restaurant and scanned the seating area. No sign of Jordan yet, so he made his way to a corner booth. The red vinyl was worn, a piece of red duct tape slapped hastily over a tear. The linoleum of the table was chipped, but at least clean.

When Jordan suggested a local restaurant to meet at, he’d expected something a little more upscale. Then again, maybe he shouldn’t be surprised. Jordan always struck him as a complicated woman. In a town where almost everyone was shallow, complicated appealed to him. He wanted to know her better. Unfortunately, just when Jake thought he’d get the chance, Jordan shut him out. He’d never understood why until she dragged him along to her meeting a few nights before.

Her parting words seemed final enough that he was surprised to get back to his hotel after a long night sitting on the border with Agent Camacho to find a message from her. He wanted to call her back right away, but figured maybe two o’clock in the morning wouldn’t be the best time. Then he got caught up in long hours on the set, and three days passed before he could return the call. When she suggested they meet for dinner, he jumped at the chance.

A laminated menu landed on the table in front of him, jolting him from his thoughts.

“Welcome to Joey’s,” a college-aged kid said. “Do you know what you want to drink?”

Jake hesitated. He knew what he wanted, but it probably wasn’t a good idea to order it. “Just a Coke, thanks,” he said. “I’m waiting for a friend, then we’ll order.” He picked up the menu and flipped through it as the waiter walked away.

“If you like pizza, it’s the best in town.” Jordan slid into the other side of the boo
th.

“Pizza’s good.” Jake greeted her with a smile. “You look great,” he said, but that certainly wasn’t a shock. He still remembered the day he first walked into her office in Los Angeles to discuss his contract, surprised that lawyers could look like her. Fortunately, he’d kept that opinion to himself and stammered through the initial meeting, finding it difficult to concentrate on the contract.

Jordan nodded. “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Jake glanced down at his gray slacks and button
-down shirt. “A little over-dressed, maybe.”

“Yeah, I probably should have told you this place was pretty casual,” she said. “It’s nice to see a guy in something other than jeans and boots, though. I like a well-dressed man.” Her lips turned upward in a smile that reached all the way to her eyes. A real smile, not the phony Hollywood kind. Jake hadn’t seen one of those in a while.

“So you deliberately withheld information about what kind of place this was, hoping I’d dress up?”

“Maybe.” She shrugged.

The waiter plunked Jake’s Coke down in front of him. “For you, Miss?” he asked Jordan.

“Diet Coke.” She nodded in the direction of Jake’s drink. “I hope you didn’t settle for that on my account.”

“No, I just...”

She shook her head. “Don’t.” She looked up at the waiter. “Bring him a beer,” she said. “And we’ll have a large pepperoni. Breadsticks, too.”

“You got it,” the waiter said before sauntering off.

“Jordan, what are you doing?” Jake stared at her.

“Ordering dinner. And a beer for you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m sure you want one.”

He did, yes. He just hadn’t
ordered one out of respect for her. Now it looked like that was somehow the wrong choice. Would he ever get it right with her? “Yes, but...”

“Be yourself, Jake,” she said. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do something different on account of me. This is never going to work out if you do.”

He arched an eyebrow up. “What’s never going to work out?” A few days ago, she ordered him out of her life. Now she acted like she wanted him in. Women. Jake doubted he’d ever figure them out.

***

The waiter returned with their drinks, giving Jordan a chance to catch her breath and try to organize her thoughts. What the hell was wrong with her? She was supposed to come here, recite her prepared list of reasons why Jake should forget about her, then make a quiet exit with her dignity still intact.

Instead, she took one look at him and started flirting.
I like a well-dressed man?
She sounded like something out of one of those soap operas Jake used to star in. It was the eyes, Jordan decided. His eyes were the color of storm clouds, and they’d always left her with a lingering curiosity about what lurked behind them. Danger, or the quiet calm that followed a storm?

“What do you want from me, Jake?” She sipped Diet Coke from a straw. “Because from where I’m sitting, it’s hard to figure out. I’m older than you and I come with a heck of a lot of baggage.” Did she dare to let herself hope that maybe Jake was different from other men, who seemed to only want one thing and then lost interest once they got it?

Jake looked at her, then at the beer bottle, then back at her. Probably wondering if he should drink it, she decided. If he ignored it and reached for the Coke, she’d add it as one more reason why all of this was a bad idea. She made him too self-conscious.

He picked up the beer and took a drink. “How old are you, anyway?”

It was a question that could irritate a woman, but since she was the one that put age out there, Jordan really couldn’t be offended. “Thirty-eight.”

Jake nodded. “I’m thirty-four, so not much difference. Besides, I’ve had the poor judgment of dating a twenty-year old. It’s not a mistake I intend to repeat,” he said. “As for baggage, we all carry some with us. I’m pretty sure yours is designer, at least.”

His face broke out in a devilish grin, causing Jordan to laugh. “Would you expect anything less?” she asked.

“From you, never.” He tipped the bottle to his lips. “I want to get to know you better, Jordan. It’s as simple as that.”

He called it simple. To her, it was anything but. “Why? What have I ever given you that was so memorable as to make you want to know me?”

“Are you serious?” Jake asked.

Before Jordan could answer, their dinner arrived. Grateful for the distraction, she reached for a slice of pizza and set it on her plate, then sprinkled parmesan on it.

When their server asked if they needed anything else, Jake waved him away.

“I’ll take your silence as a ‘yes.’” Jake grabbed his own slice, but didn’t take a bite.  “Fine. You always intrigued me. You had a body that didn’t stop, and the face to match, yet you disarmed me with the things you said. You still do. In a town full of shallow, you actually seemed deep. And you seemed to give a crap what happened to me, which is more than I can say for a lot of folks.” He took a bite of pizza and washed it down with a swallow of beer. “The last time we talked, when you were leaving your job in California, do you remember what you said to me?”

Jordan remembered as if it were yesterday, yet still she paused, playing with the straw in her drink. She’d packed up her office, preparing to leave Los Angeles to return to Texas for her law school reunion. With her mother gone, the only thing remaining in California was a bunch of failed dreams, and she had amends to make in Texas. She’d hoped to make a quiet exit and never look back, but as she waited for the elevator, she ran into Jake, and he’d flashed that adorable smile and told her he
’d landed a contract role on
General Hospital
. “I told you not to let that town—Hollywood—kill you. I saw too many talented people fall prey to self-destructiveness and addiction,” she said. “I didn’t want that to happen to you. I didn’t want it to happen to me, either. That’s why I had to get out.”

Jake nodded as he took another bite of pizza. “Do you want to talk about it now; about what happened? Because I don’t think I got the full story at the meeting the other day.”

He hadn’t, no. She’d said a little, used it as a segue to get the others talking, and it made for an effective meeting. It didn’t, however, give Jake the explanation he deserved. “How much do you remember about the last night we spent together?” She figured it was a fair question, considering the amount of Absolut Citron they’d imbibed that night.

“I remember I’d come from another failed audition,” Jake said. “
Passions
was going off the air, and I didn’t know what my next job would be. I was afraid I might have to go back to Iowa and get a job at the tractor plant.” He leaned back in the booth. “You called me up, asked me to come over. If I recall, your mom was sick. Alzheimer’s, right?”

“Yes.” Jordan had to give him credit. He remembered more than she expected. Maybe she’d been too quick to dismiss him as the Hollywood party boy. “On that particular night, I’d gone to see her in the nursing home. She had no idea who I was.” Jordan blinked hard, the memory still vivid in her mind. “I needed to drink to forget it. I did that a lot back then, usually with very little success,” she said wryly. Jordan reached for another slice of pizza. She’d be at the gym at 6 a.m. ready to work it off. She was seven years sober and still fit into a size six. Something must be working.

“We hit it a little hard, and you were late for work.”

‘A little hard’ was an understatement, but Jordan didn’t correct him. “My boss called me into his office, gave me the what for. He probably should have fired me,” she said. “Instead, he put me on leave and told me to get help. I started treatment a week later.”

“And every time I went by the office after that, I met with a different attorney.”

“I didn’t trust myself with you.” Jordan thought about the number of times she
’d wanted to call him, but didn’t follow through. “My recovery was fragile for a long time.”

Jake nodded. “Okay, I can accept that. It sucks, but I can accept it.”

“Four years ago, my mom died. There was nothing left for me in California, so I came back here,” Jordan explained. “I went to school here, and it was time for my class reunion. It gave me a purpose.” At the time, she needed to focus on the making amends part of her program. It worked, because she now counted Beth as one of her closest friends. “I decided to stay.”

“And you’re happy?” Jake asked. “Doing okay?”

They weren’t the same question, but Jordan nodded. “I’m fine now. My law practice is going well.”

“And this doesn’t bother you?” Jake pointed in the direction of the beer bottle.

“Not really, no.” If she were feeling weak, depressed, vulnerable, staring at that bottle might be one hell of a trigger. Sitting here with Jake, sharing a pizza as they caught up on their lives, Jordan hardly noticed it. “I actually feel pretty strong right now.”

“That Carl guy from the meeting?” Jake wanted to know. “Is he someone special to you?”

“No.” Carl had made that perfectly clear. He had low expectations, and apparently Jordan fit that bill perfectly. “He’s a friend, that’s all.”

“So there’s nothing stopping you from getting to know me better.” He smiled, revealing the dimples. Those darn dimples.