by Bird, Peggy
“When do we start?” she asked.
He was still ready for her. “Right away.”
She could tell when Jordan said, “Right away,” he didn’t mean “tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll need to make arrangements,” she said.
He shot his arm out to look at his watch. “You can take half an hour,” he said with a sharp nod. Just like a businessman. Not even a thank you —
“I appreciate this,” he said, and gave her a warm smile, so unexpected that it took her to the count of ten to shake it off.
The first mate reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone and began making arrangements for her to accompany them on the flight to New York. A surge of happiness made Sadie want to hug someone, but looking at her options — pirate, first mate — she restrained herself. She loved New York. She’d been once during college and again a few years ago when she’d pulled together enough money to go visit college friends living upstate. She’d taken a train into Manhattan and spent a deliriously happy day shopping and eating and watching. You never know, Gran always said, and it turned out she was right.
Jordan also had his cell phone out and now he frowned at her and extended his arm to show her the watch. Time awastin’! She didn’t even care that he was being rude. She was going to New York for a week, maybe two or three, and there’d be a new roof for Aunt Gertrude at the end of it. Maybe other women would hold out for more but Sadie wasn’t greedy.
She took the precaution of turning the “open” sign to “closed” and locked the front door — not that she was expecting much in the way of customers in this downpour — then darted up the back stairs to her apartment on the top floor. She pulled a bag from the closet shelf. She didn’t have the right clothes for New York — her closet tended toward lace-and-pastel dresses and New York was a sleek black pantsuit city. Or at least it had been when she was there last, and she doubted it had changed significantly since. Oh well. What she had would have to do. Adventures didn’t always come with advance warning and a clothing allowance.
She grabbed the cordless phone and called Katie while she hunted in the bathroom for her travel cosmetic case. Seizing it, she began dumping her shampoo and toothbrush in while she explained to Katie what she needed. She’d close the shop for the afternoon — the place wasn’t exactly teeming with customers — and leave the key at the quilt shop next door for Katie to pick up in the morning.
“Family emergency,” she explained, leaving out the detail that it was not her family having the emergency.
Katie promised to keep things under control. She was a grad student, always thankful for any extra cash, plus she had no classes in August and thus had plenty of time to work, which at the moment seemed providential. Then Sadie called Aunt Gertrude, but she was out and Sadie had to leave a message on her voicemail, which was another good thing, because while Aunt Gertrude understood the need to get out and enjoy life, as she called it, she meant something like going to a dance on Friday night at the Knights of Columbus, not jetting off to New York with man she didn’t know to play a role in a family drama she probably hadn’t been told the entire truth about.
Must be a sign, Sadie thought. Good thing, too, because otherwise she would have to wonder what, exactly, she was doing, and more importantly, why.
Chapter Four
The town car pulled up in front of a hotel with an extremely imposing edifice. The Crystal and Rose, the sign said, and Sadie jolted upright. Surely Jordan wouldn’t put her up here? She was more a Holiday Inn person.
The first mate — whose name, it turned out, was Peter Barnes — came around to let Sadie out. She’d established his name by climbing into the front seat next to him on the way from the airport, holding out her hand and introducing herself.
Jordan had ignored her for the entire flight, working on his laptop or leafing through reports from his briefcase, and he’d turned on his phone the moment they stepped out of the terminal while Peter had gone around to retrieve the car from short-term parking. So when he’d pulled up, Sadie had gotten in the front, thinking if he ignored her, she could at least pretend it was because he was focused on driving, not because he was rude.
She didn’t think Jordan even noticed that she wasn’t sitting next to him. Apparently once a problem had been solved, it didn’t need any more attention. Sadie wished her problems would be that cooperative. She was starting to think she understood about the I’m not in a relationship where settling down is a possibility.
Now, standing in the Crystal and Rose lobby — which was twice the size of her entire bookstore — she said, “This is too much. I’m sure there are plenty of nice hotels in the area that aren’t nearly as pricey.” The bellhop coming over to collect her bag probably earned more in tips annually than she grossed at the store.
Between Gran and Aunt Gertrude, Sadie had learned her manners, but she was still a little intimidated by opulent surroundings. There just weren’t that many opulent surroundings in Cedar Valley, Ohio to have a good grasp of how to act in them. Having spent most of her life in a college town, she’d learned all about privilege and oppression, so she was also a little outraged at the wastefulness of it all.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Jordan said, which paradoxically was about the most reassuring thing he could have said to her. Clearly he thought she was capable of dealing with the opulent surroundings. Her somewhat daunted spirits were thankful he even remembered she was there and was willing to interact with her.
Straightening her shoulders, she reminded herself that he was a filthy rich businessman and he could afford it. And she would actually be pleased if the bellhop earned as much in tips as she grossed at the store, because everyone knew the cost of living in New York was quite high, and she rather liked to imagine him going home to his family and not having to worry too much about making ends meet. And even though Aunt Gertrude would tut at the extravagance of it all, she would want to hear every tiny detail. Sadie would have to remember to write things down. In the meantime, she was going to try to memorize all of her impressions.
Peter handed off the luggage to the bellhop and went to the front desk to check her in. Already she was going to miss Peter when he was gone. Having a first mate would be very useful. She could see why Jordan employed one.
Jordan finally tucked his phone away and said, “My mother’s surgery is in the morning,” which made her feel guilty for every bad thing she’d thought about him. Of course, he’d had to spend time on the phone finding out what was happening; of course he’d had to spend time on the plane doing his work so that he could be available for his mother. “I’ll visit her tonight. Then we’ll see about tomorrow. I’ll call you and let you know.”
With a pang, Sadie remembered why she was here. She put a hand on his arm, thinking inconsequentially and somewhat inanely that this was the first time she’d touched a businessman and liked it. “Why don’t I go with you tonight? If the whole purpose of our, um — ” She sought helplessly for the right word.
“Agreement,” he supplied, his face neutral.
“Right,” she said. Businessmen had agreements, not pinky swears or solemn pacts or blood vows. “If the whole purpose of our agreement is to reassure her that you’re well on the way to your happily ever after, shouldn’t we get started now?”
“If you’re sure?” Jordan gave her a head-to-toe once-over that brought a blush of red to her cheeks. She knew she was rumpled, but what did he expect? She’d spent the afternoon traveling and hadn’t even had time to comb her hair yet. Of course, he’d spent the afternoon traveling, too, and still looked yum. Damn.
“Hey, you picked me,” she pointed out, flustered and defensive, never a good combination. “If I don’t fit the part, that’s hardly my fault.”
“I was in a hurry,” he murmured.
She took a deep breath and counted to ten. Then ten again. Don’t take it personally. He’s just another difficult customer; you have a wealth of experience dealing with them. She counted to
ten a third time. And he pays a lot more than most. Okay, she was calm now.
“We’ll tell her we just came from the plane,” she said, more mildly than she felt. “I’m sure she’ll understand.” On the other hand, they were talking about the woman who’d given birth to and nurtured him, so maybe not. There was probably a reason why he was the way he was.
Before Jordan had a chance to reply, Peter came over with a key card and a room number for her. She thanked him and he gave her another gargoyle smile. Then she turned to Jordan and said, “Give me a couple of minutes to go to my room and freshen up.”
“Mmm,” Jordan said, cell phone in hand, thumb hovering over the number pad. “If this is going to work, you need a ring.”
She stalled, turning to stare at him.
“An engagement ring,” he explained.
He was going to pass her off as a fiancée? And he thought his mother would believe that, having never even heard him say Sadie’s name before? That didn’t seem possible.
Still, she understood his point. Why bother with a charade if you weren’t going to do it right? Having a girlfriend wasn’t going to make his mother think he was headed for a happily-ever-after. Having a fiancée might. And how did the saying go? Once you’d swallowed the elephant, why strain at the gnat?
Even so, she wondered how he thought this was going to work. She didn’t know the first thing about him. No one would ever believe it. Well, maybe his mother would be comforted by the fact that her son cared about making her happy. Unless the act made his mother worry that overwork had driven him round the bend.
“We must have had a whirlwind courtship,” she muttered. Gran and Gramps had, all those years ago. Sadie had always assumed this was because Gran wouldn’t put out without a ring on her hand and she supposed hormones had worked then just as they worked now. Did people even have whirlwind courtships anymore? Gran and Gramps had been in love, but they’d also been lucky.
Jordan dismissed her concern with a wave of his hand. “I’ve been to the university several times for meetings. We can just let it be believed that I met you on one of my earlier visits.”
Her lips tightened. She hated lying, mostly because she was so bad at it. But what was this … agreement except for a big, fat lie? A kind one, maybe, but still a big, fat lie. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. She wondered how many other trite sayings she could think of to bolster her courage. She should have brought Bartlett’s book of quotations, which would be handy for leafing through about now. If only she’d thought to have it on hand, she’d be able to look up any number of adages that would support her in this big, fat lie.
“All right,” she said. “As far as the ring goes, we’re at the Crystal and Rose. I’m sure the concierge can arrange anything. I’m going up to brush my hair and wash my face. I’ll be back down in ten minutes.”
• • •
Jordan watched Sadie head toward the elevator, her surreptitious glances at her opulent surroundings not very surreptitious. He probably should have realized a shop girl — saleswoman — from Cedar Valley, Ohio, no matter how well-read, was going to be entirely out of place here. And he should have taken ten minutes for a background check, but he’d been in such a damned hurry to wrap it up and get on the plane that he hadn’t bothered to stop and think. An argument for buying his own jet, like Randall was always telling him he should do. But Jordan had never had any interest in stroking his own ego that way. His business decisions were made based on data and closely reasoned analysis, not hubris. Which was all well and good, but this — he watched the elevator doors close behind Sadie — this was the kind of thing that happened when a man didn’t have time — or take time — to stop and consider the ramifications of his actions.
Peter was staring at the closed elevator doors as if perhaps, he, too, had been contemplating Sadie’s backside. Like Sadie, Peter looked out of place in the lobby, as if he had wandered in from the Mafia convention by mistake. Jordan glanced around. Did any of the people in the lobby look like they belonged here, other than the desk clerk?
“What do you think?” he asked Peter.
“You don’t pay me to think,” Peter said, and cracked his knuckles. As far as Jordan knew, Peter had never punched anyone in his life, but he gave every evidence that he could bring it if he had to. So far no one had called his bluff, not even Jordan.
“If I did pay you to think, what would your opinion be?”
“Of?”
“Of the new carpeting in the lobby,” Jordan said, not doing a very good job of keeping the impatience out of his voice. Not that he was trying.
“Then you’re asking me my opinion of Ms. Sadie Rose Perkins.”
How had Peter learned her middle name? Jordan had a faint memory of her introducing herself to the driver. “Yes. Ms. Sadie Rose Perkins,” he said, trying out the words. They fit her perfectly. What they did not fit at all was him.
Peter shook his head. “You don’t need my opinion to know you’re nuts.”
Well, Peter was always direct. “We aren’t talking about me,” Jordan said mildly.
Peter acknowledged the point with a grunt and a shake of his head. He jerked his chin in the direction of the elevator, although Sadie had long since disappeared from view. “She’s nice.”
She’s nice. Not exactly the main quality he’d ever looked for in a woman before. Jordan supposed it was better than She’s as nasty as a pit viper. Although there was no danger of getting emotionally involved with a pit viper.
Not that there was any danger of getting emotionally involved with Ms. Sadie Rose Perkins, either.
“Is she believable?” he asked.
“You mean as a love interest?” Scorn dripped from Peter’s voice. But Jordan was used to Peter being scornful; it was a natural adjunct to his nosiness.
“Yes, as a love interest.”
Peter gave him a look. “Yeah, she’s believable. If you were a college professor. Or me.”
That explained Peter’s appreciation of her backside. Jordan lifted a brow. “She looks like a gun moll?”
Peter was offended. “I’m not the kind of man who goes around with a gun moll, Mr. Blaise.”
Maybe in another ten years Peter would learn to tell the difference between Jordan being serious and Jordan making a joke. Although maybe not. Jordan nodded. His phone rang and he glanced at the display. A call he needed to take. “Would you mind telling the concierge what I need?”
“No sweat,” Peter said, and left him alone.
• • •
Sadie’s lips tightened as she stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby. Jordan was on his cell phone, his neck bent, his back turned toward her. It would probably kill him to be parted from the phone for more than five minutes. He would go into classic withdrawal, dry mouth, cold sweats, racing heart. Who knew what deals might be made in his absence? The risk was clearly not to be borne.
She moved across the wide expanse of the patterned burgundy carpet toward him, pretending that she was the long-lost princess of — Monaco? Or maybe she should make someplace up — and she was on her way to — the story was rudely interrupted by the cadaverous-looking concierge who had drifted over from his desk to intercept her.
“If you’ll step into the manager’s office, he’ll show you a selection of rings,” the cadaver murmured.
Sadie shot a glance at Jordan’s turned back. Obviously he wasn’t going to be involved in the ring-choosing ceremony. If they were really getting married, would he delegate the honeymoon, too? But of course they weren’t really getting married, and this was just part of the job. She might as well get it over with as quickly as possible.
“Thank you,” Sadie said politely to the concierge. She squinted at his name tag, a plain silver bar that did not say anything so common as “Bob” but rather announced him as “Mr. Perrot.” It wasn’t Mr. Perrot’s fault everything Jordan did rubbed her the wrong way. It would rub any woman the wrong way. She was starting to see why he’d never been married
. You had to —
You have to get your nose out of that book if you want to make friends, Sadie.
Sadie sighed. It was much more pleasant to be judgmental when you weren’t so drattedly self-aware. She turned and followed the concierge to a highly polished walnut door set in an alcove near the registration desk. The door opened into a short hall, with three closed doors. What lay beyond the doors? Ever since she’d read “The Lady or the Tiger?” in grade school — although, really, had that been an appropriate choice to assign to nine-year-olds? — Sadie had found closed doors unbearably exciting. Unless of course it was her own closed door, and then she knew it simply hid her unmade bed from view.
The concierge knocked on the last of the doors, then opened it and ushered her inside to an oak-paneled inner sanctum. There was no sign on the door but she could guess this was the manager’s office. She was pretty sure there was enough paneling in this room to build an ark, which she was going to need back in Cedar Valley if the rain didn’t let up soon. She probably had a how-to book in stock that would give plans.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Perkins,” said a stout bald man, coming around the desk. The lush elegance of his surroundings had caused him to fade into the background, so Sadie started a little when he spoke. This must be the manager. He gave a broad smile, and extended a hand for her to shake. She supposed his pleasant manner had as much to do with Jordan being a good client as with his being personally happy to meet her, but even if he had an ulterior motive, she was just as glad he made the attempt to be friendly. He wasn’t going to spend all their time together on a cell phone.
“May I get you anything? Coffee? A soda?”
Sadie shook her head and the manager glanced at the concierge, who murmured his excuses and withdrew. Apparently if you trained your people well enough, you didn’t have to say anything to them, they just did what you wanted them to do. When she got home, Sadie was going to try that with Katie, just arch her brow and see if Katie knew what that meant. Of course, neither of them would be able to keep a straight face.
