Spring Into Love

by Chantel Rhondeau

  Jake was completely different. He wasn’t using her. The sex was great, and Jordan knew she pleased him, but he seemed interested in more. He seemed interested in her, and that thrilled her and surprised her. It also scared her to death.

  “Well, duh,” Beth said. “Did the chocolate flan work?”

  “Do you even need to ask?” Jen looked at Beth, her expression aghast. “My abuela says the only time chocolate flan doesn’t work is if a man is allergic to chocolate or not interested in women.” She unwrapped her sandwich “You know, if he’s...” She waved her hand in the air. “You know.”

  Jordan had a hard time picturing Jen’s grandmother saying such a thing. “I know, yes. And trust me, Jake is definitely into women.” A self-satisfied smile formed on her face. “You can tell your grandmother that the powers of chocolate flan were working fine last night. Why do you think most of the cake is left? We got a little distracted.”

  Beth let out a “Woot!” and high-fived Jen.

  Jordan watched in amusement and sipped Diet Coke. Apparently they really wanted her to get laid. She idly wondered if they might have had a bet riding on it. Probably not, since they both seemed to be enjoying it so much. “Can I safely assume you’re happy for me?” All things considered, it was better than passing judgment.

  “Yes, because it hopefully improves your mood.” Beth snickered.

  “I’m the one that has to spend eight hours a day with her unless she’s in trial,” Jen countered. “I’m affected a lot more by her mood.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Jordan said, rolling her eyes. “You talk like I’m a total bitch all the time.”

  “Oh, no!” Jen covered her mouth. “I didn’t mean that, boss. I’m just very happy for you. You deserve a good man who makes you smile.”

  Nice recovery, Jordan thought. “Thank you,” she said. “And thank your grandmother for the recipe.” She smirked “It was a great success.” Jordan spent the next twenty minutes telling them excited tales about her date, including the meal she prepared and the moonlight swim in the pool—though she declined to offer a lot of detail about how that ended up.

  All in all, she thought she offered a glowing explanation of the previous night. So why, then, did it all remind her so much of when she’d returned to Grande Valley for her class reunion and regaled her friends with stories of her success? Perhaps because then, like now, Jordan knew she was spinning a yarn.

  After almost thirty minutes, Jordan figured she’d provided enough entertainment for the day and made an elaborate gesture of looking at her watch. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I have work to do. Jen, we should probably take those phones off the answering service,” she said, perhaps more brusquely than intended.

  Jen looked at her, slightly disappointed, but nodded. “Yes, of course, boss,” she said, getting up from her seat. “And thank you for lunch, Ms. Brewster.”

  “You’re welcome, Jennifer,” Beth said, but didn’t get up from her seat.

  Apparently, she was going to make this difficult. “Don’t you need to go back to the office?” Jordan asked when they were alone.

  “I have ten assistant prosecutors on staff,” Beth said. “I’m pretty sure the county can survive without me for a few more minutes, even in an election year.” She shifted in her seat. “So what really happened last night? What don’t you want Jen to know about?”

  Jordan sighed. It hard to get anything past Beth. “Jen’s a great girl, but at the end of the day, I still sign her paychecks. Some distance is needed.” She sank back in her chair. “You, though...you don’t shock easily and we don’t have any secrets.”

  “That’s right.” Beth offered a smile. “What’s wrong, Jordan?”

  What was right might be a better question. “He said he loved me.”

  Beth’s eyes widened and she gaped. “Oh, wow...”

  “I know. Epic right? Assuming he meant it.”

  “Why would he say it if he didn’t mean it?” Beth asked. “It’s not like men tend to throw that word around haphazardly.”

  She had a point, but Jordan wasn’t quite ready to concede it. “Maybe it wasn’t intentional. Maybe it just slipped out.” Jordan averted her gaze, concentrating instead on what remained of her lunch. “I had him in a slightly vulnerable position at the time he said the words.”

  “What does that mean?” Beth’s mouth open and closed. “How vulnerable, exactly?”

  Jordan considered that. “About as vulnerable a position as a woman can have a man in.” It was her turn to wave her hand in the air. “If you know what I mean.”

  “Oh, that.” Beth’s expression changed to one of boredom. “And why is that remarkable?”

  “Are you implying I’m—”

  “No,” Beth interrupted. “I’m not implying anything. I’m merely saying that you are a sophisticated and liberated woman who enjoys the company of a man, and that this was, presumably, not the first time you have had a man in a similarly vulnerable position.” She drained the last of her soda, making a slurping sound. “Correct?”

  Jordan chomped into a piece of bacon and didn’t look at her. “And your point is?”

  “Have any of them said they loved you before?”

  “Not exactly...”

  “Right,” Beth said. “So what does that tell you?”

  Jordan sighed. She’d already played out the scenario in her head several times before. “That maybe he meant it.”

  Beth smiled. “Exactly, which shouldn’t be a problem for most women, unless they don’t return the feelings. Or in your case, because they do.”

  That was precisely the problem. Jordan swallowed hard. “You know me too well.”

  Beth nodded. “I always have.”

  “I don’t know what to do now,” Jordan admitted. Everything, suddenly, seemed much more complicated.

  “Embrace it,” Beth suggested. “Or at least try not to screw it up too badly.”

  Chapter 16

  Embrace it. Jordan wanted to, if she could only figure out how. For some people, she knew this would be easy. They could embrace the idea of being in love and look forward to the fresh, new excitement it would bring.

  Jordan envied those people. She wondered what they had that she didn’t that enabled them to be comfortable with the idea of being happy. Or maybe it wasn’t what they had, but what they didn’t. No scars, no baggage, no inner voice saying ‘No, you don’t deserve this.’ Nothing holding them back. Jordan wished she could be like them.

  She gave Jen a stack of dictation to work on and instructed her to hold all calls, not wanting to risk any interruptions. This would be hard enough to do. Jordan told herself she wasn’t being rash or hasty. After all, she’d spent the entire morning assessing the situation and didn’t completely make up her mind until after the conversation with Beth. That clinched it.

  Jordan believed Jake’s feelings were genuine. More importantly, she knew hers were, which left her little choice. She needed to end things before they went any further. It was a mistake to let it go this far. She should have stuck to her first instinct when Jake came to town and not let him into her life. Because she hadn’t, this would hurt both of them a lot more.

  She sank into her chair and considered the best way to do it. Face to face wasn’t an option. One look into those gray eyes and Jordan would be lost. A phone call was out, too. Once she heard Jake’s voice, she would lose all resolve. A text message seemed rude, and she had way too much to say. No, this was something that called for an old-fashioned letter.

  She pulled a piece of stationery from her desk drawer and grabbed her favorite fountain pen with her initials etched into it. Even in this electronic age, Jordan still treasured a fine piece of stationery and a good pen, perhaps because her mother had as well. Jaclyn had also possessed excellent penmanship; Jordan, not so much. She was usually in too much of a hurry, but she always tried to make her mother proud.

  After staring at the paper for at least ten minutes, Jordan finally touched the
pen to it. Dear Jake, she wrote, then stopped. Did that sound too much like a ‘Dear John’ letter? Then again, wasn’t that what it was, basically? Well, except she hadn’t met someone else and she didn’t want to do this.

  First, I owe you a response to what you said this morning. I hope you’ll forgive my lack of manners in not telling you then, but you had me a little distracted at the time.

  She hoped he would appreciate a little humor.

  Anyway, here’s my answer. I love you, too. That’s why this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

  Half an hour later, Jordan finally set the pen down and wiped her eyes. She hoped that by the time Jake read it, the tear stains on the paper wouldn’t be quite as noticeable.

  She put the letter in an envelope and slipped her sunglasses on. She stopped by Jen’s desk on her way out. “I need to go run an errand,” she told her secretary. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” If Jen thought it was strange that Jordan wore sunglasses inside the building, she thankfully said nothing.

  When she got to Jake’s hotel, Jordan took the sealed envelope to the front desk. “I have a delivery for one of your guests,” she said. “Jake Morrison. Can you please make sure he gets it?”

  “Yes, of course,” woman behind the counter said. “Mr. Morrison stops by here every night to pick up messages and deliveries. He gets a lot.” She lowered her voice and leaned across the service counter. “Did you know he’s a movie star?”

  “Yeah, I heard something about that,” Jordan said. “Just see that he gets this, please.” Before she could lose her nerve, she handed the envelope to the woman and left the hotel. She was shaking by the time she got to her car. “I’m sorry, Jake. I hope you understand why I had to do it.”

  ***

  Jake tried to convince himself that nothing was wrong, that Jordan was just busy, but every time he tried to call her during a break in scenes, the call went straight to voice mail. After the third time, he stopped leaving messages. Jordan knew how to reach him if she wanted to.

  By the time he got back to his hotel after a long day of filming—much of it in the hot desert sun—he was exhausted. All he wanted to do was have a beer, take a shower, and study his lines for the next day. Apparently, someone else had other ideas, because when he passed the front desk, the clerk told him he had a delivery and handed him an envelope. It bore his name on the front, but he didn’t recognize the handwriting. Then again, he didn’t get a lot of handwritten letters these days.

  When he got to his room, he sat down in the chair by the window and opened the envelope. He might not have immediately recognized the handwriting, but the embossed initials JLP on the top of the page told him who the note was from.

  He chuckled when he read the first line. He always appreciated Jordan’s sense of humor, and it had certainly been his pleasure to have her a little distracted. He willed himself not to think about that, though, or he shower he took tonight would have to be a really cold one.

  Jake read the next line and smiled. Jordan loved him, too. So was she playing hard to get by not taking his calls? The next sentence answered his question. Jordan wasn’t playing hard to get. She was trying to find a polite way to dump him, as if there was such a thing. Jake walked to the small refrigerator in his room and grabbed a beer before reading the rest.

  As I sit down to write this, I am left with the feeling that I should have stuck to my guns when you first came to Grande Valley. If I had, we would both be spared this enormous pain right now. On the other hand, we would also be denied the sheer joy of the past few weeks, and especially last night. Oh, last night...

  Please know that it has, truly, been a joy for me. You’ve given me a feeling I’ve seldom had before in my life—that of being cherished and loved. Thank you for that. You’re a special man.

  It is only because I love you that I write this. I knew from the moment I met you that you would someday be a star, as long as you didn’t let Hollywood beat you. It might have seemed like a rough road at times, but I am proud of you. You did it. You beat Hollywood. Something I could never do. Hollywood beat me, and my life is here now. Yours isn’t.

  You have a bright future, Jake, and I don’t want to hold you back. I think you’ll get that Oscar nomination next year, and maybe even win, too. And when you do, you deserve to have someone there by your side that you can be proud of and trust that she won’t embarrass you if she gets too close to the bar.

  We both know that person isn’t me. I let that town beat me once. I can’t risk it beating me again, and I want better for you than constantly looking out for me. I meant what I said, though. I’ll be rooting for you from home, and I will always cherish the time we spent together.

  Love,

  Jordan

  Jake read the letter two times, his eyes starting to blur as they passed over her words. Okay, Jordan was dumping him. That part was easy enough to understand. What he didn’t quite get was why she was doing it if she loved him, too, which she claimed she did.

  I love you, so I’m breaking up with you for your own good? She thought she was doing him a freaking favor? It sounded way too much like the storylines on the soap operas he used to star in, especially the part about him deserving better than her. What the hell?

  “How about you let me decide what’s best for me, Jordan, and what I deserve?” Jake said out loud. “Because it’s not this.” He drained his beer and slammed the empty bottle on the table. Damn it. She’d walked out of his life once before, and he couldn’t forget her. No way was he letting it happen again.

  He picked up his phone and dialed her number. Naturally, it went straight to voice mail. “It’s Jake. Again. I just got your letter. Lovely sentiment, but I don’t agree, so you might as well call me. I meant what I said. I love you, Jordan, and I’m not going away that easily.” He jabbed at the screen to end the call, then angrily threw the phone to the floor. The case snapped apart and the battery fell out. Great. How could she call him now?

  He’d just finished putting the phone back together when it rang. It wasn’t Jordan, though, it was Greg. With an annoyed swipe across the screen, he answered it. “Do you understand women?” he asked.

  The agent laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding. No man understands women. It’s impossible. And by the way, that has to be the most unusual greeting I’ve ever gotten from a client.”

  Jake didn’t share in the laughter. “At least I’m winning at something,” he muttered.

  “You’re winning at a lot of things, Jake.”

  “If you say so.” A few hours ago, he’d been in the running for an Oscar nomination and in love with the woman of his dreams. Now he was in the running for an Oscar nomination and in love with the woman of his dreams, who also apparently loved him—and also wanted nothing more to do with him. It didn’t seem much like winning. “What’s up?”

  “I talked to Chaz, told him you’d have an answer for him tomorrow morning,” Greg said. “He doesn’t want to wait that long.”

  “That long?” Jake glanced at the bedside clock. “It’s another twelve hours, and he’ll presumably be asleep for most of them.”

  “Hey, you know how temperamental these directors can be. So what is it? Are you in or are you out?” Greg asked. “And if it’s the latter, I feel I also have to ask if you’d like to go back to working in daytime soaps.”

  “Yeah, right. There are hardly any left on the air, and I’ve already been killed off one of the ones that is.” This time, Jake laughed. It was nice to find the humor in it now. “I suppose they can bring me back as an evil twin, but if they call, you’ll have to tell them no,” he said. “And while you’re at it, tell Chaz yes. Channing Tatum’s going to have to look for a different script. This one’s mine.”

  “Whew.” Greg sounded relieved. “I was almost afraid you were going to blow this, Jake.”

  “I’m not stupid, Greg,” he said. “I want to do this film, and there’s no way I’d turn down two months in the Caribbean.” In the meantime, he st
ill had eight weeks left in Grande Valley. Surely that was enough time to convince Jordan to leave with him.

  ***

  With each message she listened to, Jordan felt her resolve weakening. After a series of calls from Jake’s number with no message, Jordan hoped it was done.

  Then came the final message, when he vowed not to give up or go away so easily. “Damn it, Jake. Why can’t you leave well enough alone and believe what I said the first time? I don’t trust myself around you, and I’m bad for you. Why is that so hard to understand?”

  She scrolled through her contacts screen until she found the one she wanted. Thankfully, the call was answered on the second ring. “Hi, it’s Jordan. I hope this isn’t a bad time. I’ve had a rough day and I’m not feeling very strong right now.”

  Chapter 17

  “There’s never a bad time to hear from you, Jordan,” Bob Madison said. “I’m sorry you’re having a rough day, but I’m glad you called me.”

  Simply hearing the friendly and supportive voice of her former boss, mentor, and AA sponsor helped Jordan to relax a bit. She settled onto the couch and put her feet up. “I’m glad you answered.” Although they didn’t talk as much lately as they had when Jordan first left her job at Simmons and Madison and moved to Texas, they tried to keep in contact and Jordan still felt as if she could always count on Bob to be there for her. “How have you been? How are things in California?”

  “Fine. Good. Brenda’s still on my case about retiring and taking her to Europe,” Bob said with a chuckle. “You know, the usual.”

  Jordan did, because it always seemed to be the same situation every time she talked to him. “Some things never change, huh?”

  “And some do. Summer and Chet are making me a grandfather, finally. What do you make of that?”