Читать книгу Sparks - Dara Girard - Страница 10

“Jordan Taylor. That sounds like a nice name,” Simone said, looking at the information on her desk. Jordan had sent them an outline of his ideas to see if Dawn could come up with something for their meeting.

Dawn tapped her desk with impatience and sent her assistant a cool look. “That’s not why I plan to work with him.”

Simone set the paper down. “Are you sure you can do this? It’s a big job. You’ve never dealt with this kind of assignment before.”

Dawn glanced around her office at her particle board furniture and stained brown carpet. She would do anything to rebuild her life and get herself out of this place. “Am I sure that I can make The Medical Institute a viable entity? Of course. I have no doubt that I can make The Medical Institute number one in the state. I can make it a place where people in the medical profession go to first when they want to recruit medical and dental assistants and secretaries.”

“Remember it’s his institute not yours,” Simone said with caution.

“It will be our institute, eventually. A joint effort. I plan to make it very clear that it will be in his best interest to follow my suggestions.”

“How?”

Dawn smiled faintly. “As long as you make a man believe something is his idea, he will go along with it.”

“I’m not questioning your skill,” Simone said quickly, knowing how determined her boss and friend was. “I just think, perhaps…sometimes you tend to overwhelm people.”

Dawn raised her eyebrows. “Have there been complaints?”

“No, just…” She waved her hands, trying to grasp the right explanation. “People want to feel that their ideas are being acknowledged. I know that you’re good at what you do and you always get results, but you also need to let others be good at what they do.”

“They’re obviously not very good at what they do, if they have to come to me.”

“They want a consultation, not an overhaul. At times your ideas are very grandiose and that makes some people nervous. Perhaps you could start small and then build from there.”

Dawn abruptly stopped tapping the desk. “I don’t have the patience to start small. Especially when given the opportunity to do otherwise.”

Simone nodded, but Dawn knew her friend would never understand her drive. Right now she was struggling, but she knew she would eventually prosper, and when she was strong enough, she’d crush the Layton Group.

“Basing a business on revenge is not a good idea.”

Dawn’s dark eyes focused on Simone. “What do you mean?”

Simone touched the information sheet. “This is about Brandon, isn’t it? Everything you do is.”

She stood, suddenly feeling restless. “No. This is about business. Besides I’m glad he’s gone. He was a dreadful business partner. I know he has to resist lifting his leg every time he passes a fire hydrant.”

“Careful. You’re beginning to sound bitter.”

She went to the window and glanced down at the parking lot. “I might as well get it out of my system. I need the skill and patience to handle Mr. Taylor properly.”

“I doubt Mr. Taylor would like to be ‘handled.’”

Dawn turned to her and leaned against the windowsill. “I’ve learned a lot about men over the years. They usually don’t know what they want until you tell them. Well, in the case of Jordan Taylor, I’ll tell him what he wants then help him get it.”

“So who’s next?” David Watkins asked Jordan as they sat in an upscale eatery finishing a hearty breakfast. They were both large men with appetites to match. The plates between them threatened to cause an avalanche that neither noticed. David leaned over his plate as he cut his omelet, his brown dreadlocks falling forward.

Jordan glanced at his friend, wishing he could convince him to tie his hair back. He dashed hot pepper on his poached eggs instead. “Next for what?”

“In line. Since you and Gail broke up I’m sure there’s someone new.” He glanced at his watch.

“Naturally, I’m not surprised.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s April. Gail reached her four-month mark. Her sell-by date had expired.”

Jordan scowled at his accuracy. “It isn’t like that.”

“Since your divorce you haven’t been with a woman longer than four months.”

Jordan tucked into his eggs. “You’ve been keeping track?”

“Three women in the last year. Does that ring a bell?”

He sipped his coffee and shrugged.

“Based on those facts the most logical question is: Who’s next?”

“Nobody.”

“There has to be somebody. Since ninth grade you’ve always had a girlfriend.”

The waitress approached the table. Her long black hair hung in a ponytail, leaving her heart-shaped face prominent and displaying streaks of rouge from her chin to her cheek. “Are you enjoying your meal?” she asked.

Jordan nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

“Would you like me to refill your coffee?”

He covered his mug. Coffee brimmed to the rim. “No, thanks.”

She smiled and left.

David rubbed his eyes. “Either I’m suffering from déjà vu or that’s the fifth time she’s come over here.”

Jordan watched her take an order from a young couple cooing at their baby. “She’s just very attentive.”

“Yes, on catching a man.” David followed his gaze. “Careful, these women have nets.”

“I don’t plan on getting caught.”

“You were once.”

Jordan tapped the rim of his mug. “Yes, I’d managed to forget my three-year marriage. Thanks for reminding me.”

David ignored his sarcasm. “It was inevitable. You’ll get caught again too. You can’t be without a woman longer than a week.”

Jordan looked annoyed. “Of course I can. I just like their company. Women intrigue me.”

“Until you get antsy and need to get rid of them.”

“I don’t get rid of them. I give them a reason to get rid of me.”

David lifted a brow. “So you admit there’s a method to all this.”

“I don’t admit a thing.”

“What will you do when a woman doesn’t want to get rid of you?”

He smiled. “Not a problem. They always do.”

“That’s not something to brag about.”

His smile fell. “I wasn’t bragging. It’s a fact.”

They were silent then David said, “You shouldn’t be afraid.”

Jordan gripped his fork. There was that damn word again. Afraid. “Of what?”

“Marriage.”

“I’m not afraid of marriage,” he mumbled. “I just don’t like wives.”

“Is that supposed to make sense?”

Jordan leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Women are very clever. They don’t let us know about this transformation period they go through when you put a ring on their finger. It starts out slowly during the engagement. She becomes this pre-wedding banshee from hell, crying over lace tablecloths and napkins and screaming over whether you should have an ice sculpture of a swan or a rose.”

Jordan held a hand over his heart. “But you ignore this change because you know the wedding day is a special time for her and she’s under a lot of stress. Then you get married. The day when the engagement ring and the wedding ring meet. In the distance you can hear the door of your prison closing, but still you don’t know what lies ahead. You’ve bought into the fantasy that surrounds you, the lies you’ve been told. You look into her eyes and she still looks the same. She still looks like the woman you’ve been dating for over a year. Your girlfriend. Your sweet, sexy, loving girlfriend.” His hand fell to the table, rattling the dishes. “But the truth is your girlfriend is dead. Gone forever. You now have a wife.”

David shrugged. “So? Isn’t that the point of a wedding?”

“One day you’ll wake up, preferably after the honeymoon, it will be awkward otherwise, and you’ll see her looking at you. You won’t recognize the look at first because she’s never worn it before. However, you’ll know it’s not good.”

“How?”

“The hair on the back of your neck will itch. Suddenly, you’ll recognize it as the look your mother gave you when you did something wrong, but you weren’t sure what.”

David shivered. “I hated that look.”

“Exactly, and that’s when you’ll know.”

“Know what?”

“That she’s going to try and change you. She’s going to tell you how to wash dishes, clothes, take out the trash, what to wear, what to eat, how to shop. If you even glance at another woman she’ll think you’re on the verge of an affair. Once she has you suitably castrated—I mean domesticated—she’ll deliver the next blow.”

David scooped up his eggs, but they promptly dropped back to his plate. “Blow?”

Jordan sipped his coffee then set it down. “Yes, blow.” He hesitated. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

“Just say it.”

“If you even hint at wanting to start a family, she’ll accuse you of trying to stop her career, wanting to make her barefoot and pregnant and keeping her tied to the house. Don’t even try to explain that you can afford for her to be a stay-at-home mom. She’s an independent woman. She doesn’t need to be kept and offered an allowance from some chauvinistic, egotistic…”

David set his fork down, suppressing a grin. “You’re digressing.”

“Right. Anyway, if you do find a woman who won’t mind being a stay-at-home mother, you’re still in the danger zone.”

“What zone is that?”

“Resentment. You don’t even know you’ve stepped into it until it blows up in your face. One moment she’s a happy wife and mother. The next moment she blames you for all the ill in the world and hates you for looking down on her. For denying her a career of her own. She’s bored, she feels stifled and unappreciated for all the sacrifices she has made.” He cut his pancakes. “With those two choices in front of me, I’ve decided to stay single.”

David shook his head. “All women are not like that.”

“I agree. There are exceptions.”

“See?”

“They’re called lesbians.”

David shook his head again.

“You show me a happily married man and I’ll show you a woman with brass balls in her handbag.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You’ve never been married.” Jordan pointed his fork at him. “You still have time to dream. Go ahead and take the plunge. I already have and I don’t plan to again. I’d rather have a girlfriend than a wife. You get everything without the crap.”

“You’re paranoid.”

“Think of it as healthy skepticism. I’ve made a study of this and I have an over-fifty-percent divorce rate to back up my claim. Think about it.”

“I don’t want to think about it. There are women who make great wives.”

Jordan paused then nodded. “I can think of two women. One is of course your mother.”

David inclined his head. “Thank you.”

“The second is beautiful, sweet, loving and generous. I’d take her in an instant.”

“Why don’t you?”

“She’s married to my brother. Makes the situation a bit awkward.”

“There are other women out there. Your sister-in-law isn’t the only one.”

Jordan ignored him. “Unfortunately, Emma has one little flaw which would be the only reason I wouldn’t take her.”

“You just said you would marry her.”

“No, I said I would take her. I didn’t say I’d marry her.”

David sighed. “What’s her flaw? Besides the fact that she’s in love with your brother?”

“She takes too much crap. At times I wish she’d tell my brother to take a pole and put it somewhere uncomfortable.”

David laughed at the image. “She wouldn’t dare.”

“I know. I couldn’t marry a woman I’d take advantage of.”

“You’d take advantage of her?”

“I wouldn’t mean to, but come on. When a woman does everything you want her to, wouldn’t you?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

David paused then nodded. “Yeah, I’m lying.” He waved his fork. “So let me get this straight. You want a woman with her own business, who wants to start a family and who doesn’t take your crap, but who you can control?”

“Yep.”

“You’re right. She doesn’t exist.”

“That’s why I keep looking.”

“Which takes me right back to my point. You can’t commit to a woman. No one says you have to marry her, but dumping her—”

Jordan waved his fork.

“Having her dump you,” David corrected. “Is not natural. You need to know why you do it.”

“I don’t care why.”

“Your relationships with women are like an addiction.”

“No, they’re not.”

David sat back and studied him for a moment. “I bet you couldn’t go one month without a woman.”

“Why would I want to? Life is full of choices.”

David began to smile. “Four weeks.”

“I like my life.”

“One entire month. No sex and no new relationships.”

Jordan began to rest his elbows on the table then recognized there was no room. He folded his arms. “Are you offering a challenge?”

David’s smile grew. “You couldn’t do it.”

Jordan thought about Gail’s tears. Perhaps he should take a break. He held out his hand ready for the challenge. “You’re on. Just name your price.”

Twenty-four hours later he met the woman who could cost him three thousand dollars.