Читать книгу Sparks - Dara Girard - Страница 11

“What time is it?” Simone asked, stretching in her chair.

Dawn yawned. “I don’t know.” She glanced at the plastic dishes and utensils on her desk. Outside a street light flickered over the two lone cars in the parking lot. She didn’t care how late it was. She planned to put together the perfect presentation package.

Simone hit a key on her laptop. “I still think the PowerPoint presentation is overdoing it a bit.”

“Just check the slides. I don’t want them too crowded. Mr. Taylor needs to know how competent we are.”

“It’s three o’clock in the morning.” Simone stood. “When is your appointment?”

“Around seven.”

Simone spun Dawn around in her swivel chair. “You need to sleep. You don’t want to go to the meeting with bags under your eyes.”

“Don’t worry.” Dawn turned back to her desk. “Lately, I haven’t needed much sleep.”

“Dawn, you’re a great consultant. You built one business, you’ll build another. Now it’s time to go home.”

“But I need to assess the other schools….”

“No.”

Dawn stared at her computer monitor. “We need this job.”

“But he can’t know that. You’ll need to be cool and calm.”

How could she be cool and calm? Dawn thought on the way home. This was her big chance, perhaps her only chance. A client like The Medical Institute could put her back on track. Soon she’d be able to afford a one-bedroom with a balcony, she’d be able to pay membership to a gym, and get her old life back. Taylor had no idea what this meant to her. He was probably at home sleeping without a care in the world.

The rich rarely had worries. She wondered what he was like. Was he handsome? He really didn’t have to be; he had a great voice. She didn’t know much about Jordan or the Taylors, but she did know that Charles Taylor had started the company. She had heard of a son named Ray, but never of Jordan. Why the change of successor?

She brushed the thought aside. Their family drama wasn’t her concern. Her number one goal was to impress Jordan Taylor and get the job.

At home Dawn opened her closet. She didn’t want to wear anything too severe or too casual. She had to project the right image. The more Taylor left to her the easier it would be. And the more credit she could claim. Her first goal was to get him to say “Yes.”

A high shrill pierced through Jordan’s peaceful slumber. He groaned and turned onto his side and pulled the covers over his head, but the ringing didn’t stop.

He grabbed the phone. “Hello?”

“Hello, Jordan,” a feminine voice said.

He liked the voice. Perhaps he was still dreaming. “Who is this?” He rubbed his eyes.

“It’s Maxine.”

His stomach twisted into knots; he became wide awake. He glanced at the clock: It read 4:30 a.m. “Do you know what time it is?”

“I knew I couldn’t get you otherwise.”

“This is not a good time.”

“When is a good time?”

“A day after never,” he grumbled then yawned.

“That’s not fair,” she said without anger. She kept her voice low. “Jordan, I need to see you.”

He sat up and rested his head back. “Why?”

“I have to discuss something that I can’t say over the phone. This is important to me and to you.”

He turned on the light and squinted at the glare. “To me?”

“Yes.”

His tone grew concerned. “Is someone ill?”

“I’ll tell you when we meet.”

He shut his eyes. “Maxine, you know I don’t like games.”

“Please, Jordan.”

He didn’t want to see her again. He still didn’t trust himself. “I don’t know.”

“Please.”

He held his head. “I shouldn’t.”

“But you will.”

Damn, she knew him too well. “It will have to be quick. I have an appointment at seven tomorrow or rather today for dinner. You could come before then…say, around five.”

“Fitting me in around appointments? Seems the tables have turned. Maybe you’ll understand my position now.”

“It won’t change anything. We’ll still be divorced.”

She paused then said, “I hear you’re the new head of the Institute. I wonder why Charles chose you.”

“He wanted to make everybody laugh.”

“If you need any business advice—”

“Right,” he cut in ready to get back to sleep.

“I’ll see you around five.”

“Maxine,” he said sinking under the covers. “This had better be good.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Jordan stared at Maxine in disbelief. He surged to his feet. “No way!”

Maxine sat on the couch and tucked her feet under her. She kept her classically beautiful face composed and maintained a level tone as though dealing with a child throwing a tantrum. “Jordan, just listen.”

He gestured to his ears. “I was listening. I can’t believe what I just heard. Actually, I hope I didn’t.”

“You’re being emotional.”

“As opposed to psychotic?” He threw up his hands. “I don’t believe this.”

Maxine swung her feet to the ground. “It’s a little favor.”

“I’d rather extract my own kidney.”

“I’m not asking for a kidney. I’m asking for a baby.”

“That’s nice. I hope you get one.”

“I want to have it with you. Where are you going?” she demanded when Jordan abruptly left the room.

“To get something to eat.”

She followed him to the kitchen. “I thought you said you had a dinner date.”

“It’s not a date. It’s an appointment.”

“I just saw you eat a sandwich.”

“I’ll still be able to eat dinner.” He grabbed an apple.

Maxine stared at him amazed. “I always swore you had a second stomach. How could a man eat so much and still look like you?”

“Good genes.” He waved his apple. “Which I’m not planning to share.”

“You wanted to once,” she said quietly.

“Then we should have had this conversation at that time.”

“I wasn’t ready then.”

“And I’m not ready now. Go to a sperm bank.”

Maxine hugged herself, her brown eyes pleading. “I want to know the father of my baby.”

He stared at her for a moment then turned away. “No.”

“Just think about it.”

“No.” He leaned against the fridge and kept his gaze on the ground. “The only way I’m going to have a baby is if I’m married to its mother, and since I don’t plan to marry again, that won’t happen.” He raised his gaze, his tone unyielding. “Understand?”

Maxine shivered. “Don’t look at me like that. That doesn’t sound like you.”

“Well, it is me.”

“It didn’t used to be. We both know how much you want kids. You can’t deny it. I know you better than anyone. I know how much you wanted a family.”

He smiled cruelly. “Yes, and we know how much you cared.”

She blinked back tears. “I said I wasn’t ready.”

Jordan pushed himself from the fridge. “No, you married the wrong son,” he said in an ugly tone. “You should have married the one that was legitimate. That would have given you better business connections. The one that would have put you in the right circles.”

Maxine widened her eyes, astonished by the accusation. “I didn’t marry you because of who your father was.”

He shrugged. “It didn’t hurt being Mrs. Jordan Taylor. It got doors opened and helped with the popularity of your boutique. But running a successful boutique wasn’t enough. You had to run me too.”

“I wanted you to improve yourself. You had to do something with your life.”

“I was doing something. I was living it.”

“You were traveling and volunteering your time at that swim center.”

“Why not? I liked it. I liked the hours and I liked the kids. I liked doing exactly what I wanted.”

“Do you think being a CEO will give you time to do what you used to?”

“I’ll make it suit me, not the other way around.”

“Life isn’t like that. You have to fit in.”

“Why try? I’m worth more than your three boutiques combined.”

“And you didn’t earn a cent of it,” she spat out.

He nodded, then said in a soft voice, “Yes, and you still resent that.”

“I resent a man who could live for nothing else but pleasure when other people struggle.”

“You resent me, yet you still want to have a child with me?”

“Yes. Because I know you’ll make a great father.”

Jordan winced as though she’d struck him then an unreadable look crossed his face. “No.”

“You don’t want to get married,” she pressed. “But I know you want to be a father. It could work out for both of us.”

“My parents weren’t married. It might have suited them but it made my life hell. I won’t subject my kid to that. I can’t believe you’re asking me to do that. Me of all people. I know what it’s like to be part of a bargain. To be a piece in a game. My mother made my father pay for my existence. You’re right, I didn’t earn a cent of my money. I got a nice sum and made wise investments and I don’t deserve any of it.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“There are a lot of things you don’t have to say.”

“If you do this for me, I won’t ask you for anything more.”

Jordan tossed the apple away and grabbed a banana. “No.”

Maxine sighed. “Stop fooling yourself. You’ll marry again. You can’t stand being alone.” She placed the brochure on the table. “Think about it.” She touched his cheek. He moved away. “Think about what you’re saying no to. It may be your only chance.”

Jordan rested his forehead against the door after she left. A baby. Damn, why now when she knew how much he’d wanted it then? How he’d wanted a wife and child and home life he’d never had. He shook his head. It was too late now. He didn’t want anything to do with her or any woman. Not in that way. He wouldn’t be that vulnerable again. He moved away from the door. The conversation never happened. The issue was over. No more women. Just business.

Over an hour later Jordan looked at his crooked tie in the mirror and scowled at his reflection. Why couldn’t he get this right? It was such a simple task; men around the county, heck around the world, did it every day. Why was it so difficult for him? He undid it and tried again; then the doorbell rang.

He glanced at his watch and scowled. One thing he disliked more than ties were appointments that arrived twenty minutes early. He grabbed the two ends of his tie and answered the door.

“Hi, I’m Dawn Ajani.”

Jordan stared as though he’d been punched in the gut. She was all wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be that attractive. She had the proud dominant cheekbones of a West African heritage that made him think of desert winds, the heat of a blazing summer storm and the cooling rain that soon followed. She looked like a woman who could start a fire in a man and easily put it out. This was not good. He shook his head, feeling a little dizzy. Business. He had to think business.

And she looked ready for business dressed in a full gray pinstripe suit with a tie. Strangely, it made her figure appear more feminine.

“Nice tie,” he said, then mentally kicked himself.

She smiled, he swallowed. She was even prettier when she smiled—bright, real, genuine. He shifted and coughed knowing he was staring.

“Thank you. I know it’s not the trend, but I think the look suits me. Is it safe to assume you’re Jordan Taylor?”

“Yes.”

She held out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He quickly shook her hand then took a step back. He had to keep his distance. “Come in. Please take your shoes off.” Along the foyer hallway, he had his shoes neatly placed in a row.

She slipped out of her shoes, left her briefcase by the door and headed to the living room. “I’m sorry I’m so early. I’d set my watch fast and forgot. However, I’d rather be early than tardy. Don’t you agree?”

Jordan opened his mouth to reply, but she continued. “It’s much better not to keep someone waiting. It shows good manners.” She abruptly stopped and turned, Jordan crashed into her. They fell against the wall. He jumped back before he began to enjoy her softness beneath him.

“Sorry,” she said.

He grunted.

“I just wanted to say that I see you’re not completely ready so I’ll just sit here until you are. Rushing people because you’re early is equally as bad manners as being late. Don’t let me keep you. I know how to entertain myself. And you don’t have to worry, I won’t snoop. I know how upsetting it is to have people who snoop.”

Jordan stared at her.

She frowned. “Is something wrong?”

He flashed a look of mock surprise. “Oh, you mean I’m allowed to speak?”

Embarrassed, she cupped her face with both hands, looking up at him with a wide-eyed look. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to go on like that. It’s just sometimes I get on a topic and my mouth moves until the topic is finished.”

“So—”

“Fortunately, I’m learning to listen more. I’m an excellent listener. In my field, it helps to make sure that my clients feel that their concerns are being addressed. I can assure you, Mr. Taylor, that you can feel confident that all your ideas, suggestions, concerns or whatever else will be heard.”

“Ms.—”

“I can’t tell you how excited I am by your proposal. I was able to flesh out many of your ideas. I think it’s great that the Institute has selected a new president to give it a new direction. I believe that this endeavor is adventurous, though extremely ambitious, but…” She paused and drew her brows together concerned. “Mr. Taylor, if you’re not careful you’ll strangle yourself with that tie.”

Jordan loosened his grip. “For a brief moment that had been my intention,” he said gravely.

“Why?”

“I was hoping that if I passed out you would stop talking.”

She covered her mouth then let her hand fall. “Again, I apologize. I—” He shot her a glance; she bit her lip. “I’ll stop.” She made a motion of zipping her lips closed.

“Good. May we get down to business?”

She nodded.

“Let me get my jacket.” He disappeared before she could reply. He went into the bathroom and shut the door. He stared at his reflection and began to arrange his tie.

“She’s not my type,” he told himself. “I don’t like women who talk too much and I don’t like pushy women. She’s both. That means I’m not attracted to her. I’m just excited about her ideas. I don’t care that she’s good-looking. That I’m thinking what she’s like not suited up. I am not interested.” He took a deep breath then left the bathroom. He saw Dawn on the ground putting things in a plastic bag.

“What are you doing?”

She glanced up. “Sorry, I knocked it over.” She gestured to the hall table. “I wasn’t snooping.” She picked up a box of hair dye. “You have gray hair already?” she asked, surprised.

“No.” He took the box from her and the plastic bag with other items he had purchased from the drugstore, the night before.

She stood. “Then why dye your hair? What color is it?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“I’m curious.”

He shrugged.

She gave him a flirtatious look. “There are ways of finding out.”

“Well, that’s one way you won’t find out.”

She lowered her gaze, embarrassed; Jordan fought a smile. “Right of course,” she said.

He opened the closet and grabbed a coat. “The restaurant is a few blocks from here.”

“Okay. I’ll give you more time to get ready.”

He closed the closet. “I am ready.”

“Um, your tie is crooked. Would you like me to fix it?”

No. He didn’t want her touching him. He yanked off his tie, tossed it on the hall table and opened the door. With that eloquent answer she followed him outside.