Backstage, surrounded by stacks of folding chairs and empty clothing racks, Jordan raised her voice over the electronic music blasting through the speakers. “You’ll line up in the order Richie has assigned,” she told the ten models as they prepared for the fashion show rehearsal. “Someone will arrive any minute to talk more about the procedures on stage.”
Jordan leafed through the papers on her clipboard. “Leah, you still need to sign the waiver. See me after. Richie?”
“All right, listen up, ladies, this is the order for your lineup. Here we go,” Richie announced. “Rachael, Leah, Marie, Sandra, Nicky, Rosa, Tracy, Cassandra, Anja, and last but not least, Bobby.”
He paced in front of Jordan wearing cutoff jeans and a white graphic T-shirt covered by a black vest. The models smiled as he cast his stunning gray eyes over them. After a moment, he threw his hand up and formed a rock star symbol. “Awesome. You guys rock!”
Harry, the older man she’d been awaiting, approached in a navy blue linen shirt and black pants, sporting dyed silver hair and diamond studs in both earlobes. “Jordan, darling. Nice to see you again,” he said, kissing both of her cheeks. He turned and extended a hand to Richie. “You must be Richie. I’m Harry.”
“Okay, ladies!” Harry extended his arm and walked and talked as he escorted the models to the stage. “Please follow me out to the stage where it’s easier to demonstrate. Today I’ll be going over pacing, centering, off-centering, lighting, and cameras, among other shenanigans.”
Enthusiasm flowed through Jordan. Her very first fashion show, and the process was like a dream. In fact, everything was going well. In addition to being close to achieving one of the biggest goals in her life, she’d met what seemed to be a really cool guy. Ever since the night she’d spent with Brandon, she’d been walking around with a smile glued to her face.
As each of the models practiced what Harry demonstrated, she took the opportunity to scroll through old text messages from Brandon, sent the morning after their adventurous night together.
Brandon: How are you feeling?
Jordan: Good. Just a bit hungover.
Brandon: You did drink a ton. If you lived closer, I would bring you a Bloody Mary. I knew I should have cut you off.
Jordan: You did cut me off LOL.
Brandon: I meant sooner LOL.
He’d also sent a picture of her lying on a lounge chair at the bar. The picture made her cringe, but Brandon was funny and carefree, and she enjoyed his company. But the best part was him being a gentleman, adhering to his promise of not touching her—even though by the end of the night, she’d wanted him to.
“Jordan Artesian! What has gotten into you?” Richie said, catching her off-guard as she was busy grinning into her phone.
“Nothing. Just a text from a friend.”
Richie narrowed his eyes. “Uh-huh. You can’t fool me, Jordan. Who is it? Did you meet someone?”
“What? No, I didn’t. Or I did, just not in the way you think.” Jordan stared over his left shoulder. “He’s a friend.”
“Uh-huh. I’ll let it go because there are dire issues right now. I’ve been so busy trying to get everything in order that I forgot to mention—yesterday at the dance rehearsals, Tracy almost sprained her ankle,” Richie said, his eyes on the models as Harry gathered them on the runway. “Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is how it happened. She is as stiff as this flipping pencil, no rhythm whatsoever. I don’t know what you want to do with her. Here’s the video from the rehearsal.”
Jordan connected her Bluetooth headset to Richie’s phone. “Oh, yeah. Oh, no, poor thing.”
Richie folded his arms across his chest with an absurd expression.
Jordan laughed. “Richie, stop with the face. I need to concentrate. She needs this gig.”
Jordan turned toward the stage for a moment. “Maybe if we put her in the back toward the left, where Harry said the stage will be less lighted, it will keep her out of the spotlight. Start with one model up front who can pull enough attention, and then two in the second row, then three, and four, ensuring Tracy’s lined up on the far left. Have her change places with Anja for the lineup, so when they walk out at the end, they’ll end up in the right places.”
Richie winked. “That’s why you’re the boss.”
Jordan’s phone rang, and she hastily tried to reconnect her Bluetooth. “Crap, it’s Nick. Give me a second.” Jordan walked backstage to answer the call from her website manager, Nick.
“Hey, Jordan. Just calling to let you know I received the photographs. Richie emailed them to me earlier today. I’m going to need a time and date to sit down with you to do a run-through of everything. Are you free any time before the show tomorrow?”
“Ah . . . tomorrow morning. I should be in my office at nine,” Jordan said, typing it into her calendar.
“Sweet, I’ll see you then. Thanks for the tickets to the show, by the way,” Nick said.
Richie always teased her about Nick having a crush on her. He was a sweet guy, just not her type—like every other guy since Todd. Her blood boiled with bitterness as he came to mind.
Her phone showed an incoming video call from Brandon—why was he using video? That’s so awkward. She hadn’t even looked in a mirror all day.
“No problem, Nick. See you tomorrow.”
She clicked over to answer the call from Brandon. “Hey, trouble.”
“What? I’m not trouble! Quick question, can I come to your show?”
Brandon’s dashing smile was as distracting as it had been a few days ago.
“You look beautiful, by the way,” he continued. “Are you okay? You seem . . . frustrated.”
Suddenly insecure about her appearance, she tried to dispel Todd from her mind. Thinking of him was always an introduction to major frustration. “Um . . . thank you, and of course. The more the merrier. Bring your friends. This is my first show and a way to get my name out there. We’re setting up right now and doing the last rehearsals.” She took a deep breath and exhaled. “I’m so nervous, but yes, you can come. Just don’t expect too much from me. I’m still kind of an amateur.”
“You’re not an amateur. It’s going to be amazing. I feel it, and it’s okay to be nervous. This is big. I can’t wait to see you in action at the show. What kind of flowers do you like?”
Jordan blushed. “I don’t know. Why?”
“No reason. Bye, beautiful.”
That evening, Jordan dropped by the hospital to have dinner with her mom, and afterward, she decided to visit Brandon’s mother since she was just in the opposite wing of the building. Perhaps Kim Kuvat could give her some inside information on her son, the man who’d decided to randomly show up and disrupt the steady flow of her thoughts and life.
But that priority was forgotten as soon as she pulled a chair up next to the bed and fell into a long conversation. Mrs. Kuvat was a delight, and it was clear how much she loved her family.
“Brandon’s my only child, my baby. I don’t think I would be here without him. He’s my strength,” Kim confessed. “A pain in the ass sometimes, but he keeps me going. He’s so full of life.”
“What about your husband?” Jordan asked.
“Oh, he’s wonderful. I mean, we’ve had our ups and downs, like any marriage. But I love them both with everything I have. It’s just that Brandon has a way of dealing with sadness by being . . . Brandon.” Kim’s eyes glistened with tears, though she smiled. “He’ll laugh and joke, and you never know when that boy is hurting. He’s strong that way.
“But his father, he wears his emotions on his sleeves. You see where I’m going with this. Brandon hasn’t lost his edge, so it gives me hope. But Dan, I try to be strong for him.” She smiled. “I still remember it like yesterday when I gave birth to Brandon. We were both scared, but Dan was the worst. He looked like he was about to pass out. You’d have thought he was the one giving birth. Then the nurse handed us this adorable baby boy. We were so young, not ready for that, but Brandon was beautiful, everything was. Later on, Brandon was falling right into his father’s footsteps, until . . .” Kim looked up at Jordan with uncertainty. “How long have you and my son been dating?”
Jordan’s eyes widened; she wasn’t ready for Kim to stop. She had a feeling what she was about to reveal was important, but it was probably meant for a potential daughter-in-law, not an intruder who wasn’t even dating her son.
Jordan nibbled on her lip before responding in a small voice. “We’re not. We’re just friends.”
Kim frowned. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just thought since he brought you here . . .” She shook her head. “What a conniving little—I know what he was doing. Trying to be slick, probably thinking you’d never see me again. Do you know if he has a girlfriend?”
“He hasn’t mentioned any to me.”
Did she know her son was “promiscuous,” as he’d put it? Talk about awkward. Speaking about Brandon’s relationship status with his mother was not something she should be doing, at all. It wasn’t her place, and poor Kim didn’t know they’d met each other . . . exactly a week ago.
“I’m so worried about him,” she continued. “He’s thirty and doesn’t seem to be anywhere close to finding someone to build a life with. It’s so horrible, because I think it’s because of his past. I just want him to be happy, Jordan.”
Kim’s words hit home for her, too, with that, Jordan realized she and Brandon might have more in common than she’d thought.
“I’ve been pushing him. I know it’s because I’m sick, and it’s wrong. But my dream is for him to get married, or at least fall in love. I want it to be possible for him, Jordan. He assures me he’s happy and dismisses the idea, but as a mom, of course I’m not satisfied with his answer.” Kim sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to scare you off with my worries. I’m just concerned about my baby.”
“Mothers tend to do that,” Jordan consoled. She smiled. “My mom drives me crazy about the same things. To be honest, sometimes I almost want to pull my hair out.”
“Oh, I’ve heard. I spoke to your mom a few days ago, and I gathered you’re another stubborn child when it comes to that.”
Jordan let out a nervous laugh. Of course I would get myself in trouble protecting stupid Brandon.
“It’s hard to find a good guy. I’m not going lie, it pains me sometimes because I feel like there isn’t anyone out there for me.” Jordan lowered her eyes to hide the sadness that pulled on her insides. “Mrs. Kuvat, I’m a woman. It’s not like I don’t have dreams of being married and having a baby or two, but I’d rather not think about it, especially if it’s not something I can see in my near future. That would be too depressing, especially when in some ways, I, too, am living in the past.” Shit, did I say all of that out loud?
“Sweetie, don’t worry. Everything will work out for you. You have time,” Kim said. “I don’t know what I’m complaining about. I’ve lived a great life with my family. I had Brandon when I was sixteen, way before I should have. I suppose now that my time is short, I’ve become selfish with my own needs. But you know what? You two should do whatever makes you happy, because in the end, that’s what everything is about—the things and people who bring happiness to your life. You’ve opened my eyes, and Brandon can thank you for that. He’s off the hook for now.”
Jordan laughed. “I can see why he adores you. I’m glad he introduced us.”
“I am, too, sweetheart. I don’t get to meet a lot of people in here or at the house,” Kim said. “Not fun at all, but I have life, and that trumps everything, especially hospital food.”
“Is it too forward of me to ask what happened to you? Brandon never talks about it.”
“Melanoma. I thought it was just age spots. But it wasn’t. I didn’t find out what was going on until a few months ago. My doctor saw it when I went for a checkup, but it had already started to spread. That’s why I keep telling Brandon to live every day as if it was his last. Because you never know.”
“And that I do.”
Jordan jumped at the sound of Brandon’s voice.
Seeming just as surprised to see her, his piercing gaze locked on hers, and the wild thumping in her chest distracted her as she stared into his eyes. How could anyone resist this man?
“Jordan, what are you doing here?”
“Um, I brought my mom lunch—I mean, dinner—some time ago. Then I stopped by to say hello to your mom,” Jordan explained.
“Oh, well, hope I’m not interrupting,” Brandon said, walking toward the hospital bed and her chair.
The sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up over his forearms, and that, in combination with his tanned skin and green eyes, left her unable to think.
“Shouldn’t you be on stage practicing your catwalk, beautiful?”
“Very funny,” Jordan said, rising from the chair before the casual way he tossed around the word beautiful landed her in his bed. “I must go. I’ll come see you again, Kim. It was nice talking to you.”
“What’s this catwalk business? Are you a model, too? I know your mother said you owned a store,” Kim said.
“No.” Jordan sniffed. “I’m planning to launch a winter fashion line, and I have a spot in the Los Angeles Fashion Week event tomorrow night. Brandon was only trying out his dry sense of humor, as usual.”
“Wow! Oh my goodness. I would love to see pictures or videos of the show. You have to come by again when you have time and show me. I’ll be home next week.” Kim smiled through chapped lips.
“I got you, Mom. I’m planning to video the whole thing,” Brandon said as Jordan looked up at him.
For an instant, she wondered if that was the reason he’d wanted to come to the show, so he could record it for his mom. His intentions were vague, and she didn’t know what he wanted. He had said he wanted them to be friends, at least for the trip this weekend, and that was if she decided to take him up on his outrageous offer.
But it wouldn’t be a good idea, especially with her ready to swoon each time he called her beautiful.
Barely twenty-four hours later, after coming out of Richie’s embrace, Jordan hugged her best friend. Her section of the fashion show had just ended, and she was almost in tears from the rush of it all.
“Adrianna, oh my gosh, it’s over! I can’t believe that just happened.”
“I know. You did it! I’m so proud of you,” Adrianna said.
Jordan’s mother, Jamie, her friend Samantha, and her brother, Sebastian, approached her.
“Jo, that was amazing!” Sam yelled. “Oh my gosh, you did so awesome.”
“Baby, I’m so proud of you!” Jamie said, tucking her daughter’s hair—which had been professionally curled for the event—behind her ear.
Tonight hadn’t been only about being presentable for the crowd, as one particular person had kept appearing in Jordan’s mind while she selected her wardrobe—which was how she’d ended up in a white, sleeveless chiffon top, a cream, mid-thigh, lace skirt, and her tallest stilettos.
“Jordan Artesian, I was instructed to personally hand these to you,” one of the backstage crew members said as he handed over a bouquet.
The assortment of bold colors and lavish blooms arrested her attention. From fuchsia orchids to peach gillyflowers, the bunch had everything—lilies, tulips, daises, and roses. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.
“Who are they from?” Jordan asked, out of breath as she accepted them.
But then, without a doubt, she knew. Dead center in the bouquet was the same type of pink rose Brandon had given her a few days ago. She bit her lip. He’s here.
“I don’t know.” The crew member shrugged. “He didn’t say.”
“Ooh! Someone has a secret admirer,” Richie cooed.
She rolled her eyes at him. “We need to take our merchandise to the vehicle or we’ll be here all night. No time for a celebration right now.” She turned to her friends and family. “I don’t want to run you guys off, because I really appreciate the support, and you being here means so much, but I’ll celebrate with you later, I promise. Right now, I need to help these guys out.” Jordan couldn’t help but sniff the rose at the center of the bouquet as she dismissed everyone.
“What she’s saying is, she needs some time alone with her flowers,” Richie remarked, teasing her before scampering off.
“What does the note say?” Adrianna asked.
“I think I know who it’s from,” her mother taunted.
“Mom, no, you don’t. It’s time for you to go too. Come on, guys, I still have work to do,” Jordan said, ushering her mom and brother to the exit.
“What’s this about, Mom?” Her brother was short and stocky, so she stood a few inches above him in her heels. “Is Jordan seeing someone?” he asked.
“No. Jeez. See you later, Sebastian. You do still need me to babysit later tonight, right?”
“Yes, you know I need you,” Sebastian replied. “I’ll see you later. See you, Sam, Adrianna.”
Jordan turned around to find Adrianna’s arms folded across her chest, still standing her ground with Sam. “You’re hiding something. Are those from that dude you had dinner with? You never did tell me what happened that night, Jordan. Did you kiss him?”
“What? Nothing happened,” Jordan snapped.
But Adrianna didn’t budge. “Then why so defensive? Did you have sex with him?”
“Adrianna, no!” She checked her surroundings as her body heated from embarrassment—and desire for Brandon. “I’m not done working, and I have to pick up Sebastian’s son on the way home. I’ll talk to you guys tomorrow, I promise.”
Her friends knew everything there was to know about her, but she wanted to keep Brandon a secret. Because frankly, she had no idea what would happen between them, and she was having too much fun to have her friends point out the facts so soon. It might have been stupid to make herself vulnerable to Brandon, but it was the first time in years she’d been close to feeling something.
“Are you planning to see him again?” Sam asked.
Her cheeks flushed. “I don’t know. We had dinner. It wasn’t a date. No more questions. I have to go.”
“Fine,” Adrianna conceded. “See you tomorrow. Congrats again on your show.”
With her friends out of sight, Jordan finally had the bit of privacy she needed to open the small card tucked into the bouquet.
Congratulations! I knew you’d do amazing.
P.S. Check your email, beautiful.
Five-year-old Max ran up to Jordan and hugged her legs. As she lifted him and spun him around, he screamed in laughter and excitement until she set him down and ruffled his soft blond hair. She swore the kid gained five pounds every time she lifted him. He was nothing like the delicate little baby she’d once carried.
“I haven’t seen you in forever,” Max said, his missing front teeth creating a lisp.
Max’s mother and Sebastian were divorced, and Sebastian had been granted full custody of his son. But between his hectic work schedule and trying to get a new job, he needed Jamie and Jordan to assist with Max whenever possible.
Jordan kneeled in front of Max, a wide grin on her face. It had only been two weeks since she’d last seen the little guy. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Auntie has been so busy, but yay—now you get to come home with me!”
Sebastian handed over Max’s overnight bag. “Thanks, sis. You’re the best.”
By the time Jordan got home, it was Max’s bedtime. She read him one of his favorite books while smoothing his hair. That’s when her emotions decided to haunt her, leading her to wonder about the future and when the opportunity would arise for her to be a mom—if she was ready, or if it was even still possible.
After Todd, she’d stuck to her promise of securing her future by going after what she wanted, but a few years later now, her personal life was still on hold. Jordan didn’t know what was scarier: starting a relationship that wasn’t guaranteed or starting one with the person she liked, who happened to be a womanizer. The worst part was that he’d flat out told her who he was, yet instead of running in the opposite direction, she wanted to run to him.
What in the ever-living fuck was wrong with her? A lot of time had passed since her last relationship, but when time was the only doctor to an injured heart, it should have been helping her heal. It seemed that wasn’t the case, as her moodiness with Brandon had shown.
Healing hadn’t happened during the years she’d been hiding behind a wall. So essentially, healing had just begun, and though her heart was ready, her mind was nowhere close.
Brandon Kuvat, though, he was a good start. And if she was going to figure out what it was about him that tugged at her, she had to get to know him a bit more.