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Ouch, that one landed square in the middle of his face. He was batting one to two on this, and Chloe was swinging hard.
This new version of her was someone he hadn’t met before. She was sharper around the edges than the girl he had first met in Berlin. He was struggling to find the Chloe who had spent that magical night in his arms in Paris. The woman he had fallen in love with, then lost.
There was a spark missing. This Chloe was a battle hardened, super defensive, take no prisoners, all-terrain version of her former self. And by defensive, he meant she was always ready to attack.
He’d also come armed for battle, but it was now apparent that if one of them didn’t change their tactics, they were going to be constantly at one another’s throats. Resigned to his fate, Jordan decided he was going to have to take care in which battles he picked with Chloe.
Placing the rucksack carefully into the back of the SUV along with the rest of his belongings, Jordan reached into the front and pulled out a take-out coffee cup. He handed it to Chloe. “Hot and fresh. I got it from the drive-through coffee place just down the hill. Consider it a peace offering.”
She gave him a dark look of suspicion but took the drink from his hands. She held the thin, scalding-hot paper cup with ease. “Thank you. What’s in it?”
“Strong flat white. No sugar. Real milk. Oh, and extra hot, just how you like it.”
Her brows knitted together in confusion. Had she seriously expected him to have forgotten her coffee order? Theirs might have been a short, intense relationship but Jordan could remember just about everything that he and Chloe had done together. All the nights they had sat up late and talked. All the early morning coffee runs and then hiding the evidence from Marta’s prying eyes.
Chloe moved closer and Jordan got his first real lungful of her perfume. The other day she’d been across the table from him, but now she was close. How was he going to survive the drive to Las Vegas if his senses were filled with her scent? Her perfume had lit the touchpaper for his cravings.
“Thank you, Jordan. That’s very kind of you.”
Jordan wanted nothing more than to close the car door and refuse to start their journey until she’d answered the thousand questions which filled his mind. He wanted to rip the Band-Aid off before they left Beverly Hills.
But a little voice inside his head cautioned him to take things slowly. That if he went down this road, they might never get out of LA.
The universe as always was listening. Jordan’s cell buzzed and a message from Matthew popped up.
Good luck today. Hope it all goes well. We need this. M.
His brother’s message was a timely reminder. Confronting Chloe could well jeopardize this contract. With her wealth and fame, she mightn’t need the Vegas gig, but he did. The company did.
“I am happy to bring you fresh coffee every day, Chloe. My job is to make you happy. Give you everything you need. I trust you will let me know if there comes a time when I don’t measure up to expectations.”
* * *
Measure up to her expectations, was he kidding? She’d come ready for battle, and Jordan had brought her favorite coffee. He’d even remembered how she loved her joe. Strong, and hot. And with real milk.
Chloe didn’t miss the daily lectures she used to endure from Marta about the merits of oat and almond milk. She had no issue with any form of milk, figuring that everyone had their tastes as to how they liked their beverages. In the land of the free, people should be able to decide how they had their coffee.
That would make a terrible song lyric, but I reckon I could spin it into a jingle.
Only a matter of months ago she would have thought such an idea ludicrous, she was a multi award winning songwriter, and didn’t need to write commercials. But Foster’s betrayal had taught her that it paid to keep one’s options open.
Jordan glanced over his shoulder at the SUV. “Was that bag all you are bringing on the road trip, or is everything else coming with your manager and the rest of your entourage on theChloe Jet?”
Chloe stepped past Jordan and slipped her coffee cup into one of the cupholders on the passenger side of the SUV’s cabin. “No, I have a couple more things.”
She dashed back into the house and grabbed her statement Louis Vuitton rolling trunk. After pulling it outside, she went back for her aluminum trunk. This workhorse of a suitcase weighed fifteen pounds when it was empty, and usually only flew on theChloe Jetas many of the commercial airlines refused to allow such oversized luggage.
“Here let me take that,” said Jordan, as Chloe dragged the enormous silver suitcase over the threshold and onto the driveway. He tugged on it once, then grumbled. “What the devil have you got in here?”
“The devil wouldn’t fit. He’s still sleeping naked in my bed. The rest of the stuff are things I need,” huffed Chloe.
That was a cheap shot, Chloe. Now he thinks I have someone else. Oh well.
It took the two of them to lift the suitcase into the back of the SUV. Jordan swore loudly as his thumb got caught between the suitcase and the car’s floor board. Chloe wasn’t going to apologize for having let go of the case a little too early.
“It’s a good thing the tailgate opens up like a door, otherwise it might have been a struggle to get this inside,” she said, offering him a smile.
The words “Shut up” followed her as she went back into the house. After grabbing her oversized bright red leather tote, Chloe set the security alarm system and locked the front door. A still grumbling Jordan slammed the tailgate closed.
