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Then silence fell.
She could almost hear the never ending list of questions that had to be rolling around in Jordan’s head. Where were her people? What about her security team? And why the road trip?
Chloe pushed them all away. This was a moment for her to take stock. To acknowledge the changes that had happened in her life. And to calmly accept that there were more changes, and challenges, to come.
Removing the key from the lock, she stood staring at the door to her home.I wonder when I will be back here again.Placing a hand on the decorative glass side panel she made a silent vow.This is my home. I will do whatever it takes to save this place … for me.
Wiping away an unbidden tear, she straightened her back and turned on her heel. Jordan was still standing alongside the car. A contemplative expression sat on his face. He knew she loved this house, she’d told him enough times. But Chloe couldn’t find the strength to tell him the truth, that without the Las Vegas gig, she may have to sell her home.
Jordan was now a stranger to her, not someone in whom she could confide. Their relationship had crashed and burned, leaving no survivors.
He is here for the Vegas job, nothing more. Get through the next eight months and rebuild your life. And then forget you ever knew Jordan Royal.
As she approached the car, Jordan held out a black baseball cap. “You might want to put this on, along with your dark sunglasses. At least until we get out of the city.” He pointed toward the windows of the SUV. Unlike the other vehicles in which Chloe normally travelled about LA, the Defender didn’t have full black out on the glass. People would be able to see inside.
Chloe reached into her tote and with great flourish produced her own baseball cap. Hers was far superior to the one Jordan offered—it had its own sewn in blonde wig. Dropping the bag to her feet, she scooped up her hair and after tucking it under the wig, pulled the hat down low.
This isn’t my first rodeo, buddy.
“Let’s go.”
CHAPTERFORTY
The LA mid-morning traffic moved at a stop, start pace, but they were actually making decent time. The only thing that annoyed Jordan was Chloe’s choice of music.
After an hour and a half of what felt like hearing the same techno track being played on a continuous loop, Jordan hit the music symbol on the infotainment system. The techno beat disappeared and a ’90s pop song filled the cabin.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Chloe’s lilac painted fingernails as she reached out and punched the same button he had just hit. The deafening techno tune returned.
“If you don’t like my taste in music, then at least have the manners to ask me to change it, don’t just override my choices.”
Jordan bit his bottom lip. They had barely made it out of the greater Los Angeles area, and with four more hours of driving ahead, he wasn’t sure if his temper would hold. He had to let off at least a little steam.
“Alright. I hate this damn music. If you can call it music. And I would prefer that you played something else, something which won’t have my brain exploding while I am behind the wheel of a fast-moving automobile. Was that clear enough for you?”
Chloe huffed. “I wouldn’t say this traffic has us moving at any real speed, but that’s because you were determined to take this route, rather than the I-10. You should have let me work the navigation system.”
His teeth crushed once more into his bottom lip. At this rate, he was going to draw blood well before they reached Barstow. “I took the route which had the least amount of roadwork. When we left your house, the GPS said this was the fastest one.”
She had changed, and not for the good. While he appreciated Chloe finally voicing her own opinion, Jordan was less than impressed that she seemed determined to ride his ass all the way to Nevada. Had Marta been giving her lessons? It sure felt like it.
“I want to stop for more coffee,” she demanded.
“And I want you to turn that techno shit off,” he snapped back.
He’d had years of experience in squabbling with Matthew to have him prize-fight fit for this sort of encounter. Jordan could go toe-to-toe, tit-for-tat for hours. If Chloe wanted another coffee, she was going to have to be the one to cave.
“Did you ever watch the TV series, Supernatural?” he asked.
“No, why?”
Pity. Because if you did, you would know the rules. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.
“Nothing, just making conversation. Now would you like to turn the music down, or preferably off, so I can focus on finding a place to stop for coffee?”
Jordan would had loved to explain the Supernatural reference, but things were tense enough already. The last thing he needed was for Chloe to arrive in Vegas thoroughly pissed off and looking to have him bounced from the manager gig. He could just imagine having to handle the phone call from Bryce, his new boss.
His career was sitting on a bar stool at the last-chance saloon, and he was not going to stuff this up.
