Finding Forever (2 page)

Jake didn’t know how to react. Did she blame him? Did she not trust herself around him? Or was she simply happy with her life here and not interested in letting anyone from her California past back in?

There were plenty of questions he wanted to ask, but before he could, that Carl guy was there, putting his hand on Jordan’s shoulder. “You should respect the lady’s wishes,” he said. “You’re not what she needs right now.”

Since Dottie Morrison back in Waterloo, Iowa had raised her son to be a gentleman who respected women, Jake did as Jordan and Carl asked. He also declined to provoke Carl into a fight, because his mother wouldn’t approve of that, either.

Granted, it wouldn’t have been the first time Dottie disapproved of something Jake did—and probably not the last—but he’d also explicitly promised Val there would be no trouble in Grande Valley. Jake nodded curtly at Jordan and her beau, turned and went to his car.

He arrived at his hotel to find his luggage had been delivered, along with a courier package containing an updated movie script. He flipped through it as he called Greg, who not surprisingly had left two more messages. “Sorry, my phone was off,” Jake explained.

“Where have you been?” the agent wanted to know.

Jake hesitated. If he said he was at an AA meeting, Greg might be alarmed and full of questions. “In church,” he said. It was true enough.

Greg let out a snort of laughter. “You’re full of surprises, Morrison.”

“I try.”

“Did the script get delivered?”

“I’m looking at it right now.”

“Great,” Greg said. “Reece wants to see you at nine tomorrow to go over the first scene. I guess there are some changes.”

Jake flipped back to the movie’s first scene, which prominently featured his character. It was one of the things that appealed to Jake about the film. Reece White, first billing after the title, and the first scene, which was quite a dramatic one. He just hoped the changes didn’t involve reducing his role. He’d been through that too many times before. “Okay. Where at?”

“Your hotel. He’ll buy you breakfast.” Greg laughed. “I told you were hitting the big time here, Jake.”

“Thanks, Greg.” At least he was hitting the big time with something.

***

Jordan settled back into the booth at Mac’s Diner and watched as the waitress filled two mugs with coffee. Did anyone else drink coffee at seven o’clock at night besides recovering alcoholics, she wondered? Maybe that was why it struck a chord with her when Jake suggested they go for coffee. Part of her wanted to say yes, even though she knew it wa
s a bad idea. If Jake had persisted, she didn’t know what she might have done. Then Carl was there, like he always was when she needed him.

“You did a brave thing tonight, Jordan,” he said.

Jordan picked up her mug and took a drink. At least he didn’t ask her if she was okay, a question she’d long ago tired of hearing. She’d considered going by Beth’s house after the meeting, but she knew that would be the first question her friend asked. There was something to be said for hanging out with fellow alcoholics. They hated that question as much as she did. “Is that why I feel like a coward?”

“I meant brave for
volunteering to lead a meeting under difficult circumstances,” Carl said.

“I needed to do it.” Normally, she found solace simply in listening to other’s stories. Tonight, she wasn’t sure that would be enough. She blamed that on her own inherent weakness, as well as the pull of Jake Morrison. ‘Once more, for old time’s sake’ sounded way too good to her. “It beat the alternative.”

“It always does.” Carl reached across the table and squeezed her hand.

His touch was safe and comforting, and Jordan was grateful to have a friend like him, even though a part of her wondered what could have been if she’d accepted Jake’s invitation. The first one, for a drink, would have only led to disaster. She’d gone down that road with Jake years before and it almost cost Jordan her job. A little further
down the road, and she would have lost not only her job, but her law license, too. It was a path Jordan couldn’t travel anymore.

Coffee with an old friend, though, was something else. There was no harm in that, right? Except Jake wasn’t really an old friend, and therein lay the problem.

Jordan traced a pattern with her finger on the placemat in front of her. “Still, it’s a pretty jarring way to find something out about someone. I feel like I owe him more of an explanation,” she said. “I just wasn’t up to giving it tonight.”

“So you give it a few days, ‘til you know you’re strong enough for it, and you give him one,” Carl said with a shrug. “Or you let it go, get on with your life, and try to forget he ever walked back into it. I think you know which one I prefer.” He smiled wryly.

“I do, yes.” Jordan rolled her eyes. At least he didn’t go all macho with Jake and try to assert a claim over her, though that whole part about Jake not being what she needed came close enough. She reached for her menu. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

***

Jake slid onto a stool at the hotel bar.

The bartender sauntered over. “What can I get you?”

“Whatever you have on draft that’s good.” At this point, he wasn’t feeling too picky.  “And I’ll need some food, too.”

“Tortilla soup is the house special today.”

“Sounds perfect.” Actually, what sounded perfect was spending an evening catching up with the only woman he’d met in Los Angeles who managed to leave any sort of lasting impression on him, but he’d managed to completely blow that. ‘Once more, for old time’s sake?’ Yeah, brilliant, Jake. Jordan probably thought he was just looking for an easy lay. Hell, his own publicist assumed the same thing.

The bartender set a pint in front of him. “Here you go. Soup’ll be out in a couple minutes.”

Jake nodded. “Thanks.” He put the glass to his lips and savored the taste of the cold, amber liquid as he swallowed. It was exactly what he needed after a long day of travel to the stifling desert heat, and he refused to feel any guilt about it. Still, it was impossible not to think about Jordan or the other people at the meeting whose stories he’d listened to. Especially Jordan. There were a thousand things he wanted to say to her and questions he wanted to ask, if he ever got the chance.

The bartender returned, setting a bowl of soup in front of him. “So what brings you to Grande Valley? Business or pleasure?”

“Looks like just business for now.”

“Nice town, if you can stand the heat this time of year. Enjoy your stay. Holler if you need anything else.”

Jake thanked him and proceeded to eat in silence, absently watching the TV up above the bar, which was tuned to the Texas Rangers game. An attractive brunette a few stools down tried to get his attention, but he paid her little mind. One mention that he was in town to work on Reece White’s latest movie and Jake was pretty sure he’d have a willing companion for the night. He said nothing to her and drained his glass.

“Get you another?” the bartender asked.

“No, thanks.” Jake shook his head. “I’ve got some work to do.” He tossed enough bills on the bar to cover the bill plus a hefty tip and went up to his room to study the script.

Val didn’t want him to land in any trouble in Texas? She had nothing to worry about.

***

Jordan unlocked her front door and was immediately greeted by a fat, grumpy cat that let out a loud ‘meow,’ apparently not pleased that her human was late getting home.

“Hey, Cujo.” Jordan bent down to pet the cat. “You been holding down the fort in my absence?”

The response was a louder ‘meow,’ causing Jordan to laugh.

“Yeah, I get it. You’re hungry. You don’t much look like you need to eat, though,” she teased as she opened a tin of cat food. Cujo had expensive taste, but Jordan couldn’t fault her for it. After all, it ran in the family.

Cujo settled in to eat and Jordan went down the hall to change clothes, relieved to be out of a skirt and heels and into yoga pants. She was even more relieved that Carl had rightfully assumed she needed to be alone and not asked to come to her house after dinner.

She went back to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of green tea from the fridge, then sat down on the couch and booted up her laptop.  Jordan propped her feet on the coffee table as Cujo jumped onto the couch beside her. “Okay, fine, just don’t walk on my keyboard,” she instructed the cat. “Mama’s got work to do.”

Her web browser opened to Google and she typed ‘Border Cowboys’ into the search box.

Reece White already sat in a corner booth at the hotel restaurant when Jake arrived. He stole a quick glance at his watch to make sure he wasn’t late. Nope. Three minutes early. Good. The last thing he needed was a reputation for being late before the movie even started shooting.

“Morning, Jake.” Reece stood and extended his hand. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Likewise.” Jake shook his hand and sat down in the booth. Reece was younger than Jake by about six years, but after already notching an Oscar nomination and a win at the Sundance Film Festival, no one discounted the young director’s talent. “Greg said you want to talk about the first scene?”

“In a minute.” Reece sat back down. “When’d you get in town? How are you settling in?”

“Yesterday afternoon,” Jake said. “And settling in okay.” Aside from completely blowing his reunion with Jordan, that is. “The heat’s going to be an adjustment.”

The director laughed. “Always is, for folks not from around here. I’m used to it, though I’m a little partial to Austin, where it sometimes actually rains.” He shrugged. “Where are you from again? Idaho?”

“Iowa,” Jake corrected. He never understood why people always seemed to confuse the two. One was famous for potatoes, the other corn. And it’s not as if they were close geographically.

“Right. Sorry about that,” Reece said. “Anyway, glad to have you here for this shoot, Jake.”

He actually sounded like he meant it. Jake smiled. “Happy to be here. It’s an honor to be able to work with you.” Hopefully he wasn’t laying it on too thick.

“I wasn’t sure about you at first,” Reece said. “I’m not generally too impressed by actors who start out in soap operas. Then there was that story in the tabloids a few months back...”

Jake never liked his start in soaps being dissed. After all, everyone had to start somewhere, and he thought he’d learned some valuable things about the business. And his first role on
Passions
introduced him to Jordan. The mention of the tabloids concerned him more, though. “That was unfortunate,” he acknowledged. “But as I’m sure you’re aware, there are two sides to every story.”

The Exposer
ran Macy’s side, and Jake didn’t doubt she’d been paid handsomely for it. If Reece wanted to hear his, Jake would tell it, but he much preferred to concentrate on work.

“Indeed.” Reece waved a hand. “I’m not concerned. I talked to enough people who speak very highly of you, and even if they didn’t, I still might have taken a gamble on you because you nailed that screen test.” His voice grew more animated. “I mean, nailed it. You
are
Lance, man.”

“I...
wow.” Jake wasn’t accustomed to such ebullient praise, especially from award-winning directors. He tried to regain some sense of composure. “As soon as I saw the script, I knew I wanted the part. I like complex characters and complex plots.”

“And you don’t mind that some people might see Lance as a bad guy?”

“No.” Jake shook his head. He knew the character walked a fine line between noble and corrupt. Jake saw that as part of the appeal. “I like the challenge. I’ve waited a long time for a chance like this.”

“I figured you’d say that, so I didn’t think you’d mind the changes to the first scene.”

“The gunshots, you mean?” As soon as he’d looked at the revised script, Jake knew what had changed. Three shots instead of one. His character would be firing more shots across the Mexico border, aimed at the young man suspected of smuggling drugs, setting up doubt as to whether Lance acted to protect the U.S. border, or if he opened fire with intent to kill.

***

Now that Trey Lozano’s trial and sentencing were done, Jordan found herself with a little more down time in her schedule. It was nice to be able to take a real lunch hour rather than simply wolfing down a container of yogurt at her desk while she caught up on emails. Since they weren’t courtroom adversaries at the moment, she could also ask Beth to join her. Thankfully, her friend accepted the invitation.

“Have you heard about the new movie that’s filming in town?” Jordan asked as they sat
down at their favorite Mexican restaurant.

“Yeah, vaguely. What’s it called again?”

“
Border Cowboys
,” Jordan said. “I guess ‘cowboy’ is the term for the drug smugglers.” She figured she was an expert on the movie by now, since she’d read everything she could find about it online the night before.

“That’s right. Aaron’s excited. He’s a fan of the director.” Beth dipped a tortilla chip in green tomatillo salsa. “I think it sounds a little too dark and gritty for me, and my job takes me as close to the drug violence as I care to be.”

Jordan considered that as she took a bite out of her taco. It wouldn’t normally be her type of movie, either, but now she found herself very curious. Or maybe she was just curious about the guy in it. “I know one of the actors,” she said. “Former client, actually.” It was impossible to ignore the irony that when she’d been in law school in Grande Valley, she couldn’t wait to get back to California to make her mark in the entertainment industry. Instead of representing top Hollywood stars, though, her clients were more along the lines of what she used to call C-minus list. Now here she was, back in Grande Valley, and along comes Jake, ready to hit the big time. “He showed up in my office yesterday.”

“After all these years, your former client’s in town for a movie, and he made a point of looking you up?” Beth asked. “Wow. You must have left quite an impression with that contract.”

There was nothing in Beth’s tone to indicate she thought there was anything else to it, but Jordan felt the heat rise to her cheeks and she doubted she could blame it on the hot salsa. She reached for her soda, avoiding Beth’s eyes. “I guess so.”

“Or was there perhaps a little more to it than drafting the terms of his salary and episode guarantees?”

“Perhaps.” Jordan kept her tone noncommittal.

“You had an affair with a client?” Beth’s eyes widened. “Why am I just now hearing about this?”

“Why don’t you shout it next time?” Embarrassed, Jordan looked around the restaurant to make sure no one was listening in on their conversation. Given how crowded the place was during the lunch rush, it seemed very unlikely. “I wouldn’t exactly call it an affair. It was more along the lines of a lot of drunken sex. As for not telling you before, it’s not a point in my life I’m particularly proud of, okay?” She reached for her water glass. “I hit rock bottom with Jake.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit a nerve.” Beth leaned forward. “And now you say he’s back? Here?”

“Yes. He wanted to go for a drink, for old time’s sake,” Jordan said. “Obviously, I couldn’t do that, so I suggested something else.” She told Beth what she did.

“You made him sit through an AA meeting, then told him to buzz off.” Beth exhaled. “Well, Jordan. You sure know how to welcome an old friend to town.”

Jordan winced at Beth’s perception of the events. She knew Beth would view the situation differently than Carl, but did she have to be so blunt? “What else was I supposed to do?”

Beth shrugged. “I don’t know. Tell him you don’t drink anymore and suggest pizza? At least find out what he wanted.”

“I know exactly what he wanted, and I’m no longer in the vodka and blow job business.”

Beth raised an eyebrow. “Really, now?”

“Okay, fine, I’m no longer in the vodka business,” Jordan muttered.

“That’s better.” Beth smirked. “Is he hot?”

“Gorgeous.”

“And you didn’t even give him a chance?” Beth sighed. “What am I going to do with you, Jordan? Don’t you get tired of being alone?”

What Jordan got tired of was her friend always looking to pair her up with someone, but she didn’t say that. “I’m not alone. I have Cujo and Carl.”

“Cujo’s an ill-tempered cat. Carl is a fuck buddy.”

“Carl is a dear and loyal friend who is always there for me when I need him and understands what I’ve been through, and vice versa,” Jordan said. “Being there for each other also sometimes involves satisfying a basic human desire for sexual activity.”

“Ergo, fuck buddy.” Beth laughed. “You’re just like Tracey,” she said, referring to a mutual friend and former classmate.

“Completely different,” Jordan said. She doubted Tracey would welcome the comparison. “Tracey loves Steve and they have a child together. She just refuses to marry him in order to further antagonize her mother.” Jordan didn’t necessarily approve, but it was Tracey’s decision.

“Whatever. One of these days I might team up with Sarah and have a marriage intervention for the two of you.” It wasn’t the first time Beth made such a suggestion.

“Please, no.” Jordan didn’t do anything to disguise her annoyance. They all might have made a great law school study group sixteen years ago, but since when did that mean they had to meddle in each other’s lives? “You like the idea of marriage because you grew up in a big, happy family with conservative values. Sarah likes it because only thirteen states and the District of Columbia give her the right to be married. And I’m thrilled you’re both happily married, but that doesn’t mean the rest of us need to be.”

“Whoa.” Beth let out a whistle. “Someone’s touchy.”

“I’m not touchy, just tired of this conversation.”

Beth held up her hands in surrender. “Fine. I won’t say anything else. Just do me a favor and think about something.”

“What?” If it got her friend to stop hounding her, Jordan figured it was worth it. Probably.

“Why do you feel as if you have to shut this guy out? I don’t think it’s just an issue of you being afraid he might tempt you to drink again,” Beth said. “Are you convinced all he wants is sex because of some misguided belief that’s all anyone would want from you? Or is it because you suspect he wants more, and therefore you have to avoid him as penance out of an equally misguided belief that since you’ve hurt people in the past, you don’t ever deserve to be happy?”

There were times Jordan appreciated how well Beth knew and understood her, and times when she found herself annoyed with her friend’s tendency to almost always be right. This fell in the latter category. “I’m not relationship material.”

“I’m not sure how you’d know that since you’ve never really tried to have one,” Beth countered. “And please, if you mention Matt Finney, I’m going to...” She shook her head. “If anyone wasn’t relationship material, it was him. And since I was the one he cheated on with you, I think I’d know.”

The fact that they could even have this conversation now, given that, was perhaps a minor miracle, but one Jordan was grateful for. “I have no model for successful relationships. My childhood wasn’t like yours.”

Beth responded with a barely-disguised eyeroll. “Plenty of people who have no model for successful relationships growing up still manage to have them.”

“So this is the part where you shoot down everything I say, huh?” Jordan chuckled.

Beth grinned. “That’s the plan,” she said before turning serious. “Don’t sabotage something before it even starts, Jordan. If you’re interested, if you want to know where it leads, at least give it a chance.”
              ***

An
older man with a slight paunch and a stern expression greeted Jake. “Joe Camacho, United States Customs and Border Protection.”

“Jake Morrison. Thanks for agreeing to meet with me.” Getting the security clearance hadn’t been easy, but Reece said that even though not everyone was thrilled with the movie they were filming, there were others who were willing to offer their expertise. After all, they couldn’t stop the film being made, but maybe they could control the accuracy of some of the content.

Camacho nodded. “You ready to go?”

He was a man of few words, which was okay with Jake. He wasn’
t there for conversation, but to learn. “Let’s do it.” He followed Camacho to a vehicle sporting the agency logo. It looked like a military tank.

“It’s fully armored,” Camacho said, as if reading Jake’s mind.

“Is that necessary?”

“These days, yes.”

Jake knew there was gang violence in his hometown, but he’d always been sheltered from it. The violence in border towns was something he only knew about in passing from the news on TV. That was why he was eager to meet with Agent Camacho and learn about his job. Entering the equivalent of a war zone, though, was another matter.

They drove in silence for a few minutes, until Camacho stopped the vehicle
. “This is the most popular crossing place.” He pointed. “That, right there, is Mexico. The river serves as a border between the two countries.” A slight laugh escaped this throat. “At least it’s
supposed
to be a river. With the drought these days it’s barely deep enough to be a wading pool.” He turned off the vehicle’s headlights and flipped a switch inside that activated night camera surveillance, enabling them to see activity on the other side of the border.

“Incredible,” Jake said.

“Where you from?”

“Iowa.”

Camacho laughed. “Then this ought to be quite an experience for you.”

***

Jordan watched as Carl dressed. The reason for his visit was done, now he would leave and go back to his place, and Jordan would be alone with her cat. Sexually satisfied, but alone.