Love's Paradise (5 page)

Jordan shook his head. “This day is getting better and better,” he grumbled as he grabbed his hard hat and sunglasses and followed Ian out the door. They headed toward the secondary site. He saw several workers gathered around in the distance. “I was just up here late last night and again earlier this morning. It looks like we have some vandalism going on again.”

“I'll make sure to file an official report. So, you were up here last night and then again early this morning. Tell me,” Ian began, “do you ever sleep at night or do you just roam around the site until dawn? No wonder you look like a zombie.”

Jordan chuckled and rubbed the stubble on his chin again. He hadn't shaved today. As a matter of fact he hadn't shaved in the past few days. “Are you gonna get all Dr. Oz on me?”

Ian laughed. “Yeah, it looks like I'm gonna have to.”

“Fine, I'll shave. I guess I've just been too busy getting this place up and running.”

“See, right there, that's just what I'm talking 'bout. You're letting this project get to you, man. Look at you, you don't have a life outside of this place and now you're starting to micromanage every minute detail. Let it go, man. Take a break. Chill out and relax. Check out some of the local flavor here on the island. Everybody needs some downtime, even you. When's the last time you even went out on a date?”

Jordan didn't reply.

“Uh-huh, that's what I thought. Man, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were doing that celibacy thing like your brother Julian.”

“Nah, man. That's not me.”

“Yeah, all right, if you say so,” Ian said skeptically. “Still, you need to take some time off and chill.”

Jordan knew Ian was right. He was trying to micromanage everything and everyone. It wasn't his style, but this job was too important to him. He didn't want any more unnecessary mistakes. “This island doesn't exactly compare to New York's nightlife. At least not yet,” Jordan said.

“No, granted it doesn't.” Ian chuckled. “But there are things to do here other than constantly work. I
know the company's got a lot of projects going on. But if you burn out, you're no good to anyone. You gotta relax, man. Trust me, this project will get done and if the blueprints and scale models are any indication, it's gonna be majorly impressive. But if you're gonna stress out for the next few months, we're gonna have a serious problem. Why don't you take the weekend off and hang around here? You know it's called God's garden for a reason. This place is like paradise.”

“Yeah, it is,” he agreed.

“Good, then take advantage of it.”

Suddenly suspicious, Jordan looked at Ian. “All right. Did my brothers put you up to this?”

Ian laughed. “Darius and Julian have nothing to do with this. I'm just saying…”

“All right, all right, I get it. Chill out, relax and have some fun. I'll add that to my to-do list. So what's going on up here?” Jordan asked as they neared the site.

“I have no idea,” Ian said, squinting against the sun's brightness just as his cell phone rang. He answered and quickly agreed. “It looks like it's just going to be one of those days.”

“What's up?” Jordan asked.

“First the backhoe hits something up here on that mound and blows a hydraulic valve and now there's a problem with one of the generators on-site.”

“What kind of problem?”

“I don't know. I doubt it's anything serious, but I'm gonna head back and check it out just in case.”

“Do you need the electrical plans?”

“Nah.”

“All right, I'll see what's going on up here and catch up with you later. Let me know if you need me,” Jordan said over his shoulder.

“All right, later,” Ian said as he turned and headed back toward the main building. Then he stopped, turned and called out, “Yo, Wilamina just texted you. You need to charge your phone. She just left two messages. Darius needs you to call him.”

“Yeah, he's called a few times. I'll get back to him later tonight,” he said. Moments later he approached the site. He heard a woman's voice giving what sounded like an extensive lecture on the importance of preserving history. He sighed heavily. After spending the entire morning and most of the afternoon dealing with nonsense, the last thing he needed to do was deal with someone camped out at his work site intent on causing trouble. Several of the men gathered nodded and spoke as he approached. Two men stepped aside as he walked to the front row to listen to the woman's tirade.

J
ordan's first thought was to immediately break this up, get everyone back to work and have Cleveland toss her out. He figured she was just another nutcase rabble-rouser there to cause trouble. They'd had a number of them when the project first started months ago. But seeing her, hearing her, he began to change his mind. She was certainly something to see, dressed in a perfectly tailored business suit and high heels. He smiled. Her passion was almost addictive.

He listened for a few more minutes and couldn't help but be fascinated as he watched this sexy troublemaker have her say. She stood with her back
to him, directly in front of his backhoe, preventing the shovel arm from moving. Her fists were planted firmly on her hips. The sight was a bit like David and Goliath, with the backhoe being Goliath. She turned around to make a point. He saw a determined scowl crease her soft brown complexion giving it a fiery red blush. He knew her instantly, but hesitated. She was very different than he remembered.

She was always attractive in a sweet girl-next-door kind of way, but now she was a sultry, hot firecracker and there was something temptingly enticing about her. Maybe it was her passion or her fire—either way he found her exciting. This certainly wasn't the tame, meek woman he'd met months ago.

Her dark, angry brown eyes narrowed and sparkled with enthusiastic zeal as she turned to make yet another point. He watched her mouth as she spoke. She had full, luscious, kissable lips lightly tinted with a soft coral that he doubted had much to do with cosmetics. She had high cheekbones and an elegant face and neck, perfect for the curly hair that barely touched her shoulders. It was obvious she believed in whatever she was talking about. He wondered just how passionate she was about other things. He knew the face and body, but not her name. “Do you know who she is?” he asked a couple of the workers standing beside him.

Both men shook their heads. Then Jamie, standing nearby, answered. “Yeah, that's Sheri Summers. She works at the museum here in town. She really knows her stuff when it comes to history. If she says something's there, it probably is.”

Jordan nodded and half smiled. “Is that right?” he muttered as he circled around to the side. She continued talking to the man leaning on the backhoe. Other workers who had gathered began to head back to the main work site. Jordan gazed down the length of her body. She certainly wasn't dressed for this confrontation. She wore a blue fitted skirt with a matching jacket, a white striped shirt and very high heels now covered in mud from the work site.

Her fervor seemed genuine. She appeared knowledgeable and determined to unearth whatever might be buried on the site. That intrigued him. Of course there was also her sexy body and air of self-confidence. He suddenly thought about what Ian had just said. Perhaps he wasn't experiencing enough of the local flavor.

“Look lady,” the machine operator repeated, obviously having grown frustrated arguing with her. “It's just a bunch of old decayed wood tossed in a hole. You act like this is Noah's Ark or something.”

“Noah's Ark isn't the only important ship in history. Have you ever heard of the
Amistad
or the
Zong?
They were also important ships. And both changed the course of history. At the time these
ships reignited the abolitionist movement and are remembered for changing the course of history. And for your information this island was named after another very important slave ship. It was called the
Crescent.
But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you? That ship's history changed the lives of thousands of people and to this day is a little known piece of Civil War history. So as you can see, it's not just a bunch of wood, as you so callously put it. It might possibly be the most important piece of wood on this island.”

Jordan knelt down and picked up a fragment of wood that had been pulled from the hole earlier that day. He examined it closely. It looked exactly like what it was, an old plank of waterlogged wood that had rotted and petrified over the decades. “What makes you think it's so important?” he asked, still feeling the rough edges of wood.

Sheri turned around quickly, seeing another construction worker kneeling down in the pile of debris. He was dressed like the others, jacket, jeans, work boots and hard hat. It looked as if he were trying to grow a beard and he had on dark sunglasses, so she couldn't see much of his face. But there was something very familiar about him.

“Well?” he prompted as he looked up at her.

“That's just it, Mr….” She paused.

“Hamilton. Jordan Hamilton,” he said, standing up. “This is my development site.”

Jordan Hamilton. Damn. Just like the last time, he took her breath away that fast. Good Lord. Yeah, she recognized him. He had a beard now, but even with the dark sunglasses and hard hat, she knew it was him. She remembered him, there was no way she'd forget, but apparently he didn't remember her since there was no sense of recognition in his face. She watched as his head dropped slightly. No one else noticed, but she did. He was checking her out just like he had before when Mamma Lou introduced them a few months ago. It was one of her matchmaking ploys, but it didn't work. Admittedly she was impressed when they met and apparently showed it. He went to get her a drink and returned with three women in tow. She just walked away.

“Mr. Hamilton, my name is Sheri Summers and this is my assistant, Genie Hopkins.” She walked over, pulled out and handed him her business card. “We're here from the Crescent Island Museum because we think this may be an important find.”

He took the card and looked it over. “It's not a find. It's a hole in the ground,” he corrected, looking at the card the assistant had given him.

This she remembered well. He was arrogant and stubborn. “For you, maybe. But there is a very good possibility it's more than just a hole in the ground.”

“But you don't know for sure,” he responded.

And contrary. “No, not for sure, not yet. We'll
need to take samples, run tests and possibly excavate a portion of—”

“Excavate?”

And attractive. “Yes, but all that takes time. We're asking for that time. For something this important you must realize keeping this site intact is crucial. So, no we're not one hundred percent sure, but even the most remote possibility should be explored and not dismissed out of hand.”

“So you do your tests and then what? In the meantime we're just supposed to stop working on your say-so?” he asked.

And sexy. She stiffened her chin firmly, more because of her own wayward thoughts than the discussion they were having. “I am highly qualified to make that call, if that's what you're implying.”

He looked directly at her. “How?” he asked.

She frowned at him slightly confused by the question. “What do you mean, how?” she asked.

“I mean, how are you highly qualified?”

“I'm a historian, and an anthropologist and a museum curator. I run the historical department in the Crescent Island Museum. The museum is a branch of the Smithsonian for which I also work. I've studied all over the United States and around the world. However, my specific area of expertise is Virginia history with an emphasis on Crescent Island. I doubt anyone knows the history of this island better than I do.”

“And your credentials…”

“Are impeccable, I assure you.”

Jordan shook his head. “Sorry, that's not good enough,” he said with a sense of authority. “It sounds like it's still just your word to me. Now if you'll excuse us, we have work to do.” He stepped back and turned to leave.

Sheri took a deep breath then slowly released it. She was seething inside. Apparently he was going to make this impossible. It was obvious he had no intention of hearing her out. He'd already made up his mind. She glanced around. Most of the men who had been standing around had begun to move on. “With all due respect, Mr. Hamilton, it's not just my say-so,” she called out, loud enough to stop him in his tracks. He turned back around. “It's the very real possibility of an extraordinary cultural discovery right here on this mound. However remote, it's still possible. I think that takes precedence over another concrete edifice to stroke some rich guy's superinflated ego.”

A few of the men still standing around shook their heads and openly chuckled at the obvious slight meant for him. “Well,” he said turning around to her, “be that as it may, that's just not good enough.” He walked back over to her. The other men standing around instantly moved back, giving him space. “I see no reason to hold this up any longer. You had your say, now you need to step
back and let my men do their jobs.” He turned to the man now sitting in the backhoe. “Okay, Leroy, start it up, let's get this done.” The machine roared to life again.

“No!” she yelled, stepping right into the path just as the machine lurched forward. “Wait!” She held her hands out as if to stop it all by herself. The shovel part of the backhoe jerked and slipped.

Jordan turned just as the shovel arm released. He dashed over and grabbed Sheri's waist and pulling her aside. “Are you insane or are you just off your meds this week? That machine could have killed you,” he yelled over the loud noise the machine's engine made. “You can't just step in front of a moving piece of equipment like that. The shovel arm swings down automatically when the machine is turned on. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? No, I don't suppose you do in your little history world.” He was obviously furious.

Sheri's body shook as she realized what had just happened. “I wouldn't have to step in front of that backhoe if you would have just listened to me in the first place,” she yelled back.

“I have listened to you. You made your point. Now it's your turn to listen to me. I'm not stopping this project for you or anyone else.”

“You have no idea what you're about to do,” she yelled.

“I'm about to get these men back to work,” he replied.

“You're destroying history,” she snapped.

“I'm building a resort,” Jordan snapped back. The engine was still on and he impatiently waved to the man sitting in the cab of the machine. He shut the engine off.

“You're destroying history,” she yelled again then lowered her voice as the engine subsided. By the time the machine's engine was completely silent, Jordan and Sheri were breathing hard as they glared at each other. Sheri looked down at his arm still around her. He was holding her close, too close, flush to his body. She looked back up at him. Her eyes were fiery. The corner of his lips twitched slightly. He released her slowly. Neither of them moved as they stared at each other face-to-face. He could swear he even heard her heart beating.

“Perhaps we should take this discussion into the office for a bit more privacy.”

Sheri looked around at the small gathering that had been enjoying her tirade and the dramatic rescue. Some had even begun applauding. This wasn't what she intended. She was a professional, but his stubbornness made her so angry. She nodded curtly then followed him down the path to the trailer where she had waited earlier. “Sheri, I'll wait for you at the front gate, okay?” Genie said, standing with her boyfriend.

Sheri nodded as Jordan held the door for her. As soon as she passed him in the doorway she smelled the light woodsy scent of his cologne. It made her insides tingle, but she took a deep breath and calmed down. She started restating her case immediately. “First of all there's nothing arbitrary about my request. In my opinion…”

“You're different…” he said, smiling.

“What?”

“…than before when we met—you're different.”

She smirked and shook her head. He did remember her. “No, I'm not different. I'm the same women you met and walked away from a few months ago.”

“No, I'd remember that. You walked away from me.”

“Then perhaps you didn't give yourself a chance to get to know me before forming an opinion about me.”

“Perhaps I didn't. My bad.”

“Getting back to our discussion…”

“And if in the end you find that it is just wood, what then?” he asked. “You would have cost this project hundreds of thousands of dollars in down-time and man-hours and delayed a project your board of supervisors agreed to back, then what?” She didn't respond. He nodded. “I didn't think so.” He turned and walked over to his desk.

“I'm not on the board of supervisors, so I don't know what deals you made with them.”

He whipped around and removed his sunglasses having felt the sting of her words hit too close to home. “I'm not in the habit of making deals with them or anyone else. I'm here to work and right now you're holding me up. So, unless you have a court order or a cease-and-desist letter, you're trespassing on private property. I'm gonna have to ask you to leave now.” He walked back over to the door.

“You have no right to—”

“On the contrary, Ms. Summers, I have every right,” he interrupted, clearly reaching his limit with the conversation.

“To destroy history,” she challenged.

“To protect my property,” he countered, “and right now this discussion is over.”

“You can't do that,” Sheri complained.

“You'd be surprised what I can do.”

That, and the seductive crooked smile on his face, silenced her. Jordan walked over to his front door again. “But for decency's sake, I'll make sure to inform you when or if we pull anything out of the hole that looks like it's worth anything.”

“Are you joking? No, absolutely not. That's not good enough. You're not a trained archaeologist. You have no idea what's of value and what's not. That's totally unacceptable.”

“Right now that's all you've got. Take it or leave it.”

She took a deep breath and glared at him. “I
guess I don't have much choice at the moment, do I?”