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Nicole frowned thoughtfully. Kevin McClaskey had published a quarterly trade newsletter and it had a respectable mailing list. They hoped to turn it into a magazine for the general public, but were still exploring the risks and possibilities. In the meantime, a blog seemed like a cost-effective way to gain an audience and it was something the others could work on, whether or not they were in Seattle.
It would be interesting to put the shoe on the other foot, so to speak, and turn the spotlight on a reporter. Jordan wouldn’t have to be referenced by name, though it might be pointless not to do so. Once the PostModern articles began appearing, everyone would know he was the one who’d been interviewing her.
“I’ll consider it,” she said.
* * *
AT 6:30 A.M. the next day, Nicole started for the park and found Jordan at the head of the fitness trail where they’d agreed to meet. He wore running shorts and a T-shirt that showed off his physique. Plainly he’d done more than swing in a hammock and sip piña coladas while in Fiji.
“Good morning,” she greeted him.
“Hi. As I said last night, I want to talk to you about Chelsea.”
“Is there a problem?” She began a series of stretching exercises in an attempt to appear relaxed and casual.
“It seems unusual to offer a job to someone you know nothing about.”
“Are you suggesting we’ll regret hiring her?” Nicole looked up, keeping her expression innocent.
“Not in the least. Chelsea was excellent at her last job and only left because someone she, er, needed to avoid was employed there, too.”
It fit what Nicole had suspected, that something particularly intense was going on in her new office manager’s life. Jordan obviously didn’t want to elaborate.
She nodded briskly. “Chelsea heard we needed someone and asked if she could apply. One of my partners is in town, so he interviewed her, then phoned for a reference and got a positive report. He was quite happy about hiring Chelsea, and we urgently need someone.”
Nicole didn’t think it was appropriate to offer more since Chelsea was now an employee of the agency. Adam’s only concern had been that Chelsea was overqualified and might not stay long for that reason. On the positive side, she might advance into being an agent for Moonlight Ventures; with her experience in human resources, she likely had the necessary skills. Adam had wondered if she would be able to deal with pushy or manipulative clients, but had still felt she should be given a chance.
Jordan didn’t answer immediately; he seemed to be formulating his answer. “This is an unusual situation. I’m doing a series of magazine articles about you and the agency. Those articles will give Moonlight Ventures a lot of publicity, and now my sister is working there.”
“Are you worried about your objectivity, or whether I’m trying to influence what you write?”
“Maybe both.”
“We already know you aren’t objective, so that’s your concern. And since I don’t think you trust me in any case, anything I say or do won’t make a difference.”
Surprise flashed through his eyes. “You don’t seem offended by that.”
“Why should I be? It’s far from the worst thing a reporter has suggested. Besides, as kids you always made it clear you disliked me, so you’re probably starting the interviews with a bad opinion of me, regardless.”
Now Jordan seemed completely nonplussed and she wondered if he was going to deny it. “You don’t believe I could have decided I was wrong about you?” he asked instead.
Nicole made a noncommittal gesture. “I haven’t seen any evidence to think so. You didn’t really know me when we were kids, but still disliked me. And from what I’ve picked up from my folks, our mothers still don’t get along. I never knew what happened that broke up their friendship, but it must have been bad. I doubt your mother has ever said anything positive about me or my family since then. Years ago she even conducted a brief, but vicious, social media campaign against us.”
Jordan looked appalled. “Mom?”
“Oh, yes. Apparently a few of her comments were rather libelous. She deleted everything after my dad’s lawyer mentioned a lawsuit might be in the offing.”
“I’m sorry, I had no idea.”
Nicole smiled wryly. “I was frantically busy with my college classes and work, so I mostly heard about it secondhand. It helped that social media was pretty new then. That aside, I don’t expect everyone to think I’m perfect, especially since I’m not. Everyone has different tastes, and personalities sometimes clash. That’s life. So, do you genuinely think I’m trying to manipulate you by giving Chelsea a job?”
“I’m still not clear about why you hired her.”
“One of my colleagues made the hiring decision. All I did was give Chelsea the application and take her back to his office. What was I supposed to do, tell her she couldn’t apply because she was your sister? That wouldn’t be fair.”
“Agreed, but you also offered the use of your guesthouse.”
“True, and I’d let her stay for free, but she insists on paying rent. I did it because we knew each other as kids and...” Nicole stopped. Perhaps she shouldn’t offer an opinion about Chelsea as an unhappy kid and the impression that she could use some support now.
“And?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Maybe it does.”
“Let’s just say it looks as if she’s had a rough time lately and I wanted to help out. But remember that I’m not obligated to tell you everything I think, even during the interviews for PostModern.”
“I don’t expect you to. By the way, can we start them today, instead of waiting until Monday?”
Nicole’s nerves instinctively tightened. Since the interviews hadn’t “officially” begun, anything she’d said to date should be off the record. But that was a technicality. He might not respect boundaries, so she may as well agree. And the sooner the interviews were over, the better.
She really would have to think about writing something for the blog the agency was starting. Jordan probably wouldn’t like it, but since he thought it was hypocritical for her to want privacy, she could argue the same about him. After all, he was a prominent newspaper columnist, making his living on being in the public eye.
Except...what she wrote shouldn’t be about turning the tables on Jordan. She’d have to think it over.
“How about it?” he prompted.
“Okay, we can begin the process right away, but at the moment I’m going to start my run.”
He fell in at her side as she set off down the trail. Though she would have preferred running alone, she didn’t object. They ran for an hour and he insisted on running the half mile from the park to her house. She noted that his breathing was strong, not heavy, despite their swift pace.
“What are you doing today?” Jordan asked. “Chelsea told me she’s starting at the agency this morning. Will you be showing her the ropes?”
“For a few hours, but I think it’s best if you aren’t there. It would be easier on her. This afternoon I’m attending a high school play and I’ll go again tonight to see their performance for the general public.”
“Why both?”
“To double-check my impressions.” Nicole took off the sweatband she’d put around her forehead. Taking a key from her pocket, she unlocked the door. “The audience also makes a difference, influencing the actors’ energy. The earlier performance is for their peers.”
“Then you’re going to recruit clients.”
“I want to be proactive. Stacks of inquiries come into the agency, but sometimes the most talented folks may not know it. Besides, most of the portfolios we’ve received are for models, and we’re also looking for performers.”
“Is it okay for me to attend with you?”
Nicole hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll clear it with the school. Just don’t tell anyone why I’m there. The principal knows, but I don’t want the kids getting hyper because an agent is present, and I’d rather not give them false hope.”
“That’s reasonable. What time?”
“Meet me here at twelve thirty. Also, please don’t mention the name of the school or any of the students in your article.”
“I understand.” He started walking toward the park.
As a kid Jordan had been athletic, and despite his military haircut and gangly physique, quite appealing to teenage girls. His features were still clean and defined, but no longer angular. And his body? She let out a breath, annoyed that she kept getting distracted by Jordan’s physical attributes. After all, she’d worked with equally handsome guys since they’d moved her from a child category into shoots for teen products.
As Nicole went upstairs and showered, she mused that she’d basically worked her entire life, yet Jordan seemed to think she didn’t have any right to a normal existence.
It was true that she’d entered adulthood with sizeable investments, which had only increased through the years. She was skilled at handling her funds, which meant she was quite comfortable. But money didn’t solve all problems. Being in the public eye all the time was tougher than people thought.
Her so-called fame had been the problem when she and Vince had started dating. He’d been her first serious love and was the only guy she’d gone out with who hadn’t expected her to be a polished supermodel all the time. But after a while he hadn’t been able to take the notoriety and had broken off the relationship. Her heartbreak had become fodder for the media, including months of speculation that she was pregnant...even long after it would have been obvious that she was not.
Nicole stepped out of the shower and went into her bedroom. It was nicely furnished, her money allowing her to decorate exactly the way she wanted. Yet she had no one to share it with, something she seriously doubted would change anytime soon.
She stared at a painting on the wall and wondered how many people would trade her modeling success for love. Her stellar career was partly luck...luck to be born with what the world called beauty, and luck in having parents who’d known exactly how to market her appearance. She’d also had talent, worked hard and tried to act professionally, but she knew luck was always a factor. That was true of Moonlight Ventures as well, but it still needed her hard work and judgment.
Was that something she could explain to Jordan for the articles, or would he just see it as trite and clichéd?
What if it actually was trite and clichéd?
* * *
BY THE TIME Jordan got back to the park, where he’d left his car, he was still thinking about his sister working for Moonlight Ventures. His instincts told him Nicole wasn’t out to hurt Chelsea, despite the past problems between their families, but he couldn’t help being concerned.
It was impressive how rational Nicole seemed to be about criticism and the probability that some people disliked her.
He winced, recalling what she’d said about his mother’s social media campaign against the Georges. How could Mom have behaved that way, when she was the one who’d thrown herself at Nicole’s father? Wounded pride at being rejected? Or maybe it was just the insanity of spending so many years in a destructive marriage and resenting one that wasn’t.
He’d been an unwilling, unknown witness to his mother’s folly and had never told anyone what he’d seen. What he hadn’t known was whether Nicole had learned about the incident from her parents.
Apparently not.
Jordan stuck his head under a spigot at the park picnic area and washed the sweat from his face. The water was cold and helped clear his mind.
After getting home the night before he’d called Terri and told her about the latest development. She’d decided to immediately leave for Seattle in Chelsea’s car with a load of her things—they both wanted to ensure their sister’s ties with Ron were well and truly cut. Terri might be tough and negative a lot of the time, but deep down she was fierce about the people she loved.
Back at his condo, he phoned Syd and explained the newest wrinkle in the situation. She felt it would give an added human interest twist, provided he was transparent about the circumstances.
“Our readers know life is messy. They’ll be interested to see how you handle it,” she told him.
“These articles aren’t about me,” he objected.
“Maybe they will be, partly at least. It’s an intriguing angle.”
Jordan hung up, ready to pound the wall. Was it possible that Syd was trying to maneuver him into writing a regular piece for her magazine? Before she’d become the editor, PostModern had asked him to do a monthly column, but he was happy with the way things were. While he might write a book someday, in the meantime he had the footloose and fancy-free life he’d always wanted.
* * *
AT TWELVE THIRTY SHARP, Jordan knocked on Nicole’s door. “Shall we drive together?” he asked.
“Sure. That way we’ll look like parents showing up to cheer on their kids. It should elevate the anonymity level.”
“You don’t want anyone recognizing you?”
“That’s why I plan to slip in as the play starts. It cuts down on the potential. Plus, I have these.”
She pulled out a pair of studious glasses and put them on. They changed the look of her face, especially since he’d never seen her wear anything other than sunglasses.
“Do you actually need your vision corrected?” he asked.
“No, but I’ve had these for years. They’re good for misdirection.”
Without makeup and in an oversized shirt, it was possible she wouldn’t be recognized, though no one would mistake her for anything except an extremely beautiful woman.
“Will I pass?” she asked.
“I suppose. You really think we’ll look like parents?”
“They can’t see how we really feel about marriage and each other.”
“I’ve been upfront about my disinterest in becoming a husband. So you feel the same way?”
She grinned. “I definitely don’t want to become anyone’s husband.”
He groaned. “Come on. Do you always misdirect?”
“Is this for the article?”
“I don’t know. Everything’s a possibility. Plenty of speculation has gone on about your decision to leave modeling. A husband and kids were large question marks.”
“Well, I’m not interested in getting married,” she answered in what seemed to be a deliberately light tone. “The advantage of having a dog instead of a husband is that they don’t think something is wrong if you aren’t wearing makeup.”
Jordan was sure there was something deeper being hinted at, but doubted she’d say more at the moment.
“Your editor mentioned wanting pictures for the articles,” she continued. “But I hope it isn’t necessary to include one of me dressed this way. Going incognita is the best way to give these kids a fair shot.”
“I understand.”
Nicole walked to her car, parked in the driveway, and Jordan knew it made sense for her to drive since she’d probably visited the school already. They arrived a few minutes before 1:00 p.m. and she led the way to the auditorium, arriving as the curtain on the stage was going up.
Throughout the performance, she watched attentively, occasionally checking the program, though without making any notes. Presumably she wasn’t seeing anyone she felt was promising. Jordan had to give her credit for appearing conscientious. His own attention kept wandering, unfortunately drawn by the scent Nicole wore, the line of her cheek, and the way her slight movements made him aware of the curves that had so often been displayed in a bikini or lingerie.
Perhaps that was the problem. Pictures were just pictures. But now she was here in the flesh and even though those curves were completely covered by a casual shirt, he’d seen enough photos of her in scanty clothes to know what lay beneath.
Shifting in his seat, he told himself the whole thing was basic human chemistry and could be overcome by rational thought.
Toward the end of the last scene, she stood and gestured for him to follow. They slipped out of the auditorium and walked briskly to the car. With the way they’d arrived and departed, he thought it was unlikely anyone would have noticed Nicole, even if she hadn’t been in disguise.
“At least you don’t have to attend tonight,” he commented as she drove from the parking lot.
