NICOLE WOKE IN the early morning, unable to remember what she’d dreamed, or if she had dreamed at all.
For the moment she was relatively current on her paperwork, so she sat on her deck, enjoying a cup of tea and reading a book, before heading to the office.
Once there, she arranged several go-sees and bookings and reviewed the folder of pictures collected at the career fair. The girls had been eager and hopeful; it really was the worst part of her job to tell dreamers that she couldn’t be the one to help them. Yet it would be cruel to take someone on as a client, making them believe they could succeed, when she didn’t think it was going to happen. Not that she ever told them the last part. She wasn’t going to be the one to kill a dream, and there was always the chance she was wrong. More than one star had succeeded where the experts had said it wasn’t possible.
Jordan arrived shortly before she planned to leave and check on modeling jobs in progress.
“Really?” he asked. “Do you get time for anything else?”
“I’m probably doing more of them than most agents because I’m new,” she explained. “I was hoping you’d get here before I left to see if you would like to tag along. Today I’m mostly doing spot checks.”
“That sounds interesting.”
Nicole smothered a smile since he obviously found the entire process a bore. But maybe he was also getting the picture that modeling wasn’t a cakewalk. Of course, some people saw only what they wanted.
At the reception area, she handed a stack of folders to Chelsea to record the bookings, then headed to her car, wondering if Jordan would want to take his vehicle. Instead he settled without protest into her passenger seat. She’d planned the visits carefully by location to minimize driving time. It went smoothly, with Jordan observing, taking notes and occasionally speaking with the models.
The last stop was at a carpet store where the model—dressed in a Cleopatra-type costume—was being unrolled over and over from a length of carpet for a local television ad. The director looked as if he planned to keep doing it the rest of the day.
“How about lunch?” Jordan asked as the young woman’s hair and makeup were refreshed.
“Oh, sure. Let’s just pick up a sandwich or something.”
“Fine with me.”
She wasn’t as oblivious to him as she was trying to appear. While sitting and making notes, Jordan in the seat next to her, she’d tried not to take in his clean male scent, or notice the dark waves of his hair and remember how it had felt under her fingers.
Had that been in a dream? She was pretty sure she hadn’t actually touched his hair since they were teens.
* * *
JORDAN WAS GLAD Nicole had finished her last site check. It was clear she was intentionally showing him the less-than-glamorous side of the business. Wearing coats on hot sets, trying to look presentable and sexy while running on a treadmill...getting rolled out of a carpet over and over again. None of those were jobs he’d relish.
He didn’t blame Nicole. He’d taken the assignment with a number of biases, and he had been unable to conceal them from her. So she’d flung the truth in his face. Modeling could be difficult—why had he assumed anything different?
And in Nicole he was observing an intelligent, deliberate woman at work. That was another blow to his underlying assumption that she’d probably skated by on her looks. What had it been like to spend years being told to smile for the camera as if her beauty was the only thing she had to offer?
He tried to imagine how it would feel if people constantly praised his height or his hair, his eyes, or something else over which he felt little sense of achievement, and never mentioned his actual accomplishments or abilities. True, a model had to know how to enhance his or her appearance, keep in shape and follow instructions. And unless they left everything to their agent, they had to have business sense and be savvy about the public. They also had to know how to protect themselves against anyone who might be less than scrupulous. It must be hard to have those abilities and so many others ignored.
Or was he getting taken in again?
Abruptly Jordan recalled what Nicole had claimed the night before—that he believed in nothing and no one. That he only wanted an illusion. It had almost seemed as if she felt sorry for him. No need, he was fine. The assurance had a hollow sound, but he was used to that since he regarded himself with the same skepticism as he viewed everything else.
He looked at his watch. It was after one.
“Do you have time to talk?” he asked. “Or would you rather wait for another day?”
“Now is fine, or rather when we get back to the office.”
“It’s a nice afternoon, and I’d hate spending it indoors. I have a boat moored at a dock that isn’t too far away. How about sitting on the deck and enjoying the lake and sunshine while we talk? We’re actually closer to my boat than your office. We could even take her for a sail afterward, or do you have plans for tonight?”
“No, nothing. But maybe we shouldn’t...” Her voice trailed off as she looked toward Lake Washington. “Okay. People keep telling me this is an unusual spring for the Northwest and to enjoy the warm weather while it lasts.”
“The weather is changeable up here,” Jordan acknowledged. “One year we had a string of hot days in May, then it turned cold and didn’t get above fifty degrees until late June.”
He parked at the dock, and as they were climbing aboard The Spirit, Nicole appeared surprised. “I thought it would be smaller.”
“Originally I got her for ocean sailing, and even lived aboard for a few months. When I have time, I still take her out through the various canals and locks to face the waves.”
Nicole settled into one of the low-slung deck chairs with her usual grace. Perhaps he was being fanciful, but it seemed as if she couldn’t get into an awkward position.
“Excuse me?” she said.
“Uh, what?”
“You said something about awkward positions.”
“It’s nothing,” he answered, amazed that he’d spoken the words aloud. Talking to himself wasn’t unusual, but he generally didn’t do it in anyone else’s company.
“Okay.”
The breeze off the lake cooled the air and he wondered why he hadn’t thought of coming here the last few nights. He might have gotten a decent night’s rest.
Now that they were settled, he felt disinclined to leap into official interview mode. Yet that was the reason for spending time with Nicole in the first place.
“You’re obviously educating me on the challenges of modeling,” he said. “What if I hadn’t shown up to see Cleopatra being rolled out of her carpet over and over again?”
Nicole shrugged. “There are ample opportunities to demonstrate how demanding the job can be.”
“And demeaning?” he found himself asking.
“Sometimes. Of course, models who feel the work is beneath them usually don’t last since they can be hard to work with.”
“So in modeling it’s important to work and play well with others.”
She grinned. “Sure, the same as everywhere. Lessons learned in kindergarten. A lot of the things they taught apply throughout our lives.”
“Be a team player. Clean up after yourself. Say please and thank you.”
“No name-calling,” she added. “Hold someone’s hand when you cross the street. Don’t take things that don’t belong to you. Share and play fair. Strange how some people forget those lessons.”
“Yeah.” He yawned.
“You don’t look seriously engaged with this interview,” Nicole said with a smile.
“Suggesting the boat probably wasn’t the best idea. All I can think of is taking The Spirit out for a sail.”
Her nose wrinkled. “That sounds wonderful, but I’m not dressed for it. Especially in my heels.” She lifted one of her legs, displaying a pair of stylish pumps.
Jordan leaned forward. “If you’re serious, Terri keeps fresh clothing on the boat. She hates my condo and doesn’t like hotels, so she usually stays here. I’m sure her stash includes casual outfits and boat shoes. If the shoes don’t fit, you could go barefoot.”
“Won’t she mind if I borrow something? We just repeated the lesson about not taking things that don’t belong to you.”
“It isn’t one of her hang-ups.”
Nicole got up from the deck chair. “In that case, I’m ready to play hooky for a while. Just not for too long, I don’t want to be late getting home to Toby. He has the dog door so he can go outside, but I think he gets lonely.”
“Gotcha. Check in the cabin. I’m sure you can find something more comfortable.”
Jordan was pleased. Sailing might help them loosen up so he could get the kind of interview he needed. Of course, as he watched Nicole carefully descend the steps into the cabin, he also wondered if it was smart on other levels, but he was tired of second-guessing everything. In fact, he was tired of trying to be smart and careful in the first place.
* * *
NICOLE ADMIRED THE well-designed cabin, which had a cooking and eating area, along with a sleeping compartment and a full lavatory. It wouldn’t be a bad place to spend a few nights, though she wouldn’t be comfortable staying there alone. Terri was clearly bolder than she was on several levels.
After a short hunt, she located some women’s clothing. If they’d belonged to a girlfriend of Jordan’s, she wouldn’t have touched them, but she didn’t mind wearing his sister’s clothes. A pair shorts and a T-shirt didn’t take long to don, along with a pair of boat shoes. They were a little large, but not too bad.
The Spirit was already moving out of its mooring as Nicole made her way to the deck. Not being an experienced sailor, she sat and watched as Jordan managed the boat; it was obviously a task he loved. His face grew relaxed and he looked happy as they sailed away from the shore.
They talked little as the boat skimmed across the water, and it was a surprisingly easy silence. Nicole reminded herself not to make too much of it. This was an unusual situation, as if they’d agreed to take a break from reality. Desire still simmered beneath the surface, but it was possible to pretend it wasn’t there...which probably wasn’t realistic. Wisdom suggested this time with Jordan was a bad idea, but wisdom hadn’t gazed at the lake recently and wished she could go sailing.
“Have you ever steered a sailboat?” Jordan asked after a while.
“Not with a tiller.”
He grinned. “Come on, give it a shot.”
Nicole jumped up from her seat. “I’m game.”
Taking the tiller in her hands, she felt the energy of the wind and the water. Jordan placed his hand over hers and it seemed as if they swayed together with the boat as she experimented with how their movements changed their direction. It was almost like dancing.
“I can’t believe how much better this is,” she finally said. “A wheel is easier but not as...connected, if you get what I mean.”
“I know what you’re talking about. With a tiller, you can feel the movement of the rudder in the water. I’d never have a sailboat without one, even if it does take more space.”
Nicole nodded. Sailing this way could be addictive. Or was part of the attraction doing it with Jordan? On the water, separated from reality, they’d seemed in almost perfect sync, which should have scared her, but for the moment it was simply wonderful.
* * *
IT WAS PAST five when Jordan tied up the boat.
Nicole stood. “I’d better collect my things.”
“Not yet.” Jordan pointed at someone walking toward them carrying a bag. “You said you didn’t have anything planned for tonight, so I phoned and ordered dinner for us.”
She’d seen him on his cell, but hadn’t listened to the conversation. If he had asked if she wanted to eat together, she would have said no, which was probably why he’d ordered and told her after the fact.
“Nice timing for them to get here as we arrived.”
“I know the place and how long it takes them to deliver to the marina.” Jordan gave money to the delivery man and took the bag. “Keep the change.”
“Thanks. Enjoy your meal.”
Jordan pulled a container from the bag and handed it to her along with a plastic fork and a napkin.
“Hope you like surprises, though I should have asked whether you had any allergies.”
“None, and I enjoy most foods.” It was the kind of thing she might have thought was romantic if this had been a date.
She opened the lid and found eggplant parmesan with grilled vegetables on the side. It smelled wonderful, reminding her that the lunch she’d barely touched had been hours earlier. The only problem was that the silence was no longer comfortable.
Jordan went down to the cabin and returned with bottles of seltzer. “This is all I have and it isn’t chilled,” he said. “I should have ordered something to go with the food.”
“It’s fine,” she said, accepting the bottle. Their fingers brushed and energy traveled up her arm, reminding her of all the reasons she hadn’t invited him home for dinner the night before.
No restaurant had a view better than the one from the boat. The sun was dropping below the horizon, and across the water, city lights began barely glimmering.
“It’s beautiful,” Nicole said, pausing between bites to soak in the scene.
“Absolutely. Because I travel often, I have arrangements for a guy to check on The Spirit occasionally. But there is a downside to not being required to visit the boat regularly. Sometimes I let weeks or months pass without going for a sail.”
“That’s too bad.”
The conversation was prosaic, but he kept looking at her instead of the vista.
“The temperature has dropped,” he said, “you must be getting chilly in those shorts.”
“I’m all right.” She swallowed. There was nothing odd in his comment, except that she suddenly remembered how her bare legs had brushed against his during their time at the tiller.
Finishing her meal, she placed the plastic fork inside and closed the container.
“I think I’ll go change into my own clothing, though.”
There was a long moment as his gaze locked with hers. He stood and offered her a hand, and as she came to her feet, she swayed closer, knowing what she was inviting.
Nicole held her breath as he bent low to lay a trail of kisses alone her jaw line until reaching her lips.
“Mmmm,” he murmured. “Better than dessert.”
But the words had the opposite effect than he’d probably intended, reminding her of another man who’d said the same thing. It wasn’t a positive memory.
She broke the contact and moved aside.
He frowned. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Not your fault. It’s just that someone else used to say the same thing to me. It was my last attempt to form a relationship, the one that finally convinced me wedding bells and happily-ever-after weren’t in the cards. I’ve found I can count on friendship and a useful career, not love and romance.”
“Now you’re the one who sounds as if you’ve given up on believing in things.”
“Not really. Marriage and romance are terrific for some people. You should have seen Em’s wedding. She and Trent are so much in love, and they’ve made such a difference to each other’s lives. I’ve seen plenty of couples in Schuyler and other places who seemed equally happy, so I’m all for the institution in general, even if I’ve decided it isn’t something I want personally.”
“Maybe you’ll find someone equally well suited.”
She lifted an eyebrow at him. “Has anyone tried that sort of argument on you? ‘Hey, Jordan, you’ll joyfully give up that happy carefree bachelor life once you find your soul mate.’ ‘Don’t be ridiculous, once you find the right person, all your doubts will vanish.’ Or how about, ‘You’ve got to be kidding, marriage and family are the most important things in life and you’ll realize that when the right woman comes along.’”
A wry smile twisted his lips. “You’re right. I’ve heard those arguments and more to push me toward an altar. But your decision still seems based in a negative experience.”
“The people we are today come from everything we’ve experienced. All that has to be taken into account in our decisions, doesn’t it?”
“Sure. Isn’t that a justification for asking about your past for the article?”
“Perhaps if it didn’t feel as though you’re steering everything in that direction. Are your parents’ problems the only reason you’re a bachelor?”
“No, I’m just happy that way.”
“Then it’s partly based on the fact you’ve had happy experiences as a bachelor, right?” she asked. “And also because your logic says it works for you.”
Jordan groaned. “You really enjoy making rational arguments, don’t you?”
“I like to understand a situation. It’s part of how I solve problems, or at least it affects how I feel about them. I don’t know if that’s true for everyone, but it helps me. All I can say is that I understand my past and I’ve learned from it, which I believe is the mature approach. But it isn’t controlling me.”
“Except it made you react against something I said.”
Nicole pursed her lips. “I could say something brutal, such as the jerk who used that line taught me that cheesy lines are a dime a dozen. But I didn’t assume you’re a jerk because of him. It simply broke the mood.”
The wind blew tendrils of hair against her cheek and he raised his hand to brush them away. Despite her words, her breathing quickened. How was she supposed to think her way through something that was primarily instinct?
* * *
JORDAN HADN’T PLANNED to kiss Nicole when he’d suggested the sail or ordered dinner. Nor had he planned on getting into a debate about how life decisions should be made. The golden light of early evening had felt like a sensual painting, perhaps leading to the kind of moment he’d cherish as an old man and mention in his memoirs. Well, something of the sort. And how cheesy would that sound to her?
He was also struck with another realization. Nicole had talked about him just observing life, keeping his distance. The last thing he wanted to turn into was one of those pseudo-intellectuals he’d sometimes met, the ones who discussed everything with a pretentious air of detachment.
Lord, he remembered one columnist he’d known when he was a reporter. Ken hadn’t been syndicated in many newspapers, but he’d acted as if he was sending his wisdom down from Mount Olympus. Jordan had just gotten back from the Middle East with Syd; he’d had bruises all over, cracked ribs and a nasty cut on his leg, and Ken had pontificated on the sociological history of the conflict...without even getting it right.
That was definitely not the sort of person he wanted to become.
“You know something?” Jordan asked. “I have this sudden urge to go skinny-dipping, but I’m too grown-up and have too much of a false sense of dignity to do it. Besides, we’d probably get arrested.”
“We could inaugurate my hot tub.” She seemed surprised by her own suggestion, but straightened her shoulders with an air of not backing down.
“It’s in a private part of your backyard,” he said, trying to make sure he hadn’t misunderstood her.
A long pause. “True,” she finally agreed.
“Will it bother you if Chelsea sees me arriving?” he asked.
She lifted her chin. “We’re both taking risks, here, Jordan. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
The word hung between them.
“No regrets or recriminations?” she challenged.
“I’ll do my best.”
He stepped back and she hurried down into the cabin, coming out a few minutes later with her arms full.
“I’ll leave you to do whatever is needed on the boat.”
Jordan watched in the golden light as she walked swiftly along the dock. With any other woman, he might fear that she’d change her mind, jump in her car and speed away, leaving him to find a taxi to get home. But that wasn’t Nicole’s style. If she changed her mind, she’d tell him to his face.
Shaking the thoughts aside, he made sure The Spirit was secure and followed Nicole to her sedan.
“I’ll drop you at the agency to get your car,” she said. “I’m not sure how good that lot is for overnight parking.”
“You want me to park up the street and sneak through the side gate?”
“Or we can be open about the fact you’re spending social time with me that has nothing to do with any magazine articles. Objectivity has been shot to smithereens already. I’d just as soon the public didn’t know you’d spent time in my...er...hot tub, but that’s one of the risks here, isn’t it?”
“I don’t like the idea of hiding or sneaking. I’ll park in front of the house and not pretend there’s a reason to do anything else.”
“That’s fine with me.”
He was fairly sure his head was going to explode, that is if another part of his anatomy didn’t beat him to it.