Part 12 (2/2)
”Jorgensen,” June muttered, embarra.s.sed.
”If he's buying stock in his own d.a.m.n company like that, then what does that tell you?”
She glanced sheepishly at Jordan. ”That he's not fighting too hard to keep this takeover from happening.”
”You said it yourself, June. He's an old man. He's done. He's tired. And he's ready to let go of Anton.”
Jordan leaned back, satisfied that he'd made his point, and that he'd shown his sister she was nowhere near ready for what the oil industry really had to offer.
After the meeting was over and everyone else left the room, June stayed behind. ”You could've told me what Jorgensen was up to before we sat down at this little powwow and I made a fool of myself,” she told him.
Jordan dismissed her annoyance. ”You've got your numbers, June. You've put a lot of heart and soul behind them, and it's good stuff. I admire your due diligence and your faith in your expertise and, most of all, your ability to sell it.”
She took her time responding. ”But the devil's in the details.”
”That's the only place he is,” he said convincingly.
”I'm getting to you, though,” she said introspectively. ”Aren't I?”
He looked at her questioningly.
”I'm not stupid, Jordan. I know that the only reason you moved over and made room for me in this company is because I'm your little sister and you've always been taught to play nice with me, but you don't want me here,” she challenged. ”Except to sit back, and stare wide-eyed in fascination of you. You strong-arm me, but in such a way as not to hurt my feelings.”
Now it was his turn to be amused. June was astute, and she'd pretty much nailed it. ”The last thing I'd ever want to do is hurt your feelings.”
”It's my company too,” she finally stated. ”And I have every right to be here that you do.”
”I never said you didn't.”
”So, maybe I haven't been around long enough to really see just how low all you corporate CEOs can really get, but I am learning, and I am taking notes,” she said with conviction.
”You coming after my job, June?”
She thought about it before responding. ”When's the last time you spoke to Mother?”
He looked caught off guard by the question. But Jordan reluctantly answered. ”She doesn't speak to me.”
”It's not a good feeling. Is it?” June said thoughtfully.
It was no secret that June and Olivia had never been close. Olivia doted over Jordan, and barely glossed over her daughter as she was growing up, because June was the rebel, the difficult one. June didn't buy into Olivia's program. When Olivia wanted her to be a debutante, June scoffed and made sure that she behaved so badly with the debutante committee that she embarra.s.sed the h.e.l.l out of Olivia. After June graduated high school, Olivia insisted that she go to an all-girls' private university in Ma.s.sachusetts. June dropped the bomb on her over tea at the country club that Olivia belonged to that she was going to attend Berkeley in California.
”She talks to me a lot now,” June admitted. ”I mean, some days aren't so good. She either thinks I'm six, or she doesn't know me at all, but on those days when she does know me, it's not bad.”
Olivia hadn't spoken to him since he'd had her put under a doctor's care and tucked safely away in that senior citizen community. He'd done it for her own good, to keep her safe from the police and public scrutiny, but Olivia didn't see it that way.
”You animal!” she'd screamed at him, as he walked out and left her in that room. ”How dare you take me out of my own home! How dare you turn your back on me!”
Jordan waited until he thought she'd calmed down and went to visit her again. ”Mother,” he said as he sat across from her, trying to get her to listen to him, even just to look at him. ”I love you. And I wouldn't have done this if I didn't think it was the best thing for you.”
Olivia eventually cut her eyes at him. ”Liar,” she growled. ”Just like him. Liars, both of you. Cheats and liars. You want to get rid of me.”
”No, Mother,” he tried to tell her. ”But the police have been asking questions. I don't want them to take you from me. They think you shot Julian.”
Olivia's expression hardened, her lips pinched tight. ”I shot him. I shot the b.a.s.t.a.r.d for f.u.c.king that wh.o.r.e! And I'd do it again if I had the chance!”
Those were the last words she'd said to him.
His thoughts drifted back to the conversation he was having with June. Was she rubbing the fact that their mother was now her best friend in his face? It didn't matter. Jordan had done what he did to save Olivia, and if he had to make the choice again, he would make the same one.
”I'm happy for you, June,” he said. ”Happy that you and Mother are on better terms.”
”She's the reason I came to work at Gatewood Industries, Jordan,” June admitted. ”'Don't let that b.a.s.t.a.r.d take what's yours, June,'” she said, repeating what Olivia must've told her. ”Never in a million years did I ever expect to hear words like that coming out of her mouth about you, her golden boy.”
June's words were subtly laced in venom, and even though he'd never give her the benefit of knowing it, they hurt.
”People change. But it's never been my intent to take anything away from you. My job is and has always been to preserve Gatewood Industries, to keep it, to grow it. But never to take it from you, baby sister.”
June packed up her laptop and stood up to leave. ”Then you won't mind one bit, if I decide to hang around a little while longer. I like it here and I belong here. Even you can't argue with that.” June smiled at him, and left Jordan sitting alone in that conference room.
Nutty Nutmeg Phantasy Desi Green was a New York City girl at heart. L.A. was nice, but it didn't fill her with the same kind of energy as Manhattan. She spent most of her time now between those two places, and it had been months since she'd last set foot in Texas. Finally, she'd come out of the fog she'd been living in most of her life, and looking back at everything that had happened to her in the last almost thirty years, it seemed like bad scenes from a bad movie.
Desi was strong because she'd had to be strong. Before she was barely old enough to vote, her freedom had been stolen from her and she spent the next twenty-five years of her life growing up in prison for killing a man she loved dearly. Mr. J had been everything to her and her mother, and Desi watched Olivia Gatewood shoot him, and watched him fall to his knees on her mother's living room floor. The next thing she knew, she was holding the gun that killed him, Olivia Gatewood vanished in a puff of smoke, and the police burst through the front door, put handcuffs on Desi, and her life was never the same.
”It's late, baby,” Solomon said, coming out onto the balcony and wrapping his strong arms around Desi. ”And it's chilly.”
Desi laughed at the way he said the word ”chilly.” Solomon was a Texas boy, through and through. Desi melted in his arms as he wrapped the blanket he'd come out with around her too.
”Can't sleep?” he asked, nuzzling his face in the side of her neck.
She shook her head. ”Got too much on my mind to sleep,” she responded.
He felt so warm, and so good. Desi closed her eyes and let out a sigh. As anxious as she was about tomorrow, just his touch had a way of easing her fears and reminding her that she really was okay now and that the past was exactly where it belonged. Behind her.
She had a day filled with meetings tomorrow. Desi was finally getting a meeting with Macy's head of acquisitions to discuss the terms of carrying her product in their stores across the country. Until now, her Konvictions line had only been sold in small boutiques, and offered online from her company Web site, but distribution was getting to be too much for her to handle on her own. Konvictions was taking off, before she'd had a chance to really brace herself for it.
”Why the h.e.l.l are you nervous, baby? You got this.”
”Maybe I do, and maybe I don't,” she retorted. ”I won't take it for granted that I do until the ink's dry on the contract, Solomon. Weren't you the one who taught me that?”
He was an entertainment lawyer for some of the top artists in the music industry, and even represented some major sports figures. Solomon knew better than anyone not to get too comfortable too quickly.
”I did tell you that. Thanks for reminding me of how great a lawyer I am.”
”You're welcome. So, that's why I'm up.”
”Which is bad, because you're not going to be too sharp if you're falling asleep during the meeting.”
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