Sparks. Dara Girard
parking lot. She didn’t care how late it was. She planned to put together the perfect presentation package.
Simone hit a key on her laptop. “I still think the PowerPoint presentation is overdoing it a bit.”
“Just check the slides. I don’t want them too crowded. Mr. Taylor needs to know how competent we are.”
“It’s three o’clock in the morning.” Simone stood. “When is your appointment?”
“Around seven.”
Simone spun Dawn around in her swivel chair. “You need to sleep. You don’t want to go to the meeting with bags under your eyes.”
“Don’t worry.” Dawn turned back to her desk. “Lately, I haven’t needed much sleep.”
“Dawn, you’re a great consultant. You built one business, you’ll build another. Now it’s time to go home.”
“But I need to assess the other schools….”
“No.”
Dawn stared at her computer monitor. “We need this job.”
“But he can’t know that. You’ll need to be cool and calm.”
How could she be cool and calm? Dawn thought on the way home. This was her big chance, perhaps her only chance. A client like The Medical Institute could put her back on track. Soon she’d be able to afford a one-bedroom with a balcony, she’d be able to pay membership to a gym, and get her old life back. Taylor had no idea what this meant to her. He was probably at home sleeping without a care in the world.
The rich rarely had worries. She wondered what he was like. Was he handsome? He really didn’t have to be; he had a great voice. She didn’t know much about Jordan or the Taylors, but she did know that Charles Taylor had started the company. She had heard of a son named Ray, but never of Jordan. Why the change of successor?
She brushed the thought aside. Their family drama wasn’t her concern. Her number one goal was to impress Jordan Taylor and get the job.
At home Dawn opened her closet. She didn’t want to wear anything too severe or too casual. She had to project the right image. The more Taylor left to her the easier it would be. And the more credit she could claim. Her first goal was to get him to say “Yes.”
A high shrill pierced through Jordan’s peaceful slumber. He groaned and turned onto his side and pulled the covers over his head, but the ringing didn’t stop.
He grabbed the phone. “Hello?”
“Hello, Jordan,” a feminine voice said.
He liked the voice. Perhaps he was still dreaming. “Who is this?” He rubbed his eyes.
“It’s Maxine.”
His stomach twisted into knots; he became wide awake. He glanced at the clock: It read 4:30 a.m. “Do you know what time it is?”
“I knew I couldn’t get you otherwise.”
“This is not a good time.”
“When is a good time?”
“A day after never,” he grumbled then yawned.
“That’s not fair,” she said without anger. She kept her voice low. “Jordan, I need to see you.”
He sat up and rested his head back. “Why?”
“I have to discuss something that I can’t say over the phone. This is important to me and to you.”
He turned on the light and squinted at the glare. “To me?”
“Yes.”
His tone grew concerned. “Is someone ill?”
“I’ll tell you when we meet.”
He shut his eyes. “Maxine, you know I don’t like games.”
“Please, Jordan.”
He didn’t want to see her again. He still didn’t trust himself. “I don’t know.”
“Please.”
He held his head. “I shouldn’t.”
“But you will.”
Damn, she knew him too well. “It will have to be quick. I have an appointment at seven tomorrow or rather today for dinner. You could come before then…say, around five.”
“Fitting me in around appointments? Seems the tables have turned. Maybe you’ll understand my position now.”
“It won’t change anything. We’ll still be divorced.”
She paused then said, “I hear you’re the new head of the Institute. I wonder why Charles chose you.”
“He wanted to make everybody laugh.”
“If you need any business advice—”
“Right,” he cut in ready to get back to sleep.
“I’ll see you around five.”
“Maxine,” he said sinking under the covers. “This had better be good.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Jordan stared at Maxine in disbelief. He surged to his feet. “No way!”
Maxine sat on the couch and tucked her feet under her. She kept her classically beautiful face composed and maintained a level tone as though dealing with a child throwing a tantrum. “Jordan, just listen.”
He gestured to his ears. “I was listening. I can’t believe what I just heard. Actually, I hope I didn’t.”
“You’re being emotional.”
“As opposed to psychotic?” He threw up his hands. “I don’t believe this.”
Maxine swung her feet to the ground. “It’s a little favor.”
“I’d rather extract my own kidney.”
“I’m not asking for a kidney. I’m asking for a baby.”
“That’s nice. I hope you get one.”
“I want to have it with you. Where are you going?” she demanded when Jordan abruptly left the room.
“To get something to eat.”
She followed him to the kitchen. “I thought you said you had a dinner date.”
“It’s not a date. It’s an appointment.”
“I just saw you eat a sandwich.”
“I’ll still be able to eat dinner.” He grabbed an apple.
Maxine stared at him amazed. “I always swore you had a second stomach. How could a man eat so much and still look like you?”
“Good genes.” He waved his apple. “Which I’m not planning to share.”
“You wanted to once,” she said quietly.
“Then we should have had this conversation at that time.”
“I wasn’t ready then.”
“And I’m not ready now. Go to a sperm bank.”
Maxine hugged herself, her brown eyes pleading. “I want to know the father of my baby.”
He stared at her for a moment then turned away. “No.”
“Just think about it.”
“No.” He leaned against the fridge and kept his gaze on the ground. “The only way I’m going to have a baby is if I’m married to its mother, and since I don’t plan to marry again, that won’t happen.” He raised his gaze, his tone unyielding. “Understand?”
Maxine shivered. “Don’t look at me like that.