Page 15 of Cupcake of the Month
“Happy Saturday.” Brandi pulled out her phone. “I knew thesmell would get you out of bed. Eat while I let Wendy know you’re awake. She’s finishing up with breakfast.”
“I’m going to services in an hour. Eatingtreifbeforehand would make me feel too guilty.” The lie to Josh about keeping kosher was kicking Jordan’s karma. “And why does Wendy need to know I’m awake?”
“More for me.” Brandi reached out her hand, and Jordan gave her the plate. Her friend picked up a strip of the greasy goodness and took a bite. “Eggs are in the microwave.”
“What, no bagel and lox? No schmear? Shameful.” Jordan pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose as she shuffled over to the food. “To what do I owe this ambush disguised as breakfast?”
“Such a pain, to have friends who want to make sure you’re okay.”
The double doors leading outside opened and Wendy let herself in. Jordan took the plate out of the microwave and made her way to the second recliner. “I’ve been telling you for the past few months that I’m fine.”
“This certified letter does not signify ‘fine.’” Wendy jabbed an envelope at Jordan and lifted an eyebrow. “From a district court in Connecticut. Want to finally explain to us what’s going on?”
Oh, great. It was probably the date of her hearing. “I’m surprised you guys haven’t used your search engine prowess and looked it up yourselves.”
She wasn’t surprised at their avoided eye contact. “Ha! I knew it.”
“We did a quick search and then left it alone. So we really don’t know all that much, Shoenover,” Wendy said. “Do we need to go to the orchard and hit a ball a few times to make you more comfortable?”
“Don’t you usually pitch the fallen peaches?”
“This late in the year? Growing season is over.”
“Spill,” Brandi said. “We’re not leaving until we get all the answers.”
Litigation had put her personal and professional reputation on the line. Anything scandalous having to do with the Shoenover family was big news in West Hartford, and Jordan had fled to her friends for refuge. It had been bliss not dealing with daily reminders.
Jordan had managed to stave off their curiosity while she helped them work out their roles after inheriting the Inn. Now that their lives were settled, they were ready to meddle in hers. “Later. I need to get dressed or I’m going to be late.”
“Saturday morning services don’t start for another hour and a half, and it’s only a thirty minute drive to the temple. I checked.” Wendy waved her phone, and Jordan cursed her friend’s ruthless dedication. While it had served her well while training for softball, now it was annoying. And predictable. Like Wendy would come into this conversation without an agenda.
“You guys are overreacting.” Jordan shoved some eggs into her mouth while Wendy poured the Arabica coffee, giving her time to plan her next words. “It’s stuff that has to do with my company. No big.”
“If that were all, you wouldn’t be avoiding it.” Wendy gave a mug to her cousin, then handed one to Jordan. “Eat. Drink.L’chaim.”
Jordan raised her cup in a toast, then swirled the liquid around, watching the whirlpool rise up the sides of the mug. That was her life, with her in the middle. Drowning. She took a sip, letting the strong flavor sit on her tongue before swallowing.
It was time to confess. She hadn’t wanted to burden her friends when they were going through their own issues, but their insistence now alleviated any need to keep her problems to herself. “So I take it you know I’m being sued. I came to Georgiabecause on a slow news day, reporters like to follow me around even though my lawyer told me not engage beyond saying ‘no comment.’ In fact, he’s the one who told me to leave town. Plus I haven’t had a vacation since I started my business, so here I am.” She smiled to bring levity to the situation, but her friends were having none of that.
“But you love your job,” Brandi said.
“Yeah, I do.” Jordan shuffled her food around on her plate. “Or did. I’m so paranoid now that I’m not taking on any new clients until this works itself out.
“Who’s suing you?” Wendy asked.
“Disgruntled employees of a previous client.” The eggs were a heavy weight in her belly and she put down her fork. “There’s really not much more than that.
“So what happens now?” Brandi asked.
Jordan glanced at the envelope on the countertop, her name and the Fountenoy Hall address in nice, typed letters. “I guess it depends on what’s in there.”
“Well, open it.” Wendy sat forward in her chair.
“When I come back.” Later would work better. Partly because it would drive efficient Wendy crazy and partly because if she opened it now, she’d want to act on whatever it contained, and she really had to get ready for services.
“You’re killing me here,” her friend said.
“I know.” Jordan toasted her with the coffee.
