Page 26 of Cupcake of the Month
Once the rattling sound of his muffler faded away, Jordan slunk out of the Hall and to her room in the stables, attempting to contain the overwhelming urge to throw her shoes. Instead, she sat on her bed and took several deep breaths, replacing Josh in her mind.
The drive to Macon to meet with Mrs. McGraw would take about an hour. Factoring in the stop at Feed the Hungry to drop off leftover food and buffer time for traffic, she had thirty minutes until she had to leave.
She checked the Shoenover Strategic Management online portal to see if her assistant had sent the last invoice to her previous client. Mark had updated the information showing the payment request had gone out, but it was not yet paid. Next came her email. Mark had forwarded requests from potential clients to meet with her, along with a note saying he had already relayed the not-taking-on-new-clients-at-the-moment response, but the business owners still insisted on talking with her.
She closed her computer without reading the emails.
With that taken care of, she stood in front of her closet and flipped through her clothes. Meeting with a congresswoman called for more style than her khakis and pink blouse. She spent time putting together an outfit, then redid her hair into a classic bun and put her glasses back on to study the results.
She’d do. Her grey pants were crisp and the blue patterned top said professional woman who could navigate the rules.
Anthon was still busy in the kitchen when she walked in,mixing bowls of crème and chocolate. The non-descript orange bottle from Belle’s Medicinal Brewery sat on the counter, its strong peach whiskey scent permeating the room. He scowled when she walked in. “This is not a playroom.”
Oy, he’d been at the Hall for a couple of months and still hadn’t embraced Grandma Maybelle and Ms. Eulalee’s philosophy that the kitchen was the center of the home. But not her problem – at least, not until Brandi and Wendy asked for her talent organization skill to set him straight.
“Not a playroom. Thank you, Chef.” She grabbed the van keys and the bags of leftovers on her way out.
After she dropped off the food, she circled back to the highway and drove north. Why was Mrs. McGraw even getting involved in Jordan’s business? She had no right to put herself in the middle of this debacle. There was no reason for her to even care.
Jordan tapped her fingers against the steering wheel to calm her rampaging nerves. The meeting probably had nothing to do with the lawsuit. Why would it?
Mrs. McGraw’s office was in a brick building that also housed an insurance office and a tech company, along with a few other businesses. The parking lot was nearly full, but Jordan scoped out a spot on the far side and in the shade – a bonus. After she climbed the wide staircase and entered the building, the security officer checked her ID and issued her a visitor sticker. “Go right up,” she said. “Mrs. McGraw is expecting you.”
“Thank you.” Jordan’s heart beat too loudly in her chest. The congresswoman’s offices were on the third floor and Jordan took the stairs to prolong the inevitable showdown. The possible showdown. She pushed her glasses into place, ignoring the feeling of impending doom.
She let out a slow breath before pushing open the door of Mrs. McGraw’s office. She was about to give her name to thereceptionist when a man emerged from the hallway. “Jordan. It’s good to see you again.”
It took Jordan a moment to recognize the man in the tailored black suit. She had been accustomed to seeing him in the grey of his baseball uniform or in a plain white t-shirt at the gym. “Luke McGraw, all dressed up.”
He pretended to tighten the knot in his red tie.
She grinned, but her stomach wouldn’t let her relax. “So why am I here?”
He laughed. “Still getting right to the point. She’ll be another minute. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Juice?”
Anything she drank would curdle in her churning stomach. “Nothing, thanks.”
He brought her to the chairs in the reception area and they did the catching up thing. Luke pulled out photos of his wife and described his excitement about becoming a dad. Jordan would have shown him a picture of her dog, only she didn’t have one. A picture or a dog.
Muted footsteps sounded down the carpeted hall, and Jordan followed Luke’s lead when he stood up. Erica McGraw approached and extended her hand. “I’m so glad you could make it, Jordan. Come on in to my office.”
“It was great seeing you.” Luke waved and disappeared down the hall.
Mrs. McGraw’s office was decorated with the standard pictures of the president of the United States, the governor of Georgia, and of her own family. A large American flag stood proudly in the corner next to the state flag. Smaller ones graced the corner of her ornate wooden desk. A stack of manila folders and loose papers sat next to a large calendar.
“Have a seat.” The congresswoman waved her hand at a chair in front of her desk and slid into the one behind it.
Jordan perched on the edge of her seat, as tense as if abaserunner planned to steal second under her watch.
“I did a bit of research on you.” Mrs. McGraw tapped a pencil against her hand. “Seems like you got yourself some legal issues.”
So she was cutting right to the heart of the matter. Good. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Is that why you’re in Georgia? I saw videos of the press hounding you back in Connecticut.”
More like until Larry Weinschenk told her it was okay to come back home and she could defend herself head on. “Yes.”
“If it’s any consolation, I think the employees would be better off suing the owner of the company. If he didn’t want to make his company a better place to work, he shouldn’t have hired you. Firing half the work force had to have been bad for morale.”
