Page 4 of Cupcake of the Month
Josh didn’t move away, and she waited for him to say something else. Instead, he nodded and approached the people gathering in the hall. She watched him go, ignoring the pang in her heart. Why had he even gone to the bar when the event was in the large gym?
Someone slid into the seat next to her and she braced herself for a worn-out pick-up line. She tightened her grip on her rum and coke in anticipation.
“You’re All-American Jordan Shoenover,” said the feminine drawl next to her. “Ready with the wine glass or to help pick off a runner at first.”
Jordan opened her mouth to decline the offer of a drink, then closed it when she realized one wasn’t extended, and the person who occupied the seat was the congresswoman. And Jordan was fairly certain reciting softball lingo wasn’t the new pickup line. “How did you…”
“I knew I’d seen you somewhere before. It took me a minute to remember since you were covered in dirt and wearing a University of Georgia ballcap the last time I saw you, not holding a life-saving libation and wearing sparkling barrettes.” Mrs. McGraw grinned at Jordan’s perplexed expression. “My son was on the baseball team. We watched you girls when the games were scheduled close together and we had the time.”
Jordan circled her hand in the air while she mentally recalled the baseball roster. “Sic ’em!”
“Woof! Woof! Woof!” Mrs. McGraw barked back.
They exchanged grins and Jordan nodded, the congresswoman’s son falling into place. “How is Luke doing?”
“He’s one of my aides now. Lord help him for following my footsteps into public service. He and his wife are about to give me my first grandbaby.” She picked up the tumbler of whiskey the bartender set in front of her without her ordering.
“Mazel tov!” Jordan raised her own glass.
The congresswoman clinked them together. “I thought you had moved back up north after college.”
“I did, but I missed it here. I’m actually staying with two of my teammates at their Inn. Wendy Marsh and Brandilynn Clayton.” She didn’t mention Belle’s distillery. It honored its Prohibition roots by keeping its existence a poorly-held secret.
Mrs. McGraw nodded. “You girls were unstoppable. Always fun to watch.”
Flattery of her softball skills boosted Jordan’s mood. “I’m surprised you remembered. It’s been a while.”
“You lead the team to four national titles. How could I forgetthat? Besides, I have to cling to the fun I had before I was elected as a state rep. I’m too busy for anything else these days.” She slung back her drink and set her glass down with a solid thunk. “So what are you doing with yourself now? I always knew you’d go far. You had that hungry, competitive air about you.”
Jordan kept her face from revealing her current situation. If going far meant getting sued by her client’s employees, then Mrs. McGraw was right. “I’m a business owner.”
“Lord, honey, you say that with about as much enthusiasm as eating burnt gravy on a biscuit.”
“It’s been a difficult summer.” Jordan’s throat tightened at the simplistic understatement.
“What type of work do you do?”
“I dive into the interworking of companies and help them improve both their business and morale. To see if they can go from good to great with the people they have and how to fill in missing talent.” It was something she was good at and loved to do. To see companies grow and their employees have more job satisfaction. And then the owner of the last company turned her expertise into a weapon, completely ignoring her research and professional advice and sucking the joy out of her work.
“That sounds like a skill I could use with my constituents.”
The sound of an old-fashioned telephone escaped her clutch, and Jordan closed her eyes as a wave of resignation hit.
“I know that look.” Mrs. McGraw waved off the bartender about to pour her another drink. “Let me know if you and your friends are ever in the mood for a pickup game. I’d love to see you and Luke battle it out. Don’t tell him I said this, but I bet you’d kick his ass.”
Jordan grinned. She wouldn’t mind trying. “Yes, ma’am. Excuse me.”
She put money on the table and escaped the building to the deserted back patio. The heat still lingered in the late summerair even after the sun went down, so most everyone was taking advantage of the cooler temperature inside. She opened her clutch to retrieve her phone. If her lawyer had gone from texting to calling, she should probably answer.
“Did you see the files I sent you?” Larry Weinschenk’s commanding lawyer voice boomed out over the line.
“Not yet. I’m at a charity event.”
He continued on as if she hadn’t spoken, spouting legal terms and five syllable Latin words until he finally revealed the nitty gritty. “Mediation fell apart, and they’re moving forward with the suit. It will be hard for them to prove a breach of contract or that you purposefully revealed confidential information, but I wouldn’t relax yet. There are some nasty litigators out there who would be happy to take down someone with your roots and resume.”
That was what she’d been afraid of. Her parents were prominent in West Hartford society, her twin brothers had designed and sold popular apps and were millionaires before they were thirty. She owned a successful business, but everything she had from her trust fund had gone into establishing Shoenover Strategic Management as a top-notch consulting agency. While she’d had an advantage at the start, she had nothing more to give, and closing her doors for the summer to focus on her case hadn’t helped.
Though the familial connections had been beneficial. As soon as she told her family she was being sued, her brothers took to the Internet to research who was representing the plaintiffs and her parents contacted their lawyer friends to find her representation. Though they had offered to help her with the fees, she was determined to do it herself.
