Page 50 of Cupcake of the Month
“Jordan.” His voice held a note of urgency, and she leaned through the open door. He opened his mouth, then closed it and shook his head. “Feel better.”
***
“You must be Jordan Shoenover.” An older woman in a maroon dress spoke loudly over the many conversations that swirled about them in the community room of the public library. She held out her hand, her rings sparkling even in the room’s after-hours low light. “Congresswoman McGraw sure has been going on and on about you.”
Jordan clasped the firm grip. “She’s been too kind.”
“I remember when a day didn’t go by without me hearing your name on the sports newscast. You ladies helped bring well-deserved publicity to women’s sports. I noticed a couple of your teammates are here, too.”
Seemed Mrs. McGraw had been right about the name recognition, even after all this time. This lady was the third person to mention Jordan’s softball career. She brought her brace-covered hand in the air. “Go Dawgs.”
Even though she had iced her wrist and taken aspirin, the pain was still too great for her fine motor skills. Thankfully, Wendy and Brandi had helped her get ready that evening, complete with zipping her blue dress, applying cosmetics, and pinning her hair into a twist. Artful tendrils framed her face. She never could have done that one handed. Hell, even two handed, the hair style alone would have taken her an hour.
To add to the excitement of her evening, Larry Weinschenk had called before she left, telling her the offices of Bippen and Howe had lowered their settlement offer, but it was still laughably high. They were also sending a request for more documents. Her civil court date would be set soon. She’d have to go back home to West Hartford for it, putting on hold the plans she had for Mrs. McGraw. And Josh. The timing sucked.
“So what exactly will you be doing, Ms. Shoenover?” The gentleman by her side sported a large cowboy hat with a band that matched the crystal broach on his wife’s dress. Luke McGraw had pointed out Jeb Pickens as soon as the major donor walked in the door.
“I intend to talk to Mrs. McGraw’s constituents, in a town hall setting or tables at grocery stores, and then bring their ideas and concerns back to her. Mrs. McGraw is trying to reach everyone in her district, even those who aren’t as interested in politics.”
They paused as a photographer took their picture. It was good the press was there, as Mrs. McGraw wanted Jordan’s face instantly recognizable when she did her community outreach. Hence the party.
A server approached, offering fried gator and a remoulade sauce. This was the fifth server she’d seen, and none of them Josh. Jeb and his wife each took a couple of pieces, but Jordan declined. The server moved on, stopping at Luke and the people around him.
Jeb popped one of the gator bites in his mouth. “Can’t they tell her themselves? I tell her with money.” The earnestness on his face convinced Jordan he was being sincere.
“People want to be involved but can’t afford campaign donations. There are people who might think they don’t have anything important to say. Those who don’t understand what the congresswoman does. My events will be very informal, very casual, easy for people to attend and ask questions.” Maybe Josh was avoiding her on purpose.
“I hope you’ll be able to get the congresswoman to think about relaxing those business restrictions,” Jeb said. “You tell her--”
“Oh, Jeb, at least wait until after her official introduction to try to sway her opinion. My mom already has a full rosterof problems for her to tackle.” Luke McGraw inserted himself into the conversation with a charming smile and turned to the woman. “Marge, are you going to keep your husband in line tonight?”
“Like I could.” She turned to Jordan. “You’re going to do just fine.”
“Thank you. I look forward to hearing your views at one of the Government Talks.” Jordan said. “It was nice meeting you both.”
She took a step away, intending to get a drink of water. The constant chatting had made her throat dry.
“Kreplach?” The tenor of Josh’s voice behind her breathed warmth over her skin.
She fought a grin and turned around to feast her eyes on him. “Really? Kreplach?”
He waved his left hand with a flourish over the fried food as his eyes gave her a quick once-over. “With beef and potato.”
She wished she could tell what the hell he was thinking. “Looks delicious, but I’m going to have to pass.”
“We also have turkey-bacon wrapped dates, latkes with applesauce, and eggplant antipasto on pita bread.”
Kosher, kosher, and kosher. The food must have been Josh’s call. She clamped down the heady rush that filled her. “It all sounds so good. Find me after my speech.” Soon, really soon, she was going to have to come clean about not actually keeping kosher. But not today. Not when he sought her out to offer her the dairy-free goodies. “I don’t want eggplant in my teeth.”
His blue gaze locked on hers, and a spiral of need went through her. How did he manage to make her feel this way when his secrecy drove her bonkers? He took a half-step forward and dipped his head, but then his lips quirked up at the corners. He gave his head a small shake as he huffed out a soft breath before turning away.
Her body tingled at his retreat. She smoothed down her blue flare dress to give herself a moment, all the while watching Josh through the crowd. She poured herself some water from the dispensers.
“Ms. Shoenover, I’m Anne Tribby from the Macon Telegraph. Mind if I ask you a few question?”
“Mmmmm.” She lowered the glass, hoping they were about the now and not the lawsuit. “Please. Go ahead.”
She needn’t have worried. Anne asked about her preparations for her role with Mrs. McGraw’s office and when the first Government Talk would be. Jordan suspected questions would get more difficult later when she started going out in the district.
