Page 32 of Moonshine and Magnolias
“Is that me?” Brandi asked.
“I am going to pin a copy of the daily schedule to your shirt. Today’s our shared day, but since you got here late, you get to finish. I’ll check in later. Please,” she added as an afterthought.
Brandi smiled at the asking. “Sure thing.”
Wendy left the room and headed for the grand staircase but stopped when she heard the familiar, commanding voice of Jordan Shoenover drifting to the second floor. Her friend had always been driven. In charge. One of the reasons she was the starting first baseman their entire college career, and on the All American team with Wendy.
Now she stood in the lobby, her dark hair piled on her head in a sophisticated twist. Her phone was attached to her ear with one hand, and the other held purple high-heeled shoes. “Oy, Mark, you can get along fine without me for a few days. I promise. If someone shows up, call me. Like you are now… We can videoconf... no, the subpoena won’t be for…” Jordan spied her waiting and waved her dangling shoes. “Just handle it, Mark!”
She hung up the phone without saying goodbye and ran on her bare feet over to Wendy, enveloping her in a hug complete with a subtle scent of citrus and spice. “I missed you!”
“Me, too. It’s so good to see you.” She didn’t ask why Jordan was standing in her lobby when her organizational talent development business was ten states north. After Sebastien’s arrival, it just made sense.
“I’m sorry about your grandma.” Jordan said in her ear. “Hell, even I miss her. I can’t even imagine.”
The sincere words cut tiny slices into Wendy’s heart, but she tried to laugh it off. “Not so nice that she burdened us with this house!”
Her friend raised an eyebrow at the comment.
“Jordan! I thought I heard your voice.” Brandi thundered down the stairs and barreled into the other woman hard enough to make her drop her shoes. “What areyou doing here?”
“Did you expect me to let Sebastien have all the fun?” She readjusted her glasses as she stepped back, and put one hand on each of her friends’ shoulders. “God, I missed you guys. And I’m in desperate need of a break. What a better place to get one than here?”
“You’re taking time off?” Brandi asked. “You?”
“People take time off, you know.” Jordan’s normal poise and cool efficiency commanded attention like the ninth inning of a no hitter, but her body looked drained, exhausted, like if she sat down she’d be asleep in five seconds.
“Is everything okay?” Wendy asked. “Your family is fine?”
“Couldn’t be better.”
Her tone was too breezy to be believable, but if she didn’t want to share her other reasons for visiting, Wendy wasn’t going to push. Too many people had tried to do that with her, and she didn’t need collective advice to figure out her problems. “Having both you and Sebastien is like a college reunion,” she said. “Let’s get you to a room. Is this your only bag?
“Darling, really. The rest of the set is in the rental.”
“The set?” One bag for a few days Wendy could understand, maybe even two, since it was her high-standards, high-maintenance friend. “You planning on moving in?”
“You never know what you’re going to need.”
“You do know that Claremont has department stores nearby and all sorts of other things that they have in Connecticut, right?”
“And here I thought you guys just got your first traffic light.”
“Oh come on. That was at least ten years ago.” Brandi hefted the bag and staggered toward the staircase. “Let’s get you settled in your room. Which is?”
“Crap. Did you make a reservation?” Wendy moved to the other side of the lobby desk and hauled out the day’s guest list. The check in column was empty.
“No, messing up your well-ordered schedule was the start of my plan for having fun.” Jordan grinned.
“Cute. We have rooms inside, but you’ll be near Sebastien. Or you can stay on the family floor. That way if you need to do any dallying in what you call your career, you’ll have some privacy if you want to leave your room.”
Jordan pointed at her. “Hey, that dallying career gives me the freedom to be here with you. So hush. And a room sounds great. The best room, with a pillow top mattress and a goose down comforter, and breakfast in bed every morning complete with freshly-squeezed orange juice and toast spread with hand-ground hazelnut. And believe me, I’ll know the difference. Delivered by a long-haired, bare-chested Italian soccer player.”
The image definitely held some appeal, even if her mind replaced the soccer player with the lanky form of Dr. Upshaw. “Then you better get Mark to handle it, because that ain’t happening here.”
Jordan covered Wendy’s hands with her own. “Put me in the stables, like Ms. Maybelle always did. Just like old times. Especially if the room is still has the canopied bed and that big chair and those green drapes so thick and huge I could make a dress out of them.”
Wow, how long had it been since that room had been updated? “It does.” Wendy took out her phone.
