Chapter 11
“Hey, Jordan, do you know why these don’t quite align?” Lionel asked.
Jordan swallowed his first reply. And his second.
It was one thing for him to know why X did not match Y, but for his immediate superior not to understand rankled.
Why people didn’t see how things could be done always bothered him, especially when they were paid more to know.
Maybe Lionel only thought he was being paid to ensure it happened, rather than making it happen himself.
Jordan was a systems guy, all about the logistics of making things flow properly.
At Donwell. With Dream Match. And in life.
There was a proper order to things. Just like people.
And it was clear that certain people, even if they were complete opposites, aligned well with each other, while others were best advised not to go down that path.
Still, grace in this moment whispered that he help Lionel, so he did. Lionel’s frown cleared and he sighed. “Thanks. It’s hard to remember some of these things. I keep forgetting that Emma is not here to ask about this stuff anymore.”
“She’s not been here for weeks,” Jordan pointed out.
“Is she doing okay?” Lionel asked wistfully. “I miss her.”
“She’s good.” There was no point telling Lionel that EJ had been sick last week. He’d be likely to want to go visit her, which would be the last thing EJ would want.
“Okay. Well, better get back to work.”
Jordan nodded and ducked behind his computer again, and was soon lost in the joy that was spreadsheets and coding.
But Lionel’s words kept tugging at him. Things weren’t the same since EJ had gone. He missed her. And even though they still regularly caught up, it wasn’t the same as seeing her every day. He hoped she was feeling better this week.
It was getting close to one thirty by the time he finally took his lunch break, only to see Dallas hunched over his desk, staring at something on his phone. Dallas, who didn’t mind chipping others when they weren’t working as he thought they should.
So he drew closer. “Hey.”
Dallas jumped.
Hmm. “What are you looking at?”
For all that the Bennett girls loved their Jane Austen, Jordan had always been more of a fan of Lord of the Rings. And for a moment, Dallas pulled a face much like Gollum, in a kind of sly expression that suggested he didn’t want people knowing what he knew. Or perhaps he actually did.
“Not going to tell me?” he asked when Dallas still didn’t answer. “Okay.”
He shrugged and moved on; then Dallas cleared his throat. “Have you seen this?”
Jordan swallowed a smile and paused. “Seen what?”
“Emma.” Dallas shoved his phone at Jordan. “Look who she’s talking to.”
He peered at the image, which was slightly blurry. But there was no mistaking EJ, dressed in her workout gear. He’d seen her wear that top a couple of Saturdays ago. And there was no mistaking the man she was talking to, either. His heart clenched. Eric Churchill.
Dallas chuckled. “Looks like someone’s getting busy.”
What was she doing with Eric Churchill? Hadn’t he warned her that the guy was up to no good? “Where did you come across this?”
“It’s over all social media and gossip news sites. Everyone wants to know about the mystery lady in Eric Churchill’s life.”
“She’s not in his life,” Jordan said firmly. “They’re not even really friends.”
“How do you know?”
“Because EJ and I are friends, and she talks to me about everything.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Dallas’ question prodded, poking at Jordan’s insecurity.
Once upon a time, he’d have been able to say that with perfect assurance.
These days, not so much. And while the past few conversations that Jordan had had with EJ suggested she was finally back on the right path again, he suspected it wouldn’t take much before the distractions of this world started to appeal again.
“Okay. Well, I don’t know why you think that’s something worthy of our time when we’re working here.”
“She’s your friend, isn’t she?”
Jordan shot him a look. “I think you and I should be glad that we don’t have people racing around trying to take photos of us, then forcing us to justify to strangers every single person we ever talk to. It’d be hard to live in a fishbowl like that, don’t you reckon?”
Dallas eyed him for a moment, the glee in his face fading.
Jordan really didn’t need to give this any more oxygen. It was best to move on and refocus attention on what actually was meant to be happening. “Okay, so I’m getting back to work. Hey, did you have that report ready for Wade Warren?”
Dallas put away his phone, and Jordan successfully managed to get him to think about what he was paid to do.
But he was less successful in managing to do the same. Why was EJ talking with Eric? What was Eric’s interest in her? Was he interested in the app—or in EJ?
Clearly he was going to have to call her tonight after work.
That night when he got back home, James said the same.
“Hey, Rachael saw the weirdest thing. Your friend, EJ? Apparently there are all these rumours that she’s going out with Eric Churchill. Crazy, huh?”
“Super crazy.” Okay. That decided him.
He got on the phone. Sent her a message. Was surprised and relieved when she replied straightaway. Then he called her.
“I didn’t think I’d get the chance to actually talk to you.”
“Wonders never cease.”
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Much better, thanks.”
“I figured you must be feeling better if you’re well enough to go to the gym.”
“The gym? How did you know?”
He paused. Shot up a prayer for wisdom so what he said would come across right. “Look, let’s just say that there are photos floating around of you at the gym.”
“What?” she shrieked. “Where? Why?”
“Yeah, they’re not really the questions to ask. The better question is who.”
“Who?”
“Yeah. Who you were seen with.”
She paused a moment. Then, “Oh my goodness. You mean pics from last night? Don’t tell me people are thinking that Eric and I are an item.”
“So you’re not?”
“Of course not! No, we just happened to bump into each other at the same gym.”
Just happened, huh? He pressed his lips together.
“And Eric gave me some tips on the rowing machine.”
Jordan rolled his eyes. Of course he did.
“Oh, but this is good. He wants to have coffee with me.”
“What?” Breath stalled. An arrow to the heart couldn’t pierce harder.
“Not like that. No, Eric actually said he wants to have coffee with both of us.”
“Really?” The bands around his chest eased. “Why?”
She explained about Eric saying he was interested in further discussing the app, and that it would be good to have all the interested parties involved. “So I thought you should definitely be there. And Maurice, and Harriet too.”
“And he’s okay with that?”
“Yes. He’s the one who suggested it.”
Huh. Well, that was unexpected. The wind felt like it had been taken out of the sails of his offence. “When?”
“Well, when are you free?”
He scoffed. “You don’t seriously think one of the richest men in Australia is waiting to find out when I’m free?”
“Actually … that’s exactly what he implied, so I’m running with it.”
“EJ, I don’t think he was serious.”
“I think he was. And anyway, I don’t think we need to worry too much. If he doesn’t want to, that’s fine. We’ll find someone else who’s interested.”
Jordan frowned. It sounded too good to be true. Lord? But any effort to hear what God might be saying was shrouded by his heart’s consternation.
Because while he was glad for EJ’s sake that Eric seemed to be a genuinely interested party, he couldn’t help wonder just what else Eric might be interested in.
The month of May wasn’t known for the rich blue skies that appeared on a thousand postcards displaying Sydney’s charms. But today’s skies held that cerulean depth that sparkled across the harbour, layering warmth across the chilly breeze on this autumn day.
It felt like a good day, a good day to be alive.
A day when anything was possible. EJ watched the water surge against the side of the ferry as she crossed the harbour, her thoughts flicking back to yesterday’s online meeting with Harriet, Maurice, and Jordan, where they’d run through a game plan before today’s coffee conversation with Eric and Geoff, his financial adviser.
It had taken a real miracle to get the six of them to find the time to meet.
But there was nothing more motivating than knowing that millions of dollars might be on the line.
So Maurice had rescheduled appointments, and Jordan had taken time off work, and they had all negotiated and renegotiated and rescheduled times with Eric until they had finally pinned down a day to make this happen.
And in just a few hours, they would finally be doing this.
EJ was the key presenter, Maurice would talk specifics about money and legalities, Harriet was working on the presentations, and Jordan was helping to keep things grounded about why Dream Match needed to stay true to its roots.
They’d discussed and planned, and she now felt confident that they had a solid proposal.
She had felt confident, anyway, until she’d received a phone call and message this morning. First Harriet, who’d apologised as her dog needed emergency surgery, so she couldn’t come into Sydney today. “But I’ve emailed through to you the latest version of the prospectus,” she explained.
“Okay.”
Then Maurice had contacted her—his wife’s asthma attack meant he was in hospital with her and couldn’t come in either. “But it’s okay. You’ve got Jordan, right? He knows this stuff as well, so you’ll still have someone to be there.”
“Sure. Tell Rose we’re praying for her,” to which he’d thanked EJ, then ended the call.