Chapter 20 #2
She straightened her shoulders. “Jordan is the cocreator of Dream Match, and it’s only right that he comes to hear what you have to say tonight.”
“But I thought you two weren’t talking to each other.”
“He forgave me,” she said simply.
“He forgave you?” Gwen coughed. “I think you’re forgetting how rude he was to you last weekend. The one who should be doing any forgiving is you. And us, seeing as Jordan was rude to both of us, and wrecked Eric’s do.” She placed a hand on Eric’s arm, which twitched. Subtle, but it was there.
Weird. And weirder too, considering Eric had constantly said last week was EJ’s party.
Not his. She shook her head. She was obviously feeling highly strung to be overly sensitive like this.
“I was the one who didn’t treat him well.
But because he’s a good man, he’s decided to let that stay in the past and come tonight. ”
She caught the way Gwen and Eric looked at each other. It was only there for a second; then they both resumed their expressions. But it was enough to make her wonder if something else was going on.
Eric inclined his chin. “I suppose now that Jordan is coming, we’ll have to ask for a bigger table.” He nodded to a passing waiter and made that request.
The server’s eyes rounded, and he murmured something she didn’t quite pick up.
But the waiter couldn’t very well argue with Eric Churchill.
Nobody could argue very well with Eric Churchill.
Which was exactly why EJ needed someone with her tonight who could argue with Eric Churchill.
And the fact she recognised and could admit that Jordan could do something she couldn’t, for once did not make her feel like she’d failed as a strong and savvy businesswoman.
Just made her glad he was on her side. She hoped.
“You really should’ve mentioned about Jordan coming earlier,” Gwen murmured.
EJ nodded. But she remained stubbornly glad she hadn’t.
She picked at the bread roll as the waitstaff quickly addressed their table situation, adding a square table at one end.
Eric thanked them then turned to her. “Happy now?”
“Thank you.”
He studied her a moment, then nodded and drank the rest of his wine before ordering another bottle.
Oh. It was going to be one of those nights, was it?
She contrasted Eric’s constant drinking with the fact Jordan barely drank at all. Another way the men differed.
She inched away from where Eric’s arm lay along the back of her seat, his fingers toying with the strap of her dress.
She was sorely tempted to put the leather jacket back on, but even that felt like giving into what Eric wanted.
Maybe she’d need to give the jacket back.
Her heart panged because she really liked it.
It was so comfortable and soft. Or maybe she’d give it to Harriet.
Their waiter, who had been super attentive so far, approached once more. “Mr. Churchill, there is a man here who says he’s part of your party. A friend of Miss Bennett’s.”
Jordan was here? She half rose; then Eric tugged her down. “Sit down, EJ.”
She sat, not wanting to draw more attention to herself, rankling at the way Eric seemed to think himself superior. How dare he tell her what to do?
Her eyes scanned the dim restaurant, then—oh, thank goodness. Thank You, God. It was Jordan.
But not like any Jordan she’d ever seen before.
This Jordan looked serious, tense, like a soldier on a mission, ready for battle.
Jordan’s gaze flicked to her, and she found a small smile, but he still didn’t.
Her heart grew tight. Hadn’t he read all her messages pleading for his forgiveness?
She moved to her feet—she needed to explain!
—but Eric grasped her arm and muttered, “Stay.”
She sank uncertainly back in her seat. Jordan’s face didn’t hold warmth, not like the easygoing man she’d always known. Had she hurt him that much?
“Jordan.” Eric remained seated as he stretched out a hand. A power move. “This was unexpected.”
Jordan gripped Eric’s hand then glanced at EJ. She bit her lip, then mouthed, Sorry. “EJ felt it was important that I be here. And to be honest, I felt it was important to be here too.”
“Sounds serious,” Gwen said, going in for two cheek kisses.
Jordan moved his head away. He still hadn’t touched EJ.
He nodded to the other guests, then took the open seat. Which just so happened to be the farthest away from EJ.
“We’ve all ordered, but there’ll be time for you to order too.”
Jordan seemed to hesitate, and for a second she thought he was tempted to walk right out again. Then he shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”
Eric clicked and the waiter appeared again. Jordan glanced at the menu then ordered the beef.
“You look like you’ve got beef already,” Gwen observed.
Jordan sipped his glass of water the waiter had just filled and ignored her.
Okay. This was going well. EJ had to talk to him, but the way he was carrying on, barely acknowledging her, and the way Eric was acting all possessive made her wonder how to manage that. She stood. “Excuse me for a moment.”
She eyed Jordan, then picked up her bag. Hopefully he’d pick up on the fact she needed to talk to him privately.
“Where are you going?” Eric asked.
“To the bathroom.” Via a conversation with Jordan, she hoped.
“Oh, good. I’ll come too,” Gwen said.
EJ faked a smile like her foiled plan didn’t matter, then sent Jordan another silent message with her eyes. He had to know she needed to talk to him, right? If not about last week, then at least about Dream Match. Hadn’t she made that clear in her message earlier?
But he didn’t move, so she resigned herself to going to the bathroom after all. Inside the gold-decorated room, she took a stall far away from Gwen. Then waited for Gwen’s door to lock. Then flushed the toilet and instantly went back outside again. And sure enough—thank God—Jordan was there.
“Oh, Jordan, I’m so sorry!” She flung herself at him, clasping him in a hug that felt like home.
But two seconds later, he pushed her away. “You can’t do that here. People are watching.”
“He’s so controlling.” She shivered. “And I didn’t know how to speak to you, or if you’d even speak to me, and—”
“EJ, there is something you need to know.”
“What is it?”
“Look, I hate to be the one who tells you this, but Eric and Gwen—”
“Eric and Gwen what?” Gwen’s voice snipped behind them.
She swung around to see Gwen’s narrow-eyed gaze.
“That was the quickest bathroom visit in history, EJ.”
“I need to speak with Jordan.”
“Do you? I think you’ll find that Eric wants to speak to you. To both of you. So how about you both come this way?”
EJ glanced at Jordan, but he was scowling at Gwen.
Why did she feel exactly like a baby bird about to be pounced on by a tiger snake?
“Come on. It looks like our food has been served.”
Gwen’s fingernail scratched her as she tugged at EJ.
“Just go,” Jordan murmured. “We’ll be talking soon enough.”
They rejoined the table, where sure enough, their food had arrived. “Yours will be coming shortly,” the waiter apologised to Jordan.
“No problem.”
EJ hesitated, not wanting to start eating without him, even though the others all had.
“Eat before it gets cold,” Eric muttered, which instantly set her back up. She wasn’t a child, needing to be told what to do.
“It’s okay, EJ,” Jordan murmured. “Really.”
She studied him a moment longer; then he nodded, before a notification pinged on his phone.
A minute later, Jordan’s steak was set before him and she could finally relax and join him.
But Eric wasn’t happy. Perhaps he wasn’t used to people not playing by his rules. He kept looking between EJ and Jordan, and Jordan kept his sniper gaze locked on him in those moments when his head wasn’t bent over his steak.
Why was he looking so fierce? What did he want to say?
“So, about Dream Match—” Eric began.
“Actually, I have a couple of questions before you begin.”
Eric tensed, his displeasure at Jordan’s interruption plain. His hand fisted. “It’s a bit late in the scheme of things to be bringing them up now. As I was saying—”
“On the contrary, it’s the perfect time,” Jordan interrupted again, straightening in his seat.
Her heart hammered. What was he doing? Didn’t Jordan know they needed to get this sorted? If he kept interrupting and ticking off Eric, there was a fair chance that he might not want to invest after all.
“We’re trying to have a business meeting here,” Eric intoned.
“You’re being rather rude,” Gwen murmured to Jordan.
“Hmm, I find that rather rich when it comes from a person who has been carrying on with my friend’s boyfriend behind everyone’s back.”
EJ froze, as the air was sucked from around the table. What had Jordan said?
“Excuse me?” Gwen’s high-pitched voice could clean bird poop from the rafters.
“I think you heard me.” Jordan finished eating unconcernedly, then pushed away his plate. His gaze landed on EJ, his expression soft.
No.
Eric placed his cutlery on his plate. “I think you are mistaken.”
“Mm.” Jordan’s tone held doubt. “Does this look mistaken to you?” He drew out his phone and held it where Eric could see. Where EJ could see.
Her breath suspended. Was that Eric—clutching Gwen’s rear?
Nausea rolled through her stomach.
“It’s not what it looks like,” Gwen said quickly.
“I don’t see how you can explain it away in any other way.” Again Jordan’s eyes met hers, his look saying he was sorry.
She pressed her lips together, knowing eyes were on her. A candle glowed on the table; she concentrated on it, not on the way her world felt like it was shattering around her.
She had a choice now. Act the part of the enraged girlfriend and press Eric for details. Or be classy and let it slide.
Stuff being classy.
She turned to face Eric, lifting her eyebrows in the way that had always worked on Lionel. It was time to see if it would work on him too.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Eric said. “It was years ago.”