Authors: Michele Shriver
Finding Forever
FINDING FOREVER
Finding Forever
By Michele Shriver
Copyright 201
3 Michele Shriver
Published by SMC Publishing
All Rights Reserved
This is a work of fiction. All characters, locales and events are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
“Love is easy to fall into, hard to fall out of and sometimes seems impossible to find.”
- Rashida Rowe
Jake Morrison stared out the window as the plane taxied to the gate, wondering what he’d gotten himself into. For the last half hour, as they made their descent into Grande Valley, Texas, he’d studied the scenery, trying to find something—anything—appealing about the place he would be calling home for the next three months. He’d found nothing other than dirt. Lots and lots of dirt.
For a born and bred Midwesterner who’d called Southern California home for the past fifteen years, life in the desert of West Texas would be an adventure. Thankfully, only a temporary one. That was the great thing about movie locations. They were sometimes awful, but always temporary. Still, as Jake retrieved his carry-on bag from the overhead bin and made his way through the horde of people into the airport terminal, he almost wished his agent could have scored him a movie location in Maui, complete with surf boards and bikini-clad women. Then again, no woman in Maui could hold a candle to one in particular in Grande Valley, Texas, giving Jake’s current location an edge.
He scrolled through the messages on his phone while waiting at the rental car counter. Three from Macy, but she was the last person Jake wanted to talk to. Heck, getting away from her was one of the reasons he signed on to do this movie. He couldn’t take the drama anymore. There were two other calls, from his agent and his publicist. Jake knew which one he wanted to return first, as well as which one he should. He made the practical choice. If he didn’t check in with Greg right away, the agent would just keep calling.
“So you made it,” Greg said.
“Obviously.” The electronic doors opened and Jake stepped outside, immediately feeling the blast of heat. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered.
Greg laughed. “I was just going to ask if you’d been outside yet. I guess that answers my question.”
Jake shielded his eyes as he dug sunglasses out of his bag. “Christ, it’s hot enough to melt hell here.” Already his shirt clung to his body. Maybe having the airline deliver his luggage directly to the hotel later was a bad idea. Now he wouldn’t have a change of clothes for at least a couple hours, but he didn’t want to wait to see Jordan.
“Yeah, but it’s a dry heat.”
“If you say so.” Jake walked in the direction of the rental car lot. “I thought I told you I wanted a beach. Instead, you gave me tumbleweeds.”
“You can’t exactly film a movie about border-town drug wars on the beach, Jake,” Greg said. “And we’re talking Reece White here. This could be your big break.”
Big break. Jake had been hearing that one for years, ever since he got his first contract role on a soap opera that ended up being canceled. Still, he wanted to believe that this movie really could be his ticket to stardom. Reece White was certainly an up
-and-coming director. “If it is, I’ll forgive you for stranding me in the desert for three months.” He located the numbered stall containing his car. “I need to make another call. I’ll check in later.”
Jake tossed his bag in the car, cranked the air conditioner on, put his phone on speaker and rang his publicist as he drove out of the lot. “Do you have her address?” he asked when Val answered.
“I do.” She hesitated. “Whether I think it’s a good idea to give it to you is another matter.”
He figured she might pull something like that. They’d gone a few rounds when he made the request right before leaving Los Angeles. “C’mon, Val. Don’t play games. I need the address.”
“You’re there to film a movie, Jake. No distractions.”
“My first set call isn’t for two days,” he reminded her.
Val grumbled, but rattled off an address. “Fine, but get this little dalliance out of the way before you report to the set.”
“This one’s no dalliance,” Jake said. “She’s special. She’s the one who got away.”
“I’ve heard that before,” Val said, and everything about her tone indicated she was skeptical.
“Yeah, but not from me,” Jake countered. “Thanks. You’re the best publicist a guy could ask for.”
Val chuckled. “I’ll remember you said that. And you remember what I said. Any hint of trouble out there, you’re finding a new ‘best publicist.’”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jake said. “And don’t worry. I left trouble behind.”
Fifteen minutes later, he arrived at the address Val provided. A window-front office building a few blocks from the county courthouse. Jake was used to high-rise office buildings and big firms, not solo operations. Still, as he walked inside and looked around the small reception area, he found it very inviting, with its leather chairs and soft earth tones. A Southwestern motif adorned the wall, and an attractive brunette sat behind a reception desk.
“Can I help you?” The girl greeted him with a friendly smile.
“Yes. I’m here to see Jordan.”
“Ms. Priestley is in court this afternoon, but if you’d like to leave your name and number, I can have her call you to set up an appointment.”
Jake glanced at the clock behind the desk. Almost four. “The courthouse ought to be closing pretty soon. I think I’ll wait, if you don’t mind.” He had nothing better to do, and besides, at least it was cool in the office.
The receptionist frowned. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. She’s finishing up a big trial and she doesn’t accept new clients by walk-in. You need an appointment.”
“Oh, I’m not a new client,” Jake said. “I’m an old friend.” He just hoped Jordan would agree with that description.
***
Jordan stood and watched as the jury exited the courtroom before turning to her client. He might be two months past his nineteenth birthday, but he looked much younger. He was also now a convicted felon, but at least wasn’t heading to prison. In that regard, Jordan’s afternoon wasn’t a total loss. “Good luck, Trey,” she said.
“Thanks for everything you did, Jordan.” He extended a hand. “I mean that.”
The verdict hadn’t gone in their favor, but the sentencing had, and she knew he was relieved to receive probation. Jordan chalked that up as a victory, guilty verdict notwithstanding. “You’re welcome. Just don’t mess this up.”
He vowed he wouldn’t, but as Jordan watched the young man exit the courtroom, some doubt lingered whether her words would carry any weight.
“I should probably congratulate you,” the prosecutor said when they were alone.
“Likewise,” Jordan said. “You got your conviction.” Her former law school classmate, Beth Brewster, w
as finishing her first term as district attorney and up for re-election. The conviction was what mattered, though Jordan knew Beth wasn’t happy to have lost the sentencing phase.
“He should do time,” Beth said. “But you swayed the jury with the whole rotten childhood thing.”
Jordan shrugged, not offering any apology for her tactics. “He’s practically still a kid. He deserves another chance.” The jury obviously agreed with her.
“Bleeding-
heart liberal,” Beth teased.
Jordan laughed. “Bite me.” It was a familiar refrain. There was a time when Beth would have looked at Jordan with pure spite, and Jordan didn’t blame her. Thankfully, they were past that, and she now counted Beth as a close friend, even though they landed on opposite sides of the courtroom as well as the political spectrum.
“What are you doing later?” Beth asked as they left the courthouse. “Want to come over for dinner? Aaron’s still in Dallas.”
Jordan squinted in the blazing summer sun and stopped to remove the jacket of her business suit. “I’ll take a rain check,” she said. “It’s my meeting night, and I don’t want to miss.”
Beth’s brow furrowed. “Are you okay, Jordan?” Concern was evident in her voice. “I know it was a tough case.”
“I’m fine.” One of the hardest things about being an alcoholic in recovery was making others understand that when Jordan said she needed to go to a meeting, it didn’t mean she felt vulnerable. It meant she didn’t want to get to the point where she did. “I just want to make sure it stays that way.”
Jordan said goodbye to Beth and walked the two blocks back to her office, grateful she’d chosen a sleeveless blouse under her suit. She was even more grateful that Jen always kept the office thermostat set to frigid and she was met with a blast of cold air as soon as she opened the door.
“How’d it go, boss?” Jen asked.
Jordan flashed a thumbs-up. “Probation.”
Jen grinned. “You’re a rock star.”
“I am indeed.”
“There’s a gentlemen in the conference room who would like to see you.”
Jordan sighed. “I don’t take walk-ins unannounced, especially when I’ve just finished a long trial. You know that, Jen.” Still, she kept her tone gentle. Good office help wasn’t easy to find, and Jen had been with her since the early days of opening a solo law practice, when she struggled to make payroll every two weeks. Jen was loyal, and Jordan appreciated that.
“Yes, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Jen said. “Oh, and he’s very handsome.”
Which explained why her receptionist let him stay. Jordan rolled her eyes. “That might be important criteria if I were looking for a husband. In a prospective client, not so much.”
Jordan walked down the hall to the conference room and pushed the door open. The man was seated with his back to her, resting his legs on her cherry conference table, which immediately annoyed her. Presumptuous, much? At least he wore nice loafers—probably Italian leather, she decided—rather than dusty cowboy boots.
“I see you’ve made yourself right at home,” she said. “I’ll have to ask you to leave, though. I’m not seeing clients today.”
“Oh, I don’t need a lawyer. I have a whole team of them back in Cali.” The man stood and turned around. “You were always the best, though. In more ways than one.” He smiled. “Hiya, Jordan.”
The deep baritone of his voice was instantly familiar even before he showed his face, and she’d never forget those gray eyes. Four years ago, Jordan had left California behind and never looked back. She preferred it that way. Now a piece of her life there was standing in her office, and damned if he wasn’t still as sexy as ever. “Jake.”
“Long time no see.”
He said it in a way that had part of Jordan’s brain thinking it had been way too long, while another part worried it hadn’t been nearly long enough. Jake had possessed the right combination of down-home Midwestern charm and Hollywood bad boy to tempt her from the moment she laid eyes on him fourteen years before, when she’d drafted the contract for his first major acting role. Just bad boy, and Jordan would have been completely turned off. All down-home, and she never would have deemed him interesting enough to give him a second glance.
Seeing him standing in her conference room, wearing black slacks and a blue dress shirt perfectly tailored to his slim-but-athletic physique, Jordan wished he could have been one or the other. Then he wouldn’t be part of a past she needed to leave behind or standing here now, ready to tempt her again. Jordan suspected plenty of other women had been tempted by Jake Morrison over the years.
“What brings you here?” She crossed to the window and adjusted the blinds.
Jake followed her. “Would you believe me if I said I missed you?”
The last time she’d seen him, when she ran into him in the hall of the law firm after packing up the contents of her California office, Jake told her he’d miss her. While she suspected there were some things he missed about the times they’d been together, for him to say he missed
her
implied that he actually knew her. And Jake didn’t know Jordan at all. “No,” she said. “Especially since I left Los Angeles four years ago and you’re just showing up in Grande Valley now.”
“I’ve been working,” Jake said. “If you’ve followed my career at all?” His eyes searched hers as if looking for affirmation.
Part of her wanted to deny it. She didn’t want to be responsible for feeding his ego, or elevating the time they’d spent together to any status higher than wild nights she’d lived to regret. Still, his voice carried a hopeful edge to it, as if it would really mean something to him if Jordan had paid attention to his acting career over the years.
“I have, yes.” During her time representing Hollywood actors and actresses, Jordan saw too many flame out quickly, succumbing to the pressures of the business. She wanted better for Jake. “Congratulations on your success.” He wasn’t a big star, but he kept busy enough with prime-time episodic work and a few minor film roles.
“Thanks.” Jake smiled, revealing dimples in his cheeks. “I’m actually in town to film a movie. We start shooting in a few days. It’s called
Border Cowboys
, and Reece White’s directing. I’ve got a pretty big part. Not the lead, but I get first billing after the title.”
When Jordan first heard a movie crew was headed to Grande Valley, she’d laughed at the irony. She
’d left Hollywood behind, but now part of it was coming to Texas. Most of the locals were thrilled, thinking it might put the much-maligned border town in the news for something positive for a change. Since the film was about the drug war, Jordan somehow doubted it. Still, even people who lived under a rock had heard of Reece White, and it was hard not to be affected by the enthusiasm with which Jake talked about his new role. “I’m impressed. Really,” she said. “You’ve come a long way since I wrote your first contract for
Passions
.”
“Does that mean I owe it all to you?”
Jordan couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. “I’ll take the credit if you’re giving it.” She laughed as she opened the small refrigerator in her conference room. “I doubt I have your first choice in here, but it’s hot and you’re probably thirsty. I know I am,” she said. “Club soda, ginger ale, Coke or Diet Coke?”
“Coke, I guess, if it’s the best you have.”
“It’s a law office, not a bar.”
I’m also seven years sober now and I’d like to keep it that way.
Jordan handed him a Coke and poured a glass of club soda for herself.
“Thanks.”
She held up her glass. “Toast? To your movie?”
“Sure.” Jake grinned as he tapped his can to her glass. “And to old times.”
Old times. Jordan doubted that was a good thing to drink to. She went over to the conference table and sat down. “You’re in Grande Valley to film a movie. That doesn’t tell me how you ended up in my office, much less how you sweet-talked Jen into letting you stay.”
Jake sat down in the chair opposite her. “What I said earlier was true. I’ve missed you. I still use the Simmons firm for my contract work, and they told me you lived here now. When I booked this film, I asked my rep to find an address for you. As for the rest, your receptionist was easy.” Jake shrugged. “I think she likes dimples.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Jordan chuckled. “Sorry if I was a little rude initially. It’s been a long couple days, and I really don’t see walk-in clients, especially after a difficult trial.”
Jake nodded. “No worries. What kind of trial?”
“Criminal defense. Nineteen-year-old kid robbed a liquor store.” Since Trey had been found guilty by a jury, Jordan figured it was now safe to say he’d done it. Not that there was ever much doubt. “He was trying to get some money for his mom’s medications.” She took a drink. “Not the best way to do it, obviously, but he had good intentions.” That was what she’d told the jury, anyway, and apparently they believed it.
“Maybe, but you know what they say about the road to hell.”
“Touché.” Jordan smiled. “I got him probation. We’ll see what he does with it.”
“Then congratulations to you, too.” Jake took a long swallow and set the can down. “Thanks for this, but I’m ready for something stronger. What do you say? Once more, for old time’s sake?”
***
Jordan said to follow her, and Jake was more than happy to oblige. Her initial greeting might have been a bit chilly, but the rest of her was hot enough to make up for it. Then she admitted she’d been following his career, and Jake had all the confirmation he needed.
Passions
was canceled. His character on
General Hospital
got killed off. He’d filmed two pilots that never got picked up and a couple of low-budget films that few people saw and no one remembered. Still, he never stopped believing in himself.
Then Macy Hayes came along. The less said about that period of his life, the better, but when it was done, no one could dispute that his reputation had taken a hit. Thankfully, Greg and Val went to bat for him and Reece White took a chance on him. As a result, starting the day after tomorrow, Jake had the
chance to bring Border Patrol Agent Lance Foley to life. If everything played out right, it could be the role that changed his life.
And the movie would film in the town that Jordan now called home.
Grande Valley, Texas was where he was meant to be.
A church, though? Jake was far less sure that was where he was meant to be. “Why’d we come here?” he asked when Jordan got out of the car he parked next to. “I thought we were going to go have a drink for old time’s sake.”
“There’s something else I need to do first. It’s up to you whether you stay or go.” Jordan walked toward the church entrance, her stride purposeful.
Damn, she had nice legs. Jake wanted a beer, but he followed her. “I’ll stay.” If only he knew what he was staying for. Hopefully it would pay off later.
“Fair enough. You should probably sit in the back, though, in case you decide to make a quick exit.”
Jake took a seat in the back row of chairs and watched as Jordan made her way to the front of the room, where she was immediately greeted by a tall, dark-haired guy who gave her a hug. Jordan said something to the guy, who smiled and nodded.
What the hell? She dragged him to a church and now she planned to flaunt another guy in his face? That normally would have been enough to get Jake to leave, but he got the sense that was exactly what Jordan expected, so he stayed.
A few minutes later, the tall guy walked up to podium and asked everyone to please take their seats. “Good evening,” he said. “This is the regular open meeting of the Clayton County Group of Alcoholics Anonymous. My name is Carl, and I’m an alcoholic and your secretary.”
It took a few seconds for the words to sink in. It was an AA meeting. Jordan dragged him along to an AA meeting. She must just be there to support the guy, right? That had to be it.
He listened as everyone recited the Serenity Prayer, and then newcomers were asked to introduce themselves, and a few people stood up. Jake listened to their stories, but still had no idea why he was there. He got his answer when Jordan got up to stand beside Carl.
“At this time, I’d like to introduce Jordan, who will be the Chairperson for tonight’s meeting,” Carl said. “Jordan has volunteered to lead our discussion, which will focus on the first step.”
“Thanks, Carl.” Jordan took the microphone from him and turned to the group. “I didn’t plan on saying anything tonight, let alone leading the discussion. I was just going to sit here and listen, because like many of you, I find strength in listening to other people’s stories. Then something happened today. I ran into someone from my old life. He’s actually the person I spent the night with the last night I touched a drop of alcohol. I was out of control that night. My life was unmanageable. And that’s why I want to talk tonight about the first step of our program. Admitting that we are powerless over alcohol and that our lives have become unmanageable.”
***
Jake stayed for the whole meeting. Jordan figured he might run, but he stayed and listened. Several times while she led the discussion, her eyes met his, and she wondered what he was thinking.
Did he feel blindsided, being brought here for this? Did he think her a coward for not simply telling him back at the office? She kind of felt like one.
He stood waiting by the doorway when the meeting ended, leaning against the wall with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Instead of staring uncomfortably at the floo
r, though, he met her gaze head-on. Jordan had to give him credit for that.
“I didn’t think you’d stay,” she said.
“I found it all very enlightening. Explained a lot of things.” He moved away from the wall, standing up straight. “Not everything, though. We need to talk, Jordan. So can we get out of here now? Go for coffee or something?”
Coffee. At least he suggested coffee now, and not beer. Jordan respected him for that, but he still didn’t get it. “No. I brought you here tonight so you’d see that’s not possible. We had some fun together once, and I should probably be flattered you remember it fondly enough to look me up again. But I’m not the girl you used to know. I’m never going to be her again. There can’t be a ‘once more for old time’s sake’ with us. You need to forget about me, Jake.”
Even though I know I’ll never forget about you.