Finding the Perfect Man (13 page)

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Authors: Marie Higgins

BOOK: Finding the Perfect Man
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That scared her to death.

In the kitchen, she and Serena prepared Christmas dinner. Jordan was relieved to see her stepmother with more energy today than she had yesterday. Serena dressed in dark jeans and a green sweater, looking more relaxed and down-to-earth. The older woman actually looked like an ordinary person instead of someone so wealthy.  Serena had pulled her hair away from her face in a ponytail. The dark circles under her eyes worried Jordan. Obviously, the illness was taking its toll.

Thankfully, Kenneth stayed in the living room watching football on tv. Serena was a different person when he wasn’t around, and Jordan enjoyed her stepmother this way. Unfortunately, there was still no way she could convince Serena to divorce the jerk. Serena said Kenneth was very good at running her business.

Jordan and her stepmother had talked of the old days, and some of the things they’d done together. They talked about the good times when Jordan’s father was alive…before he’d lost his mind. Soon, the conversation stopped and the only sound that was heard was the Christmas songs playing on the cd player Jordan had in the room.

With the silence, last night’s memories came back, and she smiled. She felt so sappy thinking about Brock this way. Was it the holidays that made her heart so happy? Would she return to being the untrusting doctor once Serena and Kenneth left?

The doorbell rang, startling Jordan from her dreamy thoughts. Excitement jumped inside her.
Brock was here!
She spun around and rushed to the door, praying that Kenneth wouldn’t try to answer it. Luckily, he stayed on the sofa as if his butt was glued to the piece of furniture.

She brushed her palms over her hair, hoping it still looked alright from when she’d styled it this morning. Taking a deep breath to calm her quick beating heart, she opened the door. Brock stood bundled in a coat with a scarf wrapped around his neck. Outside, big heavy snowflakes drifted from the sky, painting the land in white.

“Merry Christmas, pretty lady.”

As always, her heart flipped from the endearment. “Oh, come in, Brock.” She ushered him in.

He stepped just inside the door and closed it behind him. “I can’t stay,” he said, “but I had to bring you this.”

When he reached his hand out, she noticed he was holding an apple pie with plastic wrap over it.

“I don’t do a lot of baking,” he said, “but I do know how to make an excellent apple pie.” He grinned.

She took the pie as her hopes dropped. “You can’t stay?”

“No, my older brother and his family gave us an unexpected visit, but I knew I had to come see you—if only for a minute. Long enough to deliver the pie, and kiss you.” He leaned closer and swept his lips gently across hers briefly. Taking gentle care, he swept his knuckles across her cheek. “You know, I think I’ve gone half mad because I find myself wanting to be near you lately.”

In a way, she wished he’d stop saying such sweet words. How much more skipping and melting could her heart take? “Well, if you’re half mad, then I’m completely crazy because I feel the same.”

He kissed her again, making it longer, but not as long as she wanted. When he pulled away, his eyes twinkled as a smile tugged on his mouth.

“I hope you’re having a good day, and I’m really sorry I can’t stay longer.”

She nodded. “I understand. Will…will you come see me tomorrow?”

“Definitely.” He looked over her shoulder and waved. “Hi, Serena.”

“Hello, Brock,” she answered.

He turned, opened the door, and left the house. Although he was here for only a brief moment, his visit made Jordan’s day that much brighter.

Serena watched her closely as she passed her on her way back to the kitchen. Jordan placed the apple pie on the counter, but didn’t move. Staring at the dessert, she relished in the gooey emotions running through her. It had been so long since she felt this happy. She prayed it would last.

“You know,” Serena said, moving next to her, “I really like that boy.”

Jordan laughed and looked at her stepmother. “He’s not a boy, Serena.”

“No, he’s definitely not a boy. He’s one very good looking man…and one that can cook. I’m impressed. What impresses me more is the way he treats you.” He patted Jordan’s forearm. “You deserve a man who treats you like a queen.”

Jordan was smiling so much she thought her face would break. “Yes, he does treat me well, doesn’t he? I don’t know why I have fallen so quickly for him, but there’s just something about him that keeps me interested.”

Serena snorted. “With a body like that, I don’t have to imagine what it is.”

Heat consumed Jordan’s face. In the beginning she’d thought that, too. “True, but there is more to him. Every day he surprises me and I like him the more I learn about him.”

From the corner of her eyes she noticed Kenneth lurking just outside the kitchen entry. Irritation rose inside her and she wished he’d just leave her alone and disappear from the face of the earth. She met Serena’s gaze again. “Another thing I like about Brock is that he gives me room to be myself. No other man has been able to do that. I can’t help but love him.”

After she said the words, she sucked in a silent breath.
Love?
Could the tightness in her chest whenever she thought of Brock, actually be love?

“What did you say?” Serena asked, touching Jordan’s arm. “Did I just hear you correctly?”

Jordan chuckled. “Yes, you probably did.”

“Oh, my dear.” Serena clapped her hands together and released a cheerful squeal. “You have certainly made my Christmas complete.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because, since your father took his own life, you have been a total wreck.” She took hold of Jordan’s hands. “True, you devoted a lot of time to getting your office set up and finding patients, but I could see you were not truly happy. What your father did brought havoc to all who loved him. I never thought you would get over it.” Tears spiked her eyes. “Now I can see you have finally put that behind you—and your disastrous relationship you had with Kenneth—and moved forward…just as your father would have wanted. You have finally allowed yourself to love again, which is what I have wanted for you since your father died.”

Serena’s words hit Jordan hard, and she quickly turned to the oven to check on the turkey. Could her stepmother be correct? That woman wasn’t the professional psychiatrist…Jordan was! Yet why hadn’t she seen this in her own emotions? Regardless, now was not the time to analyze her feelings about her father’s suicide, and it definitely wasn’t the time to think of the “L” word with Brock. However, now that Serena brought it up, Jordan’s thoughts were taken up as she examined this new emotion. Impossible! She couldn’t be in love with him this soon. She needed to learn more about him. For one, she needed to learn if he was being honest with her about his relationship with Lanie…or was the ex-wife the one telling the truth? Jordan knew she couldn’t be with a man who lied. Trust was
everything
in a relationship.

TWELVE

 

The day after Christmas was work as usual. Serena and Kenneth left for their home bright and early this morning. It had been a good visit, and although Jordan didn’t want to do much but lay around the house today, she had appointments with her clients that were sorely needed.

After the first two appointments, she had time to relax before Sam Carter’s appointment. He was a complex person with split personalities, but she felt as if they were making a breakthrough on his progress. As she sat at her desk going over his notes, Brock came into her mind again. Then again, that man was never far from her mind anyway. She wished she knew him better. She wished she could get rid of all the doubts she had about him.

Well…there was only one way to fix that. She’d have to research his life…any way she could.

Brock said he owned a construction company. She grabbed the phonebook and looked through the yellow pages at all the construction businesses in Thompson Falls, Montana…which were quite a few.

She quickly shrugged on her coat and bundled herself up before going outside to get in her car. One by one, she drove past these places of business, but didn’t see his mint-green Jaguar out in front. She didn’t dare go inside to ask, so kept on with her search.

As she came closer to the next one on her list—J & B’s Construction, she slowed her speed as she searched the cars in the parking area. When she saw Brock’s car, she breathed a sigh of relief. She mentally argued with herself about whether or not she should go inside and surprise him. In the end, she decided she had to see him now.

She drove up the street and made a u-turn. As she came upon the building, an older man climbed out of his full-size, white Chevy truck. Something about him looked familiar. In the back of her head, she knew she’d met him…talked to him, and even grieved with him.

Slowly she drove by the building without stopping, still keeping an eye on him in her rearview mirror. He walked to the back door of the building, withdrew a key, and went inside. Whoever he was, he held enough power to own a key.

Something inside her wasn’t settling in her mind. Things weren’t right, and her gut told her she should figure them out before going in to talk to Brock. All the way back to her office, she struggled to remember. She knew the man, but how? He hadn’t been one of her clients, so…had he been a relative?

Immediately memories flooded her mind of where and when they had met. He was Emily Hamill’s father—the mentally ill client Jordan tried to help two years ago. Emily had manic depression. Jordan tried desperately to help the young girl, but Emily wouldn’t pull out. Eventually, she’d killed herself.

Pain gripped Jordan’s chest, making it hard to breathe. She pulled her car to the side of the road. Her hands shook. The beat of her heart careened out of control as if she was on a winding snowy road. How were Emily and Brock related? Brother and sister, perhaps? And what were the odds that Brock didn’t know Jordan had been Emily’s doctor?

Brock hadn’t been at Emily’s funeral. Jordan would have remembered him. Yet, after the hurtful accusations Emily’s parents flung into her face at the gravesite, she hadn’t been able to get those words out of her head. Although she knew it wasn’t her fault Emily had taken her own life, Jordan still held a piece of guilt hidden in her heart for not helping her.

Once again, doubt settled inside her mind. Why had Brock really wanted to be her business partner? Confusion throbbed in her head all the way to her office. Questions swam in her head, and deep down in her gut, she knew she was afraid to discover the answers.

When she walked in the lobby of her office, Erica’s white-face expression grabbed Jordan’s attention. Erica sniffed back a sob and covered her mouth. Black make-up smudged under the secretary’s eyes.

Jordan rushed to her and grabbed Erica’s cold hand. “What’s wrong?”

Erica’s body shook as her eyes switched back and forth between Jordan and her office. “When I came back from running errands, the door was wide open. I thought it was you, even though your car wasn’t here. When I entered your office, a man dressed in black and wearing a ski mask knocked me over and ran out.” Her tears began falling again. “Oh, Jordan, I didn’t know what to do. I was so scared.”

Jordan wrapped her arms around her friend, giving her more comfort. “How long ago did this happen?”

“Five, ten minutes, maybe.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No. He just bumped my shoulder on his way out.”

“Did you recognize him?”

“No.”

“Did you notice if he took anything?”

She shook her head. “Everything looked exactly the same as when I left.”

“Have you called the police yet?”

“Yes.” She wiped her eyes. “They should be here shortly.”

Jordan pressed her cheek against Erica’s forehead and hugged her tighter. “You did the right thing.”

Within minutes, the police arrived in two squad cars. While one searched Jordan’s office and dusted for fingerprints, the other asked questions. Jordan couldn’t tell them anything, except for the letters.

“What letters, Ma’am?” the younger officer asked.

She took an uneven breath. “About three weeks ago, I received an unmarked letter in the mail. Someone had cut out letters from a magazine and pasted them to the paper. It was a threat. I’ve gotten two letters since.”

“What?” Erica pulled away from Jordan with wide eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jordan shrugged. “Because I didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t take it seriously.”

“Ma’am,” the officer cut in. “What did the message say?”

“It said,
I’m watching you. I’ll get you, yet
.”

“Jordan.” Erica’s voice rose. “How could you not take that seriously?”

Jordan leaned back against the wall, folding her arms. “When I got the first letter, I wasn’t worried, but when the other two came, I decided to call the authorities.” She shook her head. “Because of everything that was going on, I decided not to do anything until after Christmas.”

“Do you think one of your clients is sending these letters?” the officer asked.

“No. I don’t have any clients that would do such a thing.”

“Doctor Reed, do you have any new clients in the past three weeks, since you started getting these letters?”

She shook her head, but then she remembered Brock. No…he couldn’t have done that. Not the same man who kissed her so passionately and treated her like a queen. Yet, not more than a half hour ago, she’d doubted his reason for being in her life. His family had been very upset at Emily’s funeral, blaming Jordan for the suicide. Did Brock feel the same?

Swallowing the lump of suspicion lodged in her throat, she glanced at Erica. “Well, I do have one new client,” Jordan began.

Erica jumped up from her chair and grasped her hands. “No! You know it’s not him. He isn’t capable of something so vicious.”

The policeman prodded. “Who? Who’s your new client?”

Jordan’s heart wrenched. She was a good judge of people, and her heart told her it couldn’t be Brock.

She pulled away from the wall and straightened to her full height when she faced the officer. “Erica’s right. It wasn’t him. I’m sure of it.”

“You’re not going to give me even a name so that I can check him out?”

“No. I’m sorry, Officer Pyatt, but my patients are confidential.”

“We’ll see about that,” he grumbled.

She scowled, knowing that he could get her to release that information, if he pushed it. But then, that was only if she pressed charges.

“Do you still have the letters?”

Jordan nodded and walked into her office. She hurried to her desk, straight to her bottom drawer. They were gone!

That couldn’t be. She’d hidden the letters in the drawer just the other day.

She gasped. “They’re not here.”

“Did you put them somewhere else?”

She threw an irritated glare at the policeman. “No. I think I would remember where I put something so important.”

She crouched lower and shuffled through the drawer, then she moved to the drawer just higher, but the letters weren’t there. Even Erica hadn’t known where she’d kept them.

“I don’t know what happened to them,” Jordan snapped irritably.

“Well, when you find them, give us a call. I think it’s something we need to check out.”

Jordan nodded, but remained staring into the empty drawer. She had put them here…hadn’t she?

Officer Whitney, the senior officer, stood beside her. She looked up to meet his serious expression. Of course, like her own profession, she knew the police had many different facades.

“We’ll take these samples to the lab and call you with the results. It looks like the prowler broke your locks, so I’d replace them as soon as possible.”

She smiled the best she could under the stressful circumstances. “Thank you. I’ll do that today.”

“I suggest you cancel the rest of your appointments for the day.”

She nodded, but Erica answered. “I’ll get right on it.”

After the men left, Jordan sank into her chair and covered her face with her hands. What a mess. Why couldn’t she remember? She
had
put them in the drawer! So why weren’t they there? She didn’t want to even consider that she was losing her mind like her father had. No, it was definitely something else. Could their thief have taken them? There was no reason why he should unless…unless he was the person who’d sent them.

Perhaps the stress of the week had finally gotten to her. Serena and Kenneth’s visit, and Jordan’s sudden interest in a man. Not to mention thinking Brock and Rocky were two different men.

She dropped her hands and stared across the room, not seeing anything. Nothing but Brock’s image, that is. She sighed. He filled her thoughts so much lately. Up until now they were usually happy thought. Now she became suspicious.

She tried to imagine Brock trying to sabotage her business. If only she trusted him more. That hurt the most. Was it because Emily Hamill was his sister? Or was it because Jordan was still leery of men?

Pulling herself out of her thoughts, she walked back into the lobby. Erica was on the phone, calling to cancel her appointments. The poor girl. She shouldn’t have been here alone. Jordan shouldn’t have tried to find Brock’s office.

After Erica hung up the phone, she looked up at Jordan. “Do you need something?”

Jordan shook her head. “I just wanted to tell you thank you for everything you do for me. You’re a great secretary.”

The smile Erica gave didn’t reach her eyes like it usually did. The stress of the morning had probably gotten to her.

“Thanks. I really love working for you, too.”

Jordan walked to Erica’s desk and sat on the corner, gently swinging her leg. “When you finish calling everybody, I want you to go home.”

“I will.” Erica paused. “Are you going home?”

“Yes, but not until I can get the locks changed. I have things to do here while I’m waiting for the Locksmith.”

“Are you going to clean up? I can help if you are.”

“Yes, I’ll clean up, but I don’t need your help. One of my former clients has been on my mind, and I’m really struggling with trying to help him. I’ll be deep in thought for a while.”

“Who, Brock?”

There was a slight tug on Erica’s mouth, making her look as if she fought to smile. “It’s not what you think, Erica,” Jordan quickly added. “If you remember right, he was the man who filled the position as my business partner.”

Erica shrugged. “He’s a very good looking man.”

“Yes, he is.”

“I thought he was slightly good-looking in his pathetic disguise, but now I know he’s the guy at the bar…” Erica whistled. “He’s a hottie.”

Jordan laughed. “Yes, he’s definitely a hottie.”

“Well, I better get back to these phone calls.” Erica picked up the phone and dialed another number. “I’ll leave when I’m finished.”

Jordan returned to her office, closing the door behind her. The rest of the day would be a challenge for her. How could she keep her mind off Brock and on the person threatening her? Or were they one and the same?

* * * *

Brock walked out of his office, heading toward his black Chevy Ram truck when his cell phone rang. The caller ID read Dr. Jordan Reed. His heart picked up rhythm when he answered in a deep voice. “Hello?”

“Hi, Brock, this is Erica from Doctor Reed’s office.”

The secretary’s voice held a serious undertone, and he frowned. “Erica? What’s wrong?”

“Jordan doesn’t know I’m calling, but I thought you should know, nonetheless. After all, you’re still trying to help her, right?”

He stopped in his tracks. His heart plummeted. “Erica? What happened?”

“Someone broke in her office this morning.”

“Was she robbed? Is she okay? What happened?” A million visions ran through his mind. Images of Jordan knocked over the head, stabbed, worse…dead?

“Nobody was hurt. Calm down. She’s okay.”

“What did he look like?”

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