Sparring Partners (22 page)

Jordon was spoiling for a good fight.

...

Reed looked around the great room, in what
Lily affectionately called 'the cottage'. Considering the house she
lived in would fit in the garage, this was some cottage. And as far
as Reed could see, it housed only two: William and Lily
Bennett.

"Drink, dear?" Lily asked, pouring herself a
glass of white wine from the ornately painted wine chiller on the
largest side-board Reed had ever seen. Considering she once
attended the governor's ball, that was saying something. Of course,
these people hob-nobbed with the world's elite, what was a
governor's ball to them? She felt hopelessly out of her league.

Yet here she was. Worse than that, she was
the invader, demanding answers.

"No thank you. Any chance you've got any
sports drinks or almond milk?" Her tone sounded embarrassed, even
to her ears. What was she thinking, calling her mother-in-law,
demanding to know why Lily's billionaire son chose 'little-old-her'
to be his one and only? Sometimes she cursed her red hair and Irish
temper. Sometimes that was the only thing that got her through the
night. Damn it to hell and back.

Lily smiled, and her whole face radiated
warmth. Reed really wanted to hate this woman, but she was too nice
to hate. Reed hated that too.

"Of course, dear. I have five or six kinds
of performance drinks, stuffed full of electrolytes and B-vitamins.
I keep them on hand for Jordon. He's always training in that dojo
of his upstairs. I swear, the implements of torture he has up there
are enough to send a sane woman running."

Lily lifted part of the marble top of the
side-board, and sure enough, on ice, were no less than twenty-five
sports drinks in jumbo bottles, and at least five different
flavors. Reed peeked in. "I'll just grab a lime one, if you don't
mind."

She had it opened and half consumed before
Lily handed her a glass. Reed's cheeks flamed not only at the
proffered glass, but also because she didn't censor the loud
aah
sound she made when she finished. Reed eyed the glass
and slowly re-capped her drink. In her most lawyerly-precise voice
she said, "No thank-you, I prefer to drink from the bottle."

Lily laughed deep and low. Very seductive,
and heart-felt, for such a proper lady. "Me too, but I'd look like
a wino drinking Chardonnay from the bottle." Lily looked at her
oddly, grabbed the wine bottle out of its lovely cooler, and downed
a big swig of wine, before kicking off her golden strapped shoes
and shocking Reed even more by saying, "What the hell. Who cares.
I'm too old to worry about appearances at this stage. Besides, it's
just us right?"

Reed grinned from ear to ear, wondering just
what kind of woman Lily Bennett really was under all that pressed
silk and museum quality jewelry. Not that it mattered. She wasn't
going to know her all that long anyway, she might as well have a
good time with this version before the perfect Lily came back to
spoil their fun.

Reed held up her plastic bottle and clinked
with Lily. "Right."

"You've never had anything right from the
bottle in your life, have you?"

Lily took another swig looking decidedly
uncomfortable. "Not until now."

"It's killing you, isn't it."

"It is a little...daunting."

Reed grabbed the wine bottle from Lily with
her free hand and moved to the side-board where she filled the
glass Lily left there, and poured what was left of her sports drink
into one of the tall stemmed crystal glasses. The neon green looked
ridiculous in the elegant stem, but less ridiculous than Lily
trying to down a sip of wine from a bottle three-quarters full.

Reed handed her mother-in-law the glass and
held up her own. "Here's to less daunting ways to enjoy
ourselves."

Lily got a strange look in her eye, the same
look Jordon got whenever his brain made connections no one else on
the planet would make. Compelling in an odd 'watch the spider weave
her web' kind of way.

"Have you ever been to New York?"

Reed shook her head, no.

The smile on Lily's face was three parts
demonic, topped with a thin layer of angelic, to disguise what Reed
was coming to recognize as the Bennett trickster soul beneath.

"Let's go."

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Jordon looked everywhere Finn, Charlie,
Jesse, and even Shannon O'Shay, Reed's sparring buddy and all
around pain-in-the-ass, could think of, to find his wayward wife.
Reed was nowhere to be found. Even Henry, with his multitude of
contacts, couldn't find one red-headed-pissed-off-elf. Jordon's
stomach began to roll, he'd forgotten to eat since breakfast
yesterday and his head ached. Not his usual shooting pain, just a
low even throb that sounded dully in his ears and made his mouth
dry. Probably not the best day to give up coffee.

Something large wound itself around his leg
and rubbed his knee. The first time it happened, Jordon just about
jumped out of his skin, but that was yesterday, and a lot had
changed since then. Today, he simply bent down to pet the silky
hair, more like Mongolian cashmere, than fur.

"Hello, girl. Any clue where I can find your
mistress?"

The small meow he got in return made him
smile. Jordon bent down to pick up Loki, Reed's mythologically
large cat, in his arms. She curled into him after head-butting him
and licking his nose. Loki was Reed's polar opposite, great big
body, tiny little voice. Of course, each of them was pretty good at
cuddling when they wanted to, and silently pouncing on their prey
when they didn't.

Loki placed her front paws on each side of
his face, no claws just pads, and began to purr. The low sound
reverberated through his chest, calming Jordon. Wherever Reed was,
she was okay. He felt it in his bones. He scratched Loki's ears and
her paws settled back as she closed knowing green eyes.

"She doesn't usually let anyone but Reed
hold her."

Loki stirred at Finn's voice then settled
more deeply into the crook of Jordon's neck and shoulder, purring
even louder. Jordon was tired, achy, and although he'd been to the
dojo yesterday, he hadn't actually struck anyone or anything. He
was too drained, yet too amped, to spar with Finn this morning.

"It must not be a usual day." He said
neutrally.

"There haven't been any usual days since you
arrived." Finn said taking a step closer to him as she ran a hand
down Loki's back. Firmly in sleep mode, the cat didn't stir. Finn
let her hand fall to her side, but she didn't step away.

Jordon was having trouble reading her. Her
tone wasn't scathing like it had been when Reed walked through the
door two days ago on her way to weapons class. It wasn't worried
like it was last night when he'd overheard Finn telling Charlie
that Reed hadn't disappeared like this since she ran away from home
at fifteen. Today there was something like acceptance in Finn's
tone and body language that didn't compute with the fact that Reed
was still missing and he was still invading her home.

Seven days with an elf and his ability to
read people was as shot as his aversion to pets.

"Henry's still looking for her, Finn. I've
already authorized a full team. Henry is assembling them now. We'll
find her soon."

Finn's robin's-egg-blue eyes softened, and
the crease in her brow eased as she looked into his soul. Reed had
the same disconcerting way of probing him with just her eyes. Finn
opened her mouth to speak, but Henry cut her off.

"That won't be necessary." Henry said,
walking into the family room, jaw clenched more in irritation than
concern. He pushed a button on the remote control he was white
knuckling and the T.V. flared to life. Henry flipped to the
entertainment channel.

"...and in our final story, Mega-billionaire
and philanthropist, William Bennett, made his way back to Milwaukee
today after an unusual round of shopping with his sister-in-law and
the newest member of the Bennett family, thirty-nine year old Reed
Mohr-Bennett. The threesome was seen dining at the exclusive..."
Henry flipped the T.V. off.

Jordon's shoulders clenched like girded
steel, causing Loki to grumble and jump all the way to the floor
with a resounding thump. The air in the room thickened as seconds
ticked away in silence.

"Well," Finn said more sardonic than
surprised, "they got that all wrong." The sardonic tone deepened.
"Reed's thirty-seven, almost thirty-eight. But not quite
thirty-nine."

Jordon left the room without a word.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

"You hit Bob any harder and I'm going to
have to replace the concrete under the wood flooring."

Jordon didn't hear Sensei Schwartz approach.
But then again, he couldn't hear much with the three hundred pounds
of water trapped in high grade plastic beneath Bob's rubberized
flesh toned torso slamming into the floor with each half foot
Jordon was able to move the humanized punching bag with his fists
and feet. Jordon stopped pounding the hell out of the fake man long
enough to drag a deep breath of testosterone spiced air into his
lungs while bowing to Sensei at the same time. The effort
accomplished what forty minutes of pounding on Bob had not. It made
him light-headed.

Jordon swayed.

Sensei hit him. Not too hard. Just enough to
let him know the master was present.

Just in case he missed the message, Sensei
hit him again. Just a quick 'stick-and-stab'.

"Come on hard-ass. Get your pads." Sensei
said, dancing around him like a boxer one quarter of his age. How
the man moved like he did was a mystery Jordon would pay millions
to find out, bottle, and sell by the ounce.

Jordon had him by twenty years and forty
pounds of muscle mass, not to mention five inches in height and
four in reach. He should, by all physical barometers, feel
superior. Instead, Jordon felt out of breath, out of his mind, and
out of ideas on how to make it through putting on his head gear
without his world exploding.

"Yes, Sensei." Jordon said, bowing out to
grab his gear.

Sparring with your Sensei was more than an
honor.

It was a blessing.

And a curse.

...

After more than thirty minutes with Sensei
bouncing 'flick-a-fly' punches off his head gear, Jordon couldn't
take it anymore. He was out manned, out gunned, and all around out
done.

Jordon held up his right fist, still
ensconced behind an inch and a half of foam, and tried to speak
around his mouth guard. Not one of his better moments.

"Ma te`, Sensei." Ma te` meant stop, but
Sensei kept flicking imaginary flies from Jordon's head-gear for
another second, more than enough for twenty flies. That only added
to Jordon's feelings of inadequacy. A sixty year old man had just
kicked his ass. No contest. Armani suits and owning a fleet of jets
didn't matter on the dojo floor. It was one thing Jordon truly
loved about belonging to a dojo.

Sensei threw off his sparring gear, letting
it fall where it lay. Seeing him full of sweat and breathing deeply
almost made Jordon feel better. Almost.

"Tell me what ails you kohai."

Sensei's use of the word kohai, a term of
respect reserved for 'little brothers', threw Jordon for a second.
It meant their relationship was more personal, more giving, than
one solely between teacher and student.

Jordon managed to get out of his head gear
so he could speak more than two slurred words at a time, the
problem was, he couldn't come up with more than two to string
together to formulate an intelligible answer. The fact was, he
couldn't pinpoint exactly what had him more frustrated than a bull
penned up next to the object of his desire during a dry 'hundred
and five' in the July Wyoming shade. What came out of his mouth
shocked Jordon more than it did Sensei.

"I think I'm in love with my wife."

Sensei chuckled, shaking his head. "Loving
your spouse is like being thirsty. You either are or you're not.
Thinking doesn't come into it."

"Yeah, well it ought to." Jordon tossed off
his foot pads, angry and puzzled that those were the words his
brain chose to spill out. Puzzled won out over anger, which never
served Jordon well at any time in his life. In for a penny, in for
a pound, as William so often philosophized. Jordon never really got
that saying on a gut level, until right this minute.

"She hates me, Sensei. At least she does
now. She seemed to like me well enough before."

"On any given day that could be said of any
man and his wife." Sensei's expression and tone were neutral
enough, but his eyes narrowed slightly as he continued. "What
changed to make Reed dislike you?"

Jordon guessed Sensei's avoidance of the
word 'hate' was intentional. He appreciated the effort. "She found
out who I really am."

Sensei's eyes widened. "Who are you
really?"

Jordon kicked his gear away. "You mean
besides the asshole who moved into her home, lied to her by
omission, and turned her whole life upside down in the
process?"

"Besides that."

"I'm second in command of the world's most
profitable investment company. I'm a billionaire who figures out
how to make other people very, very rich. That's what I do. That's
all I do...all I've cared about doing since I turned eighteen."

"Seems to me you're confusing what you do
with who you are." Sensei said, picking up his gear. "Reed can tell
the difference, even if you can't. She's a smart kid."

Jordon assumed that meant he had some
learning to do to catch up with his wife. That would be a hell of a
lot easier if she'd come home. Sensei must have sensed his
frustration because he laughed deeply and slapped Jordon on the
back.