Page 19 of Jordan

My son wanted me to go legit. He wanted everything I did to be above board. I’d lived this life for too long and was tired, but to give it up? Another would take my place if I did that. They’d want my empire for themselves, and I couldn’t let that happen. I’d built what I had from the ground up, and I’d be damned if anyone took it from me.

A vibration in my hand pulled my eyes off the buildings we passed by.

Unknown: Mr. Altair, this is Hartley Weathers. One of the suits is ready for the first fitting. I’m happy to accommodate your schedule. Please let me know when you’re free.

A smile—a true smile—formed on my lips.

Well, this day was looking up. Not only did I rid the world of a piece of shit human, but I had an appointment to make with a handsome designer.

9

HARTLEY

A person could only straighten up a space so many times, especially when that space was sparse to begin with. There were belongings I’d taken with me when I left the other rental, things I’d bought. I’d also been selling them off little by little to have more money in my pocket. If it wasn’t a necessity to do my job, I could part with it.

With the money Jordan gave me, I could make a sizable dent in what was owed. Every penny I paid was a step closer to having my grandfather’s debt taken care of, including paying off his house. Then I would focus on the house itself. I had dreams of using it as a vacation home one day. On a sound in coastal North Carolina, it had beautiful views. It was a shame how much the house had suffered when he couldn’t afford the repairs. But I was determined to make it better once the debt was paid.

The life I wanted was in front of me. If only I could reach it. Today wasn’t the day, although it would be eventually. I kept my goal in mind every time I worked. It kept driving me forward when I wanted to cry from not knowing how I could do it all.

I was a firm believer in everything happening for a reason. That didn’t mean I had to love the shitty hand I’d been dealt.

My dad passed away from cancer when I was six. My mom died of an overdose when I was eight. When my dad died, she couldn’t handle the grief, so she turned to a bottle. She started by drinking, then went on to drugs. It was why my brother’s drinking was concerning to me. After our parents were gone, we moved in with our grandfather. He wasn’t perfect, no one was, but he loved us with everything in him. My brother though, he wasn’t the most reliable. Leaving for days at a time, showing up when he wanted to. Now he lived at the bottom of a bottle, reminiscent of the memories I had from childhood.

Shaking my head, I let out a breath. “I can’t fix everything,” I muttered.

Since the last time Jordan was here, I’d added two comfortable, yet stylish, ivory chairs with a small table between them I’d purchased on a steep discount. This way, if Jordan wanted to sit or if we wanted to have a discussion, I didn’t need to drag two folding chairs from the closet like I was getting ready for a yard sale.

What was I thinking? Jordan wasn’t going to stay here long. He’d try on the suit so I could make adjustments, then he’d be on his way. There was no reason for him to linger. The color choices and cut had already been approved.

I needed to get my shit together and stop thinking about a man who wasn’t even close to attainable. Not only that, why would I want to crawl into bed with a criminal? That couldn’t lead anywhere good. Except for the orgasm he was sure to give me.

A knock on the door drew me from my thoughts, a welcome relief. I had to focus on work.

On the other side of the door was Jordan in a sharp navy pinstripe suit. The stripes were white and subtle, not bold lines drawing too much attention. But the fit was off a tad.

“Are you scrutinizing me, Hartley?”

My eyes snapped to his. “What?”

“You see something in my suit, do you not?”

“It could fit you better.”

“That it could. The designer who made this isn’t around any longer. I wanted to see if you noticed how it formed to my body.”

Oh… oh, he was doing this on purpose. “Well, it could certainly complement you better.”

His lips twitched. For a second, I thought he might smile. Maybe that was all the smile he usually gave someone.

One of his twin bodyguards stepped forward, nodding at the door. “May we?”

“Of course.” I stepped out of the way so they could enter. I noted two more outside on the sidewalk. Not twins like the others, but no less imposing.

Jordan stood on the top step as if he didn’t have a care in the world, while his men swept my place. When he was here, in this half of the city, I wondered if he worried about his well-being. Other places, I was certain he did. This was his domain though.

Maybe I read about him more than I already had before I met him. My browser certainly got a workout from all the photos I’d scrolled through of Jordan. He was most prominent for his businesses and the money he donated. Then again, they weren’t going to publish articles about him with a bag of drugs and a cache of guns behind him. In fact, I didn’t see one story where he was convicted of a crime. There was plenty of speculating, even some with supposed inside sources, but nothing concrete. If they had evidence, he would have been in prison.

“All good,” one of the twins said when he exited. The other stopped just inside the door.

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