Dara Girard - Sparks

A female voice came on the line. “Hey, baby. Guess what I plan to do to you tonight.”

Jordan grabbed the phone and sent Marlene a smile. She pretended not to notice as she put the packet in his in-box. She left and closed the door.

“I’m at work, Gail,” he warned in a low voice.

“So? You didn’t mind my messages before.”

“I wasn’t in this position before.”

He glanced around the large office both proud and scared of his new responsibility. Only three weeks ago he was snorkeling in Barbados until his father decided to semiretire, because of a diagnosed heart condition, and made him head of the Institute.

“What should I wear tonight?”

Jordan put a big question mark against Ajani Consulting. “What’s happening tonight?”

Her tone sharpened. “Nothing if you keep up that attitude.”

“Gail, I have a lot on my mind. What are you talking about?”

“I’ve decided that we should make up. I know you’re under a lot of pressure and need space so I think—”

“Gail. I like you. You deserve better. Honey, you know you do. Any time you want to talk, you know how to reach me.”

“Somehow this still feels like you’re dumping me.”

“No. Remember you’re dumping me, your absentminded, single-focused boyfriend.”

She hesitated. “But you’re so sincere and sweet.”

“I’m not sweet and you think I’m heartless, remember?”

She sighed. “That’s what I tell myself, but I know better. I wish I could hate you.”

“I could come up with a reason if you give me a chance.”

Gail sighed again, this time resigned. “Bye, Jordan.”

“Bye, honey.” He absently replaced the receiver and placed another question mark on the paper next to Ajani Consulting. The owner really sounded ditzy. Perhaps he should cancel.

Someone knocked on the door. Jordan glanced up. “Come in.”

His half brother Ray entered the room with a sense of entitlement Jordan was trying to achieve. Ray had been with the company since his midteens. “Have you looked at the document Revis Technologies sent?”

Jordan glanced at the package. “No, not yet.”

Ray lifted the packet Marlene had placed in the in-box. “Here it is.”

“Marlene just put it there.”

Ray tucked it under his arm and turned to the door. “I’ll take care of it.”

“No, you won’t.”

Ray spun around and laughed as though Jordan had made a joke. “Trust me. I’ll take care of it. I doubt you’d understand it.”

Jordan held out his hand. “Here’s a news flash. I know how to read.”

“But there’s nothing in here about water temperature.”

“Put it back, Ray.”

“You don’t belong here, Jordan. No matter how much you try to play the game. You’ve never belonged because—” He stopped.

“Because I’m the bastard and you’re not? Yeah. I can be a bastard in more ways than one so I suggest you put that package back and go on your lunch break.”

Ray tossed the file down, causing papers to fall to the ground, then left.

Jordan watched the door close then sighed and picked up the fallen papers. He’d make this company work. He’d show them that he didn’t take the Taylor name for granted.

His intercom buzzed and Marlene’s voice came on the line. “Uh, Mr. Taylor. There’s someone on the line who says she has to speak to you.”

“Who?”

“She says her name is Maxine.”

His gut clenched. What the hell would she want with him? “Tell her I’m not here.” He pressed the button and leaned back for a moment wishing that were true.

“Jordan Taylor. That sounds like a nice name,” Simone said, looking at the information on her desk. Jordan had sent them an outline of his ideas to see if Dawn could come up with something for their meeting.

Dawn tapped her desk with impatience and sent her assistant a cool look. “That’s not why I plan to work with him.”

Simone set the paper down. “Are you sure you can do this? It’s a big job. You’ve never dealt with this kind of assignment before.”

Dawn glanced around her office at her particle board furniture and stained brown carpet. She would do anything to rebuild her life and get herself out of this place. “Am I sure that I can make The Medical Institute a viable entity? Of course. I have no doubt that I can make The Medical Institute number one in the state. I can make it a place where people in the medical profession go to first when they want to recruit medical and dental assistants and secretaries.”

“Remember it’s his institute not yours,” Simone said with caution.

“It will be our institute, eventually. A joint effort. I plan to make it very clear that it will be in his best interest to follow my suggestions.”

“How?”

Dawn smiled faintly. “As long as you make a man believe something is his idea, he will go along with it.”

“I’m not questioning your skill,” Simone said quickly, knowing how determined her boss and friend was. “I just think, perhaps…sometimes you tend to overwhelm people.”

Dawn raised her eyebrows. “Have there been complaints?”

“No, just…” She waved her hands, trying to grasp the right explanation. “People want to feel that their ideas are being acknowledged. I know that you’re good at what you do and you always get results, but you also need to let others be good at what they do.”

“They’re obviously not very good at what they do, if they have to come to me.”

“They want a consultation, not an overhaul. At times your ideas are very grandiose and that makes some people nervous. Perhaps you could start small and then build from there.”

Dawn abruptly stopped tapping the desk. “I don’t have the patience to start small. Especially when given the opportunity to do otherwise.”

Simone nodded, but Dawn knew her friend would never understand her drive. Right now she was struggling, but she knew she would eventually prosper, and when she was strong enough, she’d crush the Layton Group.

“Basing a business on revenge is not a good idea.”

Dawn’s dark eyes focused on Simone. “What do you mean?”

Simone touched the information sheet. “This is about Brandon, isn’t it? Everything you do is.”

She stood, suddenly feeling restless. “No. This is about business. Besides I’m glad he’s gone. He was a dreadful business partner. I know he has to resist lifting his leg every time he passes a fire hydrant.”

“Careful. You’re beginning to sound bitter.”

She went to the window and glanced down at the parking lot. “I might as well get it out of my system. I need the skill and patience to handle Mr. Taylor properly.”

“I doubt Mr. Taylor would like to be ‘handled.’”

Dawn turned to her and leaned against the windowsill. “I’ve learned a lot about men over the years. They usually don’t know what they want until you tell them. Well, in the case of Jordan Taylor, I’ll tell him what he wants then help him get it.”

“So who’s next?” David Watkins asked Jordan as they sat in an upscale eatery finishing a hearty breakfast. They were both large men with appetites to match. The plates between them threatened to cause an avalanche that neither noticed. David leaned over his plate as he cut his omelet, his brown dreadlocks falling forward.

Jordan glanced at his friend, wishing he could convince him to tie his hair back. He dashed hot pepper on his poached eggs instead. “Next for what?”

“In line. Since you and Gail broke up I’m sure there’s someone new.” He glanced at his watch.

“Naturally, I’m not surprised.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s April. Gail reached her four-month mark. Her sell-by date had expired.”