this.
"You gotta work on your game with Reed. It
sucks. She's not going to ooh and aah over you just because you
drop ten grand on dinner and a show. She's not like those women who
know the score with you."
Jordon sat down on one of the wood and metal
benches that populated the patio and rubbed his hands over his
whiskers. The bench he chose just happened to be directly under
Reed's bedroom window. Jordon didn't seem to notice, Henry was too
pleased not to.
Henry looked at his friend and couldn't help
worrying. Jordon looked tired and more stressed now by William's
stupid dictate than he had been the day William gave it, two and a
half days ago. Sometimes Henry wanted to shoot William and put an
end to the man's never ending tests for good.
The only problem with that course of action
was William's track record. He always had a reason for what he did,
and, in Henry's experience, William turned out to be right every
damned time when all was said and done. Still, Henry would find a
way to off the old bastard if he wasn't sure that William loved
Jordon almost as much as he loved Jordon's widowed mother.
"What the hell am I going to do, Henry?"
Jordon asked, running both hands through his overly long hair. "I
really screwed the pooch this time."
"What do you want to do? Seems to me you've
got enough salted away to give William and B.H. a run for their
money. You could start your own investment firm. You don't need to
take over B.H. when William retires."
The look Jordon gave Henry made his heart
squeeze. "Yes, I do. The knowledge that I'd be running B.H. one day
is the only thing that kept me sane after Emily died."
Jordon's voice cracked when he said his
infant daughter's name. More than a decade and a half had passed
since Henry stood beside Jordon as the tiny casket was lowered into
the ground. The pain in Jordon didn't seem to lessen over time.
Henry knew Jordon channeled all the pain he felt into taking over
B.H., that in the beginning it was what kept him alive.
"There's more to it than that, Henry.
Emily's death fueled me for the first few years. Work was the only
thing that killed the pain, then. Now, it's more than that. I love
what I do. We keep people working, Henry. That means something to
me. That's my way of making a difference. Even if I took every
penny I have and started my own investment company tomorrow, I
wouldn't be where B.H. is today until I'm seventy, maybe
seventy-five. And only then if I'm very lucky."
Henry stared straight ahead, not saying
anything. Jordon didn't usually speak so plainly and Henry didn't
want to interrupt.
"With the market the way it is today, I
wouldn't have the backers to do the kind of work William's doing.
They'd go with B.H., it's a known, profitable commodity in good
times and in bad. There would be no reason to invest with me as
long as William continues to run B.H. effectively. I can do the
most good at B.H. William knows it. I know it. There is no
choice."
William wasn't just threatening to take away
Jordon's job, he was threatening Jordon's identity.
Henry saw a shadow move in Reed's room and
wondered just how long she'd been up there listening. The window
leading to her small balcony was wide open and the form he saw
through the curtains was definitely elf-size. Thank God for nosy
women, he thought, smiling. With a push or two in the right
direction there might be hope for Jordon's marriage, if the man
could control his emotions long enough to stop pushing Reed
away.
"Tell me about Reed. Why did you fly off so
fast and marry her?"
"You know why."
"No, I don't. You could have found someone
more willing to work with you. She doesn't even know yet just how
much you need her." Henry hoped he wasn't laying it on too thick,
but the clock was ticking and Jordon's usual ease with women had
completely deserted him.
"She doesn't know. I've been trying to
figure a way to tell her all morning."
"So why pick a fight over a shirt?"
"Damn it Henry. Lay off already. I know
"You gotta work on your game with Reed. It
sucks. She's not going to ooh and aah over you just because you
drop ten grand on dinner and a show. She's not like those women who
know the score with you."
Jordon sat down on one of the wood and metal
benches that populated the patio and rubbed his hands over his
whiskers. The bench he chose just happened to be directly under
Reed's bedroom window. Jordon didn't seem to notice, Henry was too
pleased not to.
Henry looked at his friend and couldn't help
worrying. Jordon looked tired and more stressed now by William's
stupid dictate than he had been the day William gave it, two and a
half days ago. Sometimes Henry wanted to shoot William and put an
end to the man's never ending tests for good.
The only problem with that course of action
was William's track record. He always had a reason for what he did,
and, in Henry's experience, William turned out to be right every
damned time when all was said and done. Still, Henry would find a
way to off the old bastard if he wasn't sure that William loved
Jordon almost as much as he loved Jordon's widowed mother.
"What the hell am I going to do, Henry?"
Jordon asked, running both hands through his overly long hair. "I
really screwed the pooch this time."
"What do you want to do? Seems to me you've
got enough salted away to give William and B.H. a run for their
money. You could start your own investment firm. You don't need to
take over B.H. when William retires."
The look Jordon gave Henry made his heart
squeeze. "Yes, I do. The knowledge that I'd be running B.H. one day
is the only thing that kept me sane after Emily died."
Jordon's voice cracked when he said his
infant daughter's name. More than a decade and a half had passed
since Henry stood beside Jordon as the tiny casket was lowered into
the ground. The pain in Jordon didn't seem to lessen over time.
Henry knew Jordon channeled all the pain he felt into taking over
B.H., that in the beginning it was what kept him alive.
"There's more to it than that, Henry.
Emily's death fueled me for the first few years. Work was the only
thing that killed the pain, then. Now, it's more than that. I love
what I do. We keep people working, Henry. That means something to
me. That's my way of making a difference. Even if I took every
penny I have and started my own investment company tomorrow, I
wouldn't be where B.H. is today until I'm seventy, maybe
seventy-five. And only then if I'm very lucky."
Henry stared straight ahead, not saying
anything. Jordon didn't usually speak so plainly and Henry didn't
want to interrupt.
"With the market the way it is today, I
wouldn't have the backers to do the kind of work William's doing.
They'd go with B.H., it's a known, profitable commodity in good
times and in bad. There would be no reason to invest with me as
long as William continues to run B.H. effectively. I can do the
most good at B.H. William knows it. I know it. There is no
choice."
William wasn't just threatening to take away
Jordon's job, he was threatening Jordon's identity.
Henry saw a shadow move in Reed's room and
wondered just how long she'd been up there listening. The window
leading to her small balcony was wide open and the form he saw
through the curtains was definitely elf-size. Thank God for nosy
women, he thought, smiling. With a push or two in the right
direction there might be hope for Jordon's marriage, if the man
could control his emotions long enough to stop pushing Reed
away.
"Tell me about Reed. Why did you fly off so
fast and marry her?"
"You know why."
"No, I don't. You could have found someone
more willing to work with you. She doesn't even know yet just how
much you need her." Henry hoped he wasn't laying it on too thick,
but the clock was ticking and Jordon's usual ease with women had
completely deserted him.
"She doesn't know. I've been trying to
figure a way to tell her all morning."
"So why pick a fight over a shirt?"
"Damn it Henry. Lay off already. I know
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