Page 97 of Astrid Parker Doesn't Fail

“She’s not. I don’t want—”

“Jordan, all I see is a woman who put her heart and soul into something and is content to give it away. Maybe ask yourself why.”

Jordan opened her mouth. Closed it. She wasn’t giving it away. She had what she wanted. The Everwood taking shape like it should, a chance to save her family’s business. She’d just make a mess of the spotlight. She worked best behind the scenes. Astrid was the front woman. Hadn’t there been a million partnerships throughout the creative world that were just that? And she and Astridwerepartners in all of this.

But now... she wanted so much more than a true design for the Everwood.

She wanted Astrid too.

“I need to go,” she said, getting to her feet. The room spun for a second, but righted itself soon enough. Meredith got up too, a steadying hand on her arm.

Jordan pulled away.

“Wait,” Meredith said. “At least let me take you to dinner.”

Jordan shook her head. She needed to see Astrid, and she needed to see her now. “I can’t.”

She grabbed her phone off the counter and headed for the back door. Bag. She needed her bag. License. Keys to Adora. They were all in her workshop.

“At least tell me you’ve come to your senses,” Meredith said.

Jordan froze in the doorway.

“Jo—Jordan. I care about you. You deserve—”

“You have no fucking right to talk about what I deserve,” Jordan said. She didn’t turn around to look at her ex-wife. She didn’t wait for her response. She just pushed open the screen door, texted Simon to get Meredith the hell off their property as she hurried across the yard and into her workshop, and then peeled out of the driveway as fast as Adora would take her.

Chapter Twenty-seven

RELIEF.

That’s the only way Jordan could describe the expression on Astrid’s face when she opened her door thirty minutes later to find Jordan standing on her front porch.

What’s more, Jordan sort of... melted at the sight of her. Her shoulders—which had been tense for her entire drive over—loosened, and a loud exhale swooshed from her lungs.

“Hey,” Astrid said, and she said it so softly, so sweetly—no trace of that prim coldness from before—that Jordan felt her chin start to wobble. Astrid noticed. Of course she did. She reached out her hand and pulled Jordan inside and into her arms, hands sliding around her neck and into her hair. Jordan slumped against her. She’d thought she was tired before, but now, all her Meredith-stress releasing, she felt like a balloon just relieved of all its air.

She let her own arms circle Astrid’s waist. Astrid was a little taller than she was, so she could rest her chin right on Astrid’s shoulder. Jordan squeezed her eyes closed and relaxed them, trying to figure out what to say about... well, everything.

“I’m sorry” was the first thing out of her mouth.

Astrid pulled back, a frown creasing her straight brows. “For what?”

Jordan shook her head. “For just letting you walk out earlier. I wanted you to stay, I just didn’t—”

“Hey,” Astrid said, moving her hands to cup Jordan’s face. “It’s fine. We were both a bit shocked.”

Jordan let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah.”

“Are you okay?”

Jordan nodded, but even as she did so, tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t stop them—it was like every emotion she’d felt lately about the inn, about Astrid, about Meredith, finally spilled over.

“Oh,” Astrid said, looking alarmed.

For a split second, everything in Jordan froze. She looked away, shuddering breaths rattling her chest. This was one of those moments in a new relationship—discovering how someone handled it when you completely lost your shit. Jordan already knew Astrid was a complicated woman—raised like an heir to a throne, buttoned up to within an inch of her life. And now, with Meredith’s theory about Astrid floating through her brain, Jordan really needed Astrid to—

“Come here,” Astrid said softly. She tangled her fingers with Jordan’s and led her to the giant white sectional in her very white living room. She sat them down, still holding her hand, one leg propped up on the cushion like a true bisexual. Jordan almost laughed and made a comment about it, but then Astrid leaned into Jordan, thumb moving against her palm in slow, calming circles.