Page 13 of Cupcake of the Month (Just Add Peaches #2)

With that taken care of, she stood in front of her closet and flipped through her clothes.

Meeting with a congresswoman called for more style than her khakis and pink blouse.

She spent time putting together an outfit, then redid her hair into a classic bun and put her glasses back on to study the results.

She’d do. Her grey pants were crisp and the blue patterned top said professional woman who could navigate the rules.

Anthon was still busy in the kitchen when she walked in, mixing bowls of crème and chocolate. The non-descript orange bottle from Belle’s Medicinal Brewery sat on the counter, its strong peach whiskey scent permeating the room. He scowled when she walked in. “This is not a playroom.”

Oy , he’d been at the Hall for a couple of months and still hadn’t embraced Grandma Maybelle and Ms. Eulalee’s philosophy that the kitchen was the center of the home. But not her problem – at least, not until Brandi and Wendy asked for her talent organization skill to set him straight.

“Not a playroom. Thank you, Chef.” She grabbed the van keys and the bags of leftovers on her way out.

After she dropped off the food, she circled back to the highway and drove north. Why was Mrs. McGraw even getting involved in Jordan’s business? She had no right to put herself in the middle of this debacle. There was no reason for her to even care.

Jordan tapped her fingers against the steering wheel to calm her rampaging nerves. The meeting probably had nothing to do with the lawsuit. Why would it?

Mrs. McGraw’s office was in a brick building that also housed an insurance office and a tech company, along with a few other businesses.

The parking lot was nearly full, but Jordan scoped out a spot on the far side and in the shade – a bonus.

After she climbed the wide staircase and entered the building, the security officer checked her ID and issued her a visitor sticker.

“Go right up,” she said. “Mrs. McGraw is expecting you.”

“Thank you.” Jordan’s heart beat too loudly in her chest. The congresswoman’s offices were on the third floor and Jordan took the stairs to prolong the inevitable showdown. The possible showdown. She pushed her glasses into place, ignoring the feeling of impending doom.

She let out a slow breath before pushing open the door of Mrs. McGraw’s office. She was about to give her name to the receptionist when a man emerged from the hallway. “Jordan. It’s good to see you again.”

It took Jordan a moment to recognize the man in the tailored black suit. She had been accustomed to seeing him in the grey of his baseball uniform or in a plain white t-shirt at the gym. “Luke McGraw, all dressed up.”

He pretended to tighten the knot in his red tie.

She grinned, but her stomach wouldn’t let her relax. “So why am I here?”

He laughed. “Still getting right to the point. She’ll be another minute. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Juice?”

Anything she drank would curdle in her churning stomach. “Nothing, thanks.”

He brought her to the chairs in the reception area and they did the catching up thing. Luke pulled out photos of his wife and described his excitement about becoming a dad. Jordan would have shown him a picture of her dog, only she didn’t have one. A picture or a dog.

Muted footsteps sounded down the carpeted hall, and Jordan followed Luke’s lead when he stood up. Erica McGraw approached and extended her hand. “I’m so glad you could make it, Jordan. Come on in to my office.”

“It was great seeing you.” Luke waved and disappeared down the hall.

Mrs. McGraw’s office was decorated with the standard pictures of the president of the United States, the governor of Georgia, and of her own family.

A large American flag stood proudly in the corner next to the state flag.

Smaller ones graced the corner of her ornate wooden desk.

A stack of manila folders and loose papers sat next to a large calendar.

“Have a seat.” The congresswoman waved her hand at a chair in front of her desk and slid into the one behind it.

Jordan perched on the edge of her seat, as tense as if a baserunner planned to steal second under her watch.

“I did a bit of research on you.” Mrs. McGraw tapped a pencil against her hand. “Seems like you got yourself some legal issues.”

So she was cutting right to the heart of the matter. Good. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Is that why you’re in Georgia? I saw videos of the press hounding you back in Connecticut.”

More like until Larry Weinschenk told her it was okay to come back home and she could defend herself head on. “Yes.”

“If it’s any consolation, I think the employees would be better off suing the owner of the company. If he didn’t want to make his company a better place to work, he shouldn’t have hired you. Firing half the work force had to have been bad for morale.”

A low buzzing echoed in Jordan’s ears. Her lawyer had said as much. “Yes, ma’am, but it’s not much of a consolation. Word of mouth and satisfied clients are necessary for me to do what I do. And my name has been in the news. A lot.”

“Oh, Lord, if I had to worry every time my name was in the news in an unflattering light...” She waved a hand in dismissal.

“You wouldn’t be so interesting to the media if your parents weren’t so prominent in society and if your twin brothers hadn’t made a killing in the tech market. The famous Shoenover family.”

“Of the West Hartford Shoenovers.” Jordan allowed herself a small smile. Her drive and determination had come from the lessons of love, hard work, and giving a hand up her family had taught her.

“I see the questions in your eyes that you’re too polite to voice.

” Mrs. McGraw leaned back in her chair. “Jordan, I want to hire you. I was curious about you after the fundraiser, so I went on your web page, read the testimonials. And the more I saw about your work, the more I think you can help me.” She put down her pencil.

“All the companies that hired you loved what you did after you worked your strategic magic. Employee retention and morale are at an all-time high. Plus they’re getting a higher quality of applicants for job openings. ”

A spark of the happiness Jordan had always carried about her job flickered in her body, but she tamped it down. “Mrs. McGraw, I’m a little confused. Do you need help filling staff positions?”

“Not for my staff, Jordan. My constituents.”

“Pardon me?” She should have said yes to that drink – a stiff drink.

“They’re my people. I want to make sure I’m serving them well.

” Mrs. McGraw leaned forward, her hands folded together.

“I could hire an expert polling company to see how they feel, or send out a survey in a mass mailing, but they’re too removed.

I need a face to put with the boots on the ground. That’s you.” Mrs. McGraw stood up.

“Ma’am, I get hired for strategic planning and talent management.” Jordan stood with her. “To see how a company can go from point A to point B with the people they have or to fill in missing skills. I’m not a politician.”

“So much the better. I’ll be honest, some of it has to do with your name.

Anyone who followed Georgia athletics will know who you are, even though you graduated a while ago.

You were in the news almost every day during the softball season.

That makes you immediately recognizable.

All the upper management I talked to said you uncovered issues in their companies they had no idea existed.

Employees said they trusted you were on their side. ” Mrs. McGraw gave her a smile.

“I’m not planning on staying in Georgia once the lawsuit is resolved.”

“That’s okay. You can get us started. Take what you already know and adapting it to fit a wide range of people instead of ones who share a common goal for a company. I know you can do this, Jordan.”

Unlike the social director position at the Inn, this job was a good use of her abilities, but it was too much in the public eye. There was no way. She was being sued. Jordan started to shake her head, but Mrs. McGraw raised her hand.

“Don’t answer now. Think about it.”

Oy , fine. Jordan could turn her down just as easily tomorrow as she could today. She held out her hand. “I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you.” Mrs. McGraw took it and gave Jordan a grin. “Have you thought about it?”

Jordan opened her mouth and the congresswoman waved her hand. “I know. Too pushy. But I do hope to hear from you soon.”

“Yes, ma’am. So even though I plan on returning to Connecticut once the lawsuit is over, you still want me to work for you?”

“You can get the ball rolling. I’m not sure how this will work anyway, so we can both experiment with it.” Mrs. McGraw opened the door to her office and escorted Jordan down the hallway to the reception area. She picked her business card off the desk and handed it to Jordan. “Call me any time.”

Jordan left the office feeling like she’d been knocked to the ground by a baserunner, her mind taking its sweet time to comprehend what had happened.

She slid into the Fountenoy Hall van and let out a slow breath.

Admittedly, transitioning from strategic planning to what the congresswoman envisioned could be done.

A buzz of excitement filtered through her, but it was quickly tamped by doubt.

It was ridiculous. She had years of brilliant work behind her, testimonials by CEOs and business owners on how she improved their companies. Why was she going to let a misguided group of people keep her from her living?

Guilt. Uncertainty. She’d striven to be the best at that she did, and the lawsuit had shaken her confidence. Maybe this would help her get it back.

***

“So, tell me again why you didn’t let us play softball?” Jordan asked Wendy from the back of Rob’s car later that evening. Wendy sat in the front next to him. “I was happily anticipating making you guys run. Can’t do that in a skirt and heels.”

“And why we couldn’t eat dinner,” Rob said.