Page 18 of Cupcake of the Month (Just Add Peaches #2)

Jordan stood on the concrete walkway outside Fountenoy Hall’s rec room two days later, phone in hand, two mitts wedged under her arm, and a bat and bucket of balls at her feet.

They had been wedged behind the peach pickers and tubs tucked away for the season.

It was the first time in a couple of days that all of them had a night free.

For some women, a girls’ night meant pedicures and bar hopping.

Jordan and her friends added batting practice to the list of accepted activities.

The September heat had lessened now that the sun had dipped in the sky.

She shielded her eyes and scanned its position over the tops of the peach trees in the orchard.

They had maybe two hours, tops, before it sank and plunged them into darkness.

Now that the equipment was ready, she texted Josh.

You looked hot today. Jordan let out a giggle. They’d been texting the past couple of nights, snippets of conversation and flirting and fun. Since he was never alone or extremely busy when he was at Fountenoy Hall, conversations beyond a simple greeting had involved a phone.

Yeah?

Since you were cooking so much.

She grinned at the length of time it took him to create a witty rejoinder as she reveled in the sense of contentment. At least for now, she was able to accept what was in front of her.

Ha ha. Another pause, and then What are you doing tonight?

She exhaled slowly. Taking your advice and telling B and W the full truth.

I’m glad. Let me know how it goes. Tomorrow, because I have to finish things up here and get ready for bed. My boss makes me be at work at an ungodly hour.

His timing was spot on. Voices came from the side of the building.

Good night, then.

Good night.

She ran her fingers over his words, aware of the dopey tilt of her mouth. The kiss they shared two mornings ago had felt so right. In her heart. Her head, however, liked to relive the doubt and uncertainty of Josh’s refusal to tell her why he had left.

Having fun was the new addition to her vocabulary. Getting serious with someone when there were doubts was a sure way to get hurt. She was diving in with her eyes and mind clear.

Jordan’s stomach gave a lurch as Rob came around the corner with Wendy and Brandi.

She liked the guy and all, and Wendy would probably fill him in on the gist of it later, but this was supposed to be time with her besties.

It had always been her, Brandi, Wendy, and Sebastien in college.

Even though Sebastien was now attending to his royal duties in the small principality ruled by his father, that didn’t mean Rob could take his place.

She didn’t want to bare her soul in front of someone she’d known only for a few months.

He held the recognizable orange bottle of Belle’s Medicinal peach whiskey. Wendy carried four mason jars on a tray, the choice of tumbler an homage to Belle’s Prohibition past. Her mitt was tucked under her arm.

Brandi waved a tablet at Jordan, and Sebastien’s face smiled at her from the display. He waved and blew her a kiss.

“Hey, you!” She took the device from Brandi. “It’s good to see you. What’s going on? Where are you?”

“At home in my old, drafty castle,” he said.

“Geez, isn’t it late for you?”

“Nearing eleven. We have visiting dignitaries here so I can’t stay away for long.” He leaned away from his phone. “I’ve missed my favorite threesome.”

“We’ve missed you, too.” While having Sebastien there in person would have been better, seeing him on the phone was a close second.

Brandi picked up a bat from near Jordan’s feet and flipped it in a circle.

“I love when our guests want to share their days, but I swear, the Lingards take more pictures than Annie Leibovitz. They act like I’ve never seen hand-made quilts before.

I mean, geez, Grandma used to take us to that festival all the time. ”

“Really? I thought the one with the rainbows was fascinating,” Rob said. “The intricate patterns, the way it traced the family history. You don’t find it interesting?”

“All someone has to do is say ‘history’ and you’d be enamored with a macaroni sculpture.” Wendy held out the tray so he could pour. “After the seventeenth picture, it gets old.”

Jordan cast a surreptitious glance at Wendy’s left hand to see if an engagement was the cause of the impromptu celebration, but it was difficult to see beneath the tray. “So why are we getting drunk before batting practice?”

“Oh, we’re drinking? Isn’t it too early for the drink hour?” Sebastien asked. Brandi took the tablet from Jordan and positioned it near her shoulder so Sebastien could be part of the circle.

“This is an addendum to. We need to celebrate!” Wendy said.

Sebastien’s display became a view of his ornate ceiling with a massive chandelier before switching back to him. He held up a glass. “My last bottle of your medicinal brew.”

“You’ll have to come back and get more.” Brandi turned to her cousin. “What are we celebrating?”

Jordan had been wondering the same thing.

“Rob has news.” Wendy nudged him with her shoulder. “Tell them.”

He grinned down at her and stroked her hair.

“What is it?” Jordan took one of the mason jars.

“My agent called. She’d been gushing about my book to editors at a couple of the major publishing houses.” His voice was calm, but a huge smile graced his face. “The editors are both interested in buying the rights. It looks like I’m selling my book.”

“This is great!” Brandi brought her jar to his, making a dull clank. “It is great, right?”

“It’s definitely great.” Wendy leaned into him. “I’m so proud of you.”

“ Mazel tov !” Jordan clanked their jars as well. Her small sip of whiskey burned a path down her throat. She didn’t usually drink unless it was nicely watered down with ice, but she’d make an exception here.

“Congratulations,” Sebastien said.

“Now we get to discuss the offers and see which one I want to go with. I couldn’t have done any of this without all of you.” Rob raised his glass in Sebastien’s direction. “Even you.”

“You better believe it,” Sebastien said.

“Rob, this is great.” Jordan meant it, even as a smidge of jealousy snuck its way into her mind and made itself at home. She was the one that was supposed to have her life together, and look at the situation she was in. “Really great.”

Rob kissed Wendy’s forehead. “Bringing the story of our ancestors to life was more than just writing a book for me.”

“For me, too,” she said.

They took a few moments to finish their drinks. Rob held out the tray and they put their jars down.

“Okay,” Wendy said. “Let’s get this girls’ night started.”

Rob embraced her. A muffled, “I love you,” slid its way into Jordan’s hearing before he went up the path to the Inn.

She put her glove on her hand and smacked it with her fist. “Let’s play.”

“Rob and Wendy, sitting in a tree,” Brandi sang. “Doing more than K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

“Oh, stop,” Wendy said, but not before red crept up her cheeks.

“Oh, my,” Jordan breathed. “You’re blushing.”

“She’s blushing? And I can’t see it?” Sebastien asked.

Brandi shoved her tablet in Wendy’s face.

“Yup, that’s definitely a blush.”

Wendy covered her cheeks with her palms, her mitt taking over her face. “I am not. I’m too old to blush.”

“When was the last time you saw her turn as red as our ballcaps?” Jordan asked Brandi.

“I think it was the last day of never.” Brandi slapped her knees. “Hot damn. Thinking of the man makes you blush. What did he do to make that happen, hmmmm?”

“Can we talk about something else, please?” the usually unflappable Wendy asked. “Let’s play ball.”

“Oh, fine, Cheeks McBlushington.” Jordan decided to give her a break. She might need one herself, later.

Sebastien’s gaze left the tablet’s camera for a moment. “I have to go, too. I’ll try to come visit soon.”

“Bye, Prince Charming,” Jordan said. Brandi blew a kiss, and Wendy waved from over her cousin’s shoulder before Brandi closed the cover.

Jordan picked up the bucket of balls, and the women strolled past the rec room on their way to the peach orchard.

“I love you guys,” she said. From the softball field in college to potential bankruptcy, from a blue-eyed and dark-haired former lover to the same blue-eyed, dark-haired almost-current affair, from the comfort of having a drink to a leap off a cliff into the unknown, she could face anything with her friends at her back.

“You can’t be that drunk,” Brandi said. “You barely had one finger of whiskey.”

Jordan laughed. “No, I mean, really.”

The women did their ritualistic handshake from the days when they played college ball, tapping fingers and elbows and ending in a high five.

Soft breezes shook the branches of the peach trees, bringing down a cascade of leaves.

Jordan stood behind the makeshift home plate and crouched behind Brandi, who was ready to hit.

Wendy selected a ball from the bucket at her feet and assumed her pitcher’s stance.

She brought her glove and ball together, then whipped the perfect pitch right to Jordan.

Girls’ night had begun.

“So. You know I’m being sued. This is why.

” Jordan tossed the ball back to Wendy and let out a deep breath.

“I gather information from interviewing employees, like if they enjoyed their job and trust the management, if they felt their skills were being utilized, what they thought of the corporate culture – things like that.”

“Like you did with us over the summer,” Brandi said. “To help us manage the Hall.”

“Right. Their answers were confidential, and I gave the owner an overall view of the information. The jerk tried to guess who had made negative comments, and then fired them. I think he already had it planned when he hired me. There’s no way he could have gotten it from my information.

It’s an analysis of the data trends with no identifying information. It can’t be traced.”

Wendy pitched a ball and Brandi swung. The ball hit Jordan’s glove with some punch still left in it.