Page 29 of The Best Man: Unfinished Business

Chapter Thirteen

Jordan

“Why the hell not?” Shelby’s voice floated through Jordan’s phone speaker in typical animated fashion.

The late afternoon sun was setting over the Pacific and Jordan slowly paced her deck trying to enjoy her glass of Malbec.

She reached down to throw on her oversized gray cashmere wrap, perfect for Malibu evenings just like this.

The scenery was pretty but it got cool out there, particularly in March.

Also, she was stalling. Shelby’s question hung for a few seconds in the air before Jordan could find the right response.

“Because I’m not you, Shelby,” she said finally.

“Well, obviously.”

Jordan rolled her eyes playfully. How did I even come to commiserate with Shelby?

They had NOT been cool in undergrad. In fact, they couldn’t stand one another.

But their common denominator was Mia Morgan.

Jordan had been her resident assistant back in the day, and Mia became the sweetest little sister she never had.

Mia and Shelby were sorors, so also sisters of another kind of bond.

Neither Jordan nor Shelby saw the appeal in the other, but Mia saw something in both.

When she died, Shelby and Jordan found themselves in conversation about their dear friend and vying for auntie time with the Sullivan children.

Forced to communicate and coordinate schedules, they eventually found common ground, knowing their angel sister played a vital part every day. Including this one.

“What I mean is I’m not an ‘in front of the camera’ person,” Jordan responded.

“Oh, please. Do you really think any of those housewives were ‘front of the camera’ people before a camera was put on them? It’s all smoke and mirrors.

And you have substance, J,” Shelby argued, fully employing her undergraduate debate team skills.

“They don’t care because there’s not enough of you in it.

The essence of this show is your story.”

“My fingerprints are all over this, Shelby….” Jordan briefly recalled the six repetitions of what she’d thought was her perfect show pitch.

“That’s not what I’m talking about. People should get to know the real you.

People love Oprah because she gave us her vulnerabilities.

She wasn’t just reporting the news; she told us about her.

She let us in. You need to do the same, fly-ass Black woman.

” Jordan could feel Shelby’s targeted energy.

However, what was good for good TV wasn’t always good for the folks providing it. Jordan valued her privacy.

“That’s not going to happen, Shelby.” Jordan took another sip of her red.

“Look, I know you’re risk averse, but when are you going to take the big swing?”

“I’ve taken plenty of big swings in my life. Calculated big swings and ninety percent of the time it’s paid off.” Jordan sat in her favorite patio chair triumphantly.

“You’ve also been gun-shy, and it’s been to your detriment.

You have to go for what you want. And if being in front of the camera is what it takes, then do it.

” So said the woman who infamously broke up a wedding in pursuit of her now-husband, Quentin.

“I know it can be scary, but you’ll be happier in the long run that you took the chance.

” Something about Shelby’s intonation made Jordan pause.

“Wait, are we still talking about my show?”

“Oh, I’m past that. I’ve already started talking about Harper,” Shelby quipped.

“Oh God, Shelby—”

“Are you going to see him?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play me. Play Powerball,” Shelby said sharply. Only Shelby. “He’s coming out there for a book signing and meetings and asked to see you.” How’d she… Jordan didn’t have much time to wonder. “I overheard him and Quentin talking,” Shelby added. Ah, of course.

“So you eavesdropped on your husband’s convo?”

“Call it what you want, but I got the info.” Shelby remained smug and casually unbothered.

“You better be careful. You might hear shit you don’t want to hear. Some secrets need to be kept from spouses.”

“Fuck that. Give it to me raw, bitch. It’s gonna come out anyway.

We will deal with it regardless of what it is.

Better to know and go through it together.

This life is finite, so be open.” Shelby was all drama and emotions, no matter how high or low.

Jordan wasn’t built to revel in all the feels.

What do I have to gain by seeing Harper?

She imagined Shelby would counter, What do you have to lose?

Instead she heard Shelby say, “Stop hiding from him.”

Jordan took the last swig of her wine and placed the empty glass on a coaster atop her patio coffee table. She pulled her cashmere wrap around her like a shield. “Who’s hiding? He knows where I am.”

“Does he?”

“He knows I’m out here. He knows how to get in contact with me.” Jordan curled up deeper in her wrap, pulling her feet up under it. The breeze was getting cooler.

“He did get in contact with you, and you’ve been ghosting him.

” Damn this woman’s eavesdropping. “And, hell, you moved out there to get away from him anyway.” Jordan wouldn’t let on, but Shelby had struck a nerve.

There was something about the prodding that she appreciated. A testing of her resolve.

“I moved out here to get a new start, Shelby. To take care of me. This LA lifestyle suits me. I’m making my own schedule, eating right, exercising. I get to wake up and go to sleep with this majestic Pacific Ocean every day and night. It’s working for me.”

“Oh really? No dick is working for you? Trifling ass Black men chasing BBL white and Indian chicks is working for you?” Shelby was dramatic and raw, pulling no punches. Jordan felt like she was on the defensive, again.

“Who says I’m getting no dick? I do fine.

And I got toys.” Jordan quietly recalled that she did in part move to Malibu to take herself out of the Harper and Robyn divorce equation.

She had to leave New York—otherwise she’d want to see him, check in on him, have him to herself…

finally. And that was not going to help him, his writing, or her.

She couldn’t be waiting for him to get his shit together.

But her large ego had no patience for something that may or may not happen.

“What’s for me is for me, Shelby,” Jordan continued, ready to pounce.

“You’re right. Harper is for you.” Shit. Jordan’s shoulders slumped back. “This is stupid,” Shelby continued. “You two have been circling each other for-EVER. Stop with the hesitation and dumb excuses.”

“He was married. I wouldn’t call that a dumb excuse.”

“He’s divorced.”

“He needed to process and heal.”

“He’s healed, he’s processed.”

“Really, Shelby?”

“Well, he’s continuing to process. A lot of random pussy,” Shelby admitted.

“He’s not processing this pussy.”

“How can he from the friend zone? That you put him in. Again! You didn’t even tell him what you wanted.” Shelby was right about that. But who was Jordan to have to tell a grown man to pursue her?

“He should know.”

“Arrghh! When are you going to understand? Men are stupid! Hello?! You have to tell them what you want and what they want. They don’t fucking know.

” He should already know, Jordan thought.

He knows me. Doesn’t he…? Shouldn’t he? As Jordan considered Shelby’s words, she had no idea Shelby was gearing up for her closer, her strongest point.

“Don’t…push him toward another Robyn. You should at least see him. And fuck him.”

“ Fuck him ?!”

“Yes! Who cares ?! Just fuck him. We’re too old to play games.”

“I can’t just… fuck Harper.”

“Why not?” Shelby demanded. Jordan released a slow exhale.

“I just…there’s too much history; it’s too complicated—”

“It’s not complicated. You’ve waited your entire adult life for this man.

Sample the goods. If the fantasy doesn’t meet the reality, then bam!

Banish his ass back to the friend zone.” Shelby made it sound so simple.

“But to be honest I don’t think the fantasy will disappoint.

You love him and you may as well find out why. For real.”

“I have to go, Shelby.” Jordan had finally reached her limit. Shelby had overloaded her circuits.

“Jordan, stop. It’s not a big deal,” Shelby quickly interjected.

“Just go to dinner. He’s not seeing anybody—or at least he’s not letting anybody he’s seeing be seen.

He was solo at Candace’s party.” Jordan sighed at the welcomed news.

Finally, something in this conversation brought relief.

The serial monogamist was alone. “I told him ‘No random bitches.’?” Shelby laughed.

“But I think he came to that conclusion on his own. That nigga is struggling. ” It was amusing hearing bougie-ass Shelby be so free with “nigga.” It seemed unnatural yet so perfect coming out of her mouth.

“He’s not happy, Jordan. And he was hurt when he heard you were in town and didn’t reach out. ”

“I don’t have to tell him all my moves.”

“Okay, boss bitch. We know. But put that shit on pause for one second, please? Stop acting like you don’t want him.

And that you don’t want him to want you.

Stop making yourself unavailable because you want to be on top.

Be open, Jordan.” Jordan loudly sighed her objection.

“And you can still be on top when you ride that dick. Eeeyyyooww!” Jordan couldn’t help but smile and shake her head. This bitch…

“Okay, I’mma let you go.” Shelby sounded like she meant it. “But stop with the bullshit. Call him, text him, DM him. Reach out. Go see him, let him see you. And lead with your pussy. Okay?”

“?‘Lead with my pussy’? What is wrong with you?”

“So many things. But I said what I said.”

“Goodbye, Shelby.” Jordan was starting to shiver at the chilly air blowing in off the Pacific.

“Love you.”

“I love you too.” Jordan pressed the end button on her phone.

In the distance, the sun was dropping behind the ocean’s horizon.

She watched with her heart beating fast despite her glass of vino, realizing she did have real feelings for Harper.

But Jordan didn’t do feelings. She replayed Shelby’s pointed dig in her mind: Don’t drive him to another Robyn.

Fuck, that hit. Hard. Shelby was right, though. Take control. If not now, when?

She stood, grabbed her glass and walked to her patio door to let herself inside. Fine. Fuckit.

Lead with my pussy? “Girrrrl…” Jordan was going to do it on her terms, in her way. Do not meet him for his book signing. Find out where he is staying…no fuck that. Make him come tome.

She stepped over to her couch and turned on her sixty-inch flat-screen. She sat and pulled her phone up to her face, searching for Harper’s text. He was probably still in the air or just landing. So, I’m going to text him. Jordan finally decided. Tomorrow…but my pussy will be in panties…