Unwrapping Jordan Read online

  She’d had an all-out, unbelievable love affair the past few weeks with a man who’d stolen her heart, ripped it in two, and repaired it with the tape and glue of his devotion, sincerity and actions. She popped the trunk of the car and got out. Setting his bags on the curb, he embraced her, enveloping her spirit, leaving more traces of him inside her heart.

  “I’ll be right back.” He looked down at her with all the love she could handle. “I promise. Just gotta take care of some things, all right?”

  She nodded.

  “I know. Call me when you land.”

  “Of course I will. Soon at I get to L.A.X., I’ll let you know and we’ll talk every day ’til I get back home to you, all right?”

  “Yes.” She rose on her tippy toes and kissed him once again.

  “Cool. Ya better get goin’, baby. That traffic cop is lookin’ at ya funny.”

  She glanced over her shoulder and sure enough, there was a guy mean-mugging her.

  “Okay.” She wasn’t certain what else to say, so she turned to walk away.

  “Oh, wait, one more thing. What do ya want for Christmas, baby?”

  “Just you, Jordan.”

  “You wanna unwrap Jordan again, huh? I’m a gift that keeps on giving. Can’t say I blame ya.” She chuckled at his silliness, then started to get back in her car. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, Jay. Have a safe flight.” She waved him goodbye. When she buckled up, she observed the man of her dreams and the source of a few miserable nightmares of Christmases past walk towards the automatic airport doors. He paused, turned around, and blew her a kiss. She reached up high and caught it.

  “Baby, it’s cold outside… hurry back to keep me warm…”

  “So yeah, I’ve got it all taken care of.” Jordan tossed more expired food into his trashcan. He had his cellphone on the kitchen island, leaving it on speaker as he wrapped up a conversation with his boss.

  “I saw the report. It was helpful. You said you wanted to talk to me about something else, too. Everything okay?”

  Jordan grabbed a beer, the last one, and removed the lid. He took a big gulp.

  “Yeah. There’s a satellite sister company of ours in Boston. Cambridge.”

  “Yeah, there is. It’s been there for about four years.”

  “Would it be possible for me to transfer there?”

  He was met with a long bout of silence.

  “I mean, are you thinking of moving back to Boston permanently?”

  “Yeah. Look, Kent, I love my job, I’m truly thankful for the opportunities you and the company have given me. I don’t wanna lose any of that, but honestly, for the past six months, I’ve felt like I need to move on – that is, environment wise. I’ve been out here since I was eighteen. I’m now thirty-four. That’s a long time. I miss my family, man. I’m not married, no kids. No one is keeping me here, and the people I thought were my friends are not. The only thing that means something to me at this point is my career, and you all. I know I’m askin’ a lot, but—”

  “No, no, Jordan. I do understand. I know we rag on you about your accent. It’s all in fun and you take it well, but in all seriousness, everyone here admires and respects your work. You’re extremely talented and always willing to step up to the plate. We all know that you’re not originally from California, and the holidays sometimes have ways of making people homesick.”

  “Yeah, but like I said, it isn’t just the holidays. Ever since I and my ex-girlfriend broke up earlier this year, I had a lot of time to think. I stayed away from home, that being Boston, pretending I didn’t care, that I didn’t miss it, but I did. New England is in my blood. My sister and I used to be best friends. That dynamic changed. Not because of her, but because I wasn’t physically there. I was closer to my mother back then, too. I need to get back to that. My grandfather is still kickin’, but he’s not promised forever. He’s old and has some health problems. I love that man with all my heart. I wanna spend time with him before he passes. On top of that, I… never mind.”

  “No, what is it?”

  Jordan ran his hand through his hair and looked out the window towards his pool, all lit up. The view was absolutely breathtaking, but so were all the gleaming lights and big, fluffy snowflakes in Boston.

  “I ran into a girl I knew when I was a teenager and all those old feelings came rushing back. I want to be with her, Kent. I gotta be with her. It’s not even an option at this point, and if it means losing my good job, and all of you guys that I hold in high esteem, then that’s a high fuckin’ price to pay, but I’ll pay it. If I have to work at a fast-food joint until I find somethin’ else, I will, just to be with my family, to be with my woman. To be back where I belong.”

  “Jordan, you have enough experience and education, highly sought after skills, that you’ll never have to do that. You’re in a desirable field, so no matter where you go, you’ll always find work. I’m sure you know that, but your point is noted all the same. Look.” The man sighed. “I don’t want to lose you as part of this team. We work well together, so if that means you get to work with us remotely from another city, then that’s what we’ll try to do.” Jordan couldn’t help but smile. “Give me a couple of weeks to pull some strings, get this worked out. You will have to come out to L.A. at least every business quarter, and go to Cambridge daily, though. It has to be hands on.”

  “Oh, I know. I didn’t expect to never have to fly out here again. It’ll be well worth it.”

  “Right, so yeah, let me make some calls and see if this can happen. We’ll figure something out, okay?”

  “All right. Thanks, man. I really appreciate it.”

  “Hey, I know what it’s like to want to be with your family. I was born here, but my grandparent, cousins, aunts and uncles are all the way in Israel. It was hard for my parents especially, I remember that clearly. So, spending time with your grandfather, the rest of your family, and your girlfriend is important. Friends are important too, Jordan. I know you might not believe that you can trust anyone, or that no one is your friend here, but this is not true. True, I’m your boss, but trust me, the respect goes both ways. I’m also your friend.”

  “Thanks, Kent. That means a lot.”

  They wrapped up their conversation and he continued to clean up and air out his house. It had been a couple of days since he’d been back to L.A., but the stuffy smell still clung to the air like a dark cloud. He’d been so busy with work upon his return, he’d barely had time to settle down. After grabbing a small bag of chips, he figured he’d watch a little television, then give Egypt a call to see how her day went. Trudging up the steps, he hummed, ‘Oh Christmas Tree,’ then plopped down on his bed. As he watched an episode of ‘Schitt’s Creek,’ on Netflix, one scene reminded him of his friend, Mike, and then, Ma’s words came back to haunt him.

  I need to call my friends back in Boston. I’ll do that first thing tomorrow. I need to just come clean, apologize, and try to fix this shit. Those were my true friends, my buddies from football and high school. They tried to keep in touch and visit me, but I wouldn’t allow it.

  As the episode played, he began to fool around on his laptop and phone, checking his social media that he’d been inconsistent with for weeks. He’d been goofing around online for a couple of hours when his phone rang. It was Kent.

  “Hey, buddy, miss me already?” he teased.

  “Jordan, we have a problem.”

  “What?”

  “I sent out an email to corporate as soon as we hung up, about your request. I got a call almost immediately from HR. Ironically, they’ve been flooded with complaints about your work performance from various companies that have contracted us for services and were drafting a formal letter to send to me to request a performance review and possible termination if an investigation led to these complaints being legitimate. After they told me about these grievances, I made it clear that that was impossible, that your work is impeccable. I explained you’ve never even had a disciplinary acti
on taken against you, and that an investigation would be unnecessary. They felt otherwise, based on the feedback. On top of that, someone is leaving 1-star reviews online, mentioning you, specifically. Normally, this wouldn’t be a big deal, but there is a great deal of your personal information out there along with it.”

  Jordan’s heart sank, feeling like a festering sore.

  “Where are these reviews and complaints?”

  Kent rattled off the information and he got off the damn phone as fast as possible, his pulse racing. Sure enough, someone was bad-mouthing the hell out of him on several reputable review sites.

  - Jordan DeMarco was uninformed. We asked him several questions about how to use the program that he designed, and he didn’t have a clue.

  - This guy, Mr. DeMarco, is an idiot. Don’t hire this software engineer and consultant. Buyer beware.

  - Mr. DeMarco’s software caused a massive shutdown of our systems for two days. We sustained a substantial loss in revenue and may seek legal action.

  In other posts, his work phone number, home address, and even his mother’s address were listed. He’d have to contact the server of these websites to get this information removed ASAP. In his line of work there could be a small degree of danger. Oftentimes he dealt with international hackers, digital extortionists, and the like. He kept reading, his fists clenched. All he could see was red.

  - Jordan DeMarco is very unprofessional. He was flirtatious and tried to come on to the assistant manager. He also used sexually suggestive language and told crude jokes during our luncheon.

  Lies. Lies. Lies.

  And so the defamation continued.

  His head pounded from a brand-new headache. The stress of it all.

  There’s no way I can be transferred with this shit going on! I might lose my job altogether, and worst of all, this problem could follow me wherever I go to the point I wouldn’t be able to get another gig, anywhere, for any position in my field. This could ruin me!

  Rubbing his temple, he looked back over the reviews, checking out the dates. They’d all been posted in the last four weeks. He delved deeper, and in about twenty minutes, he’d gathered more incrementing information. These are fictitious. I can see different locations and names, but they’re all from the same user. This company, The Teller Group, sent me a fucking fruit basket after I finished implementing the system for them. So why would they then turn around and write something like this? They didn’t. They couldn’t. I bet the IP address is the same for each post, too.

  He grabbed his other laptop, and got down to work…

  His brain about exploded.

  Dennis!

  How in the hell did you not think I would find out? That I wouldn’t beat you at your own game? This is my expertise! It’s over for you, motherfucker.

  Jumping off the bed, he rushed to his nightstand drawer. He pulled out his gun and jammed it in the back pocket of his jeans before heading out the door…

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Baby, It’s Cold Outside

  Grandma used to say, ‘My soul is troubled.’ She’d say it when Grandpa was at the bar too long. She said it right before my home burned down. And now, my soul is troubled, too…

  Egypt lounged on her bedroom’s bay window bench in a warm white footed onesie which Erin had given her as a gag gift of sorts. She absolutely loved it and wore it on bitterly cold days such as this. It was covered in little red candy canes and green wreaths, and had a cute faux fur lined hood.

  The electric fireplace was going, and she watched the fluffy snow fall from the dusky sky. Tiana Major9’s ‘Same Space’ was playing, making her miss her baby all the more. Bringing a cup of hot cocoa to her lips, she took a sip, then one more. Felt so good going down. Her mind wandered. While she’d been in an important meeting, she’d missed a call from Jordan. It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time, but now, she definitely regretted it.

  Jordan had sounded fairly chipper in the voicemail he left, stating, ‘If all goes well, I have a huge surprise for you.’ She had no idea what that meant, but she was looking forward to receiving whatever it was.

  She’d tried to return his call a few hours later, to no avail. She’d even left a text message. Now, panic was beginning to set in. It was unlike him to not respond. In fact, he was very good about replying in a timely manner. Ugly thoughts tried to hijack her happiness, such as the warnings from Andre a few weeks ago that slipped inside of her like the ghost of Christmas past. ‘He’ll find someone else when he goes back to California…’, ‘Why would he leave his good job and great life for you?’, ‘You’re the one that got away. That’s the only reason he wants you…’

  Although her ‘cousin’ had tried to make amends, she still didn’t feel like speaking to him. Andre had called her a few days prior and apologized in the voicemail before asking her to call him back. It wasn’t like her to hold a grudge, and although she hadn’t admitted this to him, the things he’d said had really hurt her deep to her core. Unfortunately, she’d cared so much about his opinion that his words had sneaked inside her mind, almost allowing him to ruin her time with Jordan. Thankfully, she’d snapped out it before it was too late. She refused to allow this person, no matter how much she loved Andre, to get her off track. She just needed a little more time.

  I shouldn’t worry about Jordan. There’s probably nothing going on at all and he’s more than likely busy with work. I’m sitting here convincing myself that he’s going to hurt me again, that he’s up to something sneaky, or he’s with another woman and that’s why he hasn’t called back. The insecurity is trying to worm its way back in. She took another sip of her cocoa. I can’t let that happen. I’m stronger than this. What Andre said wasn’t true. Jordan DOES love me, and he does take us seriously. He’s just busy right now. He’ll call.

  But her soul was still troubled. Was something wrong? Is he hurt? Did he have a car accident? Something doesn’t feel right. The though nagged and nagged at her, like a fruit fly buzzing around, refusing to leave her be. Her intuition was going crazy. This was the same sort of hunch that had told her to call off her engagement to a man she loved, but knew didn’t fully appreciate her; the same intuition that had told her to turn around and drive back to the hospital, despite Erin saying she was feeling better, and sure enough, she’d died right in front of her less than thirty minutes after her arrival. At least she got to say goodbye…

  Also, it was the same intuition that had told her that one day, she would see Jordan again.

  Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Whatever is going on, even if there IS something going on, there’s nothing I can do about it right now. I’ve called. I’ve left messages. Now, I have to just wait. Let me go watch a movie or something to distract me. I’m trippin’. She slid away from the window, grabbed her remote control, and sat on the bed. ‘Waiting to Exhale’ was on. Perfect…

  A little after seven, Jordan pulled up to Dennis’ condo on Wilshire Boulevard. It had taken him a few minutes to get his thoughts organized and pull the trigger on his plan. He studied the exterior of the fucker’s home, made a few assessments, then got out of his car. Noting said wanker’s Corvette in the driveway, he marched up to the front door. After ringing the bell several times, punching the shit out of it, he looked into the camera, offering a wave then the middle finger. He knew damn well the asshole was in there, hiding out like the chicken he was.

  “Yo! Dennis! It’s me, DeMarco, ya fuckin’ traitor! Come to yah door, man!” There was no answer, but he spotted movement in one of the rooms. “I thought you said you wanted to talk? Let bygones be bygones?” he hollered as loudly as he could. “Well, I’m here now, ol’ buddy! How’d the honeymoon go for ya, huh? Good? Could jah get it up knowin’ I’d been up in that? Doin’ renovations? Knockin’ down walls in that pussy? Nothin’ like a good ol’ fashioned revenge fuck. Did ya slip Sasha the tongue? Give it tha ol’ college try? If so, how’d my dick taste?”

  Suddenly, the front door swung open and Dennis shoved his
head out, his eyes bloodshot, enraged. He looked like some drug-addicted bull that had been sniffing cocaine all day.

  “You son of a bitch!” the man yelled. “You’re going to have the neighbors call the police… AHHHH! FUCK!”

  Jordan elbowed him in the nose and forced his way inside. He slammed and locked the door within seconds. Dragging Dennis by his black robe into the foyer area, he slammed him up against the wall. Blood oozed out the bastard’s left nostril. Reaching for his gun, he placed it right against Dennis’ head. The man’s eyes became wild as he looked about, yelling and cursing. Blubbering.

  “Aye! Shut tha fuck up. You do exactly what the fuck I tell ya to do. If you don’t, I will shoot your balls off and turn you into the little girl that you really are. Now, it’s one thing to fuck a bitch I don’t want anymore, but it’s a whole ’nother to fuck with my money and mess up something I’m trying to get cooking.”

  “Mess with your money? What are you talking about?” Dennis looked sincere, but boy oh boy, Jordan knew better. After all, the man had been keeping the secret of what he’d done with Heidi for almost half a year, and that little affair had more than likely lasted quite some time. This wasn’t his first dip in the pool.

  “You filed bogus reports and left a bunch of fake reviews on business websites about me. I traced the IEP addresses, just to make sure, and lo and behold, it came right back to you.”

  Dennis slumped against the wall.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he cried, his eyes narrowed.

  “Are ya fuckin’ stupid? I’m trained in this, Dennis! This is what I do for a living! I track extortionists and thieves down who like to carry out their business and dirty dealings online, even the dark web. I’m the cybercrimes guy, remember? Ya dumbass! If I can take down a mastermind hacker any fucking day of the week, do ya really think you could produce a rotten egg I can’t crack? You can’t beat me at my own game!”