But she was home now, having dragged her body through waves of humidity on the four-block walk from the metro to the condo. She glanced through the window at the far end of the open room and spied the top of a building on the George Washington University campus two blocks over. She loved living downtown and ten floors up. The lights and the steady hum of life below worked for her.
When the sun finally went down and the traffic below slowed, she’d throw open her balcony door and plop down on the chair she set up out there. The space spanned only a few feet, but was wide enough for her to lounge with her feet balanced on the metal railing as the D.C. summer heat enveloped her.
A face appeared in front of her. Blond-haired and entirely too cute to be believed with those big blue eyes. Elle stood there, dressed in comfortable shorts and a sweatshirt, thanks to having the air conditioner cranked up on this hot early-September evening.
She reached across the counter and grabbed a wineglass and a bottle before taking off for the couch. “How was your day with the urinator?”
Jordan followed with a glass of her own, because this definitely was a red-wine night and no way was she letting that bottle out of her sight. She also brought the cell phone, because heaven forbid she be without it or not check the site’s stats for more than ten seconds at a time.
“Ryan refrained from peeing on my desk before I cleaned out and left, so I guess that was a triumph.”
With an expertise that was impressive for a twenty-two-year-old English-literature grad student, Elle had the bottle open and the wine poured in one grand sweep. “Are you done at that office?”
“Definitely.” Jordan cradled the glass in her hands and let the rich scent of red wine wind through her and relax each muscle. She sank back into the overstuffed chair and balanced her aching feet on the oversize ottoman that sucked up too much of her eight-hundred-square-foot condo but was too comfortable to give away.
“Did he play a game of chase you around the desk?”
The very idea of that made Jordan’s lunch curdle in her stomach. “He was too busy getting his butt handed to him.”
The glass stopped halfway to Elle’s mouth. “Is that code for something?”
“Forest Redder.”
Those blue eyes went all soft as her look turned gooey. “I’ve seen pictures of him in the paper. That guy is delicious.”
Jordan was withholding judgment and ignoring the fact she’d performed a lengthy internet search on him on her phone on the commute home. “You should meet the live version. Very potent.”
“Holy shit.” Elle’s voice took on a breathy quality. “You saw him in person?”
“Saw, talked to.” Jordan dropped her cell on her lap and tipped her head back. Closing her eyes felt good until Forest’s face swam in front of her and she had to open them again. Last thing she needed was a movie of that guy, X-rated or otherwise, running in her head. “Anything on him in the database?”
“You know there’s not. You have every last scrap collated, double-checked and memorized.”
And that’s what bugged her. There should be reams of reports on Forest. “There’s no way he sleeps alone.”
“If not, no one is talking.”
Jordan sat up a bit straighter and shifted to face Elle. “How is that possible? I know about the guy a building over who likes to wear Spanx under his suit so his stomach looks smaller, so—”
“How exactly?”
“—how can I not know about one of the most visible bachelors in the city?”
Elle swished the liquid around in her glass and shot her wine a naughty little smile. It took a minute for her to run through her entire he’s-hot facial expressions, but she finally got around to her point. “There are rumors.”
Wait a second.
Everything inside Jordan stopped. She doubted she had measurable blood flow at the moment. “No way is that guy gay. I’d bet most women hand him their panties when they first meet.”
Not that the comment applied to Jordan.
Elle was a neighbor and best friend, despite the four-year age difference. She was also the only person on the planet who knew what happened behind the scenes at Need to Know and about Jordan’s ownership of it. Elle reviewed everything that came in on the site and took care of coding and proofreading. She also did some background checks.
Right now she looked two seconds away from launching into a serious cross-examination. Elle may have dropped out of law school in favor of something she termed “more Arts and Science-y,” but those killer questioning instincts appeared to be alive and well.
She curled her legs up under her and leaned on the couch’s armrest. “I think I’m unclear on what kind of meeting this was with Forest. Explain.”
“The kind where Ryan tried to negotiate, but got outmaneuvered by Forest. The guy barely spoke and still led the discussion and demanded attention.” But Jordan knew that part. It was the private intel on Forest she wanted. “Now back to the rumors.”
“Confidentiality agreement.”
Jordan downed a healthy portion of the wine with a hard swallow. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Are you trying to wow me with your legal knowledge?”
“The rumor is he has his dates, the ones that stick around for anything longer than a few nights, sign a confidentiality agreement.”
“I... Wait...” Jordan wondered if maybe she drank too fast. “What?”
Her gaze searched Elle’s face for any sign of amusement, but all Jordan got was a raised eyebrow. When the discussion was just between the two of them, Elle tended to spit out any information she had as fast as she could. She loved the gossip-oriented part of the site. Thrived on it. And Elle had never gotten her facts wrong. Jordan depended on that.
Still, this sounded insane. “Oh, come on. An agreement?”
Elle reached for the bottle and refilled Jordan’s glass. “I’m just repeating what I’ve heard.”
“That’s a level of control bordering on crazy. Like, I want to call him a therapist right now.” Well, maybe take a second to strip him out of that suit jacket first, just to see what he hid under there, but then straight to a therapist. Jordan was comfortable with that order. She wasn’t as happy about how every crumb she collected about Forest intrigued her more, even this bit of weirdness.
Elle shrugged. “The rich do strange things.”
“Testify, but what woman would sign an agreement for a dinner date? Is he that special?”
Elle smiled behind her glass as she rubbed the rim over her lips. “Well, are you still wearing your panties or not?”
Jordan intended to keep them in place whenever Forest was around, but... “Good point.”
“Word is he’s dark and mysterious. Maybe a woman is willing to do some out-there things to climb between the sheets with him.”
Jordan decided her dear friend had a point. “But hire a lawyer to review a legal document?”
“I guess he likes full command over mattress time.”
Forest. Bed. Naked. Shoulders.
Interesting. “Now you’re just trying to make my head to explode.”
Elle held up her