John Hogan's "little Labor Day get together" meant a catered affair at his sprawling estate with roast pigs on spits, strolling musicians, and seemingly enough people to fill a stadium.
Kristi had been wearing designer flats and designer capris with a sweater knotted just-so around her shoulders when Woody had picked her up. She had obviously spent the better part of her morning trying to look effortlessly casual. She was mortified to see him in khaki shorts and a golf shirt, and now he understood why as he watched the swirl of madras plaid, Lily Pulitzer, and tennis whites around him.
He realized after they had been there for some time that he hadn't seen Jordan yet. He had run into her a few times at one function or another during the last few weeks. They had exchanged niceties and made some casual party banter, but that was it. For the best, really. His dreamy notion of creating some cozy, platonic relationship was probably unrealistic, not to mention dangerous. Even if he did swear to himself up and down that he was completely over Jordan.
Kristi had gotten a call and had wandered off in search of better cell phone reception, leaving him to amble the grounds alone. He came to a place where the earth crested and then dropped down to a terrace below. Jordan was there, alone, with her feet dangling in the pool.
She wore a floral pink sundress and a pair of dainty pink sandals sat on the edge of the pool beside her.
Jordan Cavanaugh in a pink sundress. He paused and took the image in. She looked lovely, as she always did, soft and feminine, but it seemed so incongruous, like a lumberjack in a tutu.
He shook his head and watched her for a moment. Her face was dark and distracted. He had never seen her so sad the way she was now and the way she had been this last month. Sadness implied a resignation to one's fate, and that was not Jordan Cavanaugh.
She lifted a bottle of beer to her lips then and drained it.
Now, that's Jordan, he thought as he grinned to himself.
She saw him then and raised the bottle to him in recognition. He ambled down the bank and sat beside her.
"Enjoying the festivities, I see," she said.
"Yeah, that's some party. In my world, a barbecue means you call up a few friends, buy some beer, throw some brats on the grill, play some lawn darts or badminton if you've got a big enough yard. But this..."
"Yeah. Just you and few hundred of John Hogan's close, personal friends."
They sat silently for a time as she made slow, swirling eddies in the water with her bare feet.
She leaned her head back and closed her eyes against the midday sun.
"That's a...nice dress, Jordan."
"He said sarcastically," she shot back.
"No, really, it's..."
"Oh, come on. I feel like a Stepford wife in this thing. Barbie Pink is not exactly my color."
"No! No! It's actually a very nice dress, and you..." He paused, wondering at the appropriateness of admiring his old girlfriend. "You...you look terrific in it." He scratched his head. "I've just never really seen you wear anything like it before."
"Reed likes me to dress up for these things," she said with a shrug and gave her beer another slug.
He watched her out of the corner of his eye. Sometimes at these gatherings she would laugh and shoot out some zinger, and she seemed happy and at ease. More often, when she thought no one was looking, he had watched her retreat into herself, and it seemed the light in her eyes had gone out.
Suddenly she jumped to her feet and slipped on her shoes. "You wanna get out of here?"
XXXXXX
Yes. He'd said yes. He opened his mouth to tell her that he needed to stay here with Kristi, and he didn't really think it was right to leave the party, especially not with his former girlfriend.
He'd opened his mouth to say all that, but instead, the word, "yes" came out, and he found himself sneaking across the lawn and waiting with her like two giggling teenagers while the parking valet went to get Reed's car.
"Sweet mama..." he exhaled when the platinum Jaguar XK convertible pulled up in front of them. He reached out hopefully for the keys, but Jordan snatched them from the valet's hand.
"Dream on, farmboy." She slid behind the wheel. "You coming?"
"Jordan, I don't know if this is such a good idea."
"Come on, man! We're just going for a quick spin. They won't even miss us."
He ran his hand admiringly along the side of the car. It was a sweet piece of machinery. He was bored stiff at this thing, and Kristi would, most likely, never realize he was gone. And then, it was a chance to spend some time with Jordan. If only in the most fraternal and upright of ways, of course.
"Come on! You know you don't want to stay at this stuffy old party any more than I do."
He managed to jump into the passenger seat just before she put the car in gear and tore down the driveway.
XXXXXX
A half hour later, they were still driving, on and on down endless roads. They laughed together as the car hugged the curves of the road. She looked over at him once and flashed a carefree grin, and she seemed to him to be herself again.
Woody glanced at his watch. Someone would notice they were gone.
"Hey, Jordan, think we should head back?
She responded by accelerating. He looked over. The speedometer was inching toward sixty.
"Hey, uh, Jordan. Maybe you should slow down a little."
"Come on! Live a little!"
"It's not living I'm worried about right now, Jordan, it's dying. These back roads are kind of twisty," he shouted over the noise of the engine.
She shot him a mischievous sideways glance and threw the car into a higher gear.
He dug his fingers into the door handle. "Jordan, you are making me very nervous right now."
The car whipped around another corner as the road disappeared into a patch of woods. Just ahead, a truck pulled off of a service road and lumbered out into their path.
"Jordan...JORDAN!"
She gave the steering wheel a quick turn, and the car veered off the road and into the woods. He instinctively threw his forearms in front of his face as the car caromed down a bank and landed with a splash.
He opened his eyes to see the front tires and hood of Reed Davis' Jaguar sinking into six inches of pond water. Jordan's face had gone ashen, and a splatter of muddy goo covered her dress.
There was a moment of complete, jaw-dropping noiselessness .
Woody swallowed hard, turning the enormity of the situation over in his head.
"I ditched a party with my ex-girlfriend. Who happens to be the current girlfriend of one of the most powerful men in Boston," he deadpanned slowly. "And we just. Wrecked. His Jag."