When the cab pulled up in front of Woody's building, Jordan looked around the all but deserted street and realized just how late it was. The clock on the cabby's dash it said it was well after midnight. She hoped he was still awake.
...and alone.
"Do you want me to wait until you're inside ma'am?" the cabby asked in broken English. "This isn't a good place for a lady like you to be walking around in the middle of the night."
Jordan's lips twitched at the cabby's comments. Dressed like she was, he had no idea that her own place was in a rougher neighborhood. All he knew was that he picked up a fare from one of the most exclusive areas of town and brought her downtown to an older blue collar district.
"I'll be fine," she smiled handing him a big tip on top of the one Louis's doorman had already paid him. "Thank you."
The cabby slowly drove away as Jordan climbed the stairs into the building. Her heels echoed in the stairwell as she climbed to the fourth floor. By the time she reached his door she realized how he kept in shape. She picked a pebble out of her strappy heals and wiggled her toes. The idea of carrying laundry up and down those stairs would be enough to make Jordan consider moving. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
Brewers lost; Soxs lost; Bucks lost and Celtics win. Thank God he wasn't a betting man.
Woody finished cleaning up the mess of his chips and salsa dinner and tried to concentrate on balancing his checkbook. He had it squared away three days ago but it didn't hurt to double check. It was mindless work that kept his mind occupied...especially when the brouhaha to the museum was over an hour ago. They were forecasting rain. Jordan's windshield wipers needed to be replaced. He told her that every time he rode in that pile of junk she called a vehicle...not that he rode in it often. He didn't have a deathwish. Maybe he should call her and see if she needed a ride home...even if he had to listen to her complain about his own classic all the way.
Woody shook his head and focused on the column of numbers in front of him.
She could take a cab into work in the morning to pick the Camino up...or he could swing by and drive in...if it started raining of course.
It was fruitless to even try and concentrate on something as mundane as his check book. He gave up. Polishing off the last drag of his beer he tossed the bottle in the trash and pulled his shirt off heading to the bathroom to get ready for bed. He brushed his teeth swearing to himself that he'd get a real life...starting tomorrow. He had just turned off the lights when there was a knock on the door. It was after midnight. Nobody knocked on somebody's door after midnight. The first thought that went through his head was that Cal was back. Cal won't show his face up here again. He should just let whoever it is find somebody else to pester. Curiosity got the best of him and he cracked open the door cautiously.
"Jordan!" His mind immediately registered the rumpled cocktail dress and tired makeup. "What are you doing here?"
"Would you believe I'm in the need for a late night munchy fix?"
"Not really."
"May I at least come in?"
Woody opened the door to let her in. "Ah, make yourself comfortable...I guess..." he said disappearing into the bedroom. He returned a few seconds later with a fresh shirt.
"It's after midnight Jordan."
"So it is," she said looking around. With a flash of consciousness, Jordan realized she had never seen the inside of Woody's apartment before. Funny that she could be friends with someone for so long and never made the effort to see where they called home...
"My God, you do have a ping pong table in here."
"I picked it up last winter," Woody said grabbing a week's worth of junk mail off the surface. If he knew she was stopping by he would have at least picked up a little. "What are you doing here? Are you drunk?"
"No."
"Car broke down?"
"No," she repeated picking up his signed Gaylord Perry baseball.
"Then what are you doing here?" Woody was quickly growing uncomfortable with Jordan's one answer conversation. She was up to something. He pulled the ball from her hands and put it back on the bookshelf...only higher this time.
"I was going out for a bite to eat and I was wondering if you'd like to join me. My treat of course, but you're driving."
"It's after midnight Jordan."
"So you've said before. You know I'm not a morning person. Breakfast is better in the middle of the night."
"I assume your date at least fed you or he's a bigger jackass than I thought he was." Jordan rolled her eyes. He ignored her and kept on talking. "You're not here to critique my interior decorating style and I know you hate riding in my rickety old car as much as I hate riding with you driving..."
"That piece of shit you drive is rickety Woody."
"As I was saying, unless Jefferies' fancy ass limo got lost...why are you here instead of there Jordan?"
Jordan's eye narrowed slightly, "How did you know he had a limo?"
Woody cleared his throat. "Why wouldn't he? Let me worn you, if you got dumped and want someone's shoulder to cry on you're barking up the wrong tree. I'd be too tempted to say 'I told you so'."
Jordan self-consciously straightened the neckline of her dress and asked herself why clothes fit so much better when you are in the changing room at the store than they do when it's too late to take them back.
"Yeah," she pretended to snap her imaginary gum. "I wouldn't help him study for his third period anatomy test so he dumped me...Give me a break Hoyt."
Unruffled, Woody said, "So...you dumped him."
Jordan's month opened and closed repeatedly. She began to think maybe this was a big mistake. "There was no 'dumping' involved Woody. I just...It just dawned on me that I don't make a good accessory."
"Did he tell you that?"
"Do you want to go out for breakfast or not?"
"You didn't answer my question."
"Neither did you."
"Louis was a gentleman...like he always is. You'd be surprised what a nice guy he can be Woody."
"A paragon of virtue I'm sure. If he's so great then why are you standing in the middle of my apartment, in the middle of the night, asking me out for breakfast? I'm sure he's as good of a cook as he is a guy. Unless I'm totally out in left field and Roz is right I'm sure he would have been more than happy to make you breakfast...or where there too many strings for you?"
"You now what, never mind. I'll call a cab and let you get some sleep."
As she turned to leave he stopped her. "Jordan, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." Much. "I'll drive you home. Just let me get my keys."
I'm sorry to leave it like this but I wanted to get something up sooner than later. I figure one more chapter and it'll be done.
