It's News to Her

Clearing his throat to hide a delighted laugh, Cord relaxed in his seat, determined to change that regardless of her stubbornness. “I’m thirty-eight, no failed marriages or illegitimate children to confirm any serious character flaws—although I’ll be the first to admit I’m far from perfect—but my grandfather and step-grandmother love me enough to give me a key to their residence when I’m in town.”

“Do your parents?”

“They sold their place after my father retired from the University of Texas. They enjoy being gypsies, traveling around the world. Fortunately, they know enough people to always have somewhere to stay. I’m afraid if they had kept their house, I’d be closer to the dust mites than I am to them.”

Although Hunter’s lips twitched, she quickly replied, “It’s none of my business, anyway.”

“Fraud. I’ve just piqued your interest, admit it.”

Reluctantly, she cast him a brief, searching glance. “You’re trying to make me feel sorry for you…and I almost do. It doesn’t sound like you’ve had the happiest family life.”

“Well, I’m a big boy now and it’s all water under the bridge. Getting my bachelor’s, master’s and some good counseling helped. And Henry has been a heck of a good grandfather. It was he who ultimately convinced me that people are who they are and to get on with things.”

Hunter’s doubtful expression said that she didn’t believe him for a second. “Like I said, it’s none of my business.”

Having shared more with her than he had anyone for some time, Cord was a bit startled. “You think I’m hiding something?”

“Everyone hides things or, more accurately, represses them, especially in this business.”

“You’ve done an admirable job staying positive and creating your own niche without a father figure.”

“Oh, believe me, my mother is a strong woman, and I had your grandfather as a part-time surrogate.”

“I will forever bless him every day of his and my life for watching over you,” Cord replied quietly with an intimate look.

“Will you please stop?”

“Stop what?”

“The flirting.”

“I’m afraid you’d better get used to it. It’s a spontaneous reaction where you’re concerned.”

They began taxiing toward the runway, and Captain Murray came over the speaker to make the usual announcements about staying seated and turning off electronic devices. “We’re lucking out and will be third in line for take-off. Stand by.”

Hunter lowered her eyes, and Cord watched her fiddle with her gold watch, check her fingernails and do everything but look outside. If she wore fake lashes, he was completely fooled—they looked that natural—and while her hands were long and elegant, her nails were relatively short and only buffed, not polished. She wore no rings, in fact her jewelry was nominal, yet of high quality. Her whole look was classy and ladylike, nothing overtly sexual, and yet Cord was as powerfully attracted to her as he’d ever been to any woman. Blatant was easy to find on any channel, just as it was on any street. Women were doing themselves a disservice by selling themselves cheap these days. There was nothing easy about Hunter Harding. But how the devil had someone with her principles fallen for a tool like Denny?

“You’re controlling your anxiety quite well,” he said with a new understanding for why she’d chosen an aisle seat. “I suspect that’s another reason—aside from your hectic schedule—why you don’t see your mother and grandmother more often.”

“I’m better than I used to be. Hypnosis helped.”

“You allowed yourself to be hypnotized?”

She bristled slightly. “Only after trying all of the other so-called cures. I didn’t want this to affect my ability to travel for my work if it became necessary.”

“I wasn’t being critical or condescending, I was intrigued that you would or could give up control that way.”

“Just because you and I have some conflict doesn’t mean I have trust issues. Besides, the person who did the hypnotizing is a psychiatrist, the mother of a friend. I trust her as much as I would my own mother.”

At least she was willing to admit she held a grudge. “Then I’m glad it helped. What about your mother, does she share your unease?”

“No. Since she’s done with flying. Simply refuses to get near a plane.”

“What if the orchestra takes a special booking they can’t easily drive to due to time or whatever?”

“She’ll drive herself if there’s time. If not, she relinquishes her position to the second chair violinist. The conductor and management understand the problem and are willing to work with her.”

“What happens at the holidays? Surely she asks you to come up and visit her?”

“And I do when I can.”

“That’s very brave…and generous.” He made a mental note to check her schedule the next time he had a need to fly north in case he could convince her to join him in order to have a quick visit with her loved ones.

They took off a few minutes later, and by then, Hunter had taken out her folder from her bag and was reading through her presentation—or at least pretending to. Cord saw her do some breathing exercises, as well. However, he was certain she was also trying to give him a strong hint to stop giving her the third degree. The problem was he was enjoying himself too much.

“Feel free to read it out loud if you’d like,” he told her.

“I don’t…thank you.”

“You’re not turning shy on me, are you?”

“That’s not the adjective that came to mind.”

Cord smiled at how the ruder she wanted to be, the more polite she became. “I’m going to wear you down, you know. You’re going to end up liking me despite yourself.”

“Good luck.”

“Why, thank you. Want to shake on it?” He extended his hand.

Looking from his hand to him, Hunter released her seat belt. “If you’ll excuse me, I really do need to focus on this speech. I’ll just take a seat in back where I can concentrate.”

It was no surprise to find a limo was waiting for them upon landing. Hunter figured if Cord wanted a helicopter to get them to the school, it would have been waiting on the tarmac, too. They hadn’t spoken for over three hours, yet Cord acted as though it hadn’t been more than two minutes.

“I’ve left directives with Chris to get some decent takeout for the flight home. If memory serves, you don’t like to eat before going on the air, do you?”

Refusing to let him see that he’d managed to surprise her, Hunter murmured, “No.” Inwardly, however, she wondered where he’d learned that tidbit, or rather, who he’d interrogated for information about her? At least this was a full-length limousine, and the window was up between them and the driver—Cord’s regular driver, Phil.

“Phil has taken over for the lease company’s chauffeur, and he’s already familiarized himself with the route.” Cord checked his watch. “Barring mechanical trouble or a traffic crisis, we’ll get you to the school right on schedule.”

About forty minutes later, they pulled into the school’s driveway. Hunter had called to announce when they were only five minutes away, and a small entourage was waiting at the sidewalk to greet them.

“Ms. Harding, it’s such a pleasure to meet you.”

Hunter smiled and extended her hand to a thin, balding man who’d quickly dabbed his perspiring head and face as she’d stepped from the vehicle. It was as warm here as it was in Texas, but she suspected nerves had a great deal to do with his condition. She gave him an especially warm smile in the hopes of relaxing him. “It’s an honor to be asked to join you.”

“I’m John Updike, unfortunately no relation to the original, but proudly principal of Mahwah High. And this is Denise Whitley, our office manager, and tonight’s amazing program chair.”

“Mr. Updike, Ms. Whitley. I know these events are enormous undertakings and a scheduling challenge.” By the time Hunter shook hands with them, Cord had joined the group. “I’d like you to meet Cord Yarrow Rivers of Yarrow Communications, which owns KSIO. As I explained on the phone earlier, state-breaking news forced me to miss my earlier commercial flight. That’s when Mr. Rivers and his grandfather, Henry Yarrow, insisted on getting me up here on the corporate jet.”