Which was all that mattered. She didn’t need credit or praise—she just needed to stay in her lane for a little bit longer, a carpenter who built shit and that was it. Nothing to live up to, no one to disappoint.
She repeated all of this to herself every time her pride threatened to spill over. Astrid was the sole designer. This arrangement was better for everyone involved. There was also the fact that Natasha didn’t strike Jordan as a woman who put up with any amount of bullshit, and lying to her for the past couple of weeks about the origin of the design she found so inspired? Well, that sounded like bullshit to Jordan.
Plus, Astrid had been working just as hard as Jordan, mostly on administrative and logistical stuff, all the shit Jordan had no head for.She was integral to this project, there was no denying it. Watching Astrid in action, her quick decision-making, the way she solved a problem before it became a catastrophe, like when their supplier sent the wrong clawfoot tub for the master bathroom—copper instead of bronzed nickel—was pretty badass.
And a little bit of a turn-on, if Jordan was being honest.
“And cut,” Emery called out. “Okay, everyone, that’s a wrap for today.”
Jordan felt her shoulders drop, all that on-camera tension falling away. She said goodbye to Josh and his crew as they headed out the back door, while Emery, Natasha, and Regina retreated to a corner to go over details for Monday.
“Oh my god.”
At the familiar voice, Jordan’s heart did something semi-embarrassing, but she smiled at Astrid standing in the kitchen’s doorway.
“What do you think?” Jordan asked, spreading her arms to indicate the space. “Not bad, huh?”
Astrid shook her head, gazing around the room. “It’s... Jordan, this is amazing.” Her gaze settled on Jordan, her mouth open. Something sad spilled into her eyes, something Jordan couldn’t put a finger on. She honestly wasn’t sure if she wanted to. She was well aware this professional arrangement, blended with what was going on with them personally, was a precarious mix.
“You okay?” Jordan asked.
Astrid nodded, but her throat bobbed in a hard swallow. Jordan watched her shake it off and walk over to her. She leaned in for a kiss, and shit, Jordan very nearly acquiesced, but froze when she remembered three members ofInnside America’s crew were standing in a corner.
And they were all staring at Jordan and Astrid.
Jordan cleared her throat, and Astrid followed her gaze, inhaling a surprised breath when she spotted the other people in the room behind her.
Natasha had her arms folded, with what could only be described as a smirk on her face.
“Yeah,” Emery said slowly. “Okay, I think it’s time to head out.”
“I’d say so,” Regina said, who looked just as uncomfortable as Emery.
“I need to get home too,” Jordan said, gathering her tools into her toolbox. She didn’t need to get home. What she needed was Astrid’s mouth on hers, but getting out of this kitchen felt more pressing at the moment.
“Same,” Astrid said, smoothing her hands down her black shorts. “I—”
“Oh no,” Natasha said, shaking her head. “You two aren’t going anywhere.”
Astrid and Jordan exchanged a look but didn’t dare move. Jordan had the distinct feeling she’d just been called into the principal’s office.
Emery and Regina didn’t even bother dealing with the equipment, opting instead to bolt through the swinging door as fast as possible. Once they were gone, Natasha didn’t budge. She simply stared at Jordan and Astrid for a solid minute.
“Anything you want to tell me?” she finally said.
Jordan didn’t dare look Astrid’s way, but she could feel her radiating stress like a furnace.
“Like what?” Jordan asked.
They had to be careful here. Jordan was sure Natasha was referring to the fact that Jordan and Astrid were clearly about to make out, and not that Astrid was pretending to be the lead designer in a major televised project, but still. Either truth felt suddenly disastrous when Natasha Rojas shot her glare your way.
“Okay, so we’re going to play coy,” Natasha said. “I’ll just come right out and ask then. How long have you two been fucking?”
Astrid spluttered, then coughed, her hand flying to her chest like a southern damsel. Jordan would’ve laughed and given her shit for it had Natasha not been in the room.
“We’re not fucking,” Jordan said, which was actually the truth.
“Fine, sorry, maybe that was a bit too crass,” Natasha said, waving her hand. “How long have you two been gazing longingly in each other’s eyes anddreamingabout fucking?”
