“My name is Jordan.”
Meredith watched her for a second, sadness filling her expression.She’d been calling her “Jo” since they were in eighth grade. “Okay. Jordan. I know you may not want to hear this, or maybe you just don’t give a shit about yourself, butIstill care about you. I’m just trying to understand, because—”
“It’s not your business to understand anymore.”
“—the design is breathtaking.”
That gave Jordan pause. “Breathtaking.”
Meredith nodded, her eyes shining with what Jordan could only describe as pride. “Breathtaking. Truly, Jordan. It’s astounding. It’syou. So sue me for wondering why you’re handing over all the credit to someone else. And on a nationally televised show, no less.”
“Because sheisa designer. I don’t want the credit, and she does. She needs it. And she’s working just as hard as I am to make sure this all comes together. It’s not like she’s just sitting back and sipping mojitos while I sweat.”
Meredith’s mouth hung open. “So you’re telling me that a woman you’re sleeping with—”
“I’m not sleeping with her.”
Meredith frowned. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure you just made her come in a pantry.”
Jordan’s face heated. “That’s... that’s not... okay, but that was the first time that happened, and...” She swiped a hand through her hair. “Fuck, this is none of your business.”
“Okay, let me rephrase,” Meredith said, clearly ignoring the part about what was and was not her business. “You’re telling me that the woman you just made come in a pantry somehow convinced you to hand over your brilliant design for your family inn, stamp it with her name,and take the credit as lead designer for an episode in a major design show. Do I have that right?”
Jordan’s stomach tightened into a coil. “You’re twisting it around. When you say it like that, it sounds horrible.”
“It is horrible, Jordan. How can you not see that?”
Jordan shook her head. It wasn’t horrible, it was... a partnership. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement. It was...
Fuck, the look on Meredith’s face—herMeredith, the girl who was constantly one-upping their math teachers throughout school, finding every hole in logic, the woman who soared through her architectural program and who always knew what Jordan was feeling a split second before Jordan herself figured it out. She knew that look.
But Astrid was... she wasAstrid.The adorable, vampire-toothed baby queer who pulled Jordan into a room and told her she wanted to kissher, who’d spent every evening of the last week with Jordan. She hadn’t needed to do any of that. There was no way she actually manipulated Jordan into this whole scheme. There was no way she was using Jordan just to get what she wanted.
Was there?
Jordan knew Astrid was desperate for this project to go well. She knew her mother had some sort of emotional and professional hold over her. She knew Natasha Rojas’s opinion of Astrid could make or break her.
Uninspired.
That’s what Natasha had called Astrid’s original design plan... right before Astrid came to Jordan suggesting a partnership. Before Astrid flat-out denied any romantic involvement when Natasha asked...
No. No, no, so much other stuff had happened before that, after that. There was no way this was all contrived.
Jordan’s throat ballooned. Air. She couldn’t find it. Couldn’t breathe.
“Okay, okay, it’s all right,” she heard Meredith say. “Sit down. Put your head between your legs.”
Suddenly, Jordan was on the floor, forehead pressed against her knees, Meredith’s hand rubbing soothing circles on her back.
“It’s okay,” Meredith said again. “It’s not too late. You can still fix this.”
Jordan’s head popped up. “I don’t... this isn’t what I want.”
“What’s not?”
She waved a hand at the kitchen. “I just want the Everwood to be the Everwood. I want something that feels true to its history.”
“I know,” Meredith said, sitting down across from her and folding her legs. “And your design is true to that. But you have to see that you can’t let Astrid take that away from you.”
