Page 2 of A Suite Temptation
But there was no humor on Matthew’s face as he reached out and punched Jordan hard on the side of the head. Jordan’s teeth rattled. “You fucking idiot. Do you have any idea how close you got to having to front a local judge? And unlike all the other times when either Bryce or I bailed you out from jail, if you had ended up in court, there would’ve been no hiding a prison sentence from Mom and Dad.”
The only good part of having such a terrible hangover was that Jordan barely felt the punch. His ear and cheek were stinging, but the rest of his body hurt so much it made little difference. The threat of Edward and Alice Royal discovering the truth of their middle son’s latest transgression pained him more. Jordan was the undisputed black sheep of the family. A constant source of shame.
“I’m sorry, Matthew.” His half-baked apology sounded hollow and trite. He’d offered it too many times for either of them to believe it. “Um. Do you have any idea what happened last night? Things are kinda patchy in my brain. I don’t remember much of anything between leaving Jackson Hole and then waking up alone in the jail cell.”
Yesterday afternoon, Jordan had been attending an economic summit in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. He hadn’t actually made it to any of the formal sessions, rather he’d embarked on a bar crawl with a couple of other pampered sons of commerce. Someone had a private jet at their disposal, and the lure of mischief was too great to resist.
Jordan racked his brains. He couldn’t even remember who he’d been with last night, or what sort of drugs he had taken. The booze however would have been his usual, vodka shots … and keep ’em coming. The cold light of day was having its spiteful revenge.
I feel really dizzy. God, I hope it’s just from low blood sugar.
Matthew brushed his fingers over his soft, bushy beard. “You had a busy night, Jordan. According to the rap sheet, which was short but quite spicy, you stole a tractor. You then took it on a cross country rampage where you crashed it through several fences, before finally drowning it in a farm dam. The tractor wasDOA, and they are still fixing the fences.”
That explains the strands of strange, damp weed in the pockets of my pants.
“How much?”
If the authorities had dropped the charges against him, it must have been because the farmer didn’t want to press the issue. And the only way this whole thing would have been made to go away was because someone had handed over some serious House of Royal cash.
The look on Matthew’s face was one of great sibling displeasure. His brother hated waste of any kind.
“Twenty four grand for the tractor. From what I understand, the farmer was more than happy about that as he has a brand new John Deere arriving later today to replace his eighteen year old work horse. Fortunately he only asked for a few hundred bucks for the fence. According to our team of lawyers, the guy seemed pretty pleased about getting a new tractor. Said to tell you thanks, and that if you wanted to wreck any more tractors, he knew some guys who would be more than willing to take your money.” Matthew made a great show of loudly clearing his throat. “Sorry,Dad’smoney.”
For the sort of immense wealth that the Royal family had at its disposal, the settlement funds were a drop in the ocean. But for Jordan the fallout from his little misadventure could have cost him dearly. It would be bad enough if the local press got a hold of it, but if word got back to New York City, to his father … another wave of nausea washed over him. This time it was more than just a hangover. It was embarrassment. The knowledge that he was a constant disappointment to the House of Royal.
The sooner he got out of Iowa, the better.
The warmth of the August sun was beating down on his head. His body was at war with itself. He was either going to pass out or throw up. Or both.
I stink. I’m hungry, and I just want to go home.
“I’m sorry Matt, and I promise you can punish me all you like once I am feeling human again. Just please for the love of all that is holy, tell me you came in one of the company jets.”
Not only couldn’t he imagine trying to get on board a commercial flight in his current disgusting state, but he had no idea where the nearest town was, let alone a proper airport.
Matthew appearing to finally take pity on him, nodded. “Yes, it’s at a local aeroclub. Come on, you can wash up on the plane. I’ll see if I can find some clean clothes for you.”
Jordan’s luggage was still in a hotel suite in Jackson Hole, but he wasn’t game to ask Matthew to make such a large detour rather than head straight back to NYC. He would get someone from Royal Resorts to call the hotel later and make the necessary arrangements to retrieve his belongings.
His brother pointed at Jordan’s stained jacket. “You might want to take that off and place the… clean-ish inner lining face down on the seat of the hire car. Oh, and take your shoes off. I’m not paying for an extra cleaning fee.”
Fearing his brother would make him strip completely, Jordan sheepishly did as he was told. He climbed into the passenger seat of the small rental car, and casually adjusted his sunglasses. “Come on let’s get out of here.”
Matthew climbed into the driver seat. He glanced at Jordan and shook his head in disgust. He was still shaking his head as he turned the car out of the parking lot and onto the main road.
When Jordan caught sight of the Royal Resorts corporate jet a short time later, he let out a large sigh of relief. The sooner he was on board, and they were in the skies, the better. The plane would have catering of some sort, and he could wash some of the shame of last night off his skin in the private bathroom.
I can’t wait to get home to New York and climb into my bed. Sleep.
Filthy shoes in hand, he followed Matthew up the steps of the jet. But the moment he set foot into the main cabin, his blood turned to ice.
Seated in the first of the luxury white leather armchairs was Alice Royal.
His mother rose, gave a nod to Matthew, then turned her steely gaze on Jordan. “Don’t bother attempting to blame your brother for me being here. When he tried to change the flight plan for the jet from Greece to Iowa, a call was immediately made to Janice. Fortunately for you, your father’s EA decided I might be the lesser of two evils, so I was the one she messaged.”
Jordan swallowed down a lump of dread. He had dodged a major bullet. If Edward Royal had been informed of Jordan’s arrest, there was every chance he would have let his middle son sit and stew in a prison cell for the next few days. His father was big on giving him ample time to think on his sins.
And I’ve done a lot of thinking over the years. Not that any of it has done me much good. I’ll never live up to family expectations.