by Whitney G.
“Tell them I have another meeting to go to this afternoon.” He brushed his lips against my cheek. “I’ll see you tonight.”
I brought a glass of water to my lips and sighed. I was sitting in the private room of Jardinière, an upscale restaurant in Hayes Valley. There were softly burning candles set on my table and a large red rose bouquet that read, “I’m very sorry that you’re alone right now. I promise I’ll make it up to you—Jonathan.”
“Would you like to have a glass of wine while you wait, Miss?” the waiter asked.
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
He gave me a sympathetic smile and walked away.
I’d been sitting alone for thirty minutes, wondering exactly “how late” Jonathan was going to be.
He’d texted me right after work, letting me know that his board meeting was going to be “a long one,” and that Greg would pick me up for our date tonight.
I scrolled through my phone again, hoping to see a text from him, but I felt his hand rub against my bare back; felt him pressing a kiss against my shoulder.
“Good evening, Claire.”
“Hi...” My body immediately came to life, reacting to his sexy voice and his gentle touch.
He kissed my neck and whispered softly in my ear, “Are you wearing anything underneath this?” He tugged at the low cut on the back of my dress.
I shook my head and he let out an approving, “Hmmm,” before taking a seat across from me.
“How was your meeting?” I asked.
“It was unnecessarily long and dry as usual. I’ll be happy when this IPO is behind me. I don’t think I can—” His eyes met mine and he sucked in a breath. He reached over the table and clasped my hand. “What’s wrong with you?”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Glad to see to you’ve arrived safely, Mr. Statham.” The waiter stepped over to our table. “What wine will you two be having tonight?”
“Could you give us a second please?” Jonathan kept his eyes on me as the waiter disappeared. “Your eyes are red, and I’m pretty sure your mascara is supposed to be on your eyelashes, not underneath your eyes. You’ve been crying?”
“No, I have really bad allergies.” I reached into my purse for my compact mirror. “I swear, this time of year always gets to me. There’s so much pollen in the—”
“Stop lying to me, Claire.”
I sighed. “It’s not that big of a deal. It was an angry cry.”
“About me being late?”
“No...I—”
“Let’s go.” He stood up and reached for my hand. “We can talk in the car.”
I leaned against him as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and walked me out of the restaurant.
Valet pulled his car to the front as soon as we approached, and as usual, he helped me into my seat and waited until I was comfortable before speeding away.
I didn’t know where he was taking me and I honestly didn’t care. If we rode around aimlessly for the rest of the night I would be happy with that.
We sped through the city streets, past all the glimmering lights. When we came to a stop sign, he looked over at me. “Do you plan on ever talking?”
“I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t be punished if I did.”
He rolled his eyes. “Good to know it’s not that serious.”
“It’s not.” I shook my head. “My daughters are taking a flight to Anaheim later tonight...It’s their baby stepbrother’s birthday, so their dad called at the last minute. He said he wanted them to join him and his ho at Disneyland tomorrow.”
“You’re upset because they’re going?”
“No, he’ll always be their dad and he can see them whenever he wants...I’m upset because he waited until the very last minute to mention it. We have an arrangement, and I know he didn’t buy those plane tickets yesterday, you know?”
“I see. Well, that’s understandable. Do I need to have you home early so you can drop them off at the airport?”
“No. Their grandmother always takes them to and from the airport...”
“Hmmm...” He looked concerned.
“It’s not that big of a deal. I’m not that upset, I promise. I just hate when he calls—hate that he still exists...I’m sure hanging with you tonight will keep my mind off—”
“What’s your favorite movie?”
“Anastasia. Why?”
“The cartoon?”
I nodded. “Yeah, but—”
“And you laughed at me about Harry Potter?” He rolled his eyes and made a sudden U-turn, driving in the other direction. “Have you eaten anything since lunch?”
I shook my head and he pulled out his phone. “Greg? Miss Gracen and I would like to see a movie...No, dinner will need to be delivered—no seafood...Yes, that would be perfect actually...Anastasia...Yes, I’m aware that it’s animated...An hour more than likely...Thank you.”
“You shut down movie theaters too?” I looked at him as he put his phone away.
“Something like that...” He pulled over at a small convenience store. “I’ll be right back. Do you want anything out of here?”
I shook my head and he kissed me before walking away. As I sat in the car alone, I wondered if he was really capable of shutting down a theater just so he and I could watch a film that was thirteen years old.
I leaned back in the seat and shut my eyes, thinking about “us” once again. I was starting to believe that this thing we had might actually go somewhere—even though I was still afraid to completely embrace it. I was starting to believe that—
“Claire, stop it right now.” Jonathan got back in the car and I opened my eyes.
“Stop what?”
“You know what you were doing.” He handed me a small carton of mint chocolate chip ice cream and a pink spoon. “I figured this would help cheer you up a bit. It’s going to be a long drive and you might get hungry on the way...”
I smiled, shocked that he’d actually remembered my favorite comfort food. “Tell me the truth. Do you really record our phone conversations?”
“No, Claire.” He revved up the car. “I just have a good memory. It’s also pretty hard to forget anything about you.”
He drove away into the night and I savored every bite of that ice cream; it always did make me feel better.
As the car cruised out of the city, I started to wonder where the hell we were going. We weren’t anywhere near a movie theater—or civilization for that matter. There was nothing but open fields of grass everywhere I looked.
I thought about asking him where he was taking me, but I knew he wouldn’t tell me. I looked over at him and he placed his hand on my thigh, gently caressing it as he drove.
I started to shut my eyes, but the car came to a sudden stop in front of a huge white billboard.
“Did you run out of gas or something?” I stretched my arms up. “Do we need to start walking?”
“No. Get in the back seat.”
I didn’t move. I didn’t understand why I needed to get in the backseat for him to drive the rest of the way to the movies, didn’t understand why he’d changed our plans from a night at the theater to random car sex.
“I swear...” He pressed a button and the top of the convertible folded down. He stepped out of the car and moved to my side, picking me up and placing me in the backseat.
He slid in next to me and began fiddling with a black device.
I was thinking of something smart to say, fixing my mouth to ask a myriad of questions, but out of nowhere, a projector light flashed onto the blank billboard, and the opening credits of Anastasia began to play. The sound seemed to be coming from all around us, but I couldn’t see where the speakers were.
“I figured that since you’re still hesitant about being seen in public together, we could watch the movie this way.” He kissed my cheek. “Plus, the chairs here recline a lot further than they do in the regular theater...” He tapped a button and our seats slowly set back. He slid closer a
nd wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “I’m sure we’ll take advantage of them after our dinner gets here.”
I snuggled up to his chest and kissed him. “Or we could take advantage of them now...”
Chapter 20
Jonathan
“I think that went rather well,” my mother said as our therapist left the office.
“It did...” I wasn’t sure if it was because we were actually sorting out our issues, or if being with Claire so much made me calmer, but my mother and I had completed several therapy sessions without blowing up on one another.
She pulled a purse over her shoulder and stood up. “Did I tell you I got a raise last week?”
“No...You have a job?”
She nodded. “I didn’t want to say anything until I was past the probation period, but—”
“You don’t have to work.”
“I know, but I need something that’ll occupy my time and keep me on the straight and narrow. I don’t want to fall back into my old habits.”
Jesus...She really is trying to stay clean this time...
“Would you like a ride? I can have Greg take you. Where is it exactly?”
“No, I’m fine. I’m in a buddy program; my ride should be here in any second. It’s a small shop near the eastern docks. It has the most amazing view of the ocean.”
I stepped around my desk and gave her a hug. “I’m proud of you...” I wanted to say more, to say that I would meet her down there some time for lunch, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it.
I couldn’t let myself hope that she would actually change for good; she’d let me down way too many times for that.
My secretary buzzed my intercom. “Mr. Statham? I have—”
“I thought I said absolutely no interruptions today.” I groaned. “I told you I was going to be extremely busy and can’t afford to—”
“It’s Miss Gracen, sir.”
“Oh...I’m sorry, Angela. Send her in please.”
I let go of my mother and noticed that she was raising her eyebrow, looking as if I owed her some type of explanation.
“Who is she?” she asked.
“Who’s who?”
“The woman who clearly has more privileges than I do...I’ve been turned away numerous times with the ‘Mr. Statham isn’t available for any unscheduled meetings today’ line. Why is this woman so important?”
I sighed. “She’s my girlfriend.”
“Really? Can I meet her?” Her eyes lit up. “Please?”
“You can say Hello, and then you can say Goodbye.”
“Jonathan, I—”
“We’re not there yet. Don’t try to force it.”
She gritted her teeth. “Fine...”
Forget it. She doesn’t deserve to meet Claire.
I reached for her hand so I could walk her out, but the door to my office had already opened.
Claire sauntered in wearing a fitted navy blue dress and a light beige jacket, with matching high heels that made her legs look even longer.
She smiled, and just like that, I forgot all about my annoying mother and the hectic day ahead.
“Good afternoon.” I walked over and kissed her on the cheek. “You look amazing...” I led her over to my mom. “This is my mother, Denise Statham. Mother, this is—”
“Claire,” my mom interrupted as she reached out for Claire’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. You’re absolutely gorgeous... Jonathan’s very lucky to have you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Statham.”
“I’ll see you next week, son.” My mom gave me one last hug and headed towards the back walls of my office, towards the private elevator.
I pulled Claire into my arms. “Is something wrong? Are you sick? It must be something fatal if you came up here during the hours when people might actually see you.”
She rolled her eyes. “We just wrapped up the sTablet so Mr. Barnes is letting us go home early. My phone died, so I figured I’d come tell you that before you thought I was ignoring you.”
“Good decision. I would take you out to lunch to celebrate, but I’m booked with meetings until six. Dinner? There’s a new bistro down at—”
“Mr. Statham?” Angela’s voice came over the intercom once more. “I hate to bother you again, but Miss Griffin is here with an emergency. She says it can’t wait another second.”
I sighed and stepped back. “Wait here. Don’t go anywhere.” I pulled out a chair for her and walked out of the room. “This better be an emergency, Vanessa.”
“It is. I don’t use that word lightly.”
I followed her down the hall into a conference room and sat down. “What is it?”
“The Noracorps transaction was approved by the board and we were about to fax it off to the bank, but we’re missing your signature on several documents. It’s kind of the most important one, don’t you think?”
“Oh.” That definitely would’ve been a disaster...
I took the folder from her hands and pulled out a pen, initialing every necessary blank, reading over highlighted paragraphs here or there.
“Do I need to sign off on these C-18 forms too?”
She batted her eyes. “Yes...”
Ugh, god...I started signing the blanks faster, purposely avoiding her flirty glances each time she cleared her throat.
Ever since she’d gotten upset with me after that late night meeting, I’d put some serious distance between us. I still spoke with her after meetings, still laughed at her witty jokes, but I never allowed myself to be alone with her for too long.
“You’re really not going to tell me your new girlfriend’s name?” She placed her hand over the documents.
“It’s none of your business.”
“I’m dating someone new...”
“That’s great.” I smiled. “I’m happy to hear that.” Ecstatic to hear that...
“His name is Paul Jordan and he owns a chain of mid-scale hotels. See? I told you his name now you can tell me hers.”
“What does the name of the woman I’m dating have to do with our acquisition of NoraCorps tomorrow? I thought signing these documents was the reason why you came up here.”
She sighed. “It was. Don’t forget that they’re going to be here in the morning. They want to get official copies of the bank’s approval forms. I think this may be the second best investment we’ve ever made.”
“Me too.” I stood up. “I’ll get here early tomorrow. I’ll have the chef make something for—”
“Is it the redhead who works in Marketing?” She grabbed my hand. “The director who did all that work for the sPhone blue?”
I raised my eyebrow.
“I saw you two holding hands in the garage late last night...She’s really pretty—stunning even...I just...” She shook her head. “All these years that I’ve been here, I’ve tried getting close to you, and you’ve always pushed me away...Why? Why am I not good enough for you?”
I couldn’t believe she was trying to pull this emotional bullshit with me. I remained stoic; I needed to choose my next words very carefully.
“I’m not like Audrey...” She reached up and ran her hands across my chest, making my skin crawl. “I’m not trying to use you or push you over the edge to get your money. I’m your friend and you can’t deny that we have undeniable chemistry...I’ve looked out for you ever since my father invested in your company. I even sat with Hayley through some of her skin grafting surgeries when you couldn’t be there...I’m not a dimwitted bimbo, a gold-digger, or a divorcée with kids whose trying to live out her cougar dreams and get you to marry her so she can run off with all your money after she divorces you. I’m not like —”
“Excuse me?”
She bit her lip and traced her fingertips along my mouth. “I’m just saying that I wouldn’t take advantage of you like some of the women you’ve been interested in. And even though I’m dating someone else now, whenever you come to your senses, I’ll—”
“Okay.” I grabb
ed her hand and moved it away. “Since you clearly don’t understand what the word ‘no’ means, let me help you with the exact definition: I am not interested in you. I will never be interested in you. I don’t give a damn what you think about whoever you assume I’m dating, but if she happens to be a divorcée with kids, she’s ten times better than you would ever be for me. I’m aware that me canceling the employee fraternization policy left you feeling confused about your imaginary status of “us,” but sexual harassment goes both ways and that policy is still in effect. Are we clear?”
I took her stunned silence and dropped jaw to be a yes.
“I’ll see you in the morning.” I turned away from her and walked out.
I headed to my office and took a deep breath. I was going to have to limit my interactions with Vanessa to business only until she got a grip on herself—maybe even avoid her completely.
I walked inside and pulled Claire to her feet. “I’m so sorry about that. What was I saying before?”
“Dinner...”
“Right. There’s a new restaurant down at Fisherman’s Wharf and I’d love to—”
“Rain check? I promised the girls I would make pasta tonight. Maybe we can—”
“I like pasta.”
“Oh. Well, I’ll bring the leftovers to work tomorrow. Do you want me to pack parmesan cheese with—”
“I can’t come over and have dinner with you and your family?”
“Um...”
“Um?” I narrowed my eyes at her. “What type of answer is that?”
“You want to meet my daughters?”
“Do they know I exist?”
She nodded.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Nothing...” She looked surprised. “Dinner is at seven.”
I pulled up to her house ten minutes early. I’d bought three custom bouquets of spring roses—one for Claire, one for Ashley and Caroline, and a large bottle of sparkling apple cider to share over dinner.
I walked up the steps and pressed the doorbell, smiling at the memory of the first time I’d done that in January.
Within seconds, one of her daughters opened the door. She tilted her head to the side, causing her wavy red hair to fall with her, and she blinked several times. She was the spitting image of Claire, only she had more dominant freckles on her cheeks and her eyes were a much paler green.
