Mid Life Love: At Last (21 page)

“I’m just asking for you to
see
her. Maybe even grab some lunch together next week? It’s one of her dying wishes and I’m doing my best to fulfill all of them.”

“
What
?! Are you out of your fucking mind?” I scoffed and left him sitting at the table. I couldn’t believe his nerve—to act as if I owed him or Amanda a damn thing, to have the audacity to even
ask
me to do
anything
for their benefit.

I stepped outside of the shop and opened my umbrella, walking over to my car in the pouring rain. As I unlocked the door, I felt strong hands on my shoulders—someone spinning me around. 

“Spare me this stupid ass act and stop being so fucking childish, Claire.” Ryan stood underneath my umbrella and gripped my arms.

“
Excuse me
?” My eyes widened. He wasn’t behaving anything like the Ryan I knew years ago—that Ryan would
never
grab me like this.

“Ryan...I—”

“You owe me twenty seconds.” He hissed. “
Twenty fucking seconds
and I’m going to use every last one of them. You honestly think marrying a billionaire means you don’t have to care about anything? You think it makes you a better person now? It doesn’t.”

“I guess being a
lying philanderer
does though, huh? Get the fuck off of me.” I raised my knee up, fully intending to kick him in his balls, but he grabbed my leg and moved it around his waist, holding it stiffly.

“Seriously, Claire? Were you trying to do what I think you were trying to do?”

“Save the human race from more bastard offspring?”

“When did you become such a
bitch
?” His eyes darkened. “Are you still that bitter about what happened between us?
Five years ago
? You clearly came out alright.” He glanced at my engagement ring.

“Get your hands
off
of me, Ryan.”

He didn’t move back. Instead he tightened his grip on my arm and leg and spoke slowly. “Listen to me, Claire.”

I considered spitting in his face, but for some reason I couldn’t muster enough saliva in my mouth.

“Amanda and I moved here so we could commute back and forth to St. Francis.”

The hospital?

He nodded as if he’d heard my thought. “She’s been working at that catering shop part time to keep her mind off of her upcoming treatment...” He sighed. “She has another brain tumor—a
malignant
one. We came here to get a second opinion and to try a new procedure because none of the doctors at home will touch it...” His voice cracked. “She just...She just wants to see you again, just in case—just...You never gave her a chance to say all she had to say.”

“She was fucking you behind my back! There was nothing left
to
say!” I tried to wriggle free again, but his grip was too tight. “Look. I honestly don’t wish her any ill-will, and as a human being I do hope whatever treatment she’s here for goes well. However,
personally
, you two don’t exist in my world anymore and her sickness has nothing to do with me. So, if you could please let me go and get back to whatever life you’ve built with Amanda that would be great. I’ve given you more than twenty seconds and I’m not giving you anymore.”

“She was your
best fucking friend
.”

“
Was
—just like I
was
your wife. Funny how one three-lettered word says so much, huh?”

His face turned red and it looked like he was about to really lose it, but he leaned in closer so that we were nose to nose— lip to lip. “Stop pretending like you don’t care, Claire. You do. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Are you sick too? Please tell me St Francis has you scheduled for a few nights in their psych ward—I’ve heard they give out Jell-O now. Is cherry still your favorite?”

“All you have to do is talk to her for five minutes. It won’t kill you.”

“
Yes
, it will. Now,
please
—”

I heard the shattering of glass to my right—heard it echoing through the wind and cutting through the sound of pelting raindrops.

I looked over and saw Jonathan standing underneath a black umbrella, holding onto a single white lily—the only one that hadn’t fallen to the ground.

I moved my leg from around Ryan’s waist, but he was still gripping my arm and pinning me against my car. I tried to catch my breath and find the right words to say to Jonathan, the words that would tell him that what he was seeing was just a huge misunderstanding. But the way he was looking at me told me that he wouldn’t believe a single word I said. 

The look on his face was one of anger, confusion,
hurt
. He looked over my fitted dress, at Ryan’s stance, at the small sliver of distance that was between the two of us.

“Get your fucking hands off of her.
Right now
.” His voice was colder than I’d ever heard it before.

Ryan immediately moved his hands and smiled an evil smile at me. It looked like he was about to say something rude, but Jonathan spoke first.

“If you value your life,
Hayes
—I suggest you get the fuck out of my sight before I take it away.”

Ryan looked at Jonathan and rolled his eyes, slowly backing away from underneath my umbrella, stepping out into the rain.

I watched him fade into the rush of umbrella holders that were now rushing out into the parking lot. I turned to face Jonathan again and realized he was still staring at me, looking as if I’d just broken his heart.

He bent down to pick up the white envelope that was on top of the shattered vase and flowers. Then he slowly strolled over to me and placed the single lily he was holding and that card on top of my car.

He narrowed his eyes at me and opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

“Jonathan...” I could see the hurt in his eyes. “Let me explain...You
know
exactly how I feel about—”

He walked away before I could finish my sentence.

––––––––

I
rushed over to Jonathan’s office and stopped at Angela’s desk. I’d tried to run after him in the parking lot minutes ago, but he’d slipped away.

“
Miss Gracen
?” She looked up at me. “Are you
okay
? Would you like me to have someone bring you a set of dry clothes? A cup of hot coffee perhaps?”

I shook my head. I was drenched from head to toe, but I was too distressed to feel anything.

“I need to speak to Jonathan.”

She sighed and looked down at her hands. “He’s not accepting any unscheduled appointments.”

“
Bullshit
, Angela. He’s back there and you know it. Tell him I’m here.
Now
.”

She picked up her phone. “Mr. Statham? I...Yes sir...” She put the phone down. “He told me to tell you to go home.”

I swallowed and pulled my phone out of my pocket, calling him for the tenth time since I’d left Starbucks.

It didn’t even ring twice. He hit ignore.

“Angela,
please
...” I knew she had the only other key to his door. “Could you just let me in and I’ll deal with whatever he says?”

“I’m sorry, Miss Gracen. I can’t afford to lose this job. He made the orders very clear.” She pulled a notepad and an envelope from her drawer. “I can make sure he gets your message though. I’ll make sure he reads it.”

I felt tears falling down my face and nodded to say ‘Thank you.’ I scribbled down my message, signing it with an ‘I love you’ and then I slowly drove myself home. Alone.

And I kept driving myself to the same empty house for the rest of the week...

J
onathan

I don’t have shit to say.

J
onathan

I stared out my office window, watching heavy sheets of rain fall over the city. As hard as I tried to rationalize what I’d seen in that parking lot, I couldn’t help but feel hurt.

My heart damn near broke at the sight of seeing her with someone else, but once I realized it was him—her
ex-husband
, it practically shattered. 

Why didn’t she call me?

I knew there had to be a logical explanation—some type of
reason
, so I picked up my phone to call her, but there was already a call waiting.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Statham?” It was a high pitched voice. Miss Corwin.

“Good afternoon, Miss Corwin. Can I help you with something?”

“Yes, I um...I’ve been leaving messages with your fiancée, but she hasn’t gotten back to me. I’ll be staying in town for the next few weeks, so would you mind leaving me a wedding invitation with your secretary? I asked Miss Gracen to mail me one, but she probably forgot.”

“When was this?”

“When was
what
?”

“When did you ask her to mail you the invitation?” I knew damn well we’d made her one. In fact, we’d made her
ten
, just in case she wanted to incorporate them into the reception space somehow.

“Um...Well, I asked her that night you came to L.A., remember? And I called her two weeks ago about it.”

“And you never received it?”

“No...” Her voice was soft. “I’m sorry if I’m causing you any trouble...”

“It’s no trouble. I’ll have it delivered to you personally.”

“Thank you...”

I hung up and called Milton.

“I’m
on my way
to your office, Jonathan.” He picked up on the first ring. “No need to act like you actually give a damn about my financial reports today.”

“That’s not why I’m calling.”

“Of course it isn’t. What do you want?”

“Have you received my wedding invitation in the mail yet?”

There was a sudden knock on my door and I walked over to answer it.

“Would you like me to keep talking into the phone?” Milton walked into my office. “It wouldn’t surprise me if you did.”

“Did you receive a wedding invitation?”

He shrugged. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m pretty sure, but I don’t need one of those to be there if that’s why you’re asking...”

I shook my head. “No...I’m just...I’m just wondering.”

He asked me to give him a few minutes to get his files organized and I took a seat at my desk. I sent out a text to five people, five people who I knew I had
personally
told Claire to invite—addresses and all, and waited for them to tell me if they had received their invitation in the mail.

Their responses came back instantly: “No.” “No...” “No.” “I need an invitation to get in?” “No.”

What the fuck?!

I prepared to text Angela to get to the bottom of it, but I accidentally hit my email app and saw a message labeled: URGENT. It was from our cake designer:

To: Statham, Jonathan

From: Elegant Cakes, Inc.

Mr. Statham,

My name is Jacqueline Russell and I am the manager of Elegant Cakes. Per my conversation with your fiancée two weeks ago, I wanted to make sure that you were canceling your complete order which includes: One five tiered wedding cake, two three tiered dream cakes, and the customized frozen anniversary cake.

Since your name is on the contract and we have your signature on file, we’ll need you to verify that this information is correct.

We’re sorry we won’t be able to work with you on your special day,

Sincerely,

Jacqueline R.

My mind was officially blown. I couldn’t believe this shit.

“Jonathan? Jonathan?” Milton cleared his throat. “Are you there?”

I shook my head and sighed. “Go ahead...”

“Okay...” Milton handed me a folder. “Inside that folder, you’ll see that I’ve outlined your current assets, totaled your domestic and foreign bank accounts, and appraised the company’s future earnings. As you can clearly see, the future Mrs. Statham’s name is nowhere to be found because well...She did not contribute to you gaining any of these things so...”

“I thought this was a
strategy
meeting.” I rolled my eyes.

“
It is
. Angela informed me that you’ve cancelled all your appointments with the marital attorney as of this morning. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“Well, maybe you’re not thinking straight... Let me help you out: Your net worth as of this quarter is nine point eight
billion
. Your
net worth
. We live in California, a
fifty-fifty
split state.”

“Milton...”

“That means that if you should ever get a divorce, your-ex-wife will automatically be entitled to over
four billion dollars
. If you last for more than ten years and your earnings continue to grow like they have in the past, you’re looking at handing over seven to eight billion
easily
. Do you understand that?”

“I do.”

“Glad to hear that. I’ll arrange for the attorney to come back.”

“There’s not going to be a pre-nup, Milton.”

His jaw dropped. “I thought you just said you agreed with me.”

“There can’t be a pre-nup if I’m not getting married...”

“What?” He gasped. “You two were just here weeks ago telling me about the wedding venue...It’s
over
?”

I didn’t answer him.

“Jonathan?”

I sighed. “I’ll call you later tonight to go over that mistake in the master file you mentioned at this morning’s meeting. I have a feeling we’ll need more than one accounting team to sort that out.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but then he shook his head. He took his folder back and patted me on my shoulder before leaving my office.

As soon as the door closed, I leaned back in my chair and shut my eyes.

I can’t believe this shit...What the fuck is Claire thinking?

I didn’t want to jump to any conclusions about the wedding, about marrying Claire, but invitation and cake bullshit aside—what she’d pulled last week had rocked me to my core.

At first, I didn’t want to believe that I’d seen her and Ryan inside of Starbucks when I drove by. I
refused
to believe it. So, I’d driven around the parking lot, telling myself that Claire—
my
Claire, would have called me the second Ryan showed up anywhere near her. Like she
promised
.