Mid Life Love (9 page)

I was still
hypnotized by Jonathan’s touch and honestly wished that it hadn’t ended so
soon.

When he finally
returned to the table, he talked to us as if we’d all known each other for a
long time. Much to my surprise—and disappointment, he didn’t touch me again.

––––––––

J
onathan put his
jacket over my shoulders. “Where’d you park? I’ll walk you to your car.”

“The east lot.”

“Okay.” He
clasped my hand and we walked over in silence. He helped me into my car and
before I could drive off, he tapped the window.

“You never told
me where you wanted to meet me tomorrow.” He smiled. “Did you forget already?”

“Oh no, I
just...Um, how about doing an early run with a great view of the city? Around
eight?”

“That sounds
great. Where?”

“Corona Heights
Park?”

“I’ll see you
there.” He pulled a small box from his back pocket and handed it to me. “Happy
Birthday again, Claire.”

“Thank you.” I
tried not to blush as I rolled my window up.

As soon as I
pulled in front of my house, I opened the box and peeled the thin layer of
tissue paper away. There was a note:
“To the most beautiful woman I’ve ever
met: Give me a chance to show you how great we could be together—Jonathan.”

I rolled my eyes
and pulled out what was underneath: a diamond lattice bracelet that looked like
it cost more than my house.

I latched it
onto my wrist and watched it sparkle against the darkness, wondering when I
would ever wear something like this out in public.

I wasn’t sure
whether I should keep it or not, but I knew I would give it back if I chose not
to date him for the long term.

I looked down at
the box again and noticed that there was a tightly folded piece of paper at the
very bottom. I used my nails to pry it out and unfolded it: a page from the
Statham Industries’ employee handbook.

Highlighted in
yellow were the words, “Revised as of January 2013: The no fraternization
clause is hereby terminated. Interpersonal relationships between employees are
no longer a violation of company policy.”

––––––––

I
woke up at six
in the morning, practically dragging Ashley and Caroline from their beds. No
matter how many times I suggested that they go to bed early on nights that they
had work in the morning, they never listened.

“Do you have
your ID badges? You know I’m not driving out there to bring them if you don’t.”

“Yeah, yeah.”
They both groaned as they zombie-walked down the steps.

I watched them
take their time getting ready for work—ironing their white polo shirts and
khakis, re-shining their leather flats, and arguing about whose turn it was to
drive.

“Ashley, I’m
pretty sure it’s your turn.” I sighed after watching them conduct yet another
coin toss. “Please drive safely and—”

“
Stay
together
.” Caroline groaned. “We’re sixteen, not
six
, mom. See you
later.”

“Have a great
day at work.” I shooed them out of the house and waited until their car coasted
down the hill. 

I rushed
upstairs to my bathroom and changed into my most flattering workout outfit—a
black and pink cotton pantsuit that clung to my curves, and matching black
tennis shoes.

“Claire Gracen,
this is not a date. It’s just an outing. A regular outing.” I looked at myself
in the mirror. “Do not show any signs of attraction. Do not agree to any dates
past today. This is only because he made you cum on the dance floor last night
and you lost control...That’s the only reason you’re going to this thing. After
today, this goes back to being a strictly professional relationship.”

I headed outside
and revved up my car, cutting through the city streets to make it to the edge
of the park. I drove through the lot and spotted a beautiful silver Jaguar that
I assumed was Jonathan’s.

How many
ridiculously expensive cars does he own?

“Good morning.”
He stepped out of the car and smiled at me. “How are you feeling today?”

“Great. You?”

“Perfect. Do you
want to walk or run through the trail?”

“I want to run.”

“All five
miles?” He tossed a jacket into his car. “Are you sure?”

“Are you not in
shape? Would you prefer if we
drove
through the trail instead?”

He laughed. “I’m
in excellent shape, Claire. I was just making sure you have the stamina to keep
up with me.” He gave me a wicked grin and I immediately turned away and started
running. 

He was at my
side within seconds and together we sprinted through the clay trail, weaving
through the clove of trees. We kept pace with one another, never stopping to
catch a breath.

Every now and
then I could feel him looking over at me, maybe even smiling at me, but I was
too focused on making it to the end of the trail to return his gazes.

Running had a
way of calming my nerves, making me feel at peace, and I couldn’t focus on much
else when my feet were hitting the pavement. 

Once I crossed
the five mile marker, I stopped and held my knees. I heard Jonathan slightly
panting next to me.

“Most women I
know can’t run one mile without stopping, let alone five...” He sounded
impressed. “Have you always been a runner?”

“Hell no.” I
sank down to the ground and stretched my legs. “I used to hate running...I’ve
only been doing it for the past four years. How long have you been running?”

“All my life.”
He slid his shirt over his head, revealing a sweaty set of washboard abs. He
sat down next to me. “It’s one of the few things I’m very good at.”

There seemed to
be a double meaning behind his words, and a part of me wanted to ask him to
explain it, but I remembered the speech I’d given myself earlier. I didn’t need
to pry into his personal life because I didn’t want to give him the wrong impression.

I cleared my
throat. “Oh...Well that sounds very—”

“How old are
your daughters, Claire? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Sixteen.”

“They’re
twins
?” He raised his eyebrow. “Are they identical?”

I nodded. “Yeah,
I couldn’t really tell them apart until they were three. That’s when they
started developing their own little personalities and—”

Whoa. Overshare.
Stick to basic information...

“You plan on
ever finishing that sentence?” He smiled.

I didn’t
respond. Between the beads of sweat that were trickling down his sculpted
chest, his gorgeous eyes, and that ‘I-know-damn-well-you-want-me’ smile, I was
trapped.

I slowly stood
up and dusted the dirt off the back of my pants. “Um...we should probably head
back now. I think we should run again.”

“So you won’t
have to talk to me?”

Yes.

“No, that’s not
it. I’m sure you have a million other things you could be doing right now so—”

“Not at all. I
cleared my whole morning for you.”

Damnit...

“That was...” I
looked away from him. “That was very nice of you, but I only have time for a
run so—”

“Claire, you
told me you were free last night, and I’m pretty sure nothing has changed
between two a.m. and now. You and I are on a
date
, which means that
since we’re not getting lunch or dinner, we are going to walk back
together
.
Then our “miserable” date that I apparently
forced
you to come on will
end, and you can pretend like you actually have some work to do.”

I tried not to
smile, but I couldn’t help it. “As long as we’re done by noon. I
do
have
some things I have to do today.”

“Like what?”

“I have to sort
through some more
s
Phone blue ideas for the upcoming campaign. Mr.
Barnes wants us to pick a favorite by Monday and that’s going to take a
miracle...”

“Speaking of
which, why do you hate your job?”

“Telling
the
CEO
why I hate my job? I don’t think so.”

“I won’t take it
personal.” He motioned for me to start walking beside him. “I really want to
know.”

“No you don’t.”
I laughed.

“Tell me.”

I sighed. “In a
nutshell: the employee benefits suck, cars should never be towed off the lot, directors
should be allowed at least fifteen hours overtime a month, and working two
years just to be eligible for one week of vacation? That’s ridiculous. Oh, and
what’s the point in offering free coffee if there’s hardly ever any, and when
there is, it tastes like shit? Just don’t offer any and save your money. And
don’t get me started on that motivational idiot who made us put beanbags in our
offices and gave us “Zen” journals. I could’ve given you a much better way to
spend two million dollars.”

Jonathan stopped
walking and looked down at me, right into my eyes. He was quiet for a long
time, and then he burst into laughter. “Are you always this blunt?”

“You asked for
the truth.”

“I think I’ve
learned my lesson.” He smiled and started walking again.

I thought he
would ask me more questions, or that I would feel compelled to ask him a few to
make our walk easier, but I was actually enjoying the silence; I had the
feeling that he was too.

Before I knew
it, I could see the parking lot in the distance and the quarter mile marker
straight ahead.

Jonathan
followed me over to my car and before I could pull the door open, he gently
grabbed me by my shoulders and turned me around.

He looked into
my eyes again. “I know we didn’t talk much, but I had a great time today,
Claire.”

“Me too...”

Silence.

I felt his
fingers running through my damp hair, his hard chest pressed against mine.

My heart was
beating an entirely new rhythm and no matter how hard I tried to control it, it
only beat wilder and faster. 

“I’m going to be
in New York for a conference this week...” He readjusted my sweatband. “Can I
take you out to dinner when I get back on Saturday?”

NO...No, you don’t
want whatever he thinks this is to go any further...This does not need to turn
into an every-weekend thing. That is not happening...Turn away from him
and—

He raised his
eyebrow. “Claire?”

I nodded.

“I need you to
say it out loud.” He pushed my body against the car.

Silence.

He smiled.
“What? No smart-mouthed comments about dinner on Saturday?”

“I think we should
go Dutch...I don’t want you getting the wrong impression.”

“And what
impression would that be?”

“That I’m
attracted to you, because that still hasn’t changed.”

“You’re right.”
He slipped his arms around my waist. “I wouldn’t dare think that. Is that a yes
to Saturday?”

“It’s a maybe.”

I heard him
laugh and then I felt his lips brush against mine—softly, gently, as if he
didn’t want to completely kiss me. He slowly released me and stepped back.

“I’ll call you
while I’m in New York. We’re going to make sure that maybe becomes a yes.”

J
onathan

Why did I ever
agree to come to this conference?

I sat in the
front row of the Four Seasons’ ballroom and sighed as other software techies
talked about their rise to fame and how they’d built their empires from the
ground up. Normally, this type of thing would excite and inspire me, but all
the techies this year were people I’d worked with before; I knew their success
stories like the back of my hand.

The only thing
different was the fact that I was the keynote speaker, and thousands of high
school students were invited to come watch.

As the CEO of
Apple, Inc. finished his speech, I clapped and made sure my speech was still in
my breast pocket.

“And now,” the
conference host said as he walked onstage, “for the final speech of the night.
Ladies and gentlemen, I am honored to introduce our keynote speaker. Over the
past nine years, he has become a force to be reckoned with in the software
industry—breaking almost every sales record when it comes to the latest
technology. His latest product, the
s
Phone blue, is due to debut this
spring and has already earned fifty million dollars in pre-order sales!”

The audience
clapped and my face appeared on the massive projector screens that flanked the
stage.

“Ladies and
gentlemen,” the host continued, “a man who needs no further introduction—CEO of
Statham Industries, Mr. Jonathan Statham!

I stood up and
made my way onto the stage, nodding at the standing ovation, waiting for the
crowd to sit back down.

“Thank you all
very much for inviting me to the annual Innovative Technology Conference.”  I
pulled my speech out of my pocket. “It’s an honor to be here, and I’ll do my
best not to bore you for the next twenty minutes.”

The audience
laughed.

I read my speech
off with ease, making eye contact with the people I knew in the crowd, bracing
myself for the worst part of being the keynote speaker: the extensive Q&A
session.

For three hours
I answered questions that had nothing—
absolutely nothing
to do with
Statham Industries: “Are you single?” “What do you look for in a woman?” “How
often do you work out?” “When do you plan on getting married?”

What’s worse was
that my colleagues were playing along with the students and acting like these
questions were completely normal; they even asked me a few questions about
women and dating themselves.

When the Q&A
session was finally over, I attended a smaller meeting with the top students in
the country. Gratefully, I engaged in conversations that were solely about computer
development.

It was ten o’
clock by the time I finished, and I made a conscious effort to disappear for
the rest of the night.

I rode the
elevator to the penthouse suite and headed straight to my bed, walking past the
custom living room and double kitchens. I took off my jacket and turned on the
light. 

“Took you long
enough!” My friend Stacy rolled off the bed wearing a silky piece of black
lingerie. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming!”

I completely
forgot about this...

Stacy was an international
supermodel who I’d met earlier in my career. Back then, she was only doing
local magazines and commercials, but I took a huge risk and made her the
national spokesperson for my company’s first laptop.

The campaign was
an overnight success—launching her into superstardom. We tried to do the
relationship thing soon after, but we realized that we were better off as
friends—
with benefits
.  

“I’ve got
strawberry, pina colada, wild berry, and spicy cinnamon. I personally prefer
the wild berry lube because it’s a lot smoother and doesn’t leave a weird
aftertaste, but I figured I’d let you pick this time. Oh! And, guess what I
also brought?” She pulled a silver packet from her bra. “Ultra-ribbed for his
and
her pleasure! Sexy, right?”

I collapsed into
a chair and laughed. “Sounds great, but I don’t feel like it tonight.”

“Excuse me? You
don’t
feel
like it tonight? This is the third time you’ve been in New
York and you’re turning me down
again
?”

“If my memory
serves me correctly,
you
turned me down the other two times.”

“Those don’t
count. We were drunk and I don’t do smashed sex.” She walked over to me and
pretended to check my forehead for a fever. “Wait a minute. Are you and Audrey
back together?”

“No.”

“Okay...Did you
recently come out of the closet or something? Are you gay?”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh my god! It
makes perfect sense! All these years! That’s the real reason you dumped Audrey
isn’t it? And the fact that I’m standing here half-naked and you’re not even
hard makes it even clearer! So, who’s the lucky guy?” She started putting her
clothes back on.

“Stacy, I’m
far
from gay. Trust me. I just don’t feel like it.”

“Umm hmmm.” She
crossed her arms and pursed her lips. “Then what’s her name?”

“Her who?”

She rolled her
eyes and pulled me out of my chair. “If we’re not going to do anything, the
least you can do is buy me a round, a
real
round, and tell me who ruined
my chance at good sex for tonight.”

I followed her
onto the elevator, up to the rooftop bar, and ordered us a few glasses of stiff
drinks.

Any other night,
she and I would be back in my hotel suite, having sex on every single surface,
filling each other in on the random things that had happened in our lives. We
would be laughing at the things we didn’t understand about each other’s
careers: I never understood why the fashion industry took itself so seriously,
and she could never comprehend the excitement behind innovative technology. 

But tonight,
when I saw her standing half naked in my bedroom, the only thing I could think
about was Claire and her smart ass mouth.

“You ever date a
younger guy, Stacy?” I spooned a lemon slice from my vodka.

“Yeah. Twice.”

“What happened?”

“The first guy
was twenty-one when I was twenty-six, and the second guy was twenty-three when
I was twenty-eight.
That’s
what happened...How old is she?”

“She just turned
forty this past Friday.”

“Wow...”

“Wow,
what
?”

“Nothing, I
just—wow...I actually think the whole ‘older woman-younger guy’ thing is kind of
hot. Since she’s older, maybe she’ll help you out with some of your bedroom
techniques.”

“I’ve never
gotten any complaints.”

“It was a joke,
Jonathan.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, why do you care about her age?”

“I don’t.
She
does.”

Stacy nodded.
“That’s understandable. Well, just show her that it doesn’t matter. I mean,
it’s just sex right? I’m sure when you two are going at it, your age is
the
last
thing on her mind so—”

“We haven’t had
sex.”

“
What
?”
She clutched her chest. “Jonathan Statham has detailed a woman’s car, given her
thousands of dollars in flowers and jewelry, been out with her
twice
,
and hasn’t had sex with her?
Who are you
?”

“First off, I’m
not that insatiable. Second off, I do want to have sex with her but—why am I
even discussing this with you?”

“You
like
her, don’t you?”

I sighed. I
didn’t want to continue this conversation. “How does it feel to be on the cover
of
Sports Illustrated
for the second year in a row? I liked the red
bikini on you. It was different.”

“You should call
her tonight. You don’t have to do the whole ‘wait a week’ thing with an older
woman. She’ll just write you off as—”

“I am going to
call her tonight.”

“Damn. It’s even
worse than I thought.” She laughed. “Good for you though. Anyway, it’s time for
more drinks. I need at least seven more.”

“Whatever you
say.”

It took
a lot
more than seven for her to feel satisfied, and since she passed out in
middle of drinking one, I had to carry her down to her room.

Once I tucked
her into bed and made sure that she could sleep without throwing up, I walked
back up to my suite and called Claire.

“Hello?” She
picked up on the third ring.

“Hello, Claire.”

“Um...Hi.” She
sounded surprised. “How’s your conference going?”

“I wouldn’t
know. I haven’t been paying attention. How are things back at corporate?”

“Pretty great.
There was a memo from the CEO today about the parking zones being permanently
terminated. Everyone here is pretty excited since he’s finally pulled his head out
of his ass.”

I laughed. “Do
you practice insulting people or are you naturally good at it?”

“I practice five
hours a day.”

“Time very well
spent. About dinner this Saturday night—”

“What about it?”

“What do I have
to do to get you to say yes?”

She sighed.
“Agree to let me pay for my own dinner.”

“And why would I
do that?”

“Because it sets
boundaries between us and it won’t feel like a date.”

“It
is
a
date.”

“Well, it
shouldn’t be. I know you changed the company policy on dating, but us hanging
out outside of the office is wrong, regardless of if you think so or not.”

“So you want me
to fire you?”

“What! No, I
don’t want you to—”

“Because I will,
if that’s what it takes.”

She sighed.
“Will you just let me pay for my own dinner?”

No...
“Sure, Claire. I
can let you do that. I made us a reservation at Michael Mina for eight o’
clock. Am I allowed to come pick you up or is that out of the question as
well?”

“I’ll meet you
there. I know where that is.”

Of course...

“Well, I’m
looking forward to it. Have you come across any good campaign ideas yet?”

“Yeah.” There
was a rustling of papers in the background. “Roses are red,
s
Phones are
blue. I’m going to buy one and so should you.”

“Please tell me
you’re joking.”

“No, that was a
real idea. It’s about to find a home at the bottom of my trashcan.”

“Great
decision.”

She cleared her
throat. “So, I take it that your conference is about—”

“I don’t want to
talk about work, Claire. And I’m sure you don’t either. Let’s talk about
you
.”

She was quiet
for a few seconds. “Okay...What do you want to know?”

“Tell me what
you like to do in your free time.”

For hours, I
listened to her talk about her favorite hobbies—dissecting interior design
magazines, studying bridge architecture, running, and reading books. It was
quite refreshing to talk to someone whose point of reference didn’t revolve
around celebrity culture or the latest reality TV show.

While she was in
the middle of explaining her dreams of running a marathon, I heard her yawn and
looked at my watch. Five o’clock.

“I guess we
should call it a night...I didn’t realize it was getting so late.” I lay back on
my bed. “You know, you can call me whenever I cross your mind too.”

“Well, if that
ever
happens I’ll do that. Goodbye, Jonathan.”

“Goodbye,
Claire.”

I knew she
wasn’t going to call me, so for the rest of the week I called her when I was
done with all my meetings. I kept things simple and steered clear of asking any
personal questions; I had the feeling she wouldn’t be too receptive to that.

When my plane
landed back in San Francisco on Saturday afternoon, I sent her a text:
“Michael
Mina’s @ 8:00. 252 California St. Just in case you “don’t” know where that is.
See you there.”
 

––––––––

“W
ait a minute,”
Corey said, laughing. “What do you mean she
stood you up
?”

“I don’t think
there’s any other way to say it. She. Stood. Me. Up.” I rolled my eyes.

“I thought you
said she seemed mature.”

“She is, she’s
just...”
This doesn’t make any sense...

“Welp.
Oh
well
. Do you want to go over the Sorrento account today? Their camera
software is worth investing in and we could use the upgrade.”

“Later.” I
sighed. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”

“Bottom of
what
?
Bottom of—Do you know you’re talking about a woman who has A) told you you’re
way too young for her, B) admitted that she has two sixteen year old daughters—
daughters
,
plural! And C)
stood you up
last night? Do you realize any of that?”

I shook my head.
“It doesn’t make sense. We talked all week. She didn’t call or text me to let
me know she wasn’t coming.”

“I think she’s
trying to show you that she’s not interested in you. She probably thought
standing you up would help you see that since you keep ignoring what she says.”

I didn’t believe
that. I’d felt how she reacted to me on the dance floor on her birthday, seen
the way she looked at me when we were out running, and heard the way her voice
hitched whenever I called her on the phone.

I could admit
that she was good at playing nonchalant and being a smart-mouth—and she’d
definitely mastered the poker face, but she wasn’t pretending to act like she
was affected by me.

“Whenever you
want to focus on what’s
really
important, i.e. this Sorrento account,
feel free to call me back.” Corey hung up.

“Sir?” My driver
pulled over and turned his head around. “They’re not allowing cars to go any
further.”