Chapter 5

Claire

Across and forward...Backwards and across...Across and forward...

I weaved my needle through the lampshade, trying to make the stitches as neat as possible. I’d been locked inside my office all day, sewing order after order.

Since one of my handmade lampshades had been featured in a national magazine last week, I’d had to hire three more people to fill all the incoming requests. I’d even considered shutting down the store for a couple of days to finish, but my staff offered to stay late and help. 

“Miss Gracen?” Rita’s voice came over the intercom. “Lisa and Sam are heading home for the day and your fiancée is on line one.”

“Thank you.” I picked up the phone. “Yes, Jonathan?”

“Come home.”

“I will, right after this last piece. I only have twelve more patches to sew.”

“It’s eight o’clock, Claire. Come home now.”

I sighed. “You can’t give me fifteen more minutes?”

“No. Now.” He hung up.

I rolled my eyes and picked up my needle again, sticking it through the bottom. I’d accidentally used the wrong fabric earlier and I needed to finish it for a customer pick-up tomorrow.

I’ll explain it to him later...

When I was halfway done, there was a light knock at my door.

“Come in,” I said, still focused on my project.

“Miss Gracen.” Greg’s deep voice made me look up. “Mr. Statham is adamant about me bringing you home right now.”

“Is something wrong?”

“He just wants you home.” He held the door open and gestured for me to stand up. “Non-negotiable.”

“Okay...” I called Rita to thank her for staying so late. Then I grabbed my blazer and walked out front—tossing the store’s keys to her on my way out.

Greg opened the back door of the town car and waited until I was comfortable before pulling off.

“Greg?” I cleared my throat.

“Yes, Miss Gracen?” He looked at me through the rearview mirror.

“How long have you been working for Jonathan?”

“Since he first started his company.”

“Did he treat all his girlfriends like this? Make them drop whatever they were doing just because he wanted to see them?”

“No.” He shook his head.

“But you chauffeured them around too, right? Those few serious girlfriends that he had?”

“Miss Gracen...”

“I’m just trying to make conversation to get my mind off the fact that he just demanded that I come home. That’s all.”

“Of course.” He pulled the car onto the highway ramp and turned the music up a notch.

“Are you going to answer my question, Greg?”

He sighed. “Mr. Statham has never asked me to chauffeur any of his other girlfriends.”

What? “How did they get around when they went on dates?”

“He drove his own car to pick them up.”

“Did he take them on his yachts?”

“Miss Gracen...” He kept his voice firm. “I can remember a few random dates on his yacht from years past, but to the best of my knowledge you are the only woman who has been on all of his yachts. With the exception of his sister and your daughters, you are the only woman who has flown on his private plane and you are, without a doubt, the only woman who I have personally chauffeured around. You are also the only woman he’s ever shown his real home. Now, if you don’t mind, I would prefer not to talk about my employer.”

I nodded and sat back in the seat, completely speechless.

All this time that we’d been together, I’d always thought he’d shown his softer side to someone else. Knowing that he hadn’t made me feel even more special.

As the town car rolled past the right exit to take me home, I tapped Greg on the shoulder. “I thought you were taking me home?”

“Mr. Statham called me a few minutes ago. He wants me to bring you to the airstrip instead.”

“He’s flying me somewhere? On short notice?”

“He didn’t say anything further, Miss Gracen.”

Half an hour later, the town car cruised into the private jetport and stopped a few hundred feet in front of Jonathan and his plane. There were twenty people standing around him—his crew, a few of his top accountants, and a couple of people I’d never seen before. He was pacing in front of them, shaking his head in anger, giving orders of some type.

Greg opened my door and reached for my hand, whispering a warning. “Something’s been bothering him all day...”

I nodded and watched as Jonathan continued to yell at his employees, something about “This is unacceptable,” and “Why am I just now finding out about this today?!”

I tried to step backwards and slip back inside the town car, but he looked over his shoulder and his blue eyes met mine. He immediately stopped talking and stared at me, looking me up and down. He strolled over to where I was standing and pulled me into his arms.

Before I could say ‘Hello,’ he pressed his lips against mine and slipped his tongue into my mouth—kissing me until I couldn’t breathe.

“Why do you have such a hard time coming home at six?” he whispered harshly. “We’ve discussed this too many times...”

“I guess I keep forgetting that I have a curfew.”

“It’s an agreement.”

“You should’ve gotten it in writing.”

A faint smile played on his lips and he leaned forward and kissed me again—more passionately this time. He caressed my back with his hands and slipped his tongue deeper and deeper into my mouth.

I opened my eyes and realized that the twenty or so people that were behind us were now staring in our direction, whispering to one another.

I pulled away from him, blushing. “You can’t kiss me like that in front of your staff...”

“I can kiss you however I want.” He clasped my hand and walked me over to his team. “I need three advisors, one executive, and one intern. Takeoff in five minutes.”

He mumbled something under his breath as he led me over to the plane. As usual, he looked into my eyes for what felt like forever before helping me onboard. He motioned for me to take a seat first and then he sat down next to me.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

He didn’t answer. “Could you tell my team to hurry up and decide who’s coming with us?” He shook his head at the flight attendant.

Within minutes, a few of his staff members filed into the cabin. 

“Are you going to answer my question, Jonathan?”

“No. Put on your seatbelt.”

I blinked and he rolled his eyes, reaching over my lap to do it himself.

I tried to read his expression so I could see what he was thinking, but he was perfectly stoic.

“Mr. Statham,” the flight attendant said as she looked at me—not him. “The pilot is asking if you would like for us to wait a few minutes for takeoff or...”

He cupped my face in his hands. “Are you feeling okay?”

I nodded.

“We can take off.” He clasped my hand.

I shut my eyes as the flight attendant reminded his staff to fasten their seatbelts, as the plane roared to life and slowly moved down the tarmac. As we ascended into the air, I felt Jonathan squeezing my hand and kissing my cheek.

I kept my eyes closed until I heard the familiar ping that signified that we were free to move about the cabin, until I heard the pilot’s voice over the intercom: “We’re all clear now, Miss Gracen.”

I looked behind our seats and noticed that all of his associates were busy typing away on their screens—completely preoccupied by whatever they were doing.

“Jonathan...” I was honestly worried. “What’s going on? Tell me.”

He unbuckled my seat belt and pulled me up. “We need to talk. Now.” He tugged me down the aisle and into the plane’s luxury bathroom.

Locking the door, he pulled me flush against his chest and removed something from his pocket.

“What is this?” He held a picture of me, Ryan, and Amanda in between us.

“Where did you get this?”

“One of my security guards found it outside your office this morning. It was with a letter—in a box from Ryan.”

“Your security guards check my mail?”

“As of today, yes. Where is this picture from?”

“Can we discuss the mail tampering issue first? I honestly don’t think—”

“Claire...”

“It’s from our first high school reunion.”

“I thought you said you never went to one.”

“I went to the first one, the one that was in Pittsburgh.” I trailed my fingers around the loosely fitted black dress I was wearing in the photograph, around the pretty gold bracelet that matched the one Amanda was wearing. I cringed as I read Ryan’s “Remember this?” note.

“It doesn’t mean anything to you?” He tilted my chin up.

“No.” I shook my head. “It’s actually quite ironic that he would send this picture because I do remember this. I remember it very well...” I paused. “They passed out these crystallized awards for the people who won superlatives in the senior yearbook...Ryan and I got Cutest Couple and Couple Most Likely to Get Married, and me and Amanda got Most Likely to Be Best Friends Forever...”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s in the past.” I shrugged. “Where’s the letter?”

“You think I saved that shit for you to read?”

“Of course not...” I rolled my eyes. “Now, about you tampering with my mail—”

“What about it?”

“Well one, its illegal. Two, Ryan’s not a threat so—”

“He is when he wants something that’s mine.”

“I don’t think that’s the case. I just think he has something to say but I honestly don’t care what it is.”

“You shouldn’t.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “You shouldn’t care about him at all.”

“I don’t...”

Silence.

He slid his thumb underneath the anchor charm of my necklace and spoke slowly. “You’re not his anymore, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep him far away from you because—” He pressed a warm kiss against my chest. “You belong to me.”

I was silent.

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“No...”

“If he happens to slip past my security...” He looked into my eyes and slipped his hands around my waist. “Or if he comes into your store again—or anywhere around you when I’m not there...You need to call me. ASAP.”

I nodded and he drew my bottom lip into his mouth, harshly trapping it between his teeth for several seconds before letting it go.

“Tell me you’ll call me.”

“Yes, I’ll...Call you...”

“I don’t share...” He traced my lips with his fingertips. “And I never will. Never.”

I wasn’t sure what to say or how to respond when he looked at me like this. I simply stared into his deep blue eyes and felt my heart beating an entirely new rhythm.

“Was that...Was that all we had to talk about?” I stepped to my left and reached over to press the door handle, but he grabbed my hand and pushed me against the wall.

“No. That’s not it.” He reached down and pulled the silver clip I was wearing out of my hair. He brushed his thumb across my cheek and murmured something I didn’t understand.

Just as I was about to ask him to repeat himself, the jet began to shake back and forth, and I instinctively clung to him and shut my eyes, bracing for the worst.

“It’s just turbulence, Claire,” he whispered. But the plane was shaking more violently so I clung to him even more—digging my nails into his neck.

The rough rattling continued and I heard the shuddering of the small cabinets next to me, heard the series of loud pings that meant we were supposed to be in our seats with our seatbelts buckled.

I won’t feel anything if we crash...I won’t feel a thing...

I took several short breaths and lowered Jonathan’s head to mine. “I love you...”

I wasn’t sure how long I clung to him, but after I silently said all my goodbyes to everyone else I loved, I noticed that the shaking had stopped and Jonathan’s arms were tightly locked around me.

There was another light ping, but just to be sure, I counted to sixty before opening my eyes. When my gaze met Jonathan’s I realized that he was smiling at me with his eyebrow raised.

“I’m glad you think that was funny.” I rolled my eyes and pushed him away, reaching for the door. “I’m bursting with laughter myself.”

“Stop.” He blocked me and hit a few digits on a keypad, effectively locking us inside. Then he lowered his mouth to mine. “I wasn’t laughing at you, Claire. I was just staring at you because you look really fucking beautiful today...”

He hesitated, looking as if he wanted to say something more, but he crushed his lips onto mine and pinned me against the door.

I moaned as he took his time kissing me, running his fingers through every inch of my hair. I didn’t even close my eyes to savor the feeling.

I couldn’t.

He was commanding me to keep them open, giving me a look that said he was about to fuck me senseless.

Without breaking our kiss, he slid the straps of my dress down my shoulders and pushed it down, letting it fall to the floor.

I slipped my hands to his pants, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his fly—feeling how hard his cock was already. I was starting to unbutton his jacket, but he grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head.

He trailed his tongue across my collarbone and in between my breasts, using his teeth to unfasten the latch at the front. When he finally got it open, he swirled the tip of his tongue around both of my nipples, biting down on each one until I murmured his name.

Tilting my head back, he pressed kisses up and down my throat and slowly released my hands. He slipped his thumb underneath the band of my panties and slowly ripped them off.

I gasped as he hooked one of my legs around his waist, as he slowly pushed his cock inside of me and commanded that I wrap my other leg around him.

“Jonath—”

“Shhh...” He placed my arms around his neck and pressed a light kiss against my forehead.

I bit my lip as he cupped my ass and started to slowly move me up and down. He pressed my back against the wall and slid his hands underneath my thighs, gripping me roughly as he began to pound into me.

There was no talking between us—just the sound of heavy breathing and our skin slapping against each other.

The plane shook again and I tightened my arms around his neck as he sped up our rhythm. I tried not to cry out, but I couldn’t help it.

“Jonathan...”

He drew both of my lips into his mouth and held them captive with his teeth, continuing to drive himself in and out of me.

I was murmuring into his mouth, begging him to release my lips, but he bit down on them even harder.

I squeezed my thighs around him as tremors started to make their way through my body, as I felt myself getting closer and closer to an orgasm.

Fuck...

He stared into my eyes—silently saying ‘I love you,’ and we exploded together—clinging to each other as our bodies shook violently, as the plane made a noticeable turn in the skies.

He let my lips go and panted. “I love you so fucking much, Claire...so fucking much...” He kissed my face over and over again and I breathlessly told him that I loved him, too.

He looked into my eyes for a long time, caressing my cheek with his palm. As soon as my breathing was normal again, he took a step back—with our bodies still entwined, and sat down on the small window bench.

I tried to move out of his lap, but he held me still and kissed my lips.

“I’ll never get enough of you.” He caressed my back with his hands. “You have no idea how much you mean to me...”

“I do...I feel the same way about—” My sentence was interrupted with a hot and passionate kiss. When he finally pulled away from me, I tried to finish what I was going to say but he kissed me until I completely forgot.

I wasn’t sure how much time passed with us sitting like that, but the next thing I felt was him slowly moving himself out of me and repositioning me in his lap.

“I feel like we’ve done everything...” I murmured.

“Everything?”

“In regards to sex...”

“No, not everything.” He cupped my ass and squeezed it, trailing one finger between my cheeks. “But I figured we should save something for the honeymoon.”

My eyes widened in shock.

“I can also think of several other places where I’d love to fuck you.”

“You should make a list.”

“I will.” He gently eased me out of his lap.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?”

“To the only notary I trust.” He stood and picked my dress up from the floor. “He wasn’t able to charter a jet on short notice so we’re going to him in L.A.”

“Why do we need to see a notary?”

“Because you didn’t sign the papers I sent to your office.”

I sighed.

He’d sent me a sealed box of property deeds, yacht ownership records, and several investment portfolios at the beginning of the week. He’d had them delivered via two of his security guards with a handwritten note: “I want to share everything I own with you, before we’re married—Jonathan.”

“Why are you in such a rush?” I asked.

“Why are you not?”

“Because I’m being practical. Don’t you think it makes more sense to wait until I actually have your last name before I co-own everything you’ve worked so hard to get?”

“Not unless you plan on backing out of marrying me.” His voice was firm. “Since you decided not to sign the papers when I told you to—when my bank was willing to look the other way, we both need a separate set of witnesses and a notary for each set of contracts.”

Oh... “I’m sorry...I didn’t know that was why you did that.”

“And the second we’re done signing all these fucking contracts, we’re going to make a stop at a hotel.”

“We’re spending the night in L.A?”

“Yes. With our wedding planner.”

“What? I thought we were meeting with her next week. I still need to look through a few magazines and catalogues to make sure I have everything I want.”

“We’re doing it now, Claire. Right. Now. I feel like you’re delaying this, and if that’s the case I need to know why.” He looked as if he was waiting for me to say something, but I shook my head. “If it’s not the case, I need to know that you’re as serious as I am about getting married.” He pulled me close to his chest. “You can still meet with her next week to fine tune all the small details, but I want the date and the venue set tonight.”

“I am very serious about marrying you, Jonathan...”

“Prove it.”

**

“Okay, let me get this straight...” Our wedding planner paced our hotel suite tapping her lip.

Her name was Paris Corwin and she was the top wedding planner in the country. She’d worked with hundreds of celebrities, superstar athletes, and had even been an advisor for the royal wedding overseas.

Impeccably dressed in a dark gray suit and creamy colored blouse, she was wearing her brown hair in an asymmetrical bob that framed her heart shaped face.

“You want the ceremony to be outdoors facing the ocean, but you don’t want it to be within miles of anywhere that’s accessible to the public?” she asked, looking at me. “And you also don’t want it to be on a beach?”

“Right.”

“And you want the reception to be in an indoor facility that’s within walking distance from the ceremony space, but it has to have glass ceilings?”

“Correct.”

She took off her glasses and rubbed her forehead. “It also has to be in San Francisco?”

Jonathan spoke up. “We would prefer that.”

“Okay, well...I’m just going to be honest with you two. You may have to concede on a few things if you want to have it there.”

“A few things like what?” I raised my eyebrow.

“Well...” She walked over to the projector screen she’d set up on the other side of the room. She dimmed the lights and clicked her mini remote. “This is a picture of The Shores Resort. It’s a beachfront resort, but they have a huge ballroom with glass ceilings.”

She clicked again and another picture appeared onscreen. “This is La Santa Maria resort. It has a beautiful outdoor area that’s near the beach, but instead of sand there’s grass—which is what you want, but the ballroom doesn’t feature glass ceilings. It does have floor to ceiling glass walls though, and those walls are twenty feet high.”

One of her team members walked over and handed me a white binder.

“Inside that binder, you’ll find similar resorts that are just as grand.” Miss Corwin said. “They’re just as pricey, but they’re only missing one of the things that you’re looking for.”

“Do they all have the grand steps for the reception?” I looked at Jonathan. “I want to enter the reception by walking down the steps, right before our first dance.”

“All the pages with the pink tabs have grand steps. The others have standard steps.”

“Okay.” I sighed. “Let me look...” I opened the binder and flipped through the pages relatively quick. All the venues were beautiful but they didn’t have everything I wanted, everything I’d dreamed about.

“What about this one?” Jonathan pointed at a page that featured a historic castle near the beach. It was gorgeous: Sun drenched stones, grand marble steps, but the ballroom didn’t have a glass ceiling and the outdoor area for the ceremony had more dirt than grass.

I shook my head and shut the binder. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t what I want...I don’t want to concede anything. If we move it to another city will our options be better?”

“Yes, Miss Gracen. They actually would. Let me show you those options.” She took a flash-drive out of her pocket and placed it into her laptop. “Let’s start with Los Angeles. If you look here at this resort—”

“Miss Corwin.” Jonathan cut her off. “You have a full staff of architects on your staff, correct?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll make sure that the gazebo you both want is constructed to perfection.”

“Actually...” He lifted my hand and kissed it. “I want you to build my fiancée’s dream wedding venue from the ground up. Give her whatever she wants.”

There was silence.

Ear deafening silence.

Everyone’s eyes widened—including mine, and all her staff members’ faces went white.

I looked over at him in shock, whispering, “No, that’s insane...You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s just like buying a car. It’s nothing.” He kissed me and turned his attention to Miss Corwin again. “You have a week to find a purchasable location site in San Fran, but I want the proposed budget on my desk by Monday and a list of all the building permits you’ll need. How long do you think construction will take?”

She blinked.

“It would take about eight to ten weeks once the permits cleared, sir.” One of her staff members spoke up. “We’d probably have to bring on another company to help, but depending on the height of the building, we’d also need a zoning clearance from the city. That takes months to get—sometimes years.”

“I’ll take care of it.” He didn’t seem fazed. “What’s next?”

“Um, well...” Miss Corwin slowly regained her composure. “We um...We need to discuss the more intricate aspects now...What color scheme did you have in mind for your special day?”

Jonathan looked over at me.

“I...” I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that he was having my dream venue custom built. “I was thinking angel white and champagne as the main colors—with hints of blush-pink, ivory, and pastel yellow throughout. Nothing too heavy though; maybe a pop of color in the petals down the aisle or in the decorations at dinner, but not enough that it’ll take over the main colors.”

“That sounds beautiful, Miss Gracen.” She nodded. “We can fine tune the smaller things next week, but just so I have an idea about the bridal party numbers...” She clicked her pen. “Who is your maid of honor?”

“I have two. My daughters, Ashley and Caroline.”

“And how many bridesmaids will you have?”

“Three. My best friends—Sandra and Helen, and his sister, Hayley.”

“Thank you.” She scribbled their names down. “Mr. Statham, who is the best man and how many groomsmen will you have?”

“Corey Walters is the best man. I’ll have two groomsmen.”

“Very well. I’ll bring samples of your color choices next week. Oh, and while I’m searching for a place to build your venue, could you keep me informed about the status of your dress? I always like to match some of the floral arrangements to the theme of the bride’s attire if possible.”

“You’ve already bought your dress, correct?” Jonathan squeezed my hand.

“Not yet. I’m going shopping for it this weekend with my mom.”

He raised his eyebrow, but Miss Corwin kept talking. “I assume we’re going with black tuxedos for the groomsmen, Mr. Statham?”

“Yes.”

“Great! Well, since I have to find a place to build your venue, if you two don’t have any questions for me...” She looked back and forth between us, waiting for us to say something. “I’ll have the proposed budget for you on Monday, Mr. Statham. And Miss Gracen I look forward to seeing you again later.”

We both stood up and shook her hand, thanking all of her team members for having us on such short notice.

I helped them pack their binders and posters away, and traveled with them down to the lobby.

“Wait here,” Jonathan said to me as he escorted them outside to the waiting limo he’d ordered.

As soon as the car drove away, he walked up to me and pulled me into his arms. “Please tell me you were just being coy with her about your wedding dress.”

“Coy?”

“Is it hideous? Show me a picture of it and I’ll let you know my thoughts.”

“No...” I rolled my eyes. “I honestly don’t have it yet. I’m going shopping for it this weekend.”

“You told me you started shopping for your dress last weekend.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes. You did.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “That’s the reason why you came home late last Friday.” He pulled his phone out and scrolled through his texts. “Friday. Five forty eight pm: Jonathan, I’m going to be late for dinner tonight. I scheduled a late appointment with a dress boutique at six. I promise I’ll make it up to you—Claire.” He raised his eyebrow in anticipation of an answer.

“Okay...I did have an appointment, but it wasn’t at a dress shop.”

“You lied to me?”

“I couldn’t tell you what it was for because it’s...It’s for our anniversary.”

“So, you lied to me?” He pulled me even closer.

“Jonathan, it was a consultation appointment. After our anniversary, I’ll be happy to show you the timestamp on my receipt so you can see that I wasn’t lying to you. I did have something scheduled.”

He blinked. Then he stared into my eyes for a long time—not saying anything at all.

“Am I supposed to be staring back at you right now? Are we playing a game of some type?” I smirked. “First one to blink actually acts like an adult for the rest of the night?”

“Yes, future wife...” He tightened his grip around my waist. “We are going to play a game. It’s called, Jonathan is going to teach Claire a very strenuous lesson about lying to him...”