Chapter 4

Jonathan

I walked into human resources and pulled Claire’s file. Her resume was impeccable. She had a Business degree from the University of Pittsburgh, a master’s in marketing from Carnegie Mellon, and she’d worked on several high profile ad campaigns—Ralph Lauren, Versace, Microsoft, Google. Before coming to work for me, she’d spent four years directing projects at Cole and Hillman Associates in Pittsburgh, the largest advertising firm on the East Coast.

Why would she ever leave there to come here? Her position here is a major downgrade from that...She’s probably only being paid half of what she used to make...

I took the elevator to my floor and sighed. Even though her birthdate was clearly marked on all her files, I couldn’t believe she was about to turn forty. She didn’t look forty. At all.

Not that I gave a damn; I actually found it quite funny that she thought her age would be a problem.

“Mr. Statham?” My secretary looked up as soon as I walked by her desk. “I have something for you.” She handed me a card:

Jonathan,

I’m sure you noticed that I wasn’t at the board meeting today and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I’m going to Paris for a while to do some serious wedding planning with my best friend, Joanna—remember her? She’s the one who said you and I would make a cute couple at last year’s charity ball :-) Anyway, I was doing some thinking, and if I need to vacate my seat on the board for you to give us a chance, I will definitely consider it.

I’ll be thinking about you while I’m away.

Hope you’ll be thinking of me,

Vanessa.

I hadn’t noticed she was absent from the meeting and I was pretty sure I never alluded to the possibility of she and I having a chance to be together. I’d lost count of how many times I told her that I only saw her as a friend, nothing more.

I unlocked the door to my office and hit the lights. Tossing my jacket on the couch, I lay down and prepared to take a nap, but I saw my ex-girlfriend sitting at my desk.

“Audrey?” I sat up. “What are you doing? How did you get in here?”

I thought I had you banned for life...

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“About?”

“Us...”

“There is no us. There hasn’t been an ‘us’ in over a year.”

“Just hear me out please.” She motioned for me to sit in front of my desk.

I sighed. I pushed a panel in my wall and took out a bottle of bourbon. I poured myself a tall glass and offered her a bottle of water before sitting down.

“Go ahead.” I tried not to sound annoyed. “I’m listening.”

“Well, I was doing some thinking the other day. Do you remember how we talked about marriage a few times?”

“We broke up a year ago. I don’t keep a listed file about every conversation we had.”

She leaned forward in the chair and bit her lip. “It was going to work out perfectly because our careers were set, neither of us wanted children, and we wanted to travel the world every year once we tied the knot...” She started unbuttoning her jacket. “You don’t remember any of that?”

“No.”

“Well, I do. You and I were pretty serious at one point and then we just fell apart...”

“Was this before or after you called all my ex-girlfriends? Before or after you lied about being pregnant and dragged me to a fake doctor?”

She slid her jacket off, revealing that she was wearing nothing underneath it but a lacy pink bra. Before I could stand up, she’d walked around the desk, showing off the matching panties.

“Audrey...” I felt no attraction whatsoever. “Please get dressed. I don’t have time for this.”

“You know you don’t want me to put on any clothes, Jonathan...Make love to me. Right here. Right now. We never did get the chance to have sex in your office.”

A year ago, I would’ve gladly given in and fucked her in front of my floor to ceiling windows, but I was over her and her silly little games. She’d been the source of way too much drama in my life and I didn’t want that anymore.

“Put your clothes on or I’ll have security come and take you away in what you’re wearing right now.”

She slid her panties off. “But you told me to show up here wearing this! You said you wanted to talk about us getting back together!”

“What? What are you talking about?” And what is that red dot blinking on my bookshelf? Is she RECORDING this?

“I know you want me back, Jonathan, but you have to change.” She suddenly sounded hurt. “Just admit to your mistakes, apologize, and we can get back together...I’ve finally forgiven you for hitting me on Christmas Day and giving me a black eye...and bruising my ribs...And I know you didn’t want me to go to the press about it so if you’d rather pay for me to— ”

“Okay.” I walked over to the red blinking thing—a miniature pen recorder, and tossed it out the window. “I don’t know what the hell you’re trying to pull, but you know damn well I never hit you. Ever. Whatever we had was fun while it lasted, but that’s pretty much all it was before you turned into a psycho. Please get out of my office.”

She started crying. “I said I was sorry! I thought you were cheating on me when I set your Aston Martin on fire!”

I can’t believe I almost forgot about that...

I walked behind my desk and moved her crumpled clothes off my chair.

“And I apologized for calling all your exes! I needed to know if you were still talking to them! I needed to know that you were really mine!”

I handed her the clothes and sat down. “You’ve got one minute, Audrey. Get dressed before I call security.”

“I still think you and I could work out! I know you still want me!”

I picked up my phone. “Greg, I need security to come and escort someone out of my office as soon as possible.”

“The sex was incredible! Remember? We could go on for hours and hours!” She slid into her jeans and put on her jacket. “You can’t say you don’t miss that! Why don’t you want me back?”

There was a knock at my door.

“Come in!” I called.

Two security guards walked in and looked at me, then at Audrey.

She immediately stopped crying, like she always did whenever there was an unexpected audience.

“I don’t need any assistance walking down the steps!” She laughed. “Thanks for calling for back up though. My knees are fine, Jonathan!”

“You really should pursue acting Audrey.” I shook my head. “You would be great at it. Could you two please escort Miss Greene out to the parking lot and make sure to take her name off the approved visitors list?”

“Yes sir.” They motioned for her to leave the room first.

Audrey looked back at me and scowled. “I don’t want you back anyway, you sucked in bed! You couldn’t keep your dick up for more than a minute!”

Jesus...

The door slammed shut and I leaned back in my chair.

Maybe I need to date someone older...Someone more mature...

––––––––

On Thursday, I stayed late working on the marketing department’s reconstruction plan. I wasn’t sure why Claire hated her job so much, but if the ideas her department submitted for the sPhone blue were any indication, I would probably hate working here too.

Their submissions were awful, god awful: “The new sPhone blue: Just blue it,” “The new sPhone blue. Yeah, it’s blue,” and “The new sPhone blue: Buy it. Ask questions later.” 

There is no way “adults” came up with this nonsense...

I shut the folder and decided to call it a day. We were definitely going to have to hire new talent. Soon.

I took the elevator down to the executive lot and slid into my Bugatti. Shifting gears, I prepared to speed all the way home, but I saw Claire arguing with a tow truck driver on the other side of the lot.

Just as I pulled over, he drove off with what I assumed was her SUV.

“Claire?” I stepped out of my car, eyeing the way her black skirt hugged her hips, the way her emerald green blouse exposed just the right amount of cleavage.

She looked at me and shook her head. “This is a perfect example of why I hate working here. Is it really necessary to tow your own employees’ cars if they stay over late? Is that really the best way to discourage over-time? How about just shutting off the damn time clock at the end of the day?”

She walked past me and sat on a bench. She pulled out her phone and groaned. “Yes...I need a cab at Statham Industries. 130 Jennifer Drive...I’m going to Joe’s Car Tow on Jefferson Street. Yes...No...Yes, I’ll hold.”

“Hey.” I sat down next to her. “I’m sorry about your car. Let me take you to get it.”

“No thanks. I can handle this by myself. I’m pretty sure this was a sign for me to start looking for a new job.”

“No, I’m pretty sure it was a sign for you not to park your car in the ‘nine to five only’ zone.”

Her jaw dropped and she narrowed her eyes at me.

“It was a joke.” I smiled. “Lighten up. I’ll take you there. It’ll save you money and the forty minute wait.”

“Thank you once again, but I’ll be fine. Have a great Thursday, Mr. Statham.” She turned away from me and spoke into her phone. “Yes...By credit card. Yes. I’m ready now.” She pulled out her credit card. “It’s a VISA and the number is three, zero, one, seven, eight, one—”

I took the card out of her hand and walked to my car. I fastened my seat belt and heard her tapping on my window seconds later.

I rolled it down and raised my eyebrow.

“I know it may be difficult for you,” she said, crossing her arms, “but could you please act like a mature adult and give me my credit card back? They won’t pick me up unless they have the full number.”

“The quicker you get in, the quicker we can get your car.”

She took a deep breath and glared at me. “I’m going to ask you one more time to give me my credit card...Please give me my credit card back, Mr. Statham. Now.”

“Get in the car, Claire.”

“I told you no.” She held her hand out. “Please be a gentleman.”

“You’re right. Where are my manners?”

I stepped out of the car and walked around to the passenger’s side, opening the door for her. When she didn’t make a move, I lifted her into my arms and carried her over to her seat, ignoring her exaggerated sighs.

I let my fingers linger against her body for a few seconds longer than necessary, reveling in the feel of her soft skin. I shut her door and walked back over to my side of the car, revving it up before she could decide to get out.

“Put your seatbelt on.” I clicked mine into place. “Claire?”

I reached over her shoulder and buckled her strap for her, resisting the urge to snap off her shirt. Ignoring the intense glare she was giving me, I sped off towards the highway.

“Thank you for the ride, Mr. Statham.” She cleared her throat twenty minutes into the ride.

“Thank you for accepting it. Am I de-invited to your birthday party now?”

“No.” She looked out her window. “You can still come if you want.”

I was coming regardless...

“Good. How was your day at work?”

“Wonderful. As it always is, Mr. Statham.”

I turned off at the next exit. “Please call me Jonathan.”

“I prefer Mr. Statham. It helps me keep in mind why I will never go out with you.”

I laughed. “I love a woman with a sense of humor.”

I pulled into the towing lot and parked right outside the holding office. Claire hastily unbuckled her seat-belt, but I reached over and put my hand over hers.

“Wait here. I’ll have them pull it out front for you. It’s the least I can do.”

I walked inside the small building and the receptionist blushed. “How can I help you today, sir?”

“I’m here to retrieve a car that was towed about a half hour ago from Jennifer Drive. It’s a light gray—”

“Audi Q7?” She pulled a folder from the shelf above her desk. “My records say it was parked in a zone without a proper parking pass. Statham Industries must be an awful place to work, huh? We tow at least ten cars a day from there.”

“Yes, it’s a horrible place. How much to get the car out?”

“Three hundred and fifty dollars.”

That’s ridiculous...Do my employees really have to pay that much every time?

I handed her my credit card and she had me fill out a few pages of paperwork.

“I’ll have it brought out in a second.” She disappeared.

When I walked back outside, Claire was leaning against the hood of my car with her arms folded above her head. Images of her lying like that in my bed, on my shower bench, and on my yacht quickly flashed through my mind.

The things I would do to her...

“How much do I owe you?” She sat up, frowning.

“Nothing, except our date that we’ll be discussing at your birthday party.”

“I don’t think so. I’m fine with you coming to my birthday party, but after what happened today, I’m not going out with you.” She suppressed a smile. “I mean it.”

“We’ll discuss it on Friday.”

Out the corner of my eye, I saw her car rolling through the lot. As it moved closer, I heard a strange popping sound and then I saw the problem: Both of her back tires were shredded; they looked like rubber shingles.

“Are you kidding me?” She rushed over as a scruffy guy stepped out of her car. “Why do my tires look like that? They were perfectly fine thirty minutes ago!”

He shrugged and tossed her the keys. “I just pull the cars around. I don’t ask questions ma’am.”

“How am I supposed to get home in this?” She was fuming now, and I could tell she was trying her best not to slap him. “Why would you deliberately slash my tires? Towing the car wasn’t enough?”

“Well ma’am, we do sell tires here if you’re interested. We currently have a free installation promotion if you buy—”

“Shut the fuck up.” She shook her head. “And get away from me. Right now.”

He backed away from her with his hands raised in defeat. He pulled a “tire sale” flyer from his pocket and slipped it to me before disappearing.

“I’m sorry about your car—again.” I waited for her to look at me. “I didn’t know that they—”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll just remember not to park my car in the ‘nine to five only’ zone from now on. Are you going to prevent me from calling a cab this time too?”

“Why don’t you drive my car home? I’ll have yours taken to a body shop and have it back at corporate for you tomorrow.”

“What?” She looked confused. “You’re offering to let me drive your—” She looked over at my car and shrugged. “What type of car is that?”

I smiled. “It’s a Bugatti.”

“Right. And you’re taking my car to a body shop? What’s the catch? You think doing that will make me go out with you?”

“No catch. I think you’ve suffered enough disappointment for one day. That’s all.”

She studied me for a minute, looking into my eyes as if she were contemplating my offer. “I don’t want to feel like I owe you anything because of this...I’ll just call one of my friends to come get me. I’m sure—”

“There’s no catch, Claire. I’m just trying to be nice to you. Can you let me be nice to you?”

She still looked unsure, but she nodded.

“Good. Park it in lot eight tomorrow morning and leave the keys inside. I’ll park yours in lot nine and leave your keys with security.”

She grabbed a few things from her car and handed me the keys. “You sure you’re okay with letting me drive your car? Wouldn’t it be easier for you to drive me home?”

“As much as I would like to take you home, Claire...” I smiled. “I’m sure you probably think that would be inappropriate.”

She blushed. “You’re exactly right.” She slipped inside the driver’s seat, locking her eyes on mine for a few seconds before finally driving off.

I pulled out my phone. “Greg? Yes. I’m at 3465 Jefferson Street. I need a tow truck and a town car...And could you get Mr. Lane from Parking Security to call me within five minutes? I need to make an immediate change to the employee parking policy.”

I watched my Bugatti ease onto the interstate ramp from afar and sighed.

I’ve never let anyone drive that car...