Chapter 2

Jonathan

“I don’t want Ryan Hayes within ten miles of my fiancée. Are we clear?”

“Yes sir.” “Of course, Mr. Statham.” “As you wish, sir.” My top security personnel nodded their heads in agreement.

“I need to know why he’s here by the end of the week, and if he’s still here at that point, we need to figure out a way to get him the fuck out of here and back to Pittsburgh. Dead or alive.”

“Mr. Statham...” Greg narrowed his eyes at me.

I rolled my eyes. “Barely alive or alive...You’re dismissed gentlemen.” I waited for them to leave before falling back into my chair.

I’d been too angry to sleep the night before, and I could tell by the way Claire looked when she woke up this morning that she hadn’t slept well either.

On the one hand, I was happy she’d told me about Ryan making an unwanted visit at her store, but on the other, I was angry with myself. If I’d arrived there a few minutes sooner, I could’ve personally made sure he would never bother her again.

Claire was mine. Period. I didn’t need him trying to win his way back into her life, or whatever the fuck he was trying to do now that she was happy. I’d worked too damn hard to repair all the damage he’d done, too damn hard to earn her trust and show her that she could be loved again, and I wasn’t going to let him fuck that up.

I need a drink...

“Mr. Statham?” Angela walked into my office without knocking.

“What happened to using the intercom?”

“I have special privileges. Plus, I’m covering for Hayley today so protocol is going to be a little loopy.”

“Why are you covering for her?”

“She has a breakfast date.” She shrugged. “It’s no biggie. She’ll be back in two hours. Anyway, your daily flower delivery to Miss Gracen has just been confirmed, your meeting with Flynn Tech is set for noon, the wedding planner’s meeting with you and Miss Gracen is set for three, and you have another appointment with your mother and the therapist at four thirty.”

I hadn’t heard anything past the words “breakfast date.” Hayley hadn’t mentioned anyone new to me in months. That had to be a mistake.

I shook my head and forced myself to believe that my little sister had simply said the word “date” instead of “meeting.” Then again, I’d heard her and Claire giggling about something over dinner a few days ago, something neither of them seemed interested in telling me.

“And the City Foster Center has invited you to receive the annual Humanitarian Award. “Angela slid an envelope across my desk. “They say they’ll plan the ceremony around your schedule. I know you have the month in mind, but have you set an actual wedding date yet?”

“Not yet...” I leaned back in my chair. “Send me a text later tonight. I think we’ll have one in mind by the end of the day.”

“Of course sir. Do you need anything else from me before I run down to executive affairs?”

“No, Angela. Thank you.”

As soon as she left my office, I picked up my phone and called Corey.

“Yes?” he answered. “Who are we stalking on this lovely day?”

“Are you at corporate?”

“Not yet. I’m still at breakfast. What’s up?”

“I need you to build a file for me as soon as you get in.”

“I have my tablet on me. I can do it for you right now.” He paused. “What’s the name and date of birth?”

“Ryan Hayes. I don’t have a date of birth. He’s Claire’s ex-husband.”

“Good enough. Hold on....” He hummed a few times and mumbled a few words to himself—his normal hacking ritual. “Alright, done. I sent you everything from the three largest databases. When I get back, I can run his name through sixteen more.”

“Thank you. Don’t forget.”

I opened my email and sifted through the documents and security footage he’d sent. I couldn’t find anything linking him to San Francisco except Claire. Hell, Ashley and Caroline were in Arizona and I knew he was well aware of that.

I was about to set it aside for the day, but I saw an email about a high school class reunion at the Regency Ballroom that was two weeks from now, something Claire hadn’t mentioned to me:

Dear Schenley High School Class of 1991,

It is my pleasure to invite you all to our yearly reunion in California! As usual, I’ll be covering the travel expenses for each of you. (It pays to be CFO of Disney doesn’t it? And YES I’m rubbing that in your faces. Again.) Since we did Anaheim last year and L.A. for most of the years before, I figured we’d do San Francisco for a change!

Now, as usual, if you choose to be a planning assistant, I’ll fly you out a couple weeks before the reunion to help me with certain aspects of coordination, but you must help for at least five hours a day. (You know how HUGE this event is to all of us and we have to make sure each year is better than the last.) If you are an assistant, you’ll help finalize the final itinerary and be responsible for setting up the gift bags for our class of 500 awesome people.

If you’re busy and have a life (Yes, James Klein, we all know you’re a huge golf star now and your schedule is hectic), just send me your travel/lodging preferences (up to two tickets per person) and the assistants will mail your official tickets a week before the reunion.

Looking forward to seeing you in a few months!

Harrison Woods

I clicked through the attendees that had signed up and noticed that next to Claire’s name was a “no response” checkmark.

I called Corey again. “Corey, I need something else...I need you to intercept any emails regarding a Schenley High School class reunion from a Harrison Woods. He’s the CFO of Disney.”

“Disney? Are you serious?”

“Can you do it?”

He sighed. “Their firewall might be a bit challenging to get through...Give me a few seconds...”

“If you can bypass any emails about insignificant party details that’d be great. I just want the finalized RSVP list.”

“Got you something even better...Do you see it?”

I looked at my screen and saw a spreadsheet detailing each member of Claire’s high school class and every California reunion they’d attended throughout the years.

Claire hadn’t attended any. Ever.

“Were all of these reunions in California, Corey?”

“It looks that way, which is crazy because the high school is in Pittsburgh. Looks like it all started with their ten year reunion and then it became an annual one. That Harrison guy literally pays for each and every one of these things. It must be a pretty good tax write off.”

“Hmmm...Okay, thanks.” I hung up and called Ashley.

“Hey, Jonathan.” She picked up on the first ring.

“Hello. Are you busy right now?”

“Not at all. I actually just opened the care package you sent me. Are you calling because you meant to send five hundred dollars and not three hundred? Don’t worry. I knew that was a mistake.” She laughed, jokingly. “You can wire me the rest.”

“That’s more than enough to get you through the week,” I said. “I’m calling to ask you something: When’s the last time you talked to your dad?”

“Um, two days ago. Why?”

“Just wondering...Has he mentioned moving out of Pittsburgh?”

“No. He did mention taking me and Caroline to a hockey game this winter since his firm gave him free season tickets—which is odd because we both hate hockey.”

“So, he still lives in Pittsburgh?”

“To my knowledge, yeah. I’m sure he would’ve told me and Caroline if he was planning on moving. He tells us everything.”

“Right. Well, thank you for letting me know.”

“You were serious about only giving me three hundred dollars?” There was a smile in her voice. “Don’t you think that’s an odd amount to give someone every week? The first few times were okay, but it’s getting out of hand now.”

“Goodbye, Ashley.” I hung up.

I was about to call Claire, but I heard my doorknob twisting and—there she was.

She was dressed in a short white dress and high heeled grey pumps, with a one of a kind triple pearl strand necklace I’d bought for her last weekend.

“Are you familiar with the phrase ‘knock first’?” I raised my eyebrow.

“Am I interrupting a private session? Is there a woman sucking you off under your desk?”

“Not today.” I stood up and walked over to her. “She only does that when she’s really happy with me.”

“She is really happy with you.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. “I know our meeting isn’t scheduled until later, but can we cancel it? I want a different wedding planner.”

“You came here just to tell me that?”

“I came here because I’m on my lunch break. Speaking of which, if you’re going to continue sending my staff a catered lunch every day, they prefer sweet tea and lemonade over Coke.”

I smiled and kissed her neck. “I’ll have it changed by tomorrow. How many minutes do you have left on your break?”

“Ten.” She stepped back. “Is that a no to changing wedding planners?”

“It’s a ‘maybe’ because this is your third wedding planner...Are you trying to stall marrying me?”

“What? Of course not... I just want our wedding to be perfect. And actually, I’ve been reading a few in-depth articles about huge weddings and most of them agree that the ideal planning period is six months to a year.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is that I think you should re-consider the time limit you gave me because that’s not enough to even scrape the surface of everything I want to do...Since you claim you want nothing more than to make me happy, I think you should be a bit more generous when it comes to this—especially since this day is so important.”

“Claire...” I looked directly into her eyes. “I’m going to say this one last time and I’m never going to say it again. You have three months to plan this wedding. Three. Months. Period. I do want nothing more than to make you happy, and by the way you scream my name every night, I’m pretty sure I’m doing a damn good job. That said, I’m not waiting any longer than ninety days. And trust me, I’m being more than generous.”

“Jonathan—”

“If it had been up to me, I would’ve married you the day after I proposed. But since you insist on having a wedding, you need to figure out a way to plan it within that timeframe. If you have a problem with twelve weeks and an unlimited budget, or if you even try to push this wedding back by one fucking second, we’re getting married in a courthouse and you’ll be planning an after party.”

She narrowed her eyes at me and I pulled her into my arms. “Why didn’t you tell me about your high school reunion being in California? Don’t you think that’s why Ryan would be in town?”

“I guess I wasn’t thinking about that...” She shook her head. “The reunion is always in California and he’s never bothered me before so...”

“You don’t want to go?”

“No. I never go.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to see him or her...I can’t handle being in the same room with either of them—ever.” She gave me one last kiss and freed herself from my embrace. “I have to get back to work so I’ll see you at home. And before you ask—Yes, I’m redesigning the living room again this week. I’ll see you at dinner.”

“At six?”

“At six.” She smiled as she left my office, and I knew damn well she wasn’t going to be home by six. She never was.

After she left my office, I went back to examining Ryan’s files. Even though he was in San Francisco two weeks before the reunion, he wasn’t one of the planning assistants and he still hadn’t responded to the actual invitation—which meant he definitely wasn’t here for that.

He was here for something else...

**

“Okay. Jonathan, Denise, we’re in the closing minutes of this session.” Miss Tate looked over at my mother. “In all honesty, how do you think today went?”

I think we’re really making progress,” she said as she tied a scarf around her neck. “I feel like we’re getting somewhere.”

“We are.” I sighed. “If you keep behaving, I might invite you to the wedding.”

“Excuse me? What wedding?”

“My wedding.”

“You’re engaged?” Her eyes widened. “To Claire?”

“Is that a problem?”

Miss Tate tapped her notebook. “We can discuss that next time. No new conversation topics within the last ten minutes, remember?”

“Let me get this straight.” My mother ignored her. “You’re about to get married and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I didn’t think you would care.”

“It’s been over eight months, Jonathan.” She sighed. “I’ve apologized to you, I’ve sent Claire god-knows how-many letters in the mail, and I would really like to have a functioning relationship with at least one of my children. I shouldn’t have to beg for that...” She looked over at Miss Tate. “Should I?”

There was silence. I didn’t feel like getting into a deep conversation with her today. I was fine with the molasses-speed progress we were making and I had no desire to fully integrate her back into my life.

I stood up and shook Miss Tate’s hand. “As always, thank you for mediating these sessions, Miss Tate. Mother, Greg is downstairs waiting to take you home.”

“Is twice a week too much to ask?” My mother looked hurt. “Can we at least try it?”

“I’ll ask Claire about it and get back to you next week.”

“Claire? You have to ask Claire?” She narrowed her eyes at me. “I know my opinion doesn’t matter much, but—”

“It doesn’t matter at all.”

“Let me finish, Jonathan. I can at least—”

“No, you can’t. You don’t need to say anything about what I’m doing with my life or anything that relates to Claire because it’s none of your business. What you can do is be happy for me, stay on your best behavior, and show up to the wedding if I decide to invite you.” I kept my eyes locked on hers. “If you pull what you pulled last year—if you even attempt to say anything to her without my permission, I’ll never speak to you again.”

“Jonathan, Denise...” Miss Tate stood up. “I think it’s best if we end the meeting without saying another word to each other. You’re both doing so well. You don’t want to lose all the ground we’ve made so far, do you?”

“You’re still holding that bullshit from last year against me?” My mother scoffed. “Seriously? That’s what this is about? You’re over our past, but you just want to throw in the Claire drama to keep me out of your life?”

“My keeping you at a distance doesn’t have shit to do with Claire. It never has.”

“Then why are you still treating me like this?” She stood up, hissing. “Why are you acting like a goddamn child? I said I was sorry. And just in case you didn’t catch what I said earlier, I’ve apologized every damn day and I’ve even apologized to your girlfriend—excuse me, your fiancée, telling her how much I wish I could take it all back. What more do you want?”

I felt like I was going to vomit. She was literally making me sick. “I treat you like this because it’s never been about me.” I stood up and narrowed my eyes at her. “I could’ve handled myself. I did handle myself. It’s always been about Hayley and how you left her in my care—a child’s care. Why can’t you see that?”

“Hayley has nothing to do with what happened between me and you, Jonathan. It’s her fault if she doesn’t want to reconcile with me because you know damn well I’ve tried. You’re just coming up with another hoop I have to jump through, and you know what?”

“Go to hell.”

Her face paled as soon as I said those words, and for half a second I regretted saying them, but not enough to stay.

“Mother, Miss Tate, I’ll see you two next week. I can’t deal with this right now.” I stormed out of my office and headed towards Angela’s desk.

“Mr. Statham? Is everything alright?” She looked up.

“No...Can you call my fiancée and tell her I’m on my way to pick her up for dinner please? Tell her it’s non-negotiable.”

“Yes sir.”

I hit the down button at the elevator and stepped inside as soon as the doors opened. I wasn’t sure why I still put up with my mother—why I even tried, because she honestly didn’t deserve anything from me after what she did last year.

Maybe deep down it was pity—shame, but I promised myself I would never forgive her until she completely acknowledged and understood how she’d almost wrecked my little sister for life, how she’d singlehandedly damaged her, leaving me to repair what little I could.