Chapter 5

Claire

I woke up on my fortieth birthday feeling no different than the day before. There was no “aha-moment,” no feeling of dread, no sense of uneasiness. Nothing.

I rushed to the mirror to make sure Mother Nature hadn’t decided to throw wrinkles and creases on my face all at once—to make sure she wasn’t trying to play some cruel joke on me.

She didn’t, and she wasn’t.

I prepared for work like I always did, trying my best not to think about how sexy Jonathan Statham was or about his sleek black Bugatti that was parked right outside.

I slipped into my favorite white dress and matching blazer; I’d always admired how the ruffles flattered my curves and made my waist look two sizes smaller.

I read the birthday cards my daughters left on the kitchen table and rejoiced at the fact that they’d bought a cake from the store instead of attempting to bake one.

I was sure I would never get the chance to drive a Bugatti again, so I took the long way to work. I coasted through the residential neighborhoods, cruised past a few parks, and circled around corporate five times before pulling into the executive lot.

“Miss Gracen?” My assistant Rita met me as soon as I walked inside the doors.

“Yes?”

“First off, Happy Birthday! Second off, the Klein brothers specifically requested you to lead the ad project for their new eco-tablets. Should I tell them you’ll be available to do that?”

“Yes. That’s fine.”

“Great.” She scribbled a few things on her pad and struggled to keep up with my walking pace. “Mr. Barnes is out sick today; his wife called from the hospital. That leaves you to work with the beta script team this afternoon.”

Perfect...

“Anything else?” I pushed the door to my office open.

She and I both gasped. My office was filled with bouquets of calla lilies and roses, with white and pink balloons that completely covered my wall of windows.

Wow...

“I’m not sure when all this got here...” She scratched her head. “Anyway, I need your notes on this year’s proposed budget as soon as possible, and Mr. Statham booked a thirty minute meeting with you at eleven o’ clock.”

“What? What was that last thing you said?”

“Mr. Statham wants to meet with you at eleven o’ clock—in his office.”

About what?

“Is that all?”

“No,” she said. She pulled a small pink card off her clipboard. “Happy Birthday again, Miss Gracen. You’re way better than the last director I worked for. I really mean that.”

“Thank you, Rita.”

I moved a vase of lilies from my chair and flipped open the silver card that sat on top.

Claire,

I hope you’re enjoying your birthday. I’m looking forward to spending part of it with you tonight.

PS: You’ve looked stunning every day this week...

I was flattered but I didn’t have time to wonder about why he’d sent so many flowers, and I knew I wouldn’t have time to meet with him; I had too much work to do.

From eight o’ clock to nine o’clock, I made sure everyone in the department was on task and supervised the interns’ brainstorming meeting. I even managed to spare a few extra minutes to get ahead on some of Mr. Barnes’ past due assignments.

From nine o’clock to ten o’ clock, I conferred with the art directors about “sPhone blue” visuals, sat in on a conference call with the national marketing committee, and started reading the proposed expense reports for our eco-tablet campaign.

At ten fifty five, my phone rang.

“Claire Gracen. Who am I speaking with?”

“Miss Gracen, this is Angela, Mr. Statham’s secretary. I’m looking at his schedule and I see that he requested a meeting with you today. Are you on your way up?”

I have two hundred pages to read...

“No, Angela.” I flipped over a sheet of paper. “I am not. Could you please inform Mr. Statham that while I do accept last minute appointments from clients, all internal personnel—even my own superiors, have to schedule their appointments at least twenty four hours in advance. That’s company policy as of sixty days ago. He’s the one who sent out the memo, so he should know that.”

The line went silent. I was sure not too many people rejected a meeting with the CEO.

“I um...” She coughed. “I will let him know that, Miss Gracen. Have a great day.”

“You too.” I hung up.

I continued looking over the expense reports, making small notes here or there. I was halfway done when I heard a knock at my door.

“I don’t want anything for lunch, Rita! Thank you though!”

The door opened and in walked Jonathan.

He smiled as he shut the door. “Good morning, Miss Gracen.”

“Hello, Mr. Statham...” My mouth went dry and my body tensed at the sight of him. He really was a pure example of what a perfect man should look like. He was dressed in an impeccable black suit with a white button-down shirt, and shiny silver cufflinks that gleamed against the light.

His eyes were regarding me intensely, and I knew that he was slightly running his tongue across his lips on purpose. 

He sat down in the seat across from my desk and smiled even wider. “How are you today?”

“I’m quite fine, and yourself?”

“Pretty good. You know, I don’t normally get scolded by an employee, but it’s refreshing to know that there are other policies that need to be changed.”

I didn’t say anything. My heart was beating too fast and I didn’t want him to sense that I was completely captivated by him.

Think about his age...Think about his age...

He put his elbows on the desk and leaned forward. “You couldn’t spare thirty minutes for me?”

Take a deep breath, avert your gaze to the wall behind him, and clear your throat...

“Mr. Statham—”

“You really don’t have to call me that when we’re alone.”

My breath hitched at the way he’d said “alone” and I took another deep breath.

“I feel more comfortable calling you that since this is, and will always be, a strictly professional relationship. And no, I could not spare thirty minutes. Our head director called in sick today, and since I have to handle his reports as well as my own, I don’t have much free time.”

“Fair enough,” he said as he looked into my eyes. “I just wanted to personally return your car keys.” He placed them on my desk. “And tell you Happy Birthday in person.”

“Well, thank you very much and I appreciate all the flowers. Your spiel only took three seconds though, so there was no need for a thirty minute time slot. If you don’t mind, I need to finish my reading now. Have a great day, Mr. Statham.” I looked back down at my work, hoping he would say “You too” and leave my office, but I sensed him standing up and walking over to me.

I tried my best to act like he wasn’t in the room, to stay focused on the document I was reading, but I felt him hovering right behind my shoulder.

“Claire...”

I slowly turned my head and looked up at him. “Yes?”

He was silent.

He reached down and ran his fingers through my hair—slowly and gently, making my heart beat ten times faster. He leaned in like he was going to kiss me—tilting my chin up so my lips could touch his, using his other hand to caress my neck, but then he suddenly stopped.

He stepped back and sighed. “What time does your birthday party start tonight?”

“Nine...” I could barely hear my own voice.

“Well, I have a last minute meeting tonight so I might be really late. I’ve been looking forward to it all week.”

Silence.

I looked into his eyes and he looked back into mine. There was palpable tension in the air and I wanted him to slice through it. I wanted him to step back over and kiss me until I was out of breath, to rip my clothes off and—

His cell phone started to ring, breaking us out of the spell.

“Hello?” he answered, keeping his eyes on me. “Yeah...by noon on Monday. Okay...Okay, I’ll be right there.” He headed for the door. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yes...” I waited until the door closed and slipped out of my chair. 

––––––––

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror at Havana and tugged at the end of my dress. It was a red haltered dress that ended near the middle of my thighs and accentuated my breasts—the type of dress I would prevent my daughters from wearing until they were twenty one.

“You don’t think this makes it look like I’m trying too hard, Sands?” I turned around and frowned at the low deep cut in the back. “This is a bit revealing...”

“Trying too hard to do what? You look good, Claire! If I had your legs, I would show them off all the time. Is your boss still coming?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. He said he had a late meeting.”

“Well, I hope he comes. I have to see the man that makes you blush.”

“He does not make me blush!”

Sandra pursed her lips and gave me her “whatever you say” look. It still shocked me that she’d never found someone to settle down with. She was pretty, had her own practice, and seemed to charm every man she met. Unlike me, she’d embraced her age—forty one, and swore that she’d rather be forty than twenty any day.

“Are we going to stand in here all day, Claire? You know Helen can only sit by herself for so long.”

“Right.” I looked myself over one last time and followed her back out into the lounge.

We walked over to our reserved table, but Helen wasn’t there.

A man in a white tuxedo stepped in front of us. “Are you ladies a part of Claire Gracen’s party?”

“Yes. I’m Claire Gracen,” I said.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Gracen. Come with me.” He smiled. “We’re sorry we didn’t upgrade your table as soon as you arrived. Please forgive us.”

I shrugged my shoulders at Sandra and followed the man onto a glass elevator, up to the balcony level that overlooked the marble stoned dance floor.

He led us over to a luxurious VIP table in a corner where Helen was downing a Cosmo and smiling.

“I told you two not to spend that much money for my birthday.” I sat down, looking back and forth between her and Sandra. “Why would you—”

“You think either of us would spend thousands of dollars on a VIP table for one night?” Helen scoffed. “I think they mixed your name up with someone else’s, but I’m going to drink as much as I can before they figure that out.”

“Me too!” Sandra picked up a glass. “Cheers to Claire for finally joining the forty club! The best club there is!”

We clinked our glasses together and laughed.

As we talked, the waiters continued refilling our glasses and bringing over trays of delicious h’ordeuvres—insisting that we try out the exotic specials that were only available at the bar across the room.

I kept asking them about the price of the drinks and the amount of the tab, hoping it wouldn’t be too much at the end of the night. Yet, each time I asked, they would laugh and say, “Don’t worry. It’s been more than taken care of.”

“So, last week I had sex at the zoo.” Helen put down her drink. “I think I could have lived without that one. I’m not sure if being pounded right in front of the giraffe exhibit was as exciting as I thought it would be.”

I spluttered my drink back into the glass. “Could we not talk about your sex life for one day? Just one?”

“Oh Claire honey, what’s wrong? Are you still suffering from ‘dick withdrawal syndrome’? It’s okay. It only lasts for as long as you let it last. Although you should know that you’re currently in your sexual prime. Seeing as though you haven’t had sex since—God, I can’t even think back that far so—”

“Okay, Helen. You’ve made your point.” I sighed. “Tell us the damn story.”

“Gladly.”

I sat and listened as Helen went into detail—way into detail, about how she and some associate of hers had snuck into the zoo after hours and had sex on the bench right in front of the Desert Animals exhibit. I wasn’t sure what part I should’ve been more appalled at—the fact that she actually had late night sex in a zoo, or the fact that the animals walked over to the fence to watch.

“Oh my god!” Sandra’s jaw dropped. “Don’t immediately look behind you, but the sexiest man I’ve ever seen just got off the elevator. He looks really important...I wonder if he’s a celebrity.”

I noticed the women at the table behind us gasping and whispering, so I slowly turned around to see who they were talking about: Jonathan.

He was nodding his head as the manager handed him a business card. He shook the man’s hand as he looked towards our table.

Our eyes met and my heart sped up; my nerves were running uncontrollably and my body felt like it was on fire.

I turned back towards Sandra. “That’s him,” I whispered.

“Him who?”

“Good evening, Claire.” Jonathan was at my side seconds later.

“Good evening, Jonathan...” I swallowed and felt myself blushing. “Umm, this is Sandra and this is Helen.”

“Good evening, ladies.” He smiled.

“Good evening.” They both practically swooned.

“Am I the only guy here?” He looked down at me.

“Yes...”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

He walked over to the bar, and once he was out of earshot, Sandra slapped my shoulder. “That’s your boss? Your description didn’t do him justice at all! Screw the age thing, Claire, he’s sexy as hell.”

“Is he single?” Helen eyed him.

“He’s taken.” Sandra wagged her finger. “Claire’s dating him.”

I’m not dating him!

“Well, about time! Welcome to Cougar-town!” Helen laughed and took a long swig of her drink.

On any other night, I would’ve replied to her silly little remark, but it was my birthday and I didn’t feel like letting her get to me. Besides, I wasn’t a real “cougar,” she was. She hardly ever dated anyone her own age. The oldest boyfriend she’d ever had was twelve years younger than her—when she was thirty five.

“Screw you, Helen.” Sandra rolled her eyes. “You better not say anything ridiculous when he gets back over here.”

Helen made a “scouts honor” symbol with her fingers, and as if on cue, Jonathan walked back over to the table with a tray of exotic drinks.

“Cheers to the birthday girl?” He smiled.

We all nodded and tossed back a shot.

He slid into the chair next to me and placed his hand on my thigh.

I immediately felt myself getting hot, so I brushed his hand away and crossed my legs.

Why did I let Sandra talk me into going commando tonight?

“So Jonathan...” Helen purred. “What exactly do you do for a living?”

She knows the answer to this already...Why is she asking him that?

Jonathan put his hand back on my thigh. “I’m the CEO of Statham Industries. And yourself?”

“Interesting! I’m a lawyer at my own law firm, Donovan and Fitz. It’s actually one mile away from your company. How did you become the CEO at such a young age?”

“I started the company when I was still in college. It was just a side thing at first—charging people twenty or thirty bucks here or there to install all types of systems on their phones or laptops, but then I realized that I could build phones and computers from scratch; that I could do a much better job than some of the bigger computer companies. So, my professor helped me to write up a business plan and I showed off the best products I’d developed. Then I got a few investors and professors on board with the condition that I would be the CEO and the company’s namesake. I made a profit the very first year and the rest is history.”

Wow...

“Very impressive.” Helen nodded. “It must be a pretty hectic life. What do you do in your free time, and why aren’t you married already? I’m sure someone like you has lots of beautiful options to choose from.”

What the hell is she doing?!

I was glaring at her, silently begging her to stop making him uncomfortable, but he didn’t look the slightest bit bothered by her insane questioning. He looked calm and in control.

He began strumming my thigh with his fingertips. “I work out, travel, and collect yachts in my spare time.”

Did he just say “yachts”? As in plural?

“And the reason you’re not married yet is because? Are you too rich to be tied down? Having too much fun sleeping with a different woman every night?”

God, please strike her down now...

Sandra was giving Helen the most evil side-glare in history. It looked like she was about to claw her eyes out.

“No...” He smiled. “That’s definitely not it. I guess I haven’t found the right woman yet.”

“Okay, I’m going to the bar to get a stronger drink.” Sandra shook her head.

“I’ll get it for you.” Jonathan released my thigh and stood up. “A stronger version of what you had before?”

Sandra nodded.

“Helen, you too?”

“Yes.” She batted her eyes.

“Claire?” He smiled his dreamy smile and I lost my words.

I shook my head and he walked away.

“Helen! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Sandra fumed. “I told you not to—”

“Calm down, calm down.” Helen snorted. “I was just having fun. He’s clearly into Claire. He’s been eye fucking her all night.”

“Helen!” I shook my head.

“Don’t Helen me! It’s the truth. He’s eye fucking you right now, from all the way over there. And you’ve been doing it too so get over yourself. You two should just get it over with. The private bathrooms here are really nice. Hint, hint.”

I burst into laughter. I should’ve known Helen was only toying with him. She too often took pleasure in testing the threshold of people’s nerves. 

Jonathan walked back over and set down more drinks. “Golden Paradise for you Sandra.” He slid it across the table. “Triple chocolate cloud for you, Helen. And for you,” he said as he reached for my hand, “would you like to dance with me?”

“Sure.” I slid out of my chair and clasped his hand.

He led me down two sets of stone carved steps, to the front of the stage where an orchestra was beginning to play.

He placed my hands around his neck and wrapped his arms around my waist, swaying me to a song I’d never heard before. We were so close to one another that I was breathing in his scent—a heavenly spicy smell that enveloped me and made me never want to let go of him.

“How was your day today, Claire?”

“Good. Yours?”

“Awful.” He pulled me even closer. “Until now.”

I really should have worn panties...

“You know, I could’ve sworn that my car didn’t have customized leather seats and tinted windows when I gave it to you the other day.”

“It didn’t?” He smiled.

“No...Thank you very much though. And I appreciate the table upgrade too.”

“You’re very welcome.”

The lights on the dance floor suddenly went black, and small twinkling lights began to shimmer from above.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s officially midnight!” the maestro spoke. “For those of you who are new to Havana, the next ten minutes on the dance floor will be spent underneath the stars!”

The lights transformed from black to dark purple, to mystic blue and then back to black as the orchestra began to play a mid-tempo version of Nora Jones’ “The Nearness of You.”

“You look amazing tonight.” Jonathan rubbed the small of my back.

I could only nod my head in thanks; that one brush of his fingertips had nearly melted me into the floor.

We continued dancing in silence, and I noticed that the lights were dimming darker and darker; the twinkling stars that were once so bright were flickering fainter and fainter.

As he held me close, I couldn’t help but feel a bit insecure. I knew Helen had only been joking earlier, but she had a point: Someone like Jonathan could definitely have any woman he wanted—a busty blond Swedish supermodel, a sexy high profile actress, anyone. Anyone more established—and probably much younger, than me.

“Do you normally wear dresses like this when you go out?” He tugged at the back of my dress.

“Why?”

“I’m just wondering.”

“Wondering why someone my age would wear something so revealing? Is that what you thought when you first saw me tonight? You don’t have to beat around the bush.” I rolled my eyes.

He sighed. “Are you really that hung up on your age?”

Unfortunately yes...

“No.” I looked up at him. “I just find it a bit odd that you aren’t. I’m not sure what to make of it yet, and the fact that you just asked me about my dress makes me think—”

“Do you want to know what I was thinking when I first saw you tonight, Claire?”

“Yes...”

“You want an honest answer or a politically correct one?”

“Honest.”

“Okay.” He released me from his arms and stepped away.

Before I could wonder where he’d gone, I felt my back pressed against his chest and his hands wrapped around my hips.

“When I first saw you tonight,” he lowered his voice and whispered in my ear, “I wanted to drag you out of here, drive you home, and fuck you in every room of my house for the rest of the weekend.”

I gasped.

“The only reason I asked about your dress is because it looks good on you—very very good on you, and if we were to date I would hope to see more like it.” He hugged me tighter. “So, can you please stop reminding me about the age thing? I honestly wouldn’t give a damn if you were sixty.”

I nodded and tried to turn back around to face him, but he wouldn’t release me.

He started caressing my thighs. “Can you promise me you’ll drop the age thing?”

“Yes...”

“Good. Because it doesn’t matter to me.” He swayed me to the music and began planting kisses along my bare shoulders.

Every kiss sent a tremor down my spine, a new fluttering butterfly against my stomach.

“Are you still free tomorrow?” he whispered.

I didn’t answer him. It’d been so long since someone affected me like this and I didn’t want his barrage of kisses to stop.

“Claire?” He kissed the back of my neck and slid a hand underneath my dress.

He must’ve realized I wasn’t wearing any panties, because his hand stilled right where the lace band should’ve been. He kissed my neck again and slowly slid his fingers down lower.

I could feel the dampness between my thighs and I heard him fail to stifle a groan.

I’m never going commando around him again...

“Answer me, Claire...” He pushed one finger inside of me and torturously moved it in and out. 

Say yes...You are still free tomorrow...

He pushed two fingers inside of me, holding my body completely still with his other arm. He kept his punishing rhythm at a steady pace, kissing my bare shoulders and whispering my name—waiting for an answer.

“This is our last midnight song ladies and gentlemen,” the maestro said as the horns began to play. “After this, we will be switching back to our in house DJ and turning on the lights.”

Jonathan slowly pulled his fingers out of me.

I thought we were going to dance to the final midnight song, but he began using his thumb to massage my clit. Then he pushed his two skilled fingers in and out of me again.

Oh my god...

His pressure was perfect. His rhythm was relentless. I was sure I was going to explode in any second if he didn’t stop.

“Mr. Stath—”

“Jonathan.” He kissed my shoulder.

“I...I...” My breath caught in my throat. “Stop...”

“Not until you answer my question.” He slipped his other hand underneath my dress and once again stalled when he realized I wasn’t wearing a bra. He cupped each of my breasts, softly pinching my nipples, pushing me further to the edge.

I said yes...

“The song is going to go off any second, Claire, but I’ll hold you right here—just like this, with the lights on until you answer me.” He was rubbing my clit even harder—faster, and I felt intense tremors building inside of me.

“Yes.” I bit my lip to prevent myself from crying out. I didn’t want any of the other people around us to know what was going on. 

“Thirty seconds until we speed things up again!” The maestro’s voice was muffled.

“Yes what?” He continued his rhythm, continued caressing my breasts, and I couldn’t hold back anymore.

I exploded in waves around him—shuddering and convulsing, biting down on my lip so hard it was probably bleeding. My knees nearly gave out, and it took every bit of energy I had to not collapse into his arms.

“Yes...I’m...free to go out tomorrow.”

“Good.” He withdrew his fingers and spun me around. He pulled the bottom of my dress down and grabbed my hand, leading me past the stage.

He led me into a private restroom and locked the door.

Helen was right—they were nice, too nice. There was a wall length antique mirror that covered the entire left wall, a rustic chandelier with glimmering emeralds, and a sofa and chaise covered in plush red velvet.

If Jonathan had been any other man, I would’ve immediately started berating him for what he did to me on the dance floor. I would’ve said it was rude and offensive and that I would never speak to him again. But he wasn’t any other guy and I couldn’t deny that I loved every second of it; I was still entranced.

He took a white cloth from over the sink and ran warm water over it for several seconds. He pulled me over into a corner and slid my dress up past my hips. 

“Spread your legs,” he whispered.

I slid my legs apart and looked into his eyes as he gently wiped the inside of my thighs. He moved his way up in a slow sensuous motion that nearly sent me over the edge again.

I tried coming down from the intense high I was feeling, but the look he was giving me was preventing that from happening. He grabbed another cloth—a dry cloth, and caressed me with it until I was completely dry.

We kept looking into each other’s eyes and I thought he was going to say something—or kiss me, but he simply smiled and reached for my hand.

“Are you ready to rejoin your friends now?”

I nodded.

He gave my hand a slight squeeze and walked me back upstairs to our table. As soon as we arrived, he offered to take another drink order for Helen and Sandra.

“So?” Sandra smiled. “Is your boss a good dancer?”

“He’s very good...” I picked up my mojito and chugged it.

She raised her eyebrow but she didn’t say anything further. She and Helen filled me in on two men they’d met during the midnight dance, but I was only halfway listening.

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.

––––––––

Jonathan 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 sPhone 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.”