Chapter 6

Jonathan

Why did I ever agree to come to this conference?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The audience laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I completely forgot about this...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

“Excuse me?”

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

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

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

“Her who?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Twice.”

“What happened?”

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

“She just turned forty this past Friday.”

“Wow...”

“Wow, what?”

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

“I’ve never gotten any complaints.”

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

“I don’t. She does.”

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

“We haven’t had sex.”

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

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

“You like her, don’t you?”

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

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

“I am going to call her tonight.”

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

“Whatever you say.”

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

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

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

“Hello, Claire.”

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

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

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

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

“I practice five hours a day.”

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

“What about it?”

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

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

“And why would I do that?”

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

“It is a date.”

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

“So you want me to fire you?”

“What! No, I don’t want you to—”

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

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

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

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

Of course...

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

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

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

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

“Great decision.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodbye, Claire.”

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

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

––––––––

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

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

“I thought you said she seemed mature.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Greg.” I stepped out of the car and looked at all the activity that was surrounding the Oasis Drug and Alcohol Rehabilitation Center.

There were the usual yellow and blue balloons, the white coated doctors greeting guests from the doors, and the “purity waterfall” which stood out front spewing red colored water; my mom had told me the red signified something, but I forgot what it was.

I’d spent yet another fifty thousand dollars for her to get treatment for her drug addiction, and I had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last time.

I walked inside and took a seat near the back of the auditorium, watching the same exact ceremony I’d seen eleven months ago.

I watched my mom smile as she took the completion certificate from the head doctor on stage, watched her recite the “Today Begins My New Life” poem, and watched her eyes light up with the same self-promises she’d made several times before.

At one point, the head doctor asked the audience to stand and recite the “Supporters Pledge,” but as I mouthed the familiar words, an image of Claire ran across my mind.

I wanted to know why the hell she’d stood me up, why the hell she didn’t even think to call and cancel. I thought about calling to ask her why, but I decided against it; I wasn’t the “call and ask” type.

All of sudden, I heard the “reformed” patients singing the final “Now My Life Begins” song and realized the ceremony was over.

“Thank you so much for coming, sweetheart!” My mom rushed over and gave me a hug. “I think this was it! I think I finally get it now!”

I hugged her back. “I hope so.”

“No Audrey? Where’s your girlfriend?”

“We broke up a long time ago.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry...You’re not dating anyone else?”

“No.” Even if I was, I wouldn’t have told her. I didn’t need to open up to her right away, and I didn’t want to pretend like she was a real part of my life. 

She looked saddened. “Well, whenever that day comes, can I meet her?”

Never... “Sure.”

“I meant what I said about changing, Jonathan. I want us to meet up at least once a week. I need you to help me stay on track for a while.”

“Good idea.” I tried to sound convinced. “Let’s get lunch before we get you into your new condo. I bought you one with two levels just like you asked.”