I looked over at Jonathan from the passenger seat of our rented BMW as we continued to drive down some country highway in Tennessee. I had no idea where we were and neither did he. He looked pissed. It was not how I expected this trip to go. My phone rang again for the seventh time today, it was my father and I ignored him again. The last thing I wanted to do was talk to my father. I knew what he wanted, and I wasn’t in the mood to have that conversation with Jonathan sitting right next to me.

I reached over to grab Jonathan’s phone to see if I could pull up a map since my phone was going in and out with the spotty service. He put his hand over mine. “Don’t---I got this Claire, we’re coming up on a town any second. We’ll stop there and find a place to stay for the night.”

Jonathan and I had only been dating for a couple of months. I looked over at him again staring at his long blond hair. He really was good looking in a hippy-meets-nerd sort of way. He was tall and thin, and he had hazel eyes that hid behind his Clark Kent glasses. His hair was messed up in a deliberate enough fashion that made you want to run your fingers through it, so it wouldn’t seem so intentionally unkempt. I wasn’t sure why he was acting so pissed off. This trip was what he wanted—it was his idea and I was paying for it. It was supposed to be his birthday gift, that and the Rolex GMT watch he had been hinting he wanted since practically our first date.

I had also planned to give him my virginity. I would have given it up last night if he hadn’t gotten completely wasted at the hotel bar as soon as we landed in Nashville. Now I was having second thoughts, I wasn’t going to give myself to Jonathan if he was going to act like an asshole for the entire trip.

I looked out the window and continued to see nothing but farmland for miles. My phone rang again. It was my father again. I ignored the call. I knew I should answer, he’d been trying to get in touch with me for weeks. My year was up and that made my stomach turn, I wasn’t ready to go back home and face it all. My father owned Hawkins Industries. It was one of the largest manufacturing companies in the country. We made metal parts for everything from clothing to recliners to cars and planes. He built it from nothing and as a result, I had a trust fund that held millions of dollars.

I’d once been an exemplary daughter, his pride and joy. I loved seeing the sense of accomplishment in his eyes when he smiled at me or introduced me to one of his business associates.  That time had come to an end, I knew it. I’d gone completely off the rails.  I attended the best all girls’ boarding school there was in the northeast. I followed every rule and graduated at the top of my class. I went on to Brown University in Rhode Island, graduated with honors, and then to the Wharton School of Business to get my MBA. By the time I was twenty-four, I had done exactly everything my father had wanted and I had managed to hold onto my virginity.  I was a father’s dream come true. 

After I graduated from Wharton, I went home to take my rightful place beside my father at Hawkins Industries. After a week, I began to feel like I was suffocating. I felt as if I was drowning and I couldn’t even see the surface of the water. It wasn’t just the job. My father had planned my life down to every last detail, including who I was to marry.  Ronald Joseph Maclanahan, Jr. “R.J.,” as everyone called him, was the spoiled son of my father’s business associate, who had a stick stuck so far up his ass that I was pretty sure he needed to sleep standing up. The marriage would form the quintessential partnership and double our already outrageous family fortune.

I’d never disappointed my father before, but I knew I had to say something, I had to tell him that I wasn’t ready for the life he had planned for me. I went to him and told him that I wasn’t ready. I told him that I needed time. But I never had the guts to tell him the truth.

The truth was, I would never be ready to marry R.J. and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to work for my father’s business.  He wasn’t happy when I asked for time, but he reluctantly agreed. He gave me one year, until my twenty-fifth birthday, to do whatever I wanted.  At the time, one year seemed like a lifetime. I wanted an adventure, so I called the one and only expert on adventures that I knew, my childhood friend from boarding school, Amber.

Amber was the girl that snuck out to meet boys.  The girl that snuck cigarettes and alcohol into the dorms.  The one that managed to steal the headmaster’s car to drive to the next town to go out dancing without getting caught. She was everything I wasn’t. She was the one person I was secretly jealous of, but I was always too scared to take part in her adventures.

When I called her and asked if she wanted to spend a year with me in New York City, she jumped at the chance. My father was disappointed that I wouldn’t be doing something more brag-worthy, like traveling Europe or teaching English to underprivileged children in some third world country—anything more than partying up with a girlfriend in the city. But I stood my ground and he reluctantly agreed.

Amber and I rented a loft in Manhattan and within weeks, thanks to Amber, were accepted into the most elite of circles in the New York club scene. Our days consisted of trips to the spa and shopping at the most exclusive stores in the city. Our nights were spent dining at restaurants with waitlists that were months long and partying at nightclubs that were invitation only.

I met plenty of hot guys, but I never went home with any of them. I couldn’t, after waiting so long, just hand over my virginity to some guy I met at a nightclub.  It didn’t take me long to figure out that the ‘party scene’ wasn’t the life for me. I was spending ridiculous amounts of money. Amber’s parents weren’t funding our little expedition, so it was all on me. Dad paid the bills and never said a word. 

In the beginning, it was exciting and new. I met all sorts of people. But it didn’t take me long to figure out they weren’t real. Money talks in Manhattan. Most of our new friends were trust fund babies. They were all about sticking it to their parents and living without consequences or responsibility. That wasn’t who I wanted to be.  About six months in, I stopped with the club thing and left Amber to have her fun. I started spending my days at museums and my nights were spent in alone in my apartment trying to figure out what I wanted my life to be like. I still didn’t have a clue. It wasn’t until Amber introduced me to Jonathan that I started thinking I was moving in the right direction.

She dragged me to a gallery showing against my will on a Saturday night a couple of months ago. When she introduced me to the artist, Jonathan, I was immediately drawn to him. I bought one of his paintings that night and we had been seeing each other since ever since.  He seemed real to me. He was poor. He was the epitome of a ‘starving artist.’ I was touched by his story of growing up, being raised by a single mother who struggled to keep food on the table.

It made me happy to take him to fancy restaurants, buy him nice clothes, and give him things that he never had growing up.  Last week, when I took him out to dinner, he had complained that he had been turned down by another gallery to show his work.  He painted landscapes.  I remembered his words from that night as we continued to drive down the deserted country highway, ‘I just feel like I need to see the countryside, you know, breathe the air. I need to touch the grass and the trees. I can’t just paint from photographs. I need the real thing, Claire.’

I surprised him with this trip along with the stupid Rolex at a picnic in Central Park three days ago to celebrate his birthday. I wanted to make him happy.  He had been so patient with me. I told him after a few dates that I was still a virgin. He never pressured me. He seemed happy to just spend time with me.  I was hoping that this trip would be it. I wanted to give myself to him

Jonathan had told me I was special, that he had never felt like that before. Even though I was still struggling over the depth of my feelings for him, I admired him deeply and I didn’t know what would happen since my year was up, but I knew that I sure as hell wasn’t going to give my virginity to the likes of R.J. Maclanahan. 

My phone rang again jolting me out of my thoughts, it was my father. Again. My twenty-fifth birthday was last week. My year was up. I knew I had to talk to him. I just wanted this one last fling. One more week to figure things out. One more adventure to remember. I ignored his call again and heard Jonathan slam his hand against the steering wheel, “Dammit Claire, why don’t you just turn off the ringer if you’re not going to answer your phone? I’m tired of hearing it ring every thirty minutes.”  I glared over at him and then tried to pull up a map on my Blackberry again. It still wasn’t working, and I suddenly felt like I needed to get out of the car as soon as possible. I felt like walls were closing in on me.

I grabbed his Blackberry and punched in a quick search for the nearest hotels. The closest one that popped up was forty-seven miles away. “Jesus, Jonathan, where are we? The nearest hotel is almost fifty miles out.”  He rolled his eyes but didn’t respond. “Just keep going, while I figure out where we are,” I said, as I looked back down at his phone and saw an email notification pop up. It was Amber. Why the hell was Amber emailing him? The subject line said, ‘Thinking of You.’ What the hell?  My hand shook as I opened the email.  I felt like I wanted to throw up when I read it.

Hey you, I was just watching this little video and was thinking of you, so much so, that I had to get myself off.  I’m going to have to buy new batteries for my vibe if you don’t get your sexy ass home soon. How are things in Podunk, Tennessee? You dumbass! If you wanted a free trip, you should have at least told her that you always dreamed of painting the Eiffel Tower. Only you would wind up in the backwoods of Tennessee.  Send me a dirty picture, I need a fix. –A

I couldn’t believe what I had read. I made sure the volume was off on the phone and then pressed play on the video. Sure enough, it was Amber stark naked, fucking Jonathan, who was also stark naked in MY bed in MY apartment. What the fuck?  My hands shook uncontrollably. I felt bile rising in my throat. I looked up when the car came to a stop. We were at a stop light, we had finally reached a town. I quickly glanced around for a place for us to stop and I saw a lighted sign a block ahead for Suzie’s Diner.

No wonder he didn’t care if I fucked him or not, he was fucking Amber. How could I have possibly been so stupid?  Of course, I was nothing more than a paycheck for him, just like I was for Amber. It was all about the money.  They were both using me.  What made me sicker, was to think that I’d done the same thing to my father for the last year. I was no better than them.  Jesus, he was never going to forgive me. Because I knew I sure as hell was never going to forgive either of them.

As soon as we got closer to the diner, I heard myself whisper, “Pull over.” 

Jonathan looked at me, “What?” 

I glared at over at him, “Pull the fuck over Jonathan.” 

He looked back at me like I was crazy. Maybe I was. “What the hell Claire? Pull over where?”

“At the fucking diner, Jonathan. Pull over now!” I screamed.

He didn’t say anything as he pulled into the diner’s parking lot. My grip remained strong on his phone as I threw my own phone in my purse, grabbing it and slinging it over my shoulder as I got out of the car. I ran around to his side of the car and pounded on the glass. He rolled down the window. “Claire, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“Pop the trunk,” I said, trying as hard as I could to remain in control.  He didn’t respond immediately, so I reached through the window and pressed the button to open the truck and stormed to the back of the car.

Jonathan hadn’t gotten out of the car yet, but I could hear him, “Claire, come here, what are you doing? What’s going on?”

I struggled to get my suitcase out of the trunk, but I finally managed as it dropped with a thud on the asphalt.  I heard Jonathan getting out of the car and I looked down at my hand still gripping his phone. I ripped the case off it and threw it down as hard as could on the concrete. He was running at this point, “Claire, Jesus, why are you acting crazy? Was that my phone? What the hell are you doing?”  I looked down at it on the ground and flipped it over with my toe. It was smashed but I stomped on it a few more times for good measure. 

Jonathan came over and grabbed me by the arms, “Claire, calm down, what the hell?” 

“Don’t you dare fucking touch me, Jonathan, ever again!” I screamed as I pushed him off me. I picked up my suitcase stormed off towards the diner.

“Jesus Claire, just tell me what’s going on. Please.” 

I turned back towards him. “Jonathan, ask Amber what’s going on.  I’m sure the two of you can figure it out. I read her email. You need to go now, Jonathan. Get out of here. I never want to see you again. Go!” I screamed before I opened the door to walk into the diner. As soon as I walked in, I saw that the place was empty except for the woman behind the counter and a guy who was sitting at the counter in front of her. I tried to calm down and regulate my breathing. I could only imagine the scene that they had just witnessed. Before I could apologize, Jonathan came storming into the diner and grabbed my arm.

I noticed the guy sitting at the counter standing up, with his hands curled into fists by his side. If I wasn’t so pissed off, I don’t think I could have taken my eyes off him, he was alarmingly hot—I mean so hot, he should be on the cover a magazine hot.  I shifted my gaze back towards Jonathan.  “I’m not going to tell you again. Do. Not. Touch. Me.”  He dropped his grip on my arm as he looked towards the man behind me.

“Listen, Claire, I don’t know what kind of email you saw from Amber. But don’t believe any of it. She’s crazy. She’s been trying to get me to hook up with her for months, but I haven’t, I wouldn’t. You’re the only one I care about. Now come on, please. Come back to the car, so we can talk about this.”

I looked into his lying eyes. “She sent a video you moron.  A video of you fucking her—Amber, my best friend, in MY bed in MY apartment. So, don’t try to lie to me. I am going to ask you one more time to leave. Now.”

“Claire, Jesus, it was just sex. You are the one I want. Please don’t do this. Can we at least talk about this?”

“We are done talking Jonathan! In fact, we’re never talking again. Go!”

“Claire, you know I don’t have any cash right now. How do you expect me to get home?” 

“God, you are pathetic Jonathan, could you at least try to pretend it wasn’t about the money? You have a car full of gas, you have a plane ticket. Drive to Nashville, get on a plane and fly the fuck home. I’m done with you. Oh, and by the way, give me back the watch.”

“What? Claire, I thought this was a gift? Come on. I’m not leaving you here. Let’s go. We can talk about it in the car.”

“Jonathan, you know it’s the right thing, give me the watch.”

He stepped towards me and grabbed my arm again. As I tried to jerk it away, I saw out of the corner of my eye the guy behind me take a few steps forward.  I watched him as he came face to face with Jonathan. He was a few inches taller than him, but what was most striking was his build. Pure muscle. He made Jonathan look like some skinny middle school kid.

I watched him glaring at Jonathan when he opened his mouth, “I distinctly remember this lady asking you not to touch her, so I am going to ask you let go of her arm now.” Jonathan released my arm and looked at the guy.

His voice was shaky when he responded. “We aren’t looking for any trouble here, it’s just a stupid argument. I would appreciate it if you would stay out of it.” 

The guy smirked at him, “I fully intended to stay out of it until you touched her after she specifically asked you not to. Since you can’t seem to hear what she said, maybe you’ll listen to me.” The guy turned to me, “Is that your car out there?” 

I swallowed, “No. It’s a rental.” 

He smiled, “Did you rent it, or did he?”

“I did.” I don’t know why speaking to him made me so nervous. All I knew was that I could get used to looking into those eyes. 

“Are you sure you want him to take off with your car? There’s not much around here.”

“I’m sure. I need him as far away from me as possible.”

He glared back to Jonathan. “You need to go man. Right now. You heard her. And give her the watch like she asked.”

I looked at Jonathan and he looked like he was about to throw a temper tantrum. “Claire? Really?” he whined.  I held out my hand for him to give me the watch and as he was ripping it off his wrist, he muttered “Crazy bitch,” under his breath.

The guy piped up again as I grabbed the watch from Jonathan and threw it into my purse. “I would advise you to stop talking. If you say one more word, you and I are going to have a problem, friend.”  Jonathan looked at me and shook his head and turned around and walked out of the diner.