“Because you’re not being the Jonathan I know. Why can’t you just call Claire? You’re not the type to stay away from someone you like. This isn’t you at all.”
“You’re suggesting that I call the woman who broke up with me and begged me to leave her alone?”
“I’m just saying that—”
“That’s not my style.”
“Whatever. How long do you need me to stay in town?” she asked. “I need to tell the condo manager a date tomorrow.”
“Not long, and you’re more than welcome to stay here or at one of the beach houses.” I re-buttoned my shirt. “I just need you to go to the Juniper Conference with me as my date in two weeks. I’ll need someone to keep the single women away from me. I don’t want them thinking I’m available.”
“I don’t have to accompany you to the morning tech sessions do I? You know that stuff bores me out of my mind.”
“Not unless you want to.”
“Ha! No. Parties and mixers only, and I’ll do my best to act like I’m your girlfriend. By the way, since I flew out here and you left me hanging again, I’ll need a shopping spree on your behalf. Tomorrow. Actually, make it every day this week.”
“Fair enough.” I stood up. “Are you spending the night here?”
“Um, I was actually going to—”
“Can you?”
“Why?”
I sighed. “I just need someone to be here...” I didn’t feel like going into another spiel about Claire.
“Sure.” She put on her shirt and kissed my cheek. “I’ll set up my bed in the living room. You want to get breakfast in the morning?”
“We can’t share a bed?”
“No.”
“Why not? We normally do.”
“Jonathan...” She sighed. “You haven’t called me ‘Stacy’ once today. You’ve been calling me Claire ever since you picked me up from the airport. You didn’t even ask me how I’ve been doing until we were at dinner...As a matter of fact, after I told you, you asked me about Ashley and Caroline ... I didn’t want to say anything because I’ve never seen you like this and I didn’t want to upset you.” She placed her hand on my shoulder. “I don’t want to put you in a situation where you sleep with me, subconsciously thinking that I’m Claire because I’m not. I want you to get your shit together and figure this out. I’ll be in the living room if you need me...Okay?”
“Okay... Goodnight, Stacy.”
“Goodnight. See you in the morning.” She gave me a reassuring smile and walked away.
As soon as she left my room, I walked over to my dresser and pulled out the latest set of pictures: Claire was running on the Golden Gate Bridge, hosting meetings at Starbucks, and lying on the beach in a beautiful black bikini—one of the ones I’d bought for her to wear on my yacht.
I flipped through the pictures over and over, scrutinizing every part. Then I realized that the running pictures were all taken at night, and that these weren’t the latest pictures—they were two weeks old.
I called Greg. “Greg, are you—”
My doorbell rang and I knew it was him; he was always nearby.
I rushed downstairs and let him in, ushering him into the parlor room. I poured us both a glass of scotch and sat in front of the fireplace.
“Good seeing you, Greg...” I took a few sips of my drink and leaned back in my chair, wondering why he wasn’t doing the same.
“You called me in the middle of the night to have a drink with you, Mr. Statham?” He set the glass down and raised his eyebrow.
“Did they find that suspect who was doing the random muggings on the Golden Gate Bridge?”
“Not to my knowledge sir, they haven’t. I doubt he’d appear in the daytime though. If you’re concerned about your employees’ commercial shoot there tomorrow, I can arrange to have—”
“No, it’s not that. It’s...Can you make sure someone from security is on the bridge at night to watch Miss Gracen? She runs on Wednesday and Thursday nights between eight and nine...She doesn’t need to know you’re there. I just need you to make sure nothing happens to her.”
“Of course. I’ll make sure that gets done sir.”
“And since I’m staying home tomorrow, could you get the newest pictures from Corey for me? I know she’s on vacation this week, but I didn’t get anything from last week.”
“I already have them.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small manila envelope. “Corey wasn’t sure if he should give these to you so he gave them to me.”
“What? Why?” And since when do they talk behind my back?
“He doesn’t think you can handle it. Quite frankly, neither do I.”
“Greg,” I said as I took another sip of my drink, “give them to me. I don’t know why you and Corey are suddenly best friends, but I think I’m more than capable of—”
“Miss Gracen is dating someone else.”
WHAT! My blood heated. “What did you just say?”
“She’s dating someone else.”
I tried not to sound appalled. “Who is he?”
“Does it matter?”