However, this particular Monday was worse than usual because I didn’t get one second to relax over the weekend.
I spent my entire Saturday standing on the Golden Gate Bridge, shooting three different versions of the sPhone blue commercial: We did take after take after take, and once it was finally perfected, the director realized he’d been shooting with the wrong camera, so we had to do it all over again.
On Sunday, my team and I spent eighteen hours going through stock footage, trying to come up with promotion strategies for Statham Industries’ newest product: the sTablet.
By the time I arrived to work on Monday, I was a walking zombie. I sat through endless meetings—intern contracts, publicity revamps, beta research, et cetera, et cetera. I didn’t bother taking a lunch break because two clients requested me at the last minute to help with their pitches.
When my last meeting was over, I was completely slammed. I tried drinking a few cups of coffee to perk myself up, but there was no effect whatsoever.
It wasn’t until a little after five when I noticed a text Jonathan had sent hours ago: “My secretary went home early so we can use my office today...You can come up whenever you like.”
I packed all my things away and freshened myself up in the bathroom, hoping that a few hours with him would be all I needed to gain some energy.
I took the elevator up to the top floor and knocked.
“Good afternoon, Claire.” He opened the door and ushered me inside.
I looked around his office and tried not to seem utterly impressed. It was ten times the size of my office and there were doors that led to other rooms on all four walls.
On the wall to my right was a floor to ceiling bookcase that was filled with hardcover books. To my left, was a projector screen that covered the entire wall and a seating area for ten. His massive metal desk was centered in front of the floor to ceiling windows, and there was a huge white luxury sofa in the corner.
He put his hands on my shoulders and raised his eyebrow. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Hmmm. No reason.”
He led me over to the sofa and sat down next to me. He held my face in his hands and looked deep into my eyes before kissing me.
I thought he was going to take off my clothes or lay me against the couch, but he pulled me into his lap and began massaging my shoulders.
“How was your day today?” he asked.
“It was ahhh...It was okay...” I murmured.
“And how did your promo shoots go over the weekend?”
“Ahhh...Good. Very good.” I closed my eyes, focusing on the soft rhythm of his hands, and then everything went black.
I felt fingers running through my hair, a hand caressing my face. I opened my eyes and realized I was lying in Jonathan’s lap.
I fell asleep?!
“Is sex with me that boring?” He looked down at me and smiled. “You can tell me, you know. We can work on it.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just really exhausted and I—”
“No need to apologize. I knew you were tired when you came in...Turn over.”
I groggily rolled over and he started massaging my back.
“Long day?”
“Long weekend...I think I’ve had seven hours of sleep over the past three days. Promo sweeps are the worst part of being a marketing director because the clients expect so much. We were on the bridge all day Saturday and here all day yesterday...It probably didn’t help that we kept ordering take-out food every three hours...”
“You should’ve called me. I would’ve had a chef team stationed here for you all.”
“You wouldn’t have done that.” I exhaled as he pressed his palms into my back.
This feels so good...
“I would have, especially if I had known you were here.”
“Good to know, but ‘calling you’ and ‘talking to you on the phone’ fall outside of the strictly sex rule. Remember?”
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with us talking on the phone, Claire. As a matter of fact, I’m going to call you tomorrow night, and you’re going to answer.”
“I’ll think about it.”
I heard him laugh, and then I felt his hands move further down my back.
“I think you should call in sick tomorrow and get some rest,” he said.
“So you can show up to my house uninvited?”
“No.” He planted a kiss on the back of my shoulder. “It’s because you really need to catch up on your sleep. You’re no good to the company if you’re this exhausted.”
“Oh...Well, I’ll consider that.”
“Good.”
Chapter 9
Jonathan
My secretary called my line. “Mr. Statham?”
“Yes?”
“Your mother is here for lunch sir.”
“Send her in please.”