I wasn’t foolish enough to believe that our affair would last, it was only temporary—a meaningless fling. It was only a matter of time before a younger woman, a woman who would immediately say yes to going out with him, would catch his eye.
I couldn’t deny that I was enjoying the newfound attention and the undeniable ego boost, but I was hoping he would find someone else soon. I needed to come back to my senses and stop behaving like some sex-crazed teenager.
Stop thinking about him, Claire. Stop thinking about—
My phone rang. Him.
I didn’t let it ring more than once before answering it. “Hello?”
“Hello, Claire. You’re up late tonight.”
“I have to be. I’m in the middle of doing some very important—”
“You’re in bed aren’t you?”
Ugh. “Yes...”
He laughed. “And the lies just keep coming, don’t they? Don’t even think I’ve forgotten about your first lie. I’m still going to get you back for that.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What are you doing?”
“I’m still at the office. I think I’m going to have to spend the night here. It’s been a busy week and I can’t keep up with all the paperwork.”
“More contracts?”
“Exactly. When a company’s about to go public, everyone wants to jump on the bandwagon. It’s a good thing for us economically, but it’s extremely stressful.”
“I can’t imagine...I’m sure you’ll—”
“You should come over.”
“What? I don’t think so. This afternoon was more than enough. I’ll see you on Monday.”
“We don’t have to have sex, Claire. We can just talk.”
“Talk?”
“Yes. What we’re doing right now, except in person.”
“Um...No thanks. That’s a forty minute drive for me so—”
“My driver is outside your house with a town car.”
What!
I jumped out of bed and peered through my blinds. Sure enough, there was a driver standing in front of a black luxury car.
“What’s your next excuse? And don’t say your daughters because you told me last week that they drive themselves to work on the weekends.”
“I...”
“You know you want to come—no pun intended.”
Damnit...“I’ll have to think about it for a while and get back to you.”
“See you soon.” He laughed and hung up.
I rushed into my bathroom and brushed a light layer of foundation on my face. I threw on a pair of black slacks and a purple blouse and headed outside.
“Good evening, Miss Gracen.” The driver greeted me as I approached the car.
His driver knows my name?
“Good evening. Thank you for the ride...”
“Anything for Mr. Statham,” he said as he shut my door.
As the car sped through the city, I realized how beautiful San Francisco was at night—all the lights from the downtown skyline were shining brightly and most of the streets were clear.
The car came to a stop forty minutes later and I heard the driver say, “We’ve arrived Mr. Statham...Yes, of course.”
He stepped out of the car and walked around to my door. “This way, Miss Gracen.” Holding out his arm, he walked me into the basement of Statham Industries. He led me over to the private elevator and hit “JS.”
As we rode to the top floor, he kept his eyes forward and I could see him slightly smiling.
When the doors slid open, Jonathan was standing in front of me wearing a muscle shirt and work-out pants. It looked like he’d just taken a shower; his hair was still wet and I could see small damp traces on his shirt.
Why does he always look so good?
“Thank you, Greg.” Jonathan reached for my hand and walked me into his office. “Would you like something to drink, Claire?”
“No thank you...Is your driver always at your beck and call?”
“Several people are always at my beck and call.” He smiled. “I would’ve come with him to pick you up, but I promised we wouldn’t have sex, so I thought staying here was the better decision.”
“You honestly think I would’ve had sex with you while your driver was in the car with us?”
He didn’t answer. He just looked at me and smirked.
“Come with me. I’m doing my work in here.” He motioned for me to follow him through three different doors, into an elegant living room that looked like it belonged in a mansion—not a corporate office.
“This is a well-designed room...”
“A rare compliment. I’ll have to type that up and get it framed.” He looked over my clothes. “Is that what you normally wear to sleep?”
“Why does it matter? I’m not here to spend the night. I’m just here to—”
“Wait here.” He disappeared into a side room and came back minutes later. “You can wear these.” He handed me a pair of red flannel pants and a black muscle shirt.
“You keep a stash of clothes for all your sleepovers with female employees?”
“Claire, Claire, Claire...” He sighed. “Number one, they’re my pajamas and I’ve never shared them with anyone before. Number two, you are my first sleepover guest at corporate. Period. And number three, I told you that we weren’t going to have sex tonight, but if you keep up your sarcasm, you’ll be bent over my desk in a matter of seconds.”