Mid Life Love (10 page)

“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.”

D
ear
Journal,

Today
I learned that there is a distinct difference between “forgiveness” and
“stupidity.”

Forgiveness
is what happens when you can honestly move past something and let it go.
Stupidity is what happens when you tell someone “I forgive you” (because it’s
the “right thing” to do), but you secretly hope they drop dead right in front
of you and tumble into the seventh circle of hell.

That
said, I do not forgive Ryan Hayes for cheating on me with my former best
friend. I probably never will and I’m perfectly okay with that.

I
don’t want to hear any bullshit about how “forgiveness helps you sleep better
at night,” because that’s not true. (My seven layer mattress is
amazing
)

Anyway,
I received my evaluations from my associates this week and I waited until
Friday to open them. Out of a possible five stars, my score is a 3.8. Now,
normally this wouldn’t bother me, because stars are just stars and they don’t
mean anything. But this year they were allowed to write anonymous comments with
their ratings and I almost went out there and fired every single one of them.

Their
comments went something like this: “Miss Gracen is an
okay
director, but
she would be better if she weren’t so stuck up.” “Miss Gracen should trust us
with more work.” “Miss Gracen should stop trashing so many of our concepts and
send them up to the board.” “She dresses nice but she doesn’t know much about
advertising.” “Miss Gracen needs to realize that most of us went to Ivy-league
colleges and are more than capable of coming up with great campaign slogans.
(Didn’t she go to the University of Pittsburgh? Isn’t that a
public
school?)”

You
know what? I’m not even going to address their dumbass remarks. I just...

“The
new sPhone blue. We make Crayola jealous.”

Enough
said.

This
can’t be my life,

Claire

C
laire

I called in sick
to work on Monday. I didn’t want to deal with Jonathan asking me any questions
about me standing him up for our date, and I didn’t feel like sitting through
another useless brainstorming session.

All I wanted to
do was relax.

I dimmed the
lights in my bathroom and lit all my favorite candles—vanilla, honeysuckle, and
amber. I tossed a few Eucalyptus salts into the tub and turned on the water,
squeezing generous dollops of cherry bubble bath underneath the running faucet.

I’d always felt
that bubble baths were the best therapy in the world. Hot water and soapy beads
had a way of helping me escape to another life—a life where I could sail to
anywhere I wanted, a life where I worked because I
wanted
to, not
because I had to.

I stepped into
the tub and slid under the suds, letting the warm water lull me into my special
place.

Don’t think
about work...Don’t think about work...

I pulled my
favorite purple vibrator from the side panel and sighed. I hit the “on” button,
prepared to put him to work, but the doorbell suddenly rang.

Ugh! Why now?

I figured my
next door neighbor had received my mail by accident again and wanted to
“personally return it” as opposed to simply sticking it in my mailbox. My
neighbors were so syrupy sweet sometimes it made me sick.

I waited to see
if she would go away, if she wouldn’t notice that my car was parked right out
front, but the doorbell rang again.

Damnit...

I stepped out of
the tub and wrapped a towel around myself. Blowing out all of the candles, I
put my hair into a high messy ponytail. “I’m coming Mrs. Hamilton! Give me one
second!” I rushed downstairs.

I opened the
door and saw Jonathan standing there, looking completely irresistible. He was
dressed in another perfectly fitted suit—dark gray with an opened collared
white shirt, and his stunning blue eyes shifted from my face to my towel; it
seemed like he was slowly undressing me.

“Umm hello?” I
closed the door halfway and peeked around it. “Why are you here?”

“Hi.” He
grinned. “You called in sick today.”

“Okay.
And
?
Do you make house visits every time an employee calls off work?”

“No. I just
wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh. Well, I am.
Thanks for stopping by. Have a great—”

“I actually need
you to sign off on your team’s designs before they can be presented this
afternoon.” He held a briefcase up. “Every director has to pick a top option.”

Oh my god, I
forgot all about that...Why didn’t I remember that the meeting with the advisors
was today?

“Are you going
to let me in so you can see them,
Miss Gracen
?” He smirked.

“Give me a
minute.” I shut the door in his face.

I rushed
upstairs to my room and put on a pair of sweats and a baggy T-shirt. I threw my
robe on over it and caught a glance of myself in the mirror.

I look
absolutely terrible right now...

I took my time
walking down the steps and opened the door. “You sure this isn’t about me
standing you up Saturday?”

He smiled and
walked past me. “Of course not. This is
business
, not personal. Do you
have a table you can lay these out on?”

I showed him
past my unfinished hallway and ushered him into my rustic themed kitchen; I was
glad I’d cleaned up this morning.

He set the
suitcase on the table and looked around. His eyes met mine and I turned away.

“This is very
nice.” He ran his fingers across the hanging bronze light fixture. “Who
designed this room for you?”

“I did.” I sat
down and opened the briefcase. “I did the paint, the crown molding, everything.
It took me two months to get the flooring right. I had to buy it in
installments.”

“I’m impressed.”

I pulled out the
first few markups and sighed. I was now convinced that I needed to find a way
to quit his company in two years, not five. My associates didn’t know shit
about marketing. Actually, they didn’t know shit about anything.

None of their ad
submissions were as terrible as the ‘the cotton field’ one, but they were still
lackluster. There were even misspelled words on some of them.

How hard is it
to hit ‘spellcheck’?

“You don’t look
too happy.” Jonathan sat in the chair next to me.

“I’m not. My daughters
could’ve designed these in ten minutes and done a much better job.”

“Tell them we’re
hiring.”

I rolled my
eyes. “They hear me complaining about my job every day. I doubt they’d be
interested...I guess I’ll go with this one though. It’s simple, modern, and it
gets the point across. We can have the art division spice it up if the chairs
approve.” I placed the best poster on top and placed the stack back into the
briefcase.

I stood up and
clasped my hands together. “Thank you very much for bringing this to my
attention, Mr. Statham. You can go now.”

“Is that
coffee?” He pointed to my coffeemaker. “Can I have a cup before I leave?”

“Don’t you need
to get back to work?”

He looked at his
watch. “It’s eleven o’ clock. The meeting isn’t until three.”

Ugh, my bath is
getting cold...

I walked over to
the cabinet and pulled out two mugs, making us both a cup. I didn’t bother
asking him how he liked his; I made it just like mine and handed it to him
without sitting down.

“Thank you,” he
said as he took a slow sip. “How was your weekend?”

“You said this
was a business visit. I don’t think that question—”

“The first part
was business. Now it’s
personal
.” He glared at me. “How. Was. Your.
Weekend?” He set the coffee down.

So he is
mad about being stood up...

“It was um,
great. How was yours?”

“Yours was
great
?
That sounds really interesting. What all did you do?” He narrowed his eyes at
me and leaned back in his chair.

Try to look away
from him, try to look away from him...

“I went for a
long run with two of my friends and caught up on some work.”

“Hmmm. You know,
I was having a pretty good weekend too. I was spending my nights talking to an
extremely beautiful woman. I believe I talked to her
every
night and we
made an
arrangement
... But then she stood me up on Saturday, so my
weekend ended quite terribly.”

“Oh really?” I
cleared my throat. “Well, that stuff happens sometimes. It’s all a part of
life, young man. Live a little more and then—”

“I’m not sure
what I should be more upset about—the fact that you keep insulting me by using
my age against me, or the fact that I sat in an empty restaurant waiting for
you for two hours.”

He waited two
hours?

“Look, I’m sorry
I didn’t call you. I just—”

“The last time I
was stood up for a date was...” He stood up and walked over to me. “Actually, I
don’t think I’ve
ever
been stood up on a date. It’s such a juvenile
thing to do, don’t you think?”

“Yes. It’s quite
juvenile. I can’t imagine why someone would ever do that.”

“Hmmm.” He
reached down and removed the elastic band from my ponytail, letting my hair
fall to my shoulders. “You have no idea why a beautiful woman would stand me up
for a date?”

“Maybe there’s a
lack of chemistry?” I nearly stuttered.

“No, she and I
have
plenty
of chemistry...”

“Could it be
that you two have nothing in common?”

He ran his
fingers through my hair. “We talked for quite a while last week...I think we have
more than enough in common.”

I shrugged.
“Maybe she’s just not that into you then.”

“Oh, she’s
definitely
into
me.” He smirked. “She just won’t admit it for some
reason.”

“Well, if it
were me, I would just give up and pursue someone else. She
did
stand you
up.”

He tilted my
chin with his fingertips so that I was looking directly into his eyes. “I’m not
going to give up.
She
is. And I don’t
want
to pursue anyone
else.”

We stood gazing
into each other’s eyes and I realized that I needed to get him out of my house
and get back to my bubble bath.

I should use him
for inspiration...

“Look, I was in
the middle of something very important before you came over, so if you could
leave right now so I can get back to it, that would be great. Maybe we can talk
about what happened over the weekend at work tomorrow? For the record, I really
am sorry I stood you up. I had every intention of being there but—”

He silenced me
with a kiss and I kissed him back with a passion I’d never felt before. He
reached down and untied my robe, pushing it off my shoulders and onto the
floor.

Smiling, he
assaulted my mouth with his tongue again, using his hands to tug at the
drawstring on my pants.

All of sudden, I
felt a vibrating sound going off in my pocket. Before I could reach down and
shut it off, he reached into my pants and pulled out my favorite purple friend.

He examined it
for a few seconds, blinking. Then he held it front of my face and smirked. “Is
this what I was interrupting?”

It’s been four
years....Four. Long. Years...

“Claire?” He
cupped my chin and held my face so I wouldn’t be able to turn away. “Is this
what you were doing?”

“I...” I
swallowed. Then I went for it. “What if it was?”

A slow, sexy
smile spread across his lips. “Then I think I should finish what you started.”
He sealed his mouth over mine again and pressed me against the island, making
it hard for me to breathe.

I’d never been
kissed like he was kissing me; it felt like I was having sex—
with my mouth
.
He was controlling my tongue with his, molding his perfectly full lips to mine,
and biting down on my tongue whenever I tried to catch a breath.

I felt him
yanking my pants down, not being gentle about it at all. As soon as they hit
the floor, he snatched his mouth away from mine and pulled my shirt over my
head, tossing it across the room.

“Come here,” he
said as he lifted me on top of the counter. He pushed me onto my back, causing
my cookbooks and folders to fall to the floor.

Leaning over me,
he fisted his hands in my hair, kissing me again and again. He kept his eyes
locked on mine as he quickly stepped back to unbuckle his pants and pull out a
condom.

I gasped and sat
up, panting as he un-wrapped it. “You always come prepared to sleep with
employees when they call off sick?” I looked down below his waist and my eyes
widened as far as they could go; his dick was twice the size of my
ex-husband’s.

Oh god...

A hint of a
smile played on his lips. “Do you always use your sick days to stay at home and
play with yourself?”

My cheeks burned
bright red and I was about to reply, but he grabbed me by my hips and pulled me
closer.

Lowering his
voice, he looked directly into my eyes. “Wrap your legs around me so I can fuck
you.” 

I went stiff. My
conscience started to warn me about this—something about how it wasn’t a good
idea to sleep with my boss, my
much younger
boss, but I ignored it.

I wrapped my
legs around his waist and tried not to scream as he slowly entered me, as he
stretched me way past my limit, filling me in places that I didn’t even know
existed.

I felt him
swelling inside of me, still trying to fit, and I couldn’t hold back anymore. “
Ohhhh
.....
Oh
goddd
!”

“Is this how you
treat people who ask you out?” He was completely inside of me now, but he was
keeping his dick still. “Do you think that’s a
nice
thing to do?”

I shook my head,
exhaling as my body adjusted to his thickness. I wrapped my arms around his
neck to steady myself and groaned as he kissed my neck. 

He ran his hands
up and down my back and whispered, “Are you sure that’s not a nice thing
to do,
Claire
?”

He didn’t give
me a chance to answer. He started sliding in and out of me, making me moan with
each thrust, making me wish he would never stop.

“
I
...
I
...”
I tried to catch my breath.   

“You sure you
don’t like standing them up and making them come after you?” He picked up his
pace, thrusting harder and harder, gripping my hips so I couldn’t resist the
tempo. “Forcing them to wait for
two hours
?”

“
Ahhhhh
....”
My mind went blank. I heard him asking me more questions—something about him
being upset, but I could only focus on how good this fucking felt. I shut my
eyes and surrendered to his control, letting him make my body feel things it’d
never felt before.

With his hands
secured around my waist, he carried me over to the wall—still buried deep
inside of me. 

“Don’t move.” He
pressed my ass against the wall and pounded into me repeatedly, making me cry
out in unbearable pleasure. 

I tightened my
legs around him as he continued his reckless rhythm, digging my nails into his
back each time he plunged into me.

He pressed his
mouth against mine to muffle my loud cries, but his kiss only pushed me further
to the edge. He thrust into me as deep as he could go, and my insides shattered
into millions of pieces; my screams couldn’t be contained.

He found his own
release seconds after, and we both slid down to the floor, panting.

I sat still and
let the cool wall press into my back, wincing as he pulled out of me. I was
trying to focus on something else other than what had just happened, trying to
float back down to earth.