Mid Life Love (7 page)

“Are you kidding
me?” She rushed over as a scruffy guy stepped out of her car. “Why do my tires
look like that? They were perfectly fine thirty minutes ago!”

He shrugged and
tossed her the keys. “I just pull the cars around. I don’t ask questions
ma’am.”

“How am I
supposed to get home in this?” She was fuming now, and I could tell she was
trying her best not to slap him. “Why would you deliberately slash my tires?
Towing the car wasn’t enough?”

“Well ma’am, we
do sell tires here if you’re interested. We currently have a free installation
promotion if you buy—”

“Shut the fuck
up.” She shook her head. “And get away from me.
Right now
.”

He backed away
from her with his hands raised in defeat. He pulled a “tire sale” flyer from
his pocket and slipped it to me before disappearing.

“I’m sorry about
your car—
again
.” I waited for her to look at me. “I didn’t know that
they—”

“Don’t worry
about it. I’ll just remember
not
to park my car in the ‘nine to five
only’ zone from now on. Are you going to prevent me from calling a cab this
time too?”

“Why don’t you
drive my car home? I’ll have yours taken to a body shop and have it back at
corporate for you tomorrow.”

“
What
?”
She looked confused. “You’re offering to let me drive your—” She looked over at
my car and shrugged. “What type of car is that?”

I smiled. “It’s
a Bugatti.”

“Right. And
you’re taking my car to a body shop? What’s the catch? You think doing that
will
make me
go out with you?”

“No catch. I
think you’ve suffered enough disappointment for one day. That’s all.”

She studied me
for a minute, looking into my eyes as if she were contemplating my offer. “I
don’t want to feel like I owe you anything because of this...I’ll just call one
of my friends to come get me. I’m sure—”

“There’s no
catch, Claire. I’m just trying to be nice to you. Can you let me be
nice
to you?”

She still looked
unsure, but she nodded.

“Good. Park it
in lot eight tomorrow morning and leave the keys inside. I’ll park yours in lot
nine and leave your keys with security.”

She grabbed a
few things from her car and handed me the keys. “You sure you’re okay with
letting me drive your car? Wouldn’t it be easier for you to drive me home?”

“As much as I
would like to take you home, Claire...” I smiled. “I’m sure you probably think
that would be
inappropriate
.”

She blushed.
“You’re exactly right.” She slipped inside the driver’s seat, locking her eyes
on mine for a few seconds before finally driving off.

I pulled out my
phone. “Greg? Yes. I’m at 3465 Jefferson Street. I need a tow truck and a town
car...And could you get Mr. Lane from Parking Security to call me within five
minutes? I need to make an immediate change to the employee parking policy.”

I watched my Bugatti
ease onto the interstate ramp from afar and sighed.

I’ve never let
anyone drive that car...

C
laire

I woke up on my
fortieth birthday feeling no different than the day before. There was no
“aha-moment,” no feeling of dread, no sense of uneasiness. Nothing.

I rushed to the
mirror to make sure Mother Nature hadn’t decided to throw wrinkles and creases
on my face all at once—to make sure she wasn’t trying to play some cruel joke
on me.

She didn’t, and
she wasn’t.

I prepared for
work like I always did, trying my best not to think about how sexy Jonathan
Statham was or about his sleek black Bugatti that was parked right outside.

I slipped into
my favorite white dress and matching blazer; I’d always admired how the ruffles
flattered my curves and made my waist look two sizes smaller.

I read the
birthday cards my daughters left on the kitchen table and rejoiced at the fact
that they’d bought a cake from the store instead of attempting to bake one.

I was sure I
would never get the chance to drive a Bugatti again, so I took the long way to
work. I coasted through the residential neighborhoods, cruised past a few
parks, and circled around corporate five times before pulling into the
executive lot.

“Miss Gracen?”
My assistant Rita met me as soon as I walked inside the doors.

“Yes?”

“First off,
Happy Birthday! Second off, the Klein brothers specifically requested you to
lead the ad project for their new eco-tablets. Should I tell them you’ll be
available to do that?”

“Yes. That’s
fine.”

“Great.” She
scribbled a few things on her pad and struggled to keep up with my walking
pace. “Mr. Barnes is out sick today; his wife called from the hospital. That
leaves you to work with the beta script team this afternoon.”

Perfect...

“Anything else?”
I pushed the door to my office open.

She and I both
gasped. My office was filled with bouquets of calla lilies and roses, with
white and pink balloons that completely covered my wall of windows.

Wow...

“I’m not sure
when all this got here...” She scratched her head. “Anyway, I need your notes on
this year’s proposed budget as soon as possible, and Mr. Statham booked a
thirty minute meeting with you at eleven o’ clock.”

“What? What was
that last thing you said?”

“Mr. Statham
wants to meet with you at eleven o’ clock—in his office.”

About what?

“Is that all?”

“No,” she said.
She pulled a small pink card off her clipboard. “Happy Birthday again, Miss
Gracen. You’re way better than the last director I worked for. I really mean
that.”

“Thank you,
Rita.”

I moved a vase
of lilies from my chair and flipped open the silver card that sat on top.

Claire,

I
hope you’re enjoying your birthday. I’m looking forward to spending part of it
with you tonight.

PS:
You’ve looked stunning every day this week...

I was flattered
but I didn’t have time to wonder about why he’d sent so many flowers, and I
knew I wouldn’t have time to meet with him; I had too much work to do.

From eight o’
clock to nine o’clock, I made sure everyone in the department was on task and
supervised the interns’ brainstorming meeting. I even managed to spare a few
extra minutes to get ahead on some of Mr. Barnes’ past due assignments.

From nine
o’clock to ten o’ clock, I conferred with the art directors about “
s
Phone
blue” visuals, sat in on a conference call with the national marketing
committee, and started reading the proposed expense reports for our eco-tablet
campaign.

At ten fifty
five, my phone rang.

“Claire Gracen.
Who am I speaking with?”

“Miss Gracen,
this is Angela, Mr. Statham’s secretary. I’m looking at his schedule and I see
that he requested a meeting with you today. Are you on your way up?”

I have two
hundred pages to read...

“No, Angela.” I
flipped over a sheet of paper. “I am not. Could you please inform Mr. Statham
that while I do accept last minute appointments from
clients
, all
internal personnel—even my own
superiors
, have to schedule their
appointments at least twenty four hours in advance. That’s company policy as of
sixty days ago. He’s the one who sent out the memo, so he should know that.”

The line went
silent. I was sure not too many people rejected a meeting with the CEO.

“I um...” She
coughed. “I will let him know that, Miss Gracen. Have a great day.”

“You too.” I
hung up.

I continued
looking over the expense reports, making small notes here or there. I was
halfway done when I heard a knock at my door.

“I don’t want
anything for lunch, Rita! Thank you though!”

The door opened
and in walked Jonathan.

He smiled as he
shut the door. “Good morning,
Miss Gracen
.”

“Hello, Mr. Statham...”
My mouth went dry and my body tensed at the sight of him. He really was a pure
example of what a perfect man should look like. He was dressed in an impeccable
black suit with a white button-down shirt, and shiny silver cufflinks that
gleamed against the light.

His eyes were
regarding me intensely, and I knew that he was slightly running his tongue
across his lips on purpose. 

He sat down in
the seat across from my desk and smiled even wider. “How are you today?”

“I’m quite fine,
and yourself?”

“Pretty good.
You know, I don’t normally get scolded by an employee, but it’s refreshing to
know that there are
other
policies that need to be changed.”

I didn’t say
anything. My heart was beating too fast and I didn’t want him to sense that I
was completely captivated by him.

Think about his
age...Think about his age...

He put his
elbows on the desk and leaned forward. “You couldn’t spare thirty minutes for
me?”

Take a deep
breath, avert your gaze to the wall behind him, and clear your throat...

“Mr. Statham—”

“You really
don’t have to call me that when we’re
alone
.”

My breath
hitched at the way he’d said “alone” and I took another deep breath.

“I feel more
comfortable calling you that since this is, and will always be, a strictly
professional
relationship. And no, I could not spare thirty minutes. Our head director
called in sick today, and since I have to handle his reports as well as my own,
I don’t have much free time.”

“Fair enough,”
he said as he looked into my eyes. “I just wanted to personally return your car
keys.” He placed them on my desk. “And tell you Happy Birthday in person.”

“Well, thank you
very much and I appreciate all the flowers. Your spiel only took
three
seconds
though, so there was no need for a thirty minute time slot. If you
don’t mind, I need to finish my reading now. Have a great day, Mr. Statham.” I
looked back down at my work, hoping he would say “You too” and leave my office,
but I sensed him standing up and walking over to me.

I tried my best
to act like he wasn’t in the room, to stay focused on the document I was
reading, but I felt him hovering right behind my shoulder.

“Claire...”

I slowly turned
my head and looked up at him. “Yes?”

He was silent.

He reached down
and ran his fingers through my hair—slowly and gently, making my heart beat ten
times faster. He leaned in like he was going to kiss me—tilting my chin up so
my lips could touch his, using his other hand to caress my neck, but then he
suddenly stopped.

He stepped back
and sighed. “What time does your birthday party start tonight?”

“Nine...” I could
barely hear my own voice.

“Well, I have a
last minute meeting tonight so I might be really late. I’ve been looking
forward to it all week.”

Silence.

I looked into
his eyes and he looked back into mine. There was palpable tension in the air
and I wanted him to slice through it. I wanted him to step back over and kiss
me until I was out of breath, to rip my clothes off and—

His cell phone
started to ring, breaking us out of the spell.

“Hello?” he
answered, keeping his eyes on me. “Yeah...by noon on Monday. Okay...Okay, I’ll be
right there.” He headed for the door. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yes...” I waited
until the door closed and slipped out of my chair. 

––––––––

I
stood in front
of the bathroom mirror at Havana and tugged at the end of my dress. It was a
red haltered dress that ended near the middle of my thighs and accentuated my
breasts—the type of dress I would prevent my daughters from wearing until they
were twenty one.

“You don’t think
this makes it look like I’m trying too hard, Sands?” I turned around and
frowned at the low deep cut in the back. “This is a bit revealing...”

“Trying too hard
to do what? You look good, Claire! If I had your legs, I would show them off
all the time. Is your boss still coming?”

I shook my head.
“I don’t know. He said he had a late meeting.”

“Well, I hope he
comes. I have to see the man that makes
you
blush.”

“He does not
make me blush!”

Sandra pursed
her lips and gave me her “whatever you say” look. It still shocked me that
she’d never found someone to settle down with. She was pretty, had her own
practice, and seemed to charm every man she met. Unlike me, she’d embraced her
age—forty one, and swore that she’d rather be forty than twenty any day.

“Are we going to
stand in here all day, Claire? You know Helen can only sit by herself for so
long.”

“Right.” I
looked myself over one last time and followed her back out into the lounge.

We walked over
to our reserved table, but Helen wasn’t there.

A man in a white
tuxedo stepped in front of us. “Are you ladies a part of Claire Gracen’s
party?”

“Yes.
I’m
Claire Gracen,” I said.

“It’s a pleasure
to meet you, Miss Gracen. Come with me.” He smiled. “We’re sorry we didn’t
upgrade your table as soon as you arrived. Please forgive us.”

I shrugged my
shoulders at Sandra and followed the man onto a glass elevator, up to the
balcony level that overlooked the marble stoned dance floor.

He led us over
to a luxurious VIP table in a corner where Helen was downing a Cosmo and
smiling.

“I told you two
not to spend that much money for my birthday.” I sat down, looking back and
forth between her and Sandra. “Why would you—”

“You think
either of us would spend
thousands
of dollars on a VIP table for
one
night
?” Helen scoffed. “I think they mixed your name up with someone
else’s, but I’m going to drink as much as I can before they figure that out.”

“Me too!” Sandra
picked up a glass. “Cheers to Claire for finally joining the forty club! The
best club there is!”

We clinked our
glasses together and laughed.

As we talked,
the waiters continued refilling our glasses and bringing over trays of
delicious h’ordeuvres—insisting that we try out the exotic specials that were
only available at the bar across the room.

I kept asking
them about the price of the drinks and the amount of the tab, hoping it
wouldn’t be too much at the end of the night. Yet, each time I asked, they
would laugh and say, “Don’t worry. It’s been more than taken care of.”

“So, last week I
had sex at the zoo.” Helen put down her drink. “I think I could have lived
without that one. I’m not sure if being pounded right in front of the giraffe
exhibit was as exciting as I thought it would be.”

I spluttered my
drink back into the glass. “Could we
not
talk about your sex life for
one day? Just one?”

“Oh Claire
honey, what’s wrong? Are you still suffering from ‘dick withdrawal syndrome’?
It’s okay. It only lasts for as long as you let it last. Although you
should
know that you’re currently in your sexual prime. Seeing as though you haven’t
had sex since—God, I can’t even think back that far so—”

“Okay, Helen.
You’ve made your point.” I sighed. “Tell us the damn story.”

“Gladly.”

I sat and
listened as Helen went into detail—
way
into detail, about how she and
some associate of hers had snuck into the zoo after hours and had sex on the
bench right in front of the Desert Animals exhibit. I wasn’t sure what part I
should’ve been more appalled at—the fact that she actually had late night sex
in a zoo, or the fact that the animals walked over to the fence to watch.

“
Oh my god
!”
Sandra’s jaw dropped. “Don’t immediately look behind you, but the sexiest man
I’ve ever seen just got off the elevator. He looks really important...I wonder if
he’s a celebrity.”

I noticed the
women at the table behind us gasping and whispering, so I slowly turned around
to see who they were talking about: Jonathan.

He was nodding
his head as the manager handed him a business card. He shook the man’s hand as
he looked towards our table.

Our eyes met and
my heart sped up; my nerves were running uncontrollably and my body felt like
it was on fire.

I turned back
towards Sandra. “That’s him,” I whispered.

“Him who?”

“Good evening,
Claire.” Jonathan was at my side seconds later.

“Good evening,
Jonathan...” I swallowed and felt myself blushing. “Umm, this is Sandra and this
is Helen.”

“Good evening,
ladies.” He smiled.

“Good evening.”
They both practically swooned.

“Am I the only
guy here?” He looked down at me.

“Yes...”