Mid Life Love: At Last (Mid Life Love #2)(21)

“I knew it!” She covered her mouth and then uncovered it, whispering, “I knew it, Johnnie! I won’t tell no one! Ever! I pinky promise!”

She held out her pinky for me to seal the deal and then she leaned over and gave me a hug. She started to color her plate again and then she looked up at me. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t think mommy and daddy love me...” She blinked.

“That’s not true, Hayley. They do love you.”

“No they don't. They’re not like the mommies and daddies on TV...They don’t care...But you do, Johnnie...You’re the best guardian in the world.”

Chapter 3

Claire

I sat still in my chair at Sweet Dolce—the most highly regarded catering business in San Francisco. I was trying my best not to jump over the table and punch the catering director in the eye, trying not to scream at her for being completely unprofessional.

Her name was Miss Hansen and for the past hour and a half, she’d been flirting with Jonathan as if I wasn’t sitting right next to him. She’d shown us over twenty examples of her fruit displays and she’d only asked for Jonathan’s opinion—batting her big brown eyes each time she uttered, “How do you like it, Mr. Statham?”

What’s worse was that the members of her staff—all female, were standing in the room. They were eye f**king his every move and frowning at me whenever I said a single word.

“And lastly, this is an example of our chocolate covered strawberry tier.” Miss Hansen smiled as her assistants set a medium-sized chocolate fountain in front of us. “The strawberries are cemented around the edges with a clear sugar glue, and your guests will be able to retrieve the chocolate strawberries that are currently floating on the second level.”

“With sticks?” Jonathan asked.

“Yes, Mr. Statham.” She nodded and blushed. “We can even engrave your last name onto the sticks for an extra touch of personality.”

I rolled my eyes as she pulled out a glass box of wooden sticks, as she handed it to him and asked if he liked them enough to give them a try.

“Do you have any questions about anything, Miss Gracen?” She looked at me for the first time all day. “Is there anything else you would like me to show you?”

“No.” I placed my left hand over Jonathan’s, purposely showing off my massive engagement ring. “I think you’ve covered everything. Can my fiancée and I have a few minutes alone please?”

“Of course.” She sneered as she glanced at my ring, and ordered her staff to follow her out of the room.

As soon as they were gone, I picked up my fork and stabbed a strawberry before dipping it into the fountain. Before I could bring it to my lips, Jonathan gently grabbed my hand and pushed the fruit into his mouth.

“It’s very good.” He smiled and prepared one for me to try. “What do you think?”

“It’s okay. It could be better.”

“Are you saying that because she was flirting with me or do you honestly think it could be better?”

“So you did notice how much extra attention she was giving you?”

He smiled.

“It’s not funny, Jonathan.”

“I’m not laughing, Claire.” He mocked me.

“In that case you should’ve said something...”

“Something like what?”

“Nothing.” I rolled my eyes. “I did like her take on white truffles by filling them with buttercream, and I appreciated the caramelized almond dip. That was different.”

“Something like what?” He cupped my face in his hands. “Are you jealous?”

“No...”

He trailed his fingers across my lips. “Are you sure? You have no reason to be...”

“I’m not jealous. I’m just...It would be really nice if we went somewhere and every woman wasn’t gaping at you or flirting with you like I’m not even there—like I’m invisible.”

I remembered our last dinner date at a restaurant on Fisherman’s Wharf, how the waitress immediately blushed bright red and giggled—f*cking giggled, upon seeing Jonathan.

I was pretty sure that if he hadn’t ordered my food for me, she would’ve never asked me what I wanted, because outside of saying “More water, Miss?” or “May I take your plate?” she directed all of her attention towards him.

“I could say the same for you.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Other men stare at you all the time, especially when you’re wearing a dress.”

“Well, at least I don’t flirt back.” I picked up one of the heart shaped croissants that was on the table and handed it to him. “Men won’t even talk to me when you’re around and you know it... How do you feel about these croissants? Do you like how she made them ‘pieces’ in the upside down chess square cake? Or do you think she could’ve—”

He pressed his lips against mine and pulled me into his lap, making me forget whatever I was about to say.

“First of all,” he said as he let my lips go. “I never flirt back. I simply smile and respond because that’s the nice thing to do. Second of all, the only reason I didn’t look at you during this meeting was because I knew that if I did, I’d be laying you across this table in front of everyone. And third, eight months ago I couldn’t get you to go out in public with me and now you’re showing me affection all the time—which, I f**king love I must say, but I think you are jealous. As a matter of fact, I think you’re the jealous type.”