Mid Life Love (Mid Life Love #1)(113)

“After you open your presents. Let’s do that first and then—”

“I want to open them at home.” He signaled to the waiter that we were leaving and picked up his gifts. “You sure you’re okay?”

I nodded and placed my hand in his as we walked to the town car. I slipped inside and saw Hayley sitting on the side seats.

“I thought you left!” I leaned over the seat and hugged her. “He said we ran you away.”

“Without telling you goodbye? How rude would that be?” She laughed. “I just needed to have a few minutes away from you two. Your lovebird gazes are quite sickening. Could you please hold off on the PDA until Greg drops me off? I want to keep my food down.”

I blushed. “I’m sorry...”

“Sure you are. I had a great time, but don’t invite me to anything else unless I have someone to talk to.”

“She’ll invite our mother next time.” Jonathan slid in and shut the door.

“Please don’t.” Hayley snarled. “I want to enjoy dinner.”

Jonathan kissed my cheek and pulled me into his lap. “I think she really is crazy...She made need some one-on-one professional help. I’ve been seeing a different side of her in our latest therapy sessions. It’s like something’s really bothering her.”

If only you knew...

Four weeks ago

I looked over Denise’s latest email and rolled my eyes.

She’d created another fake account to send me news articles about cougars. This most recent article was about a Hollywood couple who was going through a tumultuous divorce: The actress was fifty and the actor was thirty five. All the critics were saying “Of course it wouldn’t last,” “It was destined to fail,” and “That’s what she gets for trying to land a younger man.”

In the subject line, she’d typed, “If she was famous, rich, and beautiful and couldn’t make it work, what makes you think it’ll work for you?”

“Rita, could you please have IT block another email address for me?” I buzzed her. “I’m forwarding it to you now.”

“Yes ma’am. Oh, and there was another delivery for you today. Would you like me to bring it in now?”

“Is it a box?”

“No, it’s wine and two more vases of flowers from your over the top secret admirer.” She laughed. “Do you know if he has any friends?”

“I’ll ask him. You can bring it in.”

As soon as I hung up the phone, she walked in with a large bottle of wine and two beautiful vases of pink flowers. The wine was one of my favorite reds—a vintage merlot that was over thirty years old. And like always, my name was etched onto the flowers’ crystal container with the words “Someone very special to me” right underneath.

I pulled the small white envelope from the stems and opened it:

Claire,

I’m looking forward to spending time with you, Caroline, and Ashley this afternoon. Make sure you tell them that there’s a pool onboard.

Jonathan

PS—Come to my office after your next meeting.

PSS—Leave your panties.

I laughed and opened the other envelope that was attached to the wine bottle:

Claire,

Wine is one of few things in life that age well over time. Some would even argue that the longer they age, the better they taste. Some of the best wines can last for decades if they’re stored properly and kept in a chill, dark place. However, even the best aged wines don’t last longer than a day once they’re uncorked and exposed to the air. It’s their Kryptonite; it’s what makes them realize how old they really are.

This Merlot was bottled in your birth year—forty years ago.

I uncorked it for you yesterday, so it doesn’t have much time left.

Enjoy!

Of course she didn’t sign it...

I ripped the notecard into pieces and tossed them into the trash. I completely regretted encouraging Jonathan to give her a second chance now; she was clearly replacing her normal “relapse drug time” with ways to hurt me. And to be honest, with each passing day it was working more and more.

No matter how many times Jonathan told me I was beautiful, no matter how many times he made love to me and told me I was perfect, one mean text, nasty voicemail, or email from Denise made me succumb to my stubborn insecurities.

Two weeks ago

The waves of the ocean slapped up against the windows of his bedroom, and the yacht slowly rocked back and forth.

He’d just made love to me for the second time that morning, and I was trying to pull myself back down to reality, trying to put the images of our amazing sex in the back of my mind and tell him about his mother; her antics were getting out of hand.

“What are you thinking about now?” He pulled me into his arms so we were face to face.

“Nothing...”

He traced my lips with his fingertips and smiled. “Your eyes give you away all the time. That’s how I know when you’re lying to me.”

“I can talk to you about anything, right?”

“Of course you can.” He kissed me. “I don’t want any boundaries between us.”

How do I say, “Your mother is a bitch and I want you to keep her the hell away from me?” Do I say it outright? Is there a lead in sentence—What can I—