Mid Life Love (Mid Life Love #1)(117)

“I just...” I sighed. “He claims that he doesn’t care about his mother, that he sees her as a burden sometimes, but that’s not true...He wants them to have a good relationship. He’s wanted that his whole life. That’s why he always pays for her to go to rehab, that’s why he’s always hoping that this time is the time she’ll get it right, and I think she finally did. I didn’t want to stand in the way of that; that wouldn’t have been fair to him...I keep telling myself that I did the right thing, that I saved myself an even bigger heartbreak down the road but...” Tears fell down my face.

“Did you tell him that you loved him?”

I shook my head. “Why would I? We were close but...I didn’t love him. I liked him a lot and—”

“Claire...” She pursed her lips and gave me her stop-bullshitting-me face.

“I wanted to...I was going to tell him but—” I stopped and shut my eyes. “I knew I was going to break up with him the next day so I didn’t.”

“It’s going to be okay...Stop crying...”

“So! Ashton seems like he might be just the guy to break me out of my disappointing-dick-spell! He is definitely well endowed...” Helen walked back into my office. “He also gave me five packs of mini-Kleenex, so...” She tossed them over to me. “Let’s take you out to lunch, shall we? That’s step one to getting you back to normal.”

I walked down to the edge of Ocean Beach, so far that I could see Jonathan’s beach house in the distance. I thought about running towards it and knocking on the door, but I held back.

I’d been doing this every weekend since we broke up: going to the deserted part of the beach, lying out on the sand, and thinking about all the things we’d done together.

I reached into my purse and pulled out the small box he’d given me the day we broke up. I’d been carrying it around with me every day, but I’d held off on opening it because I didn’t want to be reminded of how foolish I was for breaking things off with him.

Unable to suppress my curiosity any longer, I sank down to the sand and flipped the top open: Inside was a beautiful golden necklace with a single anchor charm. Next to that necklace was another one—a silver one with several shimmering charms: There were white and red flags—melded together with “Claire & Caroline” etched onto the back, a silver yacht, an anchor with the words “Yours, Always” signed into the sides, a bottle of wine with our initials on the label, and then there was an “M” and an “L” that were intertwined. The “L” was bolder than the “M” and it was covered in a bright pattern of crystals.

“ML”? What does that mean?

I couldn’t think of any place we’d been to that had “M” and “L” in the title, and I couldn’t remember any conversations we’d had about those two letters.

“My love”? “Mid-life”? “My love” probably...

I placed it around my neck and ran my fingers along the charms, wishing that he was here—explaining what every charm meant and making love to me out in the open...

“Miss Gracen, is everything okay? Is something wrong with my idea?”

“What?” I snapped back into reality. “No, Tiffany...Your idea is perfect.” As usual...

“Well, thank you! That means a lot coming from you! And thanks for letting all of us meet you in a coffee shop. Our old director never did anything like that.”

I smiled. “My pleasure. Enjoy the rest of your day.” I shook her hand and watched her walk out of the shop.

I’d spent all morning meeting with my associates at the Starbucks across town. I’d told them that they needed to show me their ideas, make a short pitch, and once we agreed on it they could have the rest of the day off.

Was she the last one I had to meet today? Doesn’t that make fifteen? God, I’m losing it...

I was trying to do everything I could to break my routine, to start getting over Jonathan and anything that reminded me of Statham Industries. I hosted staff meetings at pastry shops, found a new park to do my weekly running, and drove out of my way to go to a different beach when I wanted to relax.

I even asked Helen and Sandra to set me up on group dates on the weekends to prevent me from sulking alone at night. But, no matter how nice some of those men were, none of them compared to Jonathan. At all.

I stood up and ordered another cup of coffee, stopping once I saw the front page of the Wall Street Journal. The headline was “Too Good to Pass Up!” and Jonathan was on it. He was smiling in a well-tailored tuxedo and standing on stage addressing his employees at the IPO ball.

Don’t pick it up...Don’t pick it up...You have to get over him, you have to get over him...

I grabbed my latte and sat back down. I desperately wanted to text him “Congratulations” or ask “How does it feel to finally be public?” but I wasn’t sure if he would text me back. And I knew that if he did, I would disregard whatever he said and write “I miss you.”

I opened my folder and started going though the directors’ proposals, making small notes here or there, shaking my head at how perfect their work was.

“Is this seat taken?” a deep voice said.

I flipped a page and didn’t bother looking up. “No, not at all. You can take it away.”