Mid Life Love (Mid Life Love #1)(135)

I was speechless. I couldn’t even think. I stepped back onto the elevator and rode it down to the lobby—inspired to get the Benadryl more than ever so I could try to sleep this pain away.

He doesn’t know me? How can he say that? Is he that upset about earlier?

I let more tears fall down my face as I stepped off and headed towards the gift shop. I saw Greg ordering around a group of suited men and rushed over. I blurted, “I need to speak to Jonathan and they won’t let me up to the presidential suite.”

“Excuse me for one minute, gentlemen.” He pulled me away from the group and raised his eyebrow. He reached into his jacket and handed me a handkerchief. “Would you like me to deliver the message for you, Miss Gracen?”

“No, I...It’s a really personal message. Can you take me up there with you? I’m sure if the guard saw me with you he would—”

“He doesn’t want to be bothered by anyone for the remainder of the conference, Miss Gracen. Those were his exact words to me.”

“Please, Greg...I need to—”

“He wants to be alone.” His voice was clipped.

“Please.” I cried. “I know we haven’t been together for three months but he means a lot to me. You have to believe that...Please help me...”

Sighing, he grabbed my hand and led me around the front desk, greeting all of the managers, showing me a private elevator. He hit the top button and the doors glided open immediately.

As the cart rose, he turned to face me. “When you get off, make two lefts and his room will be in front of you. This is the back entrance to his suite, so you’ll have to be quiet or the guard who stands in front of the other elevator will alert me or the hotel’s head security. Understand?”

I nodded and the doors opened seconds later.

“To the left, Miss Gracen.”

I rushed off the elevator and headed for his room.

I stood in front of the door for a few seconds, running my fingers across the golden nameplate that bore his name in newly painted cursive.

I knocked once. No answer.

I knocked twice. Nothing.

I knocked again and again, louder and louder with each try.

“Hold on! Hold on!” A woman’s voice came from the other side of the door. There was some shuffling, and then the door swung open.

“Oh...It’s you.” Stacy Rodriguez stood in front of me wearing a light blue slip with her hair tousled all over her head.

Did he just have sex with her?

She pursed her lips and shook her head. “Jonathan!” She glared at me before walking back inside. “He’ll be right out, Claire.”

I began to count the seconds with nervous taps of my foot. I was on the verge of more tears when I realized that five minutes had gone by.

I took a step forward, tempted to step inside and confront him, but I saw him walk across the room. He took a long sip from his glass and slammed it down on the table. Then he turned towards me.

He came to the door and stared into my eyes, expressionless. He opened his mouth to speak, but then he shook his head and started to close the door.

“Wait!” I held my hand against the doorknob. “Please listen to me, Jonathan! I am so sorry—I didn’t know what to say! You caught me off guard and you know I’m—you know I’m not the public-type but that doesn’t mean that I don’t love you. I do. And I want to be with you. Please just...I’ll go get Damien, bring him here, and tell him that—”

“Miss Gracen, I don’t have time for any unscheduled meetings. I have enough on my plate this week with seminars and tech demonstrations.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his business card, handing it to me. “Feel free to schedule a meeting with my secretary at your earliest convenience. However, I’m booked through the end of the year so don’t expect an immediate appointment.”

“What? Jonathan, you can’t be serious. Please let me—”

“Security?” He held his phone up to his ear. “I have an unapproved guest bothering me at my suite and I’m not exactly sure where she came from or where she belongs.”

I gasped.

“Enjoy the rest of the conference, Miss Gracen.” He shut the door in my face.

“Wait!” I knocked on the door again, as forcefully as I could manage. “Open the door, Jonathan! You didn’t mean that! Come back! Come back!” I started kicking at it, twisting at the doorknob, screaming at the top of my lungs.

Before I knew it, Greg was picking me up and carrying me back onto the private elevator.

“Put me down, Greg! I need to talk to him! Don’t let him do this to me! He said he doesn’t know me and you know that’s not true!” I’d never behaved so erratically in my life. “Please! I need to tell him I’m sorry again! He didn’t understand me! Please! Please!”

He set me down on the floor as soon as the doors shut and hit fifty two—Damien’s floor. He ignored my pleas and kept his face completely stoic.

When the doors opened again, he gently grabbed me by my shoulders and walked me down the hall to my room.

He pulled another handkerchief from his jacket, and as if he knew that I was too broken to do anything but cry, he wiped away my tears as they fell—waiting until they’d completely stalled.

He reached into his pocket and handed me a bottle of Benadryl. “I suggest you tell Mr. Edwards that you were lost and ended up at the gift shop on the other side of the resort. He called the front desk twice, wondering if you’d bought your medicine yet.”