Mid Life Love (Mid Life Love #1)(42)

“I’m sorry. I’m just really exhausted and I—”

“No need to apologize. I knew you were tired when you came in...Turn over.”

I groggily rolled over and he started massaging my back.

“Long day?”

“Long weekend...I think I’ve had seven hours of sleep over the past three days. Promo sweeps are the worst part of being a marketing director because the clients expect so much. We were on the bridge all day Saturday and here all day yesterday...It probably didn’t help that we kept ordering take-out food every three hours...”

“You should’ve called me. I would’ve had a chef team stationed here for you all.”

“You wouldn’t have done that.” I exhaled as he pressed his palms into my back.

This feels so good...

“I would have, especially if I had known you were here.”

“Good to know, but ‘calling you’ and ‘talking to you on the phone’ fall outside of the strictly sex rule. Remember?”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with us talking on the phone, Claire. As a matter of fact, I’m going to call you tomorrow night, and you’re going to answer.”

“I’ll think about it.”

I heard him laugh, and then I felt his hands move further down my back.

“I think you should call in sick tomorrow and get some rest,” he said.

“So you can show up to my house uninvited?”

“No.” He planted a kiss on the back of my shoulder. “It’s because you really need to catch up on your sleep. You’re no good to the company if you’re this exhausted.”

“Oh...Well, I’ll consider that.”

“Good.”

Chapter 9

Jonathan

My secretary called my line. “Mr. Statham?”

“Yes?”

“Your mother is here for lunch sir.”

“Send her in please.”

Seconds later, my mother came into my office wearing a pale gray suit. Her make-up was done to perfection, and it looked like she’d been taking care of herself—for all of one month. Her light blue eyes still looked as clear and optimistic as they did on her graduation day, but I wasn’t getting my hopes up. She’d relapsed way too many times for me to actually believe she’d change.

She sat down at the desk and my eyes veered towards the small box that was protruding from her jacket.

“I thought you said you quit smoking.” I sighed.

“Yeah, crystal meth, not cigarettes. They’re practically harmless.”

I shook my head and grabbed the cigarettes out of her pocket. “Dropping one bad habit for another isn’t the best idea. Do you want me to buy you some nicotine patches?”

“Why would I want that, Jonathan?”

“So you can stop killing yourself and live to see sixty.”

“Oh, you’re a health expert now? I guess being a billionaire makes you think you know everything, huh?”

“Everyone knows smoking is bad for you. It’s on the damn box.”

I should’ve never agreed to this...

“But it’s even worse for a former meth head right? I bet me being here embarrasses the hell out you. Doesn’t it? I bet you don’t want any of your rich little friends to see that your drugged out mommy is once again fresh out of rehab and—”

“Okay, just stop. Stop right now.” I shook my head. “I agreed to meet with you once a week for your benefit. Not mine. So, if you plan on coming up here to make me feel guilty about being successful, you’re wasting your time...We should just try this again next week.”

“What?” She looked hurt. “You want me to leave?”

“Yes. Now.”

“I’m...I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to say any of that. It’s just that sometimes I’m so out of it because I don’t have a real outlet anymore and...I’m so sorry, Jonathan. I—”

“It’s okay. We’ll just try again next week.” I walked over and hugged her. “We need to do this right if we’re going to do it at all. I don’t want to be frustrated with you, and I don’t want you frustrated with me. Just leave the cigarettes in your car next time.”

She gave me a half smile. “Okay...I’ll see you next week.”

I walked her out of my office and hit the elevator button for her. As soon as she was gone, I crashed behind my desk and held my head in my hands.

My mother was the only person who could get under my skin in a matter of seconds. No matter how hard I tried to be polite, how hard I tried to be helpful, she always had something negative to say—as if I was the one who ruined her life.

She’d done that to herself and I was still extremely angry with her for not realizing that.

I often wondered why she couldn’t have been a normal mother who actually gave a shit about her kids, one who helped with homework and actually made dinner from time to time. Instead, my mother—and my father, were passed out high most of the time, leaving me and my little sister starving; forcing me to go dumpster diving late at night for my neighbors’ leftovers.

I’d wasted way too many years worrying about my parents and I refused to let them get to me anymore. I had other things on my plate, like Claire Gracen.