Mid Life Love (Mid Life Love #1)(64)

She hesitated and I almost jumped up and kissed her in broad daylight, right in front of him and anyone else that cared to watch.

“I’m seeing someone else, Matthew...”

“Well...” He smiled. “Let me know if it doesn’t work out, okay? I think you and I would be good together. We have a lot in common...” He looked her over one last time before he walked away.

I can’t believe this woman. She has some. f**king. nerve.

Mr. Henderson resumed his run and Claire walked back over to the bench.

“I think we should get out of here before anyone else shows up.” She sighed. “It’s almost nine o’ clock so—”

“Are you ashamed of me, Claire?”

“What? No, of course not. I—”

“What’s the reason behind keeping us dating a secret again? The employee policy has been changed for quite some time now.”

“Because you’re the CEO and I’m a mid–level marketing director. It’s already complicated enough with the age gap, but our positions are—”

“Do you want a f**king promotion? Do you want a seat on the goddamn board? What position do you f**king want because I’ll make it happen today. What do I need to do to make sure people know that you’re taken and not interested because you sure as hell don’t know how to make that clear!”

“Excuse me?” She scoffed. “I don’t need you to insult me by acting like you’re in control of—”

“What position do you want?”

“It’s not about the position, Jonathan.” She seethed. “It’s about me knowing better than to date the CEO in the first place, who is undoubtedly the most jealous and possessive man I’ve ever met.”

“You left out the sexiest.”

She rolled her eyes and stood up. “I parked my car on the other side of the lake. I’ll see you at work on Monday.”

“Stop.” I reached out and grabbed her arm. “I was more than honest with you. I told you I’m the jealous type and I meant that. I don’t want to see you with anyone else and I don’t want people thinking you’re on the market...What do I need to do to make sure that happens?”

“Stop being so damn childish.”

“I’m not being childish. I’m protecting what’s mine.”

“I’m not—”

“You’re not what? Mine? Is that what you were about to say?”

She crossed her arms and let out an exasperated sigh.

“Why did you let him touch you here?” I ran my fingertips across her cheek. “I didn’t like that...”

“How was I supposed to know that he was going to touch me? I can’t read minds... We really need to leave before the morning rush. Mr. Barnes runs here sometimes, as well as a few of my associates...”

“Where are you headed?” I slipped my arm around her waist.

“Home.” She tried to move my hand, but I tightened my grip.

“I don’t think so.”

“Jonathan, I am going home. Right now. Deal with it.”

“No. You’re not. You’re coming with me.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “We need to have another discussion and make sure the two of us are on the same page. I don’t think you fully understand what being mine means.”

“Fine. So we’re only going to talk?”

“Yes...Right after I f**k the shit out of you.”

Chapter 14

Jonathan

“Could you please stop filling my office with hundreds of flowers every day? This is getting ridiculous!” Claire texted me.

“I don’t want anyone thinking you’re available.”

“No one thinks I’m available! I told you no one here has ever tried to talk to me but you (except for Saturday), and I’m starting to rethink our arrangement...”

“Are you threatening me, Claire? You should see how people look at you when you step into meetings or when you walk down the hall. No one ever tried to talk to you because of that damn fraternization policy and they assumed you wouldn’t give them the time of day.”

“I don’t make idle threats.”

“I look forward to being punished. See you this evening.”

“Mr. Statham?” The therapist cleared her throat. “Are you ready to begin now?”

I tried not to roll my eyes. I’d hired a mediator to speak with my mother and me once a week since she and I couldn’t be in the same room for more than five minutes without arguing.

Even though my mother thought this was a brilliant idea, I was beginning to have second thoughts; she didn’t look too composed today—her hair was in a frizzy ponytail, her pants weren’t ironed, and she reeked of beer and ashes.

“Yes, I’m ready.”

“Good.” She clasped her hands together. “We’ll start with a few simple questions to see what we’re dealing with. Mrs. Statham—I mean, Denise—what do you hope to accomplish by these sessions?”

“I want my son to respect me again...I want him to welcome me back into his life so we can start over.”

“Okay...” The therapist jotted down a few notes. “And what about you, Jonathan? What do you hope to gain from this?”