“How am I supposed to get home in this?” She was fuming now, and I could tell she was trying her best not to slap him. “Why would you deliberately slash my tires? Towing the car wasn’t enough?”
“Well ma’am, we do sell tires here if you’re interested. We currently have a free installation promotion if you buy—”
“Shut the f**k up.” She shook her head. “And get away from me. Right now.”
He backed away from her with his hands raised in defeat. He pulled a “tire sale” flyer from his pocket and slipped it to me before disappearing.
“I’m sorry about your car—again.” I waited for her to look at me. “I didn’t know that they—”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll just remember not to park my car in the ‘nine to five only’ zone from now on. Are you going to prevent me from calling a cab this time too?”
“Why don’t you drive my car home? I’ll have yours taken to a body shop and have it back at corporate for you tomorrow.”
“What?” She looked confused. “You’re offering to let me drive your—” She looked over at my car and shrugged. “What type of car is that?”
I smiled. “It’s a Bugatti.”
“Right. And you’re taking my car to a body shop? What’s the catch? You think doing that will make me go out with you?”
“No catch. I think you’ve suffered enough disappointment for one day. That’s all.”
She studied me for a minute, looking into my eyes as if she were contemplating my offer. “I don’t want to feel like I owe you anything because of this...I’ll just call one of my friends to come get me. I’m sure—”
“There’s no catch, Claire. I’m just trying to be nice to you. Can you let me be nice to you?”
She still looked unsure, but she nodded.
“Good. Park it in lot eight tomorrow morning and leave the keys inside. I’ll park yours in lot nine and leave your keys with security.”
She grabbed a few things from her car and handed me the keys. “You sure you’re okay with letting me drive your car? Wouldn’t it be easier for you to drive me home?”
“As much as I would like to take you home, Claire...” I smiled. “I’m sure you probably think that would be inappropriate.”
She blushed. “You’re exactly right.” She slipped inside the driver’s seat, locking her eyes on mine for a few seconds before finally driving off.
I pulled out my phone. “Greg? Yes. I’m at 3465 Jefferson Street. I need a tow truck and a town car...And could you get Mr. Lane from Parking Security to call me within five minutes? I need to make an immediate change to the employee parking policy.”
I watched my Bugatti ease onto the interstate ramp from afar and sighed.
I’ve never let anyone drive that car...
Chapter 5
Claire
I woke up on my fortieth birthday feeling no different than the day before. There was no “aha-moment,” no feeling of dread, no sense of uneasiness. Nothing.
I rushed to the mirror to make sure Mother Nature hadn’t decided to throw wrinkles and creases on my face all at once—to make sure she wasn’t trying to play some cruel joke on me.
She didn’t, and she wasn’t.
I prepared for work like I always did, trying my best not to think about how sexy Jonathan Statham was or about his sleek black Bugatti that was parked right outside.
I slipped into my favorite white dress and matching blazer; I’d always admired how the ruffles flattered my curves and made my waist look two sizes smaller.
I read the birthday cards my daughters left on the kitchen table and rejoiced at the fact that they’d bought a cake from the store instead of attempting to bake one.
I was sure I would never get the chance to drive a Bugatti again, so I took the long way to work. I coasted through the residential neighborhoods, cruised past a few parks, and circled around corporate five times before pulling into the executive lot.
“Miss Gracen?” My assistant Rita met me as soon as I walked inside the doors.
“Yes?”
“First off, Happy Birthday! Second off, the Klein brothers specifically requested you to lead the ad project for their new eco-tablets. Should I tell them you’ll be available to do that?”
“Yes. That’s fine.”
“Great.” She scribbled a few things on her pad and struggled to keep up with my walking pace. “Mr. Barnes is out sick today; his wife called from the hospital. That leaves you to work with the beta script team this afternoon.”
Perfect...
“Anything else?” I pushed the door to my office open.
She and I both gasped. My office was filled with bouquets of calla lilies and roses, with white and pink balloons that completely covered my wall of windows.
Wow...
“I’m not sure when all this got here...” She scratched her head. “Anyway, I need your notes on this year’s proposed budget as soon as possible, and Mr. Statham booked a thirty minute meeting with you at eleven o’ clock.”
“What? What was that last thing you said?”
“Mr. Statham wants to meet with you at eleven o’ clock—in his office.”
About what?
“Is that all?”
“No,” she said. She pulled a small pink card off her clipboard. “Happy Birthday again, Miss Gracen. You’re way better than the last director I worked for. I really mean that.”