We’re sorry we won’t be able to work with you on your special day,

Sincerely,

Jacqueline R.

My mind was officially blown. I couldn’t believe this shit.

“Jonathan? Jonathan?” Milton cleared his throat. “Are you there?”

I shook my head and sighed. “Go ahead...”

“Okay...” Milton handed me a folder. “Inside that folder, you’ll see that I’ve outlined your current assets, totaled your domestic and foreign bank accounts, and appraised the company’s future earnings. As you can clearly see, the future Mrs. Statham’s name is nowhere to be found because well...She did not contribute to you gaining any of these things so...”

“I thought this was a strategy meeting.” I rolled my eyes.

“It is. Angela informed me that you’ve cancelled all your appointments with the marital attorney as of this morning. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“Well, maybe you’re not thinking straight... Let me help you out: Your net worth as of this quarter is nine point eight billion. Your net worth. We live in California, a fifty-fifty split state.”

“Milton...”

“That means that if you should ever get a divorce, your-ex-wife will automatically be entitled to over four billion dollars. If you last for more than ten years and your earnings continue to grow like they have in the past, you’re looking at handing over seven to eight billion easily. Do you understand that?”

“I do.”

“Glad to hear that. I’ll arrange for the attorney to come back.”

“There’s not going to be a pre-nup, Milton.”

His jaw dropped. “I thought you just said you agreed with me.”

“There can’t be a pre-nup if I’m not getting married...”

“What?” He gasped. “You two were just here weeks ago telling me about the wedding venue...It’s over?”

I didn’t answer him.

“Jonathan?”

I sighed. “I’ll call you later tonight to go over that mistake in the master file you mentioned at this morning’s meeting. I have a feeling we’ll need more than one accounting team to sort that out.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but then he shook his head. He took his folder back and patted me on my shoulder before leaving my office.

As soon as the door closed, I leaned back in my chair and shut my eyes.

I can’t believe this shit...What the fuck is Claire thinking?

I didn’t want to jump to any conclusions about the wedding, about marrying Claire, but invitation and cake bullshit aside—what she’d pulled last week had rocked me to my core.

At first, I didn’t want to believe that I’d seen her and Ryan inside of Starbucks when I drove by. I refused to believe it. So, I’d driven around the parking lot, telling myself that Claire—my Claire, would have called me the second Ryan showed up anywhere near her. Like she promised.

I’d decided that my eyes were playing tricks on me so I simply parked my car. With flowers in tow, I’d headed towards the Starbucks, but then I saw her again—with Ryan, pressed up against her car with her fucking leg around his waist, with her lips inches away from his mouth.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get that image out of my mind...

I hadn’t been home in a week, and I had no plans to return any time soon. I was too damn angry to be anywhere near her.

When she’d broken up with me last year and went her separate way for three fucking months, I was livid. Infuriated. Inconsolable. But this recent stunt of hers was—there were no words for this shit.

What part of ‘I don’t share’ does she not understand? What part of ‘Call me ASAP if Ryan shows up’ is difficult to comprehend?

She’d been sending me numerous text messages to apologize, trying to explain her side of the story and beg me to come home, but I never answered. And I sent each and every one of her hourly calls directly to voicemail.

I didn’t want to talk to her right now. I didn’t want to talk to her ever.

“Mr. Statham?” Angela’s voice suddenly came over the intercom.

“Yes?”

“Miss Gracen is—”

“I’m not here.”

“Sir, she’s standing right outside your door.”

“I’m. Not. Here.” I gritted my teeth. “Are we clear?”

“Yes sir...”

I waited for an hour, until I was sure Claire was gone, and then I stepped outside. I walked around the corner and stood at Angela’s desk. “Did my—” I stopped myself. I’d almost said my wife. “Did Miss Gracen leave another note?”

“Yes sir.” She handed me a folded sheet of white paper and I took it into my office.

I debated whether or not I should toss it into the trash with all her other ones, but I decided to open it:

Jonathan,

I know you’re very angry with me, but please give me a chance to explain what you saw last Friday...I’m sorry I ever allowed it to happen, and it’s not what you think. I promise.

I love you and only you, and I wish you would come back home...

Yours,

Claire

I crumpled her letter into a ball and tossed it into the trash. I took a deep breath and shook my head, trying to think about what I needed to do to get this off my mind.

I called Angela back.

“Yes, Mr. Statham?”

“Is the security team meeting still going on right now?”

“Yes sir.”

I sighed. “Write this down: I want last Monday’s interior and exterior security video footage from the Powell Avenue Starbucks—everything between the hours of four o’ clock pm to seven o’ clock pm. And I want audio. The very second that Corey gets out of his meeting, ask him to put his best team on it.”

“I will sir. Is that all?”

“No.” I balled my fists. “I want them to hack into Smith & Hayes Associates in Pittsburgh and get me Mr. Hayes’ full client list. I want the name of every client he worked with before he made partner, even the clients he worked for when he was a fucking intern. I also need a list of every single law firm in Pittsburgh—big, small, independent, commercial, every last one of them.”

“I’ll make sure it gets done. Um...Are you still sending flowers to Miss Gracen this week? The order has to be put in within the next half hour if you still want to send something.”

I was silent.

“Mr. Statham? Is that a yes or a no?”

I shut my eyes and tried to block out this past week. I’d never missed a day sending Claire flowers. Even when she was in Costa Rica, I’d called a local flower shop and made sure she woke up to a new set of blooms every morning.

Not sending them felt wrong—hurtful, and even though she’d damn near made me cry last Friday, I couldn’t bring myself to say no.

I sighed. “It’s a yes, Angela...But no note—just the flowers...”

Chapter 14

Jonathan

“You don’t look too good.” Hayley slid a bottle of water across my desk. “And you barely spoke at this morning’s meeting. Are you okay?”

“No.”

“Are you living in your office now? I haven’t seen your car move all week and you didn’t come over with Claire for dinner last night...”

I didn’t answer.

She sighed and walked around to my side of the desk. “Look, I know it’s none of my business...”

“It isn’t. Did you break up with your secret boyfriend yet? I’ve noticed that your work has improved from terrible to average.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

I rolled my eyes and opened the water bottle.

“Mr. Statham?” Angela called over the intercom. “Corey’s here for your three o’clock meeting. Should I tell him your meeting with Hayley is running over?”

“No, we’re finished here. Send him in.”

Hayley gave me a hug and smiled. “I didn’t spend six hours trying on bridesmaids’ dresses for nothing, Jonathan. You better talk to her and fix whatever it is. Claire loves you and you know it.”