“You keep a stash of clothes for all your sleepovers with female employees?”

“Claire, Claire, Claire...” He sighed. “Number one, they’re my pajamas and I’ve never shared them with anyone before. Number two, you are my first sleepover guest at corporate. Period. And number three, I told you that we weren’t going to have sex tonight, but if you keep up your sarcasm, you’ll be bent over my desk in a matter of seconds.”

I bit my lip to prevent myself from smiling. “Where’s your bathroom?”

“Down the hall and to the right.”

I walked away and locked myself into the most opulent bathroom I’d ever seen. It was huge: There was a marbled Jacuzzi in the corner, a glass shower that took up half the room, and double sinks with shiny golden fixtures that reflected against the wall length mirrors.

When I stepped back into the living room, the couch had been transformed into a bed and Jonathan was tossing pillows onto it.

“Do you stay late often?” I asked.

“I try not to. I prefer to be at home, but days like this force me to every now and then.”

“Interesting...Can your driver take me back home in an hour?”

He rolled his eyes. “Get in the bed, Claire.”

“Not until you answer me.” I mocked his voice. “Or are you the only one who doesn’t have to answer questions?”

He walked over and scooped me into his arms. “Exactly,” he said as he tossed me onto the bed. “The remote is on the coffee table to your left. I’m going to read the rest of this document and then I’ll join you.”

I wasn’t sure why my heart started dancing at his last words—‘I’ll join you’—but I didn’t try to stop it this time. I watched him walk over to his desk and pick up a folder; he was soon lost in whatever he was reading.

I flipped through the channels and settled on a home renovation show. The hosts were gutting a fifties’ style galley kitchen and transforming it into a more modern one—complete with an island, a breakfast bar, and granite countertops.

While I admired their effort, I hated that they were taking so much of the home’s original character away; they could’ve at least saved the cabinets and refurbished them.

“This is the best show you could find?” Jonathan slid into bed facing me.

“I love these shows. Those designers are living my dream.”

“So why are you working here? Why not quit and pursue what you really want to do?”

“Do you know what the word ‘debt’ means?”

He pulled me close. “I wasn’t always rich...I’m just wondering why you’ve been in marketing so long if it isn’t what you really want to do.”

“My dreams had to be put on hold once I had kids...It wasn’t about me anymore. I had to do what was best for them. And I—”

Do not do this...Do not open up...This is not what you want...

“I just had to do what was best for them.” I sighed. “Do you have any children? Siblings?”

“I think you would know if I had kids by now...” He sounded confused. “I do have a little sister though.”

“Oh...I had a sister once. Does your sister work here with you?”

“No, she’s in grad school in Memphis.” He pulled me even closer so that I was nuzzled against his chest. “Were you sleeping when I called you earlier?”

“What do you mean, ‘was I sleeping’?”

“Were you sleeping or were you thinking about something?”

“Yes. I was thinking about sleeping.”

He laughed. “What time do you have to get up in the morning?”

“Eight...Are we really about to go to sleep together? You’re not going to try to do anything?”

He stared at me for several seconds, looking like he wanted to say something, something witty. Instead he planted a soft kiss on my lips and turned off the lights.

He rolled me over so my back was against his chest, and then he held me in his arms.

I woke up entwined in Jonathan’s arms and noticed that he was watching me.

“Morning.” He smiled.

“Morning. What time is it?”

“Seven. Would you like to get breakfast together or have some delivered before you leave?”

“No thank you.” I slid out of his arms and sat up. “I have a bunch of errands to run so I’ll get a head start on those.”

“Of course. Are you going to Mr. Barnes’ Zen session tonight?”

“On a Saturday? Never. My mom claims that she has a surprise for me so we’re probably going to the opera together. That’s what all her surprises are, and I’m sure she’ll want to get there two hours early.”

“Why would she want to do that? They don’t open the theatre until an hour before the show.”

“Don’t ask. She’s the eccentric type.”

He smiled and tilted his head to the side. “Should I give up on getting you to willingly go out with me?”

“Probably.” I tried not to smile and headed for the bathroom.

I managed to get out of the salon early, finish grocery shopping, balance my checkbook, sift through a few campaign documents, and stop by my daughters’ cheerleading car wash—all before six in the afternoon.

As soon as I was home, I searched through my closet for an outfit to wear tonight. My mom always suggested that I dress “for the Oscars” when we went to the opera, just in case the city newspaper decided to run our photo the next day.

I decided to wear my favorite black and silver evening dress. It was long, strapless and perfectly hugged my hips. There was also a fairly deep slit on the left side, a perfect complement to the open-toed shoes I planned to wear.

I carefully brushed on my makeup and ran my fingers through my curls. I secured the glittery diamond bracelet Jonathan had given to me for my birthday onto my wrist, and rushed out of my house.

“Mom! Mom! I’m here!” I stepped inside her house and shouted up the steps. “We have to leave in the next twenty minutes if you want to—” I noticed a blond-haired man standing in the middle of the room. “Who are you?”

“Wow...” He looked me over. “I’m Michael Clarkson. I’m—”

“He’s your date for tonight!” My mom turned the corner. “Remember? Michael, you can wait in the living room. I need to talk to Claire for a second.”

I didn’t bother waiting for him to step away. I grabbed her by the hand and dragged her into the kitchen. “Mom, what’s going on? I thought we were going to the opera. I never agreed to—”

“Surprise! See? I am capable of being spontaneous,” she said. “The girls told me how you’ve been working so many late hours over the past couple months, so I thought this would be a good way to get you out.”

Jesus...

“Mother, last time I checked, I was an adult. I don’t need you intervening in my life and I don’t need—”

“Yes, you do. You deserve to find someone else, someone who will treat you right. I liked Ryan a lot, but you can do much better. It’s never too late to find love again, and I don’t want you to end up alone...like me...”

I rolled my eyes at her not-so-subtle sympathy plea. “Who is he?”

“He’s my doctor—my gynecologist actually.”

“What!”

“Don’t worry. It’s not what you think. He’s not my direct doctor. He actually owns the practice, so for the most part he just analyzes the bacterial slides and—”

“Thank you. I’ve heard enough. You were at your doctor’s office and you told him you had a sad and depressed daughter who needed a new man in her life?”

“No, I didn’t tell him any of that. I just said you should get to know my daughter. She’s beautiful and charming. That’s all it took...He’s forty five, doesn’t have any kids, has a few investment properties on the East Coast, and he’s a doctor. Enough said. You should get to know him.”

“I can’t believe this...”

“Believe it!” She pulled me back into the living room. “Michael, Claire, you two go and have a great night together,” she said, smiling at the two of us. “I’m sure you have a lot to talk about so...” She darted her eyes towards the front door.