Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CLAIRE/JAY
Anna knocked twice before cracking the door. Claire smiled and waved her inside, phone pressed to her ear with Molly on the other end.
"Well, speak of the devil. Here’s the amazing Anna now, carrying a certain little black bag." Claire winked at her assistant. Anna placed the gift bag on the desk with a sly grin.
"Animal, vegetable, or mineral?" Molly asked.
"Well, give me a minute. I haven't even opened it yet."
"What was yesterday's gift again?" Molly asked.
"Bath bombs."
"Oh, right." Molly laughed. "Have you scrubbed his back yet?"
"You already know the answer to that.”
“What about his front?”
“Molly!”
"When are you two gonna stop with this little game of yours and get down to business?" Molly asked.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're jealous."
"I am. I absolutely am. I don't deny it. Hamish never sends me funny little gifts."
"What?" Claire howled. "You're unbelievable, you know that? Hamish surprised you with a diamond and emerald bracelet last week. There’s no telling what he spent.”
"When are you gonna learn? Price does not equal sentiment," Molly said firmly.
"Then you should give it back," Claire said.
"Hell, no! I'm not stupid.”
Claire stared at the bag for a moment—the same one that he'd used to deliver the Nancy Chen CD.
She'd thought it odd when he asked to have it back the following day, when they'd met for lunch a second time.
The same black gift bag had found its way back to her desk multiple times.
Each time she rifled through layers of brightly colored tissue to find something different.
Not anything serious or of great expense.
And somehow, he never failed to deliver an item that had been mentioned in their lunch time conversation the day before.
"Any guesses?" Molly asked.
"We talked about so many things yesterday. I have no idea."
"You've had lunch together every day for almost two weeks,” Molly said. “What could you possibly still have to say to each other?"
"We're never at a loss,” Claire said.
"You've got to run out of words at some point."
Claire shrugged. "Hasn't happened yet."
"So, what do you talk about?"
"Everything. Nothing. I don't know, Molly. What do you and Hamish talk about?"
"We don't waste time talking," Molly said.
Claire made a noise of disgust. "Gross."
"The man is insatiable. And completely Viagra-free."
"Molly! Enough!" Claire said sharply.
Molly laughed. “I'm just teasing. So, are you gonna open it or not?"
"I'd kind of like to wait a little while."
"What?” Molly said. “The girl who opened all her Christmas presents early every year and then rewrapped them?"
"I've matured, Molly."
"You're sinking like a stone, Claire. Just open the damn thing. Or at least read me the card."
The cards were another playful game between them.
Each one written in the same form. Just a restaurant, a time, and a quote from a famous movie.
Claire had to guess the movie—no Googling allowed.
She had until the server arrived to take their drink order to offer up her answer or else pick up the tab for their meal.
He had yet to stump her, and even if he had, he’d still pick up the check.
Claire opened the card and read the details to Molly.
"One-thirty is kind of late for lunch, don't you think?" Molly said.
"This may surprise you, but we both have actual work to do."
"Is there a quote?"
"Now don't ruin it for me,” Claire said. “I want to figure it out on my own."
"You know I never know the answers," Molly said.
"Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine," Claire read aloud.
"Well, that should make you feel right at home. The man owns a gin joint. And we all know how you love your gin and tonic."
Gin and tonic. Gin and tonic. Calvin’s cocktail of choice, no matter the occasion.
In all her noonday rendezvous with Jay, she’d yet to mention Calvin.
Of course he'd crossed her mind. She thought about him at least once a day, triggered by something ridiculous like a silly pun made by a co-worker or an ad for his favorite brand of toothpaste.
She longed to tell Jay everything—and she'd come very close.
There'd been one afternoon when they'd found themselves side-by-side, back on their confessional bench as he'd jokingly dubbed it, when she started to share every guilt-ridden detail.
But the words just wouldn't come. Once, Jay made a comment about the mystery ring she wore in Jamaica.
She dismissed it at the time, and they laughed and quickly moved on to another topic.
Thinking back now, she could see it was less of a passing comment and more of a nudge.
"Even I know that one. It’s Maltese Falcon." Molly's comment brought her thoughts back into focus.
"What?" Claire asked.
"Humphrey Bogart. Maltese Falcon."
"Right actor, wrong movie,” Claire said. “It's Bogart, but it’s from Casablanca."
“I told you I'm no good at this," Molly whined.
"Listen, I'm going to have to call you back." Perspiration broke out on the back of Claire’s neck. Her office suddenly grew stuffy, and she quickly removed her blazer.
"But you haven't opened the—."
"I'll call you back, I promise,” Claire said.
She ended the call, grabbed the gift bag, and headed for the elevator.
Anna had stepped away from her desk. Claire could slip out for a minute and be back before being missed.
The walls of the office closed in around her.
She needed to get outside. Fresh air. Change of scenery. Anything to clear her cloudy head.
She flopped down on their bench, now completely out of breath.
Masses of moving bodies swarmed the space around her.
Claire closed her eyes for a moment to regain a mental foothold.
She could picture Jay beside her, dressed in a suit, straight from his office.
Every single lunch date had ended in the exact same locale—the bench where she now sat.
Only this time, instead of sharing laughter and smiles with a handsome man, she sat alone with her guilt.
Molly's one teasing comment had unexpectedly re-opened a Pandora's Box of concealed emotions.
Emotions she thought she had a handle on.
Claire’s thoughts turned to that fateful night, when everything in her world turned upside down. A Christmas Eve that started with disappointment and ended with devastation. A night that taunted her with the same cruel question. Why did I send Liz that stupid text?
A light breeze swirled around her, drying the sweat on the back of her neck.
The colorful tissue paper flapped in the wind.
Her smile returned as she reached to see what new treat he'd sent by way of messenger.
She'd begged him to stop with all his silly little presents.
Deep down, she didn't want him to stop. Ever.
Her hand disappeared down into the folds of the tissue paper and returned with something she hadn't expected.
An apple. Her smile grew wider and she couldn't help but laugh out loud.
With a shake of her head, she took a big bite of the fruit and headed back inside.
Anna hung up the phone just as she caught sight of Claire. "Where have you been?"
"I went out for a little fresh air. Why?" She could see the urgency on her assistant's face.
"Because Isaac just called a meeting. At one-thirty."
"What?" Claire gasped. "Why?"
"No idea,” Anna said. “All I know is that his memo was marked urgent. What time’s your lunch date?"
"One-thirty." Claire said, her mouth turning down.
"Can you call him?” Anna asked. “Maybe you could reschedule."
"He's in a meeting himself, hence the lateness of our date."
"Let me go to the meeting in your place," Anna offered. "I'll tell Isaac that you— "
"No, you can’t do that." Claire consulted her watch, making mental calculations. "But I might ask you to go deliver a message for me."
"To Mr. Avery?"
"Would you mind?” Claire asked. “He’ll be at that little Italian place around the corner."
"Of course not. How will I know him?"
"Just look for the sexy man with smart glasses and a smile that can stop traffic."
Claire grinned and tossed the apple core in Anna's wastebasket.
After speaking with the hostess, Anna headed to a table in the back toward her target. He appeared anxious, his eyes fixed firmly on the entrance.
"Jay Avery?" Anna asked.
"Yes?" He studied her with a curious expression.
She extended her hand. "I'm Anna Fairchild, Claire Jordan's assistant."
"Is everything alright? Is Claire okay?" Jay stood so fast he knocked his chair over.
"She’s fine. I didn’t mean to scare you. She was called into a last-minute meeting and won't be able to make it today. She asked that I give you this."
Anna held out an envelope. Jay took it, his eyes filled with intrigue. He studied his name, written in a script so perfect it could have been professionally printed. After a moment, he tucked the envelope into the pocket of his suit coat.
"Thank you so much for playing messenger,” he said. “May I offer you a drink? A glass of wine or something?"
"I'd love nothing more, but unfortunately, duty calls. I have to get right back."
"Will you tell Claire that I'll give her a call later?" Jay asked.
"Certainly." Anna nodded. “Enjoy your lunch.”
The woman turned and walked away. Jay pulled the envelope from his pocket. He tore it open and found a tasteful note card bearing her monogram. He laughed to himself as he read her short message.
Chez Claire - 7:30 p.m.
Dress code: casual
Text me for my address.
"There must be something between us, even if it's only an ocean."
Claire xo