“Miss Gracen?” She looked up at me. “Are you okay? Would you like me to have someone bring you a set of dry clothes? A cup of hot coffee perhaps?”
I shook my head. I was drenched from head to toe, but I was too distressed to feel anything.
“I need to speak to Jonathan.”
She sighed and looked down at her hands. “He’s not accepting any unscheduled appointments.”
“Bullshit, Angela. He’s back there and you know it. Tell him I’m here. Now.”
She picked up her phone. “Mr. Statham? I...Yes sir...” She put the phone down. “He told me to tell you to go home.”
I swallowed and pulled my phone out of my pocket, calling him for the tenth time since I’d left Starbucks.
It didn’t even ring twice. He hit ignore.
“Angela, please...” I knew she had the only other key to his door. “Could you just let me in and I’ll deal with whatever he says?”
“I’m sorry, Miss Gracen. I can’t afford to lose this job. He made the orders very clear.” She pulled a notepad and an envelope from her drawer. “I can make sure he gets your message though. I’ll make sure he reads it.”
I felt tears falling down my face and nodded to say ‘Thank you.’ I scribbled down my message, signing it with an ‘I love you’ and then I slowly drove myself home. Alone.
And I kept driving myself to the same empty house for the rest of the week...
Thursday September 18, 2014
Jonathan
I don’t have shit to say.
Chapter 13
Jonathan
I stared out my office window, watching heavy sheets of rain fall over the city. As hard as I tried to rationalize what I’d seen in that parking lot, I couldn’t help but feel hurt.
My heart damn near broke at the sight of seeing her with someone else, but once I realized it was him—her ex-husband, it practically shattered.
Why didn’t she call me?
I knew there had to be a logical explanation—some type of reason, so I picked up my phone to call her, but there was already a call waiting.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Statham?” It was a high pitched voice. Miss Corwin.
“Good afternoon, Miss Corwin. Can I help you with something?”
“Yes, I um...I’ve been leaving messages with your fiancée, but she hasn’t gotten back to me. I’ll be staying in town for the next few weeks, so would you mind leaving me a wedding invitation with your secretary? I asked Miss Gracen to mail me one, but she probably forgot.”
“When was this?”
“When was what?”
“When did you ask her to mail you the invitation?” I knew damn well we’d made her one. In fact, we’d made her ten, just in case she wanted to incorporate them into the reception space somehow.
“Um...Well, I asked her that night you came to L.A., remember? And I called her two weeks ago about it.”
“And you never received it?”
“No...” Her voice was soft. “I’m sorry if I’m causing you any trouble...”
“It’s no trouble. I’ll have it delivered to you personally.”
“Thank you...”
I hung up and called Milton.
“I’m on my way to your office, Jonathan.” He picked up on the first ring. “No need to act like you actually give a damn about my financial reports today.”
“That’s not why I’m calling.”
“Of course it isn’t. What do you want?”
“Have you received my wedding invitation in the mail yet?”
There was a sudden knock on my door and I walked over to answer it.
“Would you like me to keep talking into the phone?” Milton walked into my office. “It wouldn’t surprise me if you did.”
“Did you receive a wedding invitation?”
He shrugged. “No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m pretty sure, but I don’t need one of those to be there if that’s why you’re asking...”
I shook my head. “No...I’m just...I’m just wondering.”
He asked me to give him a few minutes to get his files organized and I took a seat at my desk. I sent out a text to five people, five people who I knew I had personally told Claire to invite—addresses and all, and waited for them to tell me if they had received their invitation in the mail.
Their responses came back instantly: “No.” “No...” “No.” “I need an invitation to get in?” “No.”
What the fuck?!
I prepared to text Angela to get to the bottom of it, but I accidentally hit my email app and saw a message labeled: URGENT. It was from our cake designer:
To: Statham, Jonathan
From: Elegant Cakes, Inc.
Mr. Statham,
My name is Jacqueline Russell and I am the manager of Elegant Cakes. Per my conversation with your fiancée two weeks ago, I wanted to make sure that you were canceling your complete order which includes: One five tiered wedding cake, two three tiered dream cakes, and the customized frozen anniversary cake.
Since your name is on the contract and we have your signature on file, we’ll need you to verify that this information is correct.
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.