Mid Life Love: Complete Series Boxed Set (Books 1 & 2 )

by Whitney Gracia Williams

  She was an extremely attractive older woman—I guessed at least fifty years old, and I could tell by the way she was looking at me that she was the assertive type.

  “Good evening.” I smiled. “I just came in looking for someone particular.”

  “She’s right in front of you.” She rubbed her hand across my chest and batted her eyes.

  Oh god...“Umm...”

  “You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t interested in older women.” She reached up and playfully ran her fingers through my hair. “Those young girls don’t know how to treat a man right, do they? But I do. We should get out of here before someone tries to steal you away from me. My place?”

  I started to say, “I’m sorry. I can’t do that,” but my breath caught in my throat once I felt her hand sliding down my pants.

  I gently grabbed her hand and moved it away. “I’m not here looking for—I don’t... I was really here looking for someone else.”

  “Oh my god! I’m sorry!” She gasped. “I thought...I’m so sorry.” She looked embarrassed.

  “If it’s any consolation,” I said as I adjusted my pants, “you’re very attractive and I’m sure you’ll find the right guy soon.”

  Before she could reply, I turned around and bolted out of there.

  I walked into the security director’s office and shut the door.

  “You’re here on time?” My best friend Corey rolled his eyes. “What am I supposed to be doing for you again? Stalking some woman you met?”

  “It’s not stalking.”

  “Whatever you call it, it’s highly illegal. But since you said it was love at first sight, I guess I can make an exception.”

  “First of all, it’s not love. Second of all, I don’t even know who she is.”

  “So, why am I hacking into the security footage of Pacific Bay Lounge at seven in the morning?”

  I sighed. “Because you’re my best friend and an employee. Don’t act like this is against your morals or something, Corey. You do this all the time.”

  “I do, huh?” He laughed. “What’s the time frame?”

  “New Year’s Eve between eleven thirty and midnight.”

  He began typing away at his keyboard and the twenty massive screens that covered his office wall began to illuminate in grids and static.

  “Wait. You were having a business dinner that late at night? Since when do you agree to those?”

  “Since the client is worth five hundred million dollars.” My eyes focused on the screens that were now showing people walking in and out of the lounge. “She was wearing a short black dress. Is there any way you could color code this thing by clothes or search for people by their hair color? She’s a redhead.”

  He looked at me and raised his eyebrow. “You said you saw her on the pier, right? I’ll just tap into those cameras...Give me a second. They have some pretty outdated software...And surprise, there’s no audio, only visual...”

  The screens started to show the pier action in slow motion. People were lounging on couches, drinking beers, and dancing next to the speakers.

  “Wait.” I stepped closer to the screens. “That’s her. Pause it.”

  The images suddenly froze and I looked the woman over again.

  She was walking out onto the deck with a beer in her hand, slightly pursing her plump, pink lips. From the angle of the cameras I could see that her fitted black dress cut right above the top of her thighs and gave way to a set of perfectly toned legs. She was even sexier than I remembered.

  “I’d probably waste company resources trying to find her too.” Corey nodded his head in approval. “You said she was fifty? She looks pretty damn good to be fifty. I say go for it. I would.”

  “What? I’m not sure how old she is. She can’t be much older than me though.”

  He pressed play on the video again and paused it when she leaned over the railing. “She has C-cups...Not bad.”

  “How old are you again?”

  “It’s a habit. If I had to guess, I would say she’s thirty or a tad bit younger. Any older than that, and she knows where the Fountain of Youth is hidden. Actually, now that I think about it, I meant to tell you that there was an article about—”

  “Please not today.” I shook my head. “You need to stop reading those conspiracy books. There’s no such thing as the Fountain of Youth.”

  “Really? Well explain Johnny Depp.” He crossed his arms.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Exactly. If I wasn’t making so much money working for you, I’d be out there trying to find it myself.”

  “Good to know. Is there any way you could access the cameras in the parking lot? I need to get her license plate number and–”

  “And what? Show up to her house and say, ‘Hey. I tried to find you at the lounge the other night but you were already gone. But don’t worry, I had my friend hack the security system so I could get your tags to get your address and come ask you out?’ Seriously?”

  “I wouldn’t say it exactly like that, but—”

  “Forget it. All the street cameras are managed and monitored through Flynn-tech and they’re impossible to hack. Trust me, I’ve tried it.”

  “So what do you suggest I do?”

  “Um, move on?” He turned off the screens. “You don’t even know her name. Yeah she’s beautiful, but there are plenty of other beautiful women out there. I’m sure you of all people can find another one in a heartbeat. Speaking of which, why don’t you give Vanessa a chance? She has no baggage, she’s insanely hot, and she practically loves you already.”

  “She’s an employee. It’s against company policy. I specifically ordered that a no-fraternization clause be included when I started this company, remember?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You can find yourself another pretty redhead.”

  That was true, but I’d never thought about a woman after meeting her for the first time. It usually took a couple dates or a few lengthy phone calls to keep a woman on my mind—but I hadn’t even met this woman yet.

  I’d also never asked Corey to find footage of someone I was interested in before. I’d never been that intrigued.

  I pulled into a grocery store parking lot and sighed. Thanks to a dry-cleaning mix up, I was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans and would have to run home to get another suit.

  I was supposed to be at a board meeting in an hour, but I honestly didn’t feel like going. I felt like driving back home, turning off all my phones, and pretending like I wasn’t the CEO for the rest of the day.

  Anytime I felt this way, I had to force myself to revisit painful memories of my past; memories that made me realize that I needed to be grateful for all that I had—that I could still be wandering around in a trailer park going through people’s trashcans, begging disabled neighbors for their leftovers.

  Still, sometimes that wasn’t enough. I was starting to hate my company and all the obligations that came with it.

  For the past few months, the board had been pressuring me to lay off thousands of low level employees. They swore it would save us millions, but I didn’t want to do that. If I was going to fire anyone to save money, I would lay off the people that made the most money—the senior level executives that spent more time on the golf course than they did at their desks.

  As a matter of fact, ever since I made the decision to relocate company headquarters from New York City to San Francisco six years ago, the board members had questioned my every decision—as if I hadn’t started the company myself, without their help.

  If their past donations hadn’t helped me grow my first software company from a side job in college to a billion dollar empire within a decade, I would’ve written them off years ago.

  Why did I ever bother becoming the CEO? Why didn’t I just sell the company once I dropped out of college?

  My cell phone started to ring. An Ohio number. Allen Correctional Institution.

  I debated whether or not I should answer it, letting the full chorus of Cold
play’s “Clocks” play before picking it up.

  “Father.” I answered.

  “Jonathan! How are you son?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “And how’s your company?”

  “Great.”

  “You don’t have to be so short with me all the time. I was just...I was just calling because I haven’t heard from you in a while...I wanted to say thank you for putting all that money on my books last week.” He paused. “I stocked up on honeybuns and blue shampoo...Are you going to your mother’s graduation?”

  “I always go to her graduations. She seems to graduate every year...”

  He sighed. “She’s going to stay clean this time. She promised me.”

  “Okay. I believe you,” I said like I had several times before.

  “I meant what I said last month. I want to be a part of your life again, Jonathan. I know I wasn’t the best father but...I’ve always been very proud of you and I want to do whatever I can to fix our relationship.”

  “This call is currently being monitored and recorded by the Ohio Department of Rehabilitation and Corrections. There are thirty seconds left on the call.” The all-too-familiar automated voice droned on the line.

  “Okay.” I sighed. “Well...I’ll do my best to remember that. I’ll send you a letter this week and...Don’t forget that I promised to take you out for a beer in six years. Hope you’re still looking forward to that.”

  “I am. I’ll hold you to that, son.”

  “Goodbye.” I hung up.

  I knew I should’ve been more enthusiastic about his phone call or about my mother completing drug rehab, but the excitement tended to wane after someone relapsed twelve times, after someone disappointed you so much that you no longer believed in them.

  I tried to shake the thought of my messed up parents out of my mind and revved up my car. I was about to hit the gas in reverse, but I suddenly heard the jangling of a grocery cart from behind.

  I sighed and looked in my rearview mirror, prepared to honk at whoever was there, but I saw that it was the beautiful woman I’d seen days ago.

  She was wearing a dark gray pencil skirt and a pink silk blouse, but her hair was different today. It was bone straight and the wind seemed to enjoy tossing it as she walked.

  She pushed her cart past my car without looking my way, but I still caught a glimpse of her gorgeous green eyes.

  I watched her walk inside and turned off my car.

  Before I could step out, my phone rang again. Oasis Drug and Rehabilitation Center.

  My mother.

  So much for not thinking about the past today...

  Chapter 2.5

  Jonathan

  Summer 2002

  It was raining. Hard.

  Streaks of lightning were dancing across the sky, and rain bullets were beating across my window pane.

  As I looked outside, I saw the reflections of my miserable life in the downpour: Both my parents were denied an early release from prison, my little sister had been sent to live with yet another foster family, and my own terrible excuse for a foster family was trying their hardest to convince me to stay in state for college; they knew that if I stayed, they would get a bonus check from the Children’s Welfare Office for successfully raising a child who remained in state for college.

  I knew that my life was bound to be terrible if I spent any more time in the hell hole that was Ohio, so that night I made a plan to get out.

  I told my foster parents that I’d decided to go to the University of Dayton, and that right after my graduation ceremony, I wanted to go to a nice restaurant and celebrate. The greedy look in their eyes almost made me hurl on the spot, but I kept playing the part.

  I smiled and told them I was grateful for all they’d done for me over the years. I just left out the part about them hijacking my parents’ prison letters, taking me clothes shopping at Goodwill while their biological kids were allowed to shop at real stores, and reminding me day in and day out that I would “end up just like [my] parents one day—a cracked out meth-head who deserved to rot behind bars.”

  When the day of my graduation came, I set my well thought out plan in motion: I stuffed my best pants and shirts into a backpack, five hundred dollars I’d made from secretly doing college kids’ computer science homework, and a few essentials for a life on the run.

  “What’s that backpack for?” My foster-mother Luanne walked into my room.

  “It’s my outfit I’m going to wear after the ceremony. I want to dress more casual at dinner.”

  “Oh! Of course! No one wants to get their fancy suit dirty at dinner.” She adjusted my tie. “It’s too bad you weren’t born into this family. We could’ve bought you a better suit, but you know how it is. The state only gives us enough money to feed you, not clothe you.”

  I tried not to flinch as she ran a lint-brush against my shoulders.

  “Your high school graduation is going to be the highlight of your life.” She sighed. “You probably won’t last that long in college, but don’t worry, neither me nor Bob expect you to.”

  “Thank you very much...”

  “I still can’t imagine what it must have been like to have meth-dealers as parents. It must have been awful! I think about it every day and I feel so bad for you.” She stepped back to look at me. “But then I say to myself: Luanne, thank god you saved that boy, even if it is only temporary and he becomes a druggie just like his pitiful parents. At least he’ll have some fond memories to look back on while he sits in prison!” She smiled. “I’m going to get my camera!”

  She left and I thought about jumping out the window right then and there. But I knew that was futile. We lived in the middle of nowhere and I needed the family car to get me into the city.

  My foster brother Corey walked into the room and shut the door behind him. He crossed his arms and stared at me for a long time.

  I was tempted to tell him that today would be the last day I would ever see him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. He and I had actually become great friends despite his parents’ treatment of me, and if I wasn’t so broken on the inside I would’ve stayed a little longer—just for him and his little sister.

  “I’m sorry about my parents.” He sighed. “But I want you to know that I really liked having a brother—a lot. Are you going to forget all about me and Jessica when you leave and start over? I can’t blame you if you say yes.”

  “What are you talking about? I’m not—”

  “Don’t worry.” He picked up my backpack and stuffed a brown paper bag inside. “I’m not going to tell my parents. I’ll act like I don’t know anything. Just promise me that when you prove them wrong and do something big with your life, you’ll find me and Jessica and hang out with us again.”

  “Promise. Are you still going to Notre Dame in the fall?”

  “Yeah, but you’re not going to the University of Dayton. Are you?”

  I froze. I wasn’t sure what to say. “I—”

  “I know I’m not as good as you are with computers, but you do know that I’m a master hacker right?” He laughed. “I hacked into the university’s list of confirmed students for the fall and your name wasn’t on it. You weren’t on any lists at any college that accepted you. So, I started thinking about what I would be planning if I were you, and I—”

  “I don’t want you to think that I don’t trust you, Corey. I just couldn’t—”

  “We can email each other to stay in touch. Whatever you do, don’t look back once you leave. You need to stick to buses and cabs—take alternative routes even if it forces you to go out of your way. Oh, and don’t open that brown bag I gave you until you’re out of the state.” He stood up and gave me a brief hug. “Jessica knows too by the way...She’s too hurt to say goodbye, but she understands and she says she loves you.”

  “Oh my god! Look at the two of you!” Luanne burst through my door with the camera. “I need a picture of my sons! Well, a photo of my foster son and my real son! Both of you
stand together! Smile on three! One! Two!—”

  “Hey! Kid!” The cab driver snapped me out of my thoughts. “Wake up! This is as far as forty five bucks will take you.”

  I looked outside and saw tall stone buildings, but I couldn’t make out what any of them were. I’d been hopping from bus to bus and cab to cab for days and I’d lost all sense of location because everywhere I went it was raining.

  “Thank you.” I handed him the money and stepped out of the car.

  Within seconds, the thin jacket and tattered jeans I was wearing were completely drenched. I had an umbrella in my backpack, but I knew pulling it out now was useless.

  I walked through what appeared to be a college campus—there was greenery and buildings every few feet, but each building I attempted to get into was locked.

  I apparently needed an access card to get in. A Harvard University access card.

  I’d been accepted into Harvard months ago, but I never wrote back to confirm. As soon as I’d read that their top computer science graduate from the past year was a guy who developed a mini computer—something I’d done when I was fourteen, I decided that there was nothing they could teach me.

  I saw a group of students holding the door to a lecture hall open, so I rushed past them. I walked down the hallway, peering into every classroom, cursing when I saw that they were all filled.

  Once I was at the end of the hall, I slipped inside a dark classroom and breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Nice of you to join us on time. Have a seat in the back please.” The lights came on and a blond haired man in a tweed suit stood up behind a podium. “Anytime now, son...”

  The class laughed and I walked up the steps, taking a seat in the last row.

  I ignored the itchy feel of damp denim against my skin and looked up at the board: Summer Course, Advanced Software 4100.

  All the students had laptops and state of the art data configuration boards on their desks. All of them looked way older than I was.

  I guess this is a senior level course...

  “So...” The professor moved the projector screen from the center of the room. “We’ve been deconstructing our hypothetical company ‘Beta Link’ and so far we have three people in the running for the best computer: George Hamilton II, Lindsay Franco, and William Dane. Could the three of you come up here and show the class what you’ve built please?”