Free Mid Life Love by Whitney Gracia Williams Page A

her hips, the way
her emerald green blouse exposed just the right amount of cleavage.
    She looked at me
and shook her head. “This is a perfect example of why I hate working
here. Is it really necessary to tow your own employees’ cars if they stay over
late? Is that really the best way to discourage over-time? How about just
shutting off the damn time clock at the end of the day?”
    She walked past
me and sat on a bench. She pulled out her phone and groaned. “Yes...I need a cab
at Statham Industries. 130 Jennifer Drive...I’m going to Joe’s Car Tow on
Jefferson Street. Yes...No...Yes, I’ll hold.”
    “Hey.” I sat
down next to her. “I’m sorry about your car. Let me take you to get it.”
    “No thanks. I
can handle this by myself. I’m pretty sure this was a sign for me to start
looking for a new job.”
    “No, I’m pretty
sure it was a sign for you not to park your car in the ‘nine to five
only’ zone.”
    Her jaw dropped
and she narrowed her eyes at me.
    “It was a joke.”
I smiled. “Lighten up. I’ll take you there. It’ll save you money and the forty
minute wait.”
    “Thank you once
again, but I’ll be fine. Have a great Thursday, Mr. Statham.” She turned away
from me and spoke into her phone. “Yes...By credit card. Yes. I’m ready now.” She
pulled out her credit card. “It’s a VISA and the number is three, zero, one,
seven, eight, one—”
    I took the card
out of her hand and walked to my car. I fastened my seat belt and heard her
tapping on my window seconds later.
    I rolled it down
and raised my eyebrow.
    “I know it may
be difficult for you,” she said, crossing her arms, “but could you please act
like a mature adult and give me my credit card back? They won’t pick me up
unless they have the full number.”
    “The quicker you
get in, the quicker we can get your car.”
    She took a deep
breath and glared at me. “I’m going to ask you one more time to give me my
credit card...Please give me my credit card back, Mr. Statham. Now .”
    “Get in the car,
Claire.”
    “I told you no.”
She held her hand out. “Please be a gentleman.”
    “You’re right.
Where are my manners?”
    I stepped out of
the car and walked around to the passenger’s side, opening the door for her.
When she didn’t make a move, I lifted her into my arms and carried her over to
her seat, ignoring her exaggerated sighs.
    I let my fingers
linger against her body for a few seconds longer than necessary, reveling in
the feel of her soft skin. I shut her door and walked back over to my side of
the car, revving it up before she could decide to get out.
    “Put your
seatbelt on.” I clicked mine into place. “Claire?”
    I reached over
her shoulder and buckled her strap for her, resisting the urge to snap off her
shirt. Ignoring the intense glare she was giving me, I sped off towards the
highway.
    “Thank you for
the ride, Mr. Statham.” She cleared her throat twenty minutes into the ride.
    “Thank you for
accepting it. Am I de-invited to your birthday party now?”
    “No.” She looked
out her window. “You can still come if you want.”
    I was coming
regardless...
    “Good. How was
your day at work?”
    “Wonderful. As
it always is, Mr. Statham.”
    I turned off at
the next exit. “Please call me Jonathan.”
    “I prefer Mr.
Statham. It helps me keep in mind why I will never go out with you.”
    I laughed. “I
love a woman with a sense of humor.”
    I pulled into
the towing lot and parked right outside the holding office. Claire hastily
unbuckled her seat-belt, but I reached over and put my hand over hers.
    “Wait here. I’ll
have them pull it out front for you. It’s the least I can do.”
    I walked inside
the small building and the receptionist blushed. “How can I help you today,
sir?”
    “I’m here to
retrieve a car that was towed about a half hour ago from Jennifer Drive. It’s a
light gray—”
    “Audi Q7?” She
pulled a folder from the shelf above her desk. “My