“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 Coldplay’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!”