Chapter 6

John couldn't stop staring at Claire. No matter how serious the conversation with potential investors got, he found himself looking for her across the room. Her elongated conversation with the stranger— whom he later discovered to be Andrew Fletcher, surprised him. 

Mark Jenkins didn't eventually show up. He had a video uploaded, apologizing for his inability to show up, which was apparently caused by the breakdown of his private jet. 

“Damn this bullshit. I know how badly you wanted to see him.” Tony whispered into John's ears. 

“Well, I guess it's not meant to be yet.” John waved it off like he wasn't hurt. He wanted business advice from him. He wanted to expand his territories and build his family business on the global stage, and he strongly believed that Mark was the man to speak to. 

“So, what do you say we take the night off, and maybe fuck some bad bitches.” Tony suggested. 

John hissed, “you know my answer already.” He rolled his eyes. 

“And what's your answer? You’re interested, right?” Tony pressed. 

“Hell no!” 

“C'mon, I know it's your loss, but you should…” Tony was saying when his voice suddenly and slowly trailed off as he saw Claire approaching them. 

“Damn bro, that bitch is fire.” Tony exclaimed, pointing him to Claire’s direction. 

“Tch, mind your language, Tony!” He hit him on the arm gently, stretching out his hand for Claire. She took his hand, and Tony gasped. 

“This is the lady you spoke about.” Tony chuckled, surprised that John the celibate could pull such a beauty. 

“Claire, meet Tony, my irresponsible friend,” John said. Tony cackled while Claire just smiled. “Tony, meet Claire, my wife.” 

“It's so nice to finally put a face to the name.” Tony said, holding her hand like his life depended on it. 

“Same here?” Claire responded, unsure if John had ever mentioned his name. Heck, they barely even spoke about their personal lives. 

“She's gorgeous, man.” Tony whispered into John's ear. He nonchalantly nodded it off. 

“I think we should head out now, since Mr. Mark isn't showing up.” Claire suggested. 

“I'll have someone bring the car around.” John said, snapping his fingers. 

“I think I'd make my way home.” Claire muttered. 

“If we're to sell being a couple, we have to act like one.” John said, holding her hand out of the blue. She was a little shocked, but she let him. 

He led the way out, waving to people that were around as they headed out. Claire could hear people whispering, calling her a gold digger. Someone even went as far as calling her a prostitute. John didn't hear any of these , else he'd have instantly shut them up. 

Claire saw Abraham and Rebecca having the time of their lives, giggling and laughing like they were all alone in a room. Claire felt a sting in her chest. She wished for a split second that it was her, and at the same time felt intense hatred for them. 

How did the same Abraham that could go days without reaching out to her, and was always so angry and disturbed become so funny that he was making jokes and being all touchy? She thought to herself. She was almost sorrowful.

John grabbed the keys to his car, opened the car seat for her, and hurried to the driver's seat and drove off. 

“Erm… you're going in the opposite direction.” Claire pointed out. 

“I think you should stay in the penthouse with me tonight.” John shrugged. Claire inhaled sharply. “Relax, I'm not going to touch you.” 

“Why are we going to your penthouse then?” Claire asked, a little uptight. 

“You shouldn't be at your apartment tonight. Two reporters have been following us in the car behind all night, if you haven't noticed.” John said, and Claire turned back to check. She only realized that they were being followed after he said it. 

“This is a sports car, right? Can't you just evade them?” Claire asked innocently. 

“There are so many cops out tonight for reasons I don't know yet. Let's not do that.” John persuaded. “And spending a night with me isn't as bad as you think it'd be.” 

“I have to be in the library by 8AM tomorrow morning.” Claire declared like it would be an excuse. 

“That's fine, I'll take you myself or have the chauffeur take you.” 

“Okay.” Claire shrugged defeatedly, feeling a little uncomfortable about their arrangement. She sent her location to Andrew just in case anything unexpected happened. 

They arrived at the penthouse, and the reporters were still behind them. 

“This is not the Rhodes’ penthouse, is it?” Claire asked. 

“We own more than half the penthouses in this city, Claire. This is my favourite.” John said, leading her into the penthouse. Several flights up, and they finally arrived in his room. 

John helped Claire ease in without looking at her too much to avoid making her more uncomfortable than she already was. He turned on the heater, and changed into ash coloured joggers and a black singlet. 

“You can change into anything comfortable in my wardrobe.” John said to Claire who was checking out his art collections. She found him slightly intriguing. His choice of art collections even interested her more. 

She slipped into his room, showered, and changed into one of his oversized polos. 

John burst into a gentle laugh as she walked out. He was apparently making food. 

“Why are you laughing?” Claire asked, wondering what was so amusing. 

“The polo reaches your knees.” He laughed, and she chuckled. 

“You're a clown.” Claire rolled her eyes, walking over to him. 

John had made two plates of pancakes, and he passed one over to her. He opened the fridge, and leaned in a little. 

“What would you like with it?” John asked her while she watched, completely surprised. 

“Any juice.” She responded. “Are you sure this wouldn't taste terrible?”

“Wanna make a bet?” John chuckled. 

“No, you sound a little too confident.” Claire responded. He poured them drinks, and they started eating. 

“Oh, this is nice.” Claire admitted. 

“What can I say? I'm a chef.” He said, and she rolled her eyes. 

“Please…” 

“How do you know Andrew Fletcher? I hear he's close to Mark Jenkins.” John finally asked the question that had been on his mind the whole evening. 

“I kinda know a lot of people, and I just happen to know him.” Claire responded, trying to think of an answer that wouldn't erupt more questions. “He visits the library often.”

“Oh,” John said, nodding his head, “that's interesting.”

“Why are you suddenly bothered about him?” Claire questioned. 

“Well, I've been trying to speak with Mark Jenkins, and I was hoping to use Mr. Andrew as a first step I guess.” John shrugged, unsure why he was telling her. It wasn't like she could help him. 

“Well, Mr. Mark also visits the library once in a while. I'd say you shouldn't sweat much.” Claire said, and John gasped. 

“How come they visit your library so much?” He asked innocently. 

“Hey, don't get offensive now, but I have one of the best libraries.” Claire shrugged it off, focusing on her meal. 

“Like I said, he doesn't like to be idolized.” Claire said, now feeling very comfortable. “Just speak to him like a partner and pitch whatever idea you've got. I'm pretty sure he'd love it.” 

“I actually just need his advice and his views.” John shrugged, watching Claire eat now. 

“Oh , trust me, I give better advice.” She rolled her eyes, and he chuckled. 

She finished eating, and then jumped off the tall stool. She couldn't quite remember the last time she had such a good meal. 

“Do you want to watch a movie together?” The question almost escaped John's lips, but he couldn't be caught slacking. Claire yawned almost immediately, and he was grateful he didn't bother asking. She went into his room without saying a word, and she came back in less than a minute. 

His eyes caught the golden anklet she wore as she walked back. She had the poise and gait of a model. Claire was hoping he didn't think she was ugly. After all, he had looked at her longer than she was comfortable with. 

“I'll take the bed, you sleep on the couch.” She said, throwing a pillow at him. 

John scoffed, nodding at her. 

“Good night, Claire.” 

“Good night, John Rhodes.”