Prove Me Wrong Page 9

  I looked up at him, tears clinging to my lashes. “We both know both counts are false. I’m not your girlfriend and my successes are my own. But you’ve come into my life again, just like you did before. And you’re putting yourself into every aspect of my life that matters again, just like before. And then what? Are you going to pull the rug out from me again? Make me a humiliating joke again?”

  Jonah straightened up and made a motion to walk towards me but I jerked back. Even with several feet between us, I felt too close to him.

  He stopped himself but not without some effort. “Clara,” he said, his voice thick and tight with emotion, “I never once saw you in anyway as a joke. Ever. And—”

  “Whether you saw me as one or not, you did your absolute best to make sure I was one,” I said, cutting him off. I wanted to get out of here. Now. I couldn’t take anymore of this. It was too much to bring up these old pains in front of the man who had caused them.

  I shook my head. “But you won’t do that to me again,” I said, keeping my tears at bay by sheer willpower. “I won’t let you. So I’m telling you this in no uncertain terms: stay away from me, Jonah Lowell. I don’t want Losel and I don’t want you.”

  Before he could reply, I turned around to the bedroom and slammed the door, quickly running towards my discarded gown, tears blurring my vision.

  No more, Jonah Lowell. No more. These are the last tears I shed for you.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jonah

  “And Lowell Enterprises has purchased another order of ships,” Gavin reported.

  I leaned back in my seat, absorbing the information.

  Gavin Burr was one of my liaisons with Lowell Enterprises. With any big joint mergers with two sizeable companies, we needed liaisons to keep communications running smoothly and quickly.

  “Have you been able to find out what he did with the first order of ships?” I asked.

  Gavin shook his head. “But there’s been reports that Mr. Lowell has left Germany to visit an unknown friend in Saudi Arabia.”

  I raised a brow. “In Saudi Arabia?” I asked. This was interesting and definitely noteworthy.

  Gavin nodded.

  Martin was supposed to be in Germany to discuss buying out a computer chip factory there that was creating some innovative work for the medical industry. I knew the company was reluctant to sell so Martin would have to be very present and persuasive to purchase them.

  So why would he leave such a sensitive deal like that and head over to Saudi Arabia?

  “Thanks, Gavin,” I said. “Make sure you keep me informed of any changes.”

  Gavin nodded before quickly leaving my office.

  Martin had been acting quite erratically since the huge merger between Lowell Enterprises and DXC Global. It had been a large merger that included a number of deals but one of the deals had been the rights to jointly invest in a new oil firm based in the Middle East. I had seen the deal and thought it an odd one but had let it go since it didn’t require a huge amount of capital.

  Then there was the reports of Martin in Washington D.C. meeting with several high profile senators. Martin had always made sure to bankroll the right kind of candidates so he got the most benefits but he never went out of his way to meet with these political lapdogs until campaign time. But now he was out in D.C., having lunch and dinner with them.

  And then there was the order of ships. Lowell Enterprises had ships. Plenty of them. A corporation of that size had a whole fleet of cargo ships. But Martin specifically wanted another order of ships, smaller and made for carrying a lighter load of cargo.

  All of this I could’ve dismissed as some kind of wacky scheme Martin was cooking up again to pull Lowell out ahead of the pack until Gavin made his first report to me.

  The ship orders had been done through a dummy corporation.

  That had stopped me short. Martin was trying to cover his tracks. What was he doing that required him to be so shifty?

  And now, a second order of ships through this dummy corporation?

  What was that old bastard doing?

  I stood up and crossed towards the windows. I had a good view of Wall St. I looked down at the busy, bustling street. From how high I was, I could just barely make out the people that walked through the crowded streets. But seeing all the milling bodies, I wondered if one of those bodies belonged to the woman I couldn’t stop thinking about.

  Against my will, my mind immediately took me back to that morning when Clara was standing at the edge of my living room, looking so small in my shirt. Her hair was adorably mussed and her face was still flushed from sleep, giving her a warm coloring.

  It had taken all my control not to stride over to her and wrap my arms about her, wanting to press her against me forever.

  But I hadn’t. It had taken just one look at her expression to see that something was wrong.

  I closed my eyes, my back stiffening as I remembered her voice. Her gut wrenching words.

  “Do you know what happened for about two months after your left Irvington?”

  For two months, she had suffered the looks of pity and shame because of me. She had been isolated and alienated from the only thing she had left as a family.

  I had left to try and spare her the heartbreak of being with a man who barely had a functioning heart and who had never truly loved another being in his life.

  And in the end, I had caused her the exact outcome I had been hoping to spare her.

  She had experienced just what Jonah Lowell was good at: destroying a woman’s heart. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t intended it this time. It had happened all the same. It was amazing, my skill for heartbreak.

  The female population of New York City could also attest to that. Hell, Vanessa was still trying to run a smear campaign on me, not that I or anyone in the press cared anymore.

  But speaking of press, I had called the papers and given them a lesson on perpetuation of misinformation. The editors were all satisfactorily scared enough from my tone of voice that they had put up retractions online, stating that Miss Clara Daniels was not, in fact, a girlfriend of Jonah Lowell and was instead a respected and admired colleague.

  I knew it wouldn’t do much in the long run. The gossip magazines loved any new story on my love life and they were probably already running with the story of Clara Daniels as the newest catch. But I still wanted to do something to try and rectify the situation.

  It was funny. All the previous women in my life had had their hearts broken because I couldn’t give two shits about what happened to them. I was purely in it for the physical aspect. But with Clara, I was trying my damndest to protect her from my natural knack for destruction and pain and yet, every good intention was going awry.

  Well, you know what they say about good intentions, I thought to myself dryly.

  But this wasn’t enough. I wanted to see Clara again. I wanted to talk to her about this. To tell her that I wanted nothing more than to just help her succeed. I was strictly here as her business supporter.

  I ran a hand down my chin, my body twitching at the thought.

  What a lie.

  Yes, I wanted to support her and make sure that she received the kind of attention she deserved for her skill and talent.

  But that wasn’t all. Seeing her again, after months of dreaming about her, has made my entire being light up in a way that it never had before. I felt like an electric shock had run through me. I felt alive and fresh and ready. Seeing her again in person reminded me just how intoxicating a woman she really was.

  I ran a hand through my hair, sighing.

  It was a mess. I wanted to keep her safe, protected, because she deserved better than a man who only knew how to fuck and leave. And yet, when I was around her, I didn’t want to be anywhere else but by her side.

  And that latter feeling was winning, despite all my noble intentions.

  So I’m telling you this in no uncertain terms: stay away from me, Jonah Lowell. I don’t want Losel and
I don’t want you.

  My brain was telling me to take her words at face value. Let it go. Let her go.

  But just thinking of doing so, my body told me, fuck no. Hell no. Maybe I couldn’t make up for what happened a year ago but I can make sure that this time around, nothing went wrong. Last year, she had lost her family and support circle because of me. This year, she wouldn’t lose her pride and career because of me.

  I gave in and crossed the room for my phone. I quickly looked up the number I was looking for then dialed it.

  “Hello?” I said, as soon as the phone was answered. “May I speak with Ms. Carlisle? This is Jonah Lowell calling.”

  The secretary squealed in shock and then stammered at me as she transferred me right over.

  “Mr. Lowell,” Brenda Carlisle said in a smooth voice, as if not perturbed at all by an unexpected phone call from a billionaire. I had to grin. I was glad Clara was in her hands. The woman knew business. “How nice to hear from you.”

  “It’s a pleasure to be calling,” I said perfunctorily.

  “I’d been hoping we’d be able to speak again,” she said. “I wanted to thank you.”

  “Thank me?” I asked blankly.

  “Yes,” she said. “I assume you had a hand in the Su Lo Designs contract. It was a sizeable one. Nearly on par with the contract from Losel.”

  I grimaced. “Believe it or not,” I said, “I had nothing to do with the Su Lo contract. I merely introduced Miss Daniels to the buyer at the Devons Awards. He was impressed by her and offered the contract solely on the merits of her talent, I assure you.”

  “Huh,” Brenda said in surprise. I could tell she was reevaluating the meaning of the contract now, seeing it through new eyes. I wondered what the woman thought about the recent rumors of Clara and me.

  “In fact, I’d like to personally explain the situation to Miss Daniels,” I said, pressing on. “I don’t want her to misunderstand what happened with the press and the contract. Do you happen to know where she might be tonight?”

  There was a pause on the other end. I could tell Brenda was weighing her choices. So she did have some thoughts on the stories in the press. And clearly, those thoughts gave her some reservations about giving me any information on Clara.

  “Well, she’s actually going to a dinner tonight. She’s treating the carpenters that have been making her prototypes for her in honor of the contracts she’s signed,” Brenda said.

  I expected nothing less of someone like Clara Daniels. She would never forget or abandon those who had helped her rise.

  “Any chance you would happen to know where the dinner is being held?” I asked.

  There was another pause before I heard Brenda suck in her breath. “At Don Maggio’s in Little Italy,” she said.

  My pulse raced a little, knowing now that I’d be seeing Clara tonight.

  “Mr. Lowell,” Brenda said, interrupting my plans on how to approach the evening, “I hope you know that…well, Clara is very special. Not just to me, which she very dearly is, but just overall. She is a very special woman. And I’d hate to see her…used in anyway.”

  It took balls to stand up to one of the most powerful men in America. Even braver still is to stand up to a man who had just offered a very lucrative contract to their client.

  I admired Brenda Carlisle with every passing second.

  “That is completely understood, Ms. Carlisle,” I said in a reassuring voice. “There is no one I respect and admire more than Miss Daniels and the last thing I would want to do is cause her harm in anyway.”

  There was a final pause on the other end.

  “I’m holding you to that,” she said.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Clara

  “And to Mary, our little wizard with the drill!” I said, holding up my glass of wine. The table shouted in unison. Mary, one of my carpenters and the only woman, blushed with pleasure. “Without her, no chair would have legs!”

  Everyone laughed as they took a sip of their respective drinks.

  “And finally, Joel,” I said, turning a smile to the head foreman of this small carpentry company. They had been making my samples and prototypes since I had moved to New York. Through a common love for building, they had become my family.

  Joel, a man in his early forties with a shining bald head, smiled shyly into his beer.

  I grinned. “Where would any of us be without Joel, least of all me?” I said. “To the man who has led such an incredible team and has made this success possible!”

  “Here here!” the group cried as we all sipped.

  Don Maggio’s was a small Italian eatery in Little Italy. It had just enough tables for a few small parties but with our group of ten, we were nearly consuming half of their restaurant.

  But the servers were gracious as they pushed together tables and served us an endless flow of wine and pasta. It wasn’t a fancy five star restaurant but that’s not where I would’ve wanted to be to celebrate my recent contracts. I wanted to be here, comfortable and surrounded by friends.

  And seeing their happy faces, it made me feel a little less tainted by the contracts. I didn’t want to tell them that Jonah had probably twisted the arm of the Singaporean buyer and ruin our moment. But I had felt a little less celebratory than someone should when faced with such a lucrative and exclusive contract.

  Joel suddenly stood up and grabbed his beer, raising it in the air. “After all that, we can’t forget the real reason why we’re all here,” he said, smiling warmly down at me.

  I bit my lip, feeling tears of gratitude sting my eyes. I looked around the table and saw all of my team members nodding and smiling at me in familiarity.

  “With her creativity and determination, we all got to where we are today,” Joel said. His company would be very busy soon, working with Losel and Su Lo. He will probably be able to retire on those two contracts alone—one of the reasons why I had found it difficult to not sign the Losel contract even though, personally I had wanted to rip it up. “She used her talent and gumption alone to bring home these wins. To Clara! Our real captain!”

  “Woo!”

  “Yes!”

  “Here here!”

  “To Clara!”

  They all shouted and drank enthusiastically. The small tables were filled to the brim with plates of delicious and aromatic food.

  As we settled down into the tail end of our evening, the door above us rang as another patron entered. Don Maggio’s was below street level and the windows in the restaurant gave us a good view of the shoes that passed by us.

  Distractedly, I heard the sounds of footsteps as the new customer came down.

  “You know, Joel, I was thinking about that chair we discussed—” I started before Joel interrupted with a groan.

  He gave me a mock pleading look. “Do you never take a break?” he groaned at me. The table laughed in response as I gave his arm a playful slap. “Clara, you just won the lottery—twice! Do you know how many designers would kill to have just one contract from either Losel or Su Lo? And you have both! Just relax for one night, will you?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Fine, I guess I can do that,” I said. I waited a beat before starting, “But maybe keep in the back of your mind that the chair should have—”

  Everyone groaned and laughed in unison.

  Then I heard from my left, Mary gasp in surprise. She whispered to the person next to her, “Am I crazy or is that Jonah Lowell?”

  My heart stopped. My hand that was holding a glass of wine was frozen in midair.

  My table soon began to hum and buzz in excited curiosity.

  “That is Jonah Lowell. It has to be!”

  “What is he doing here?”

  “Is he alone? Do you think he’s eating alone? That can’t be.”

  “Wow, I can’t believe Jonah Lowell is in this restaurant. Should I take a photo?”

  I heard a chair scraping as it was pulled out. I turned my head an infinitesimal amount to see him taking a seat on the
other side of the restaurant.

  I closed my eyes, groaning internally. Talk about awkward. At this point in the evening, Don Maggio’s only patrons were my party…and now Jonah Lowell.

  A little flair of anger went through me. Didn’t the man listen to me? Didn’t he hear what I had said the last time we were together? I was sure I had said in no uncertain terms to stay away.

  And now here he was. And I had a hard time believing that a New York billionaire just happened to be in Little Italy and had a hankering to visit a restaurant where the most expensive bottle of wine topped out at $18.

  Clearly, the Don Maggio staff felt the same way. The servers were nearly tripping over themselves to bring him a menu and some breadsticks.

  “Do you think he’s eating alone?” Mary asked, turning towards me. She looked like she almost felt sorry for the man.

  “How should I know?” I responded a little more curtly than I intended to.

  “Well, don’t you kind of know him?” she insisted. “You went to that awards thing with him.”

  But before I could respond, Joe, one of our burlier carpenters leaned in and asked, “Should I invite him over?” His eyes twinkled with a mixture of mischief and a heavy dose or two of alcohol.

  Everyone responded, “Yes!” just as I gave a sharp whispered, “No!”

  But no one heard me.

  Joe stood up, swaying just a bit, and gathering up his courage, he walked over to Jonah’s table.

  Being in such a small restaurant, we heard his voice clearly as if we were standing right behind him. It didn’t help that being a little drunk, he was speaking louder than he needed to.

  “Mr. Lowell?” Joe started.

  Jonah looked up, a look of calm neutrality on his face. It wasn’t exactly a smile but definitely didn’t make him look like an intimidating billionaire.

  Encouraged, Joe said, “Mr. Lowell, we—” he gestured in the general direction of our table “noticed that you were dining alone tonight. If you were so inclined, we’d love to have you at our table. There’s more than enough room and company.”