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“Well, I don’t see how we can top that story. Good luck with the experiment, Clover.” Hoda smiles to the camera. “Coming up next…”
I click off the monitors.
Huh.
Is that how I came across? Is her version of what happened between us accurate?
Yes. You know it is.
Christ. I’ve been doing everything completely wrong.
Most of what she disclosed in the interview just now is stuff I learned from my investigation materials but hearing it from her lips is devastating. What she went through…
I think back to my early twenties when I first moved to New York for business school. My scholarships only covered tuition, so I was flat broke. With no choice but to support myself, I started my first company where I created themed meme websites and drove high-volume traffic to them using all sorts of techniques. When traffic reached a peak, I allowed companies to run ads on the sites, which I got paid a fortune for.
It was my first goldmine. In three years, I banked two million dollars. Sold the company for eight million dollars a week before graduation.
I’ve never looked back.
Year after year, I’ve meticulously reinvested my money into bigger and bigger media properties—each one more successful than the last. Today, I’m one of the wealthiest and most powerful men in the world—my life is filled with expensive cars, bespoke custom clothes, real estate and private jets.
Not to mention, I can fuck practically any woman I want.
Except…ever since that night with Clover, I’m just not interested.
At first it confounded me, but I’ve given it a lot of thought.
The first time I had sex was a few months after I launched my business. I’d just pocketed my first hundred grand and was feeling on top of the world. I told a few people in my business school program about my good fortune and the next day, Elise Giraldi informed me I was taking her out. She was pretty and assertive, so I agreed.
By the end of the night, I’d paid for dinner and lost my virginity. Our relationship lasted a few months and consisted largely of me buying her designer shit in exchange for sex. Eventually, she dumped me for someone richer and I decided relationships weren’t for me. Too distracting.
Looking back, it’s virtually impossible for me to ascertain if any woman I’ve been with in the past twenty five years has wanted me or was more interested in my bank account. Considering I’ve treated these relationships like business transactions anyway, I’m partially, if not wholly, at fault. The realization of which…sucks.
And then there’s Clover.
I can see now that my bias toward her in the beginning was also my fault. I projected characteristics of the women I’ve been involved with onto her, which is blatantly unfair. Even worse, I made assumptions about her life and marriage that were shaped by how much I hate Harrison Finklestein.
Clover was never the money-hungry monster I’d made her out to be in my head.
When she and I were stuck in the elevator and she knew me only as “JJ,” Clover was genuinely attracted to me. Not to Joar, the rich guy. She liked JJ, the guy who listened to her. Focused on her pleasure. Talked about pop culture, food, music and places we’ve travelled. That night, she got to know the real me—not just the man who fought and clawed his way through obstacles to better himself.
That’s what made our sex out of this world.
We had a genuine connection.
Something fundamental shifts inside me. I want a future with Clover Callahan. A future where she can soar and be everything she wants to be. Where we can fill in each other’s gaps. Make one another whole.
Maybe have a family. Or, explore the world together hand in hand.
Somehow I know that with Clover, anything and everything will be possible.
Even if I don’t deserve her.
Chapter fifteen
Clover
One Month Later
