Truth (52 page)

Once through the front door, a woman with an
ear piece and an electronic tablet approached. Claire noticed
multiple people fitting that description, all directing attendants
through a set of double doors.

“
Hello, welcome to The
Saint Regis. May I have your name and the name of the company
you’re representing?”

“
Claire Nichols, SiJo
Gaming.”

“
Yes, Ms. Nichols, I see
your name. There is also a Mr. Harrison Baldwin registered. Is he
with you this evening?”

“
No, he was unfortunately
detained. I will be representing SiJo Gaming alone.”

“
I see. If you could
please follow the others through the double doors ahead and to your
left, you will receive further instructions. Thank you for joining
us this evening.”

Claire answered affirmatively and followed
the others through the double doors. Once inside, she found herself
in a large room. Men in black tuxedos and women in beautiful gowns
stood in groupings, while waiters and waitresses mingled about with
trays. Some of the trays contained flutes of champagne while others
held hors d’oeuvres. Claire’s stomach twisted as whiffs of caviar,
smoked salmon, and pâtés lofted through the air. She’d meant to eat
something before she left the condo. However, the glitches at SiJo
changed her plans.

Before Claire could give food much thought,
a young man explained, “In about twenty minutes you’ll need to step
to those doors. At that time you’ll be announced as you enter the
gala. Do you have any questions?”

Claire said she did not. Once again she was
standing alone in a sea of people. Gathering her inner socialness,
Claire scanned the room. As she looked from couple to couple, a
nice older man and woman approached, “Hello, Ms. Nichols?”

“
Yes.”

“
My name is Jonas
Cunningham. This is my wife, Hilary.”

Claire extended her hand. Mr. Cunningham
continued, “We’re from Shedis-tics. I believe we’ll be sharing a
table.”

Claire filled with immediate relief. It was
so nice to talk to someone whom she would be seeing throughout the
night. “Yes, I believe we are. It is nice to meet you.”

The three spoke for a few minutes when
another woman with an earpiece politely interrupted. “Excuse me,
Ms. Nichols?”

Claire responded, “Yes, I’m Ms.
Nichols.”

“
If you would please
follow me, your presence is requested in another room.”

Claire nodded to the Cunninghams and
followed the woman leading her away from the doors she’d been told
to exit. When they were on the fringe of the reception room, Claire
asked, “Excuse me, everyone else is going another direction. What
did you mean, my presence is requested?”

The young woman answered, “If you’ll follow
me, I’m sure you’ll understand.”

The voice Claire heard earlier, the one
warning her about the coincidence of SiJo’s recent problems, began
speaking with an alarming tone.

*****

After almost thirty
minutes in the
waiting
room
, Sophia wasn’t sure what else to call
it, she and Derek were escorted to the main ballroom. The large
double doors opened to a great beautiful vista. The outside was
suddenly in, highlighted by a flowing fountain under a glass atrium
ceiling. It reminded Sophia of fountains in Italy, complete with
glittering sculptures, a continual shower, and an enormous
pool.

Everywhere she looked Sophia saw finely
dressed people in tuxedos and gowns moving gracefully from place to
place. The hum of polite chatter and soft music filtered through
the air as their names were announced: Mr. and Mrs. Derek Burke of
Shedis-tics Incorporated. Holding tight to her husband’s elbow,
they made their way to the floor. Immediately, a gentleman
approached and introduced himself and his wife.

“
Derek, this is my wife
Hilary.”

Derek shook her hand and introduced Sophia.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Hilary. This is my wife Sophia. Sophia,
this is my boss Roger Cunningham and his wife Hilary.”

As the men began to discuss the economy and
expectations for the future, Hilary Cunningham pulled Sophia under
her wing. Her motherly voice offered more advice than Sophia
wanted, “My dear, you look beautiful. I’m so glad to meet you.
Roger speaks very highly of Derek. They’re all so happy he agreed
to come to Shedis-tics. How do you like Santa Clara? How do you
like San Francisco? How about the beach, do you like the beach?
Have you two had a chance to drive into the mountains? They are
simply beautiful this time of year...”

Although she was trying with all her might,
Sophia couldn’t keep up with Hilary’s questions. It was as if the
woman never paused to breathe. How was Sophia expected to
answer?

Finally Mrs. Cunningham moved them away from
their husbands. “Let me introduce you to some of the other wives.
Listening to the men talk shop all night can get a little
tiresome.”

Sophia looked to Derek who appeared
completely engrossed in Mr. Cunningham’s words. Unwittingly, Sophia
allowed herself to be directed around the room. Hilary knew many of
the people. After introductions and polite chats they would move
away and Hilary would whisper sordid tidbits of information about
their private lives. Sophia wondered how she possibly knew so much
information.

Making their way back toward their husbands,
Hilary whispered, “I’m surprised Mr. Rawlings isn’t here yet. I
don’t think I’ve ever made it to a function before him. He has a
real thing for punctuality, or so Roger says.”

“
Do you know him?” Sophia
asked, suddenly interested in some of Mrs. Cunningham’s
gossip.

“
Not really. We’ve been
introduced a few times. He doesn’t usually make it to our area. I
think Shedis-tics is pretty small on his food chain. That’s why
Roger is so excited he’ll be here tonight.”

“
Is he married?” Sophia
asked.

Hilary’s expression was both surprised and
amused. “Oh come on, surely you know his story.”

Embarrassed by her lack of knowledge Sophia
apologized, “I’m sorry, I really don’t follow things like that.
Why, should I?”

At that moment a waitress passed by with a
tray filled with glasses of champagne. Hilary reached for two
glasses, handed one to Sophia and said, “Well, let me fill you
in!”

*****

With increased concern and anxiety, Claire
followed the woman away from the crowds to an elevator. When the
doors opened and the woman entered, Claire decided she’d followed
long enough.

“
I’m sorry, but I don’t
want to get into this elevator without knowing where I’m
going.”

It was at that moment she heard determined
footsteps approaching from the direction they’d just traveled.
Claire turned toward the source and saw a face from her past. The
man approached at a steady pace dressed in a very nice suit.

Claire’s mind wheeled with memories. This
man had never shown her anything but kindness, except perhaps at
their last meeting. Had he purposely left the key cabinet to the
cars at Tony’s estate open? Was he part of Tony’s plan? Did his
actions lead to her eventual incarceration? Although these
questions and many more formed in her head, her lips pressed
together in a straight line. This wasn’t the time or place to speak
her distress. The only outward signs were the sparks blazing from
her eyes toward Tony’s driver.

“
Ms. Claire, Mr. Rawlings
is upstairs and would like to see you.”

“
Eric.” She managed
through clenched jaws.

“
Yes, now, if you’ll
please enter the elevator I’ll gladly escort you to him.” He looked
at the woman from the gala, “Thank you, I’ll take Ms. Nichols from
here.”

The woman didn’t bother to look back toward
Claire for confirmation. She nodded and walked away toward the
gala.

While hushed, Claire’s voice sounded strong
and resilient, “Eric, please tell Mr. Rawlings I no longer make
command performances. If he wants to see me, he can come to
me.”

Seizing her elbow, Eric directed her toward
the still open elevator. His voice was low, yet determined, “Ms.
Claire, there are many people about. Perhaps this time you could
make an exception?”

Surprised by his assertiveness and stunned
by his touch, her feet moved obediently into the elevator. When the
doors closed, she pulled her elbow free from his grasp and felt the
floor move upward.

This wasn’t an elevator used by guests, but
an industrial lift, presumably used by the staff of the St. Regis.
The stainless steel walls marred with fingerprints and floor
covered by a large black mat resembled the service elevator at
Claire’s condominium.

As the doors opened, Eric gallantly turned
and asked, “Ms. Nichols, may I assist you?”

She wondered if that
meant:
Do you want me to forcibly remove
you from this elevator
?

Her stoic expression remained while her
words were clipped, “Thank you, I believe I’m capable of walking on
my own.” She wasn’t happy with this man. Yet, she knew Eric was
only doing what everyone did around Anthony Rawlings, following
orders. Exiting the elevator, they stepped into a brightly lit,
empty hallway. The sound of her heels upon the concrete floor
echoed through the passage. “I’ll follow you, as you seem to know
where we’re going.”

Eric nodded, “Yes, ma’am, this way
please.”

What choice did she have? The elevator was
now closed. The sensor near the doors indicated a key was required
to regain entry. The hallway had few options for escape. The few
doors they passed held name plates indicating the contents beyond:
heating/AC, cleaning supplies, and personal supplies. The
destination at the end of the passage was not labeled. Eric opened
the door and held it for Claire to pass. She did, each step
becoming more difficult to endure. More than anything, she wanted
to call Harry, but he was busy with problems at SiJo. She squared
her shoulders and entered an elegant posh foyer. Claire knew who
she’d find at the end of this journey. Before her were two options,
an elevator and a set of double doors. This elevator was adorned
with golden mirrored doors.

Eric placed a card below an electronic
reader near the double doors, and she heard tumblers shift. Anthony
Rawlings’ driver and right hand man opened one of the grand doors.
Claire obediently entered the threshold of the luxurious penthouse
atop the San Francisco St. Regis Hotel. Although every fiber within
her body told her to run for the gold elevator, Claire’s Jimmy Choo
four and a half inch heels moved forward. She heard the click of
each step as she followed Eric through the foyer, complete with a
winding staircase, toward a beautiful sitting area. Beyond the
elaborately furnished room, with multiple sofas, tables and entries
to other rooms were windows covering the wall from the polished
floor to the ceiling, at least fifteen feet above.

Claire saw the back
of
his
head, hair
gelled perfectly in place and his customary Armani tuxedo slacks
and perfectly pressed white silk shirt. She couldn’t remember how
many he owned. She knew it was many. Tony’s large form appeared
dwarfed against the height of the glass pane. Beyond him the sky
filled with color, creating a magnificent vista as an amazing
sunset glistened in the western sky, with the Golden Gate Bridge in
the foreground.

The anger growing within her chest stilled
as she heard his voice. Uncharacteristic anger emanated. He was
yelling at some poor soul on the phone he held tightly in his right
hand. With his left hand he twisted a cord. It was the tie holding
back the drapes at the edge of the amazing view.

“
She’s not to be there. He
is to remain.” “No, that isn’t acceptable.” “This has been the plan
forever. If you aren’t capable, I will find someone who is.” He
turned, hearing Eric and Claire enter. His eyes smoldered. Despite
the dark blackness of his irises, fire flashed from a deep
untouchable abyss. Claire searched his expression for a sign of
assurance, finding none; she shivered knowing the depths of this
man’s temper.

The words of protest she’d been silently
practicing since entering the elevator, faded into Tony’s cloud of
rage. With all her soul, Claire prayed she wasn’t the one meant to
disappear or the reason for his fury.

“
Twenty minutes. I’ll be
waiting.” He disconnected his phone and slid it into the pocket of
his Armani slacks. “Thank you, Eric. Ms. Claire will remain with
me. Please take care of our other issue. I’m late for the benefit
and that’s very upsetting to me.”

“
Yes, Mr. Rawlings. Twenty
minutes?”

“
Not a second
more.”

Eric nodded as he backed toward the door,
“Yes, Sir.” Before Claire could blink Eric disappeared down the
hall, and she heard the grand double doors close.

Claire gripped her purse and nervously ran
her fingers over the silk of the wrap, now lying over her arm. Eric
was a source of uneasiness, yet his departure was more unnerving.
She stood anxiously before her ex-husband. Straightening her neck,
she tried for a formidable yet respectful voice. “Tony, please
explain to...”

He didn’t allow her to finish her sentence.
Instantly, his chest touched hers, and her chin rose with the
direction of his forceful grasp. His warm breath hit her face as
his harsh words flowed, “I have no intention of being at a social
gathering or anywhere else with you and another man. You’re a fool
to consider such a thing.”