Truth (55 page)

Eventually, the next set of attendees made
their way to Claire and Tony. When dinner was announced, Claire was
relieved beyond words. She’d played her role well -- very well.
Even Tony complimented her regarding the Shedis-tics couple.
Nevertheless, her body ached from standing in high heels and the
stress. The act of sitting was a welcome relief.

At one point, before the speeches, Claire
excused herself to visit the ladies room. She expected a warning
glance or gesture. Surprisingly, she received neither. All the way
to the restroom she considered borrowing someone’s cellphone and
calling Harry. The problem was -- she didn’t know his number. She
called it multiple times a day. But, the number was programmed into
her phone. After racking her memory, she gave up and made her way
back to her new assigned seat.

On her way to Tony, she passed the round
table where she should have been sitting. Claire noticed three
empty seats. It was the only table within the large room with so
many vacancies. The Cunninghams, Derek Burke and another couple
were politely chatting. Claire moved quickly, to avoid another
conversation with Hilary Cunningham.

*****

Sophia believed she’d
suffocate if she spent another minute in the beautiful sitting room
of the Saint Regis’ Presidential Suite waiting for the mystery
buyer. Walking through French doors onto a balcony she observed the
lights of the Golden Gate Bridge. Although almost the end of May,
the evening air was brisk against her exposed skin. Mindlessly she
wrapped her arms around her chest and dissected the view, as only
an artist can do. The towers glowed more orange than
gold,
she thought as she
as she viewed the illumination from Route One.

She stood motionless at the rail and inhaled
the salty air. It wasn’t the same as Provincetown. There was
something about Provincetown Harbor which was unique from San
Francisco Bay. Nevertheless, closing her eyes and listening to the
distant rush of waves, the similarities made her homesick. She
glanced at her watch, almost nine thirty.

She and Mr. George had been in this suite
both alone and with Mr. Hensley for an hour and a half. Though
she’d communicated with Derek regularly, she knew he was upset. He
should be, she reasoned. This was ridiculous and rude.

Sophia even felt sorry for Mr. Hensley. The
poor man was doing his job. It truly wasn’t his fault his employer
was delayed. The first excuse was about traffic on 280. When eight
thirty came and went, Mr. Hensley kindly ordered them dinner. At
eight forty five they fired up Mr. Hensley’s lap top and virtually
viewed Sophia’s art. At nine fifteen Mr. Hensley received a text
message and excused himself from the suite.

Now Sophia and Mr. George continued to wait.
The night air helped relieve Sophia’s distress. Although she hadn’t
been looking forward to Derek’s big gala, she knew how much it
meant to him. He’d been anxiously anticipating spending this time
with his boss and Mr. Cunningham’s wife. He was also very excited
to meet the CEO of Shedis-tic’s parent company. He’d told Sophia
his name and Hilary Cunningham had gone on about a woman named
Nichols, but currently the CEO’s name escaped Sophia. More than
anything she wanted to be back in that crowded, pretentious
ballroom.

“
Mrs. Burke, I apologize
for this inconvenience.” Mr. George was now on the balcony
too.

“
I don’t blame you. It’s
just that my husband is so close, and I should be with
him.”

“
Mrs. Burke, if this
weren’t important, I wouldn’t have asked you to be
here.”

“
Do we even know the name
of this mysterious buyer?”

Mr. George rubbed his temple. “No, Mr.
Hensley is the one I’ve been dealing with.”

They both turned, upon hearing the door to
the suite open. Mr. Hensley entered. When it was clear he was
alone, they both exhaled and moved to join him within the suite.
His voice was more assured. “I cannot adequately express my sincere
apologies regarding this horrid meeting. Circumstances beyond
anyone’s control have delayed my employer. He would, however, like
to offer an olive branch.”

Sophia and Mr. George didn’t reply. It had
been a long evening.

Mr. Hensley continued, “If you two could
please have a seat. My employer would like to fund an exhibition of
your work, Mrs. Burke. He was thinking of an exhibition which would
run in multiple cities, in succession.”

Mr. George and Sophia sat. Her tired mind
spun with this new offer. First, this mysterious man paid 2.3
million dollars for three of her paintings and now, he wanted to
fund a moving exhibit. She momentarily forgot about Derek and the
gala. Her thoughts now centered upon Mr. Hensley and the papers
before him.

Eric went on, “Mr. George, commission of all
sales at all locations would be directed through you. Mrs. Burke,
if we could take a few minutes to discuss possible locations?”

Sophia nodded. She wasn’t sure her voice
could sound composed.

*****

When the final speaker concluded, the MC
from earlier came to the podium and announced, “Ladies and
gentleman, the orchestra will be in place soon. If everyone could
please make their way back out to the atrium, dancing will commence
in less than a half an hour.”

Claire looked down at her watch. It was only
nine-forty, but she was exhausted. If this were Harry she’d let him
know. But it wasn’t. She was back to weighing each word. “Are we
staying for dancing?”

Tony leaned closer, his eyebrows raised, “Do
you want to dance?”

“
No, I really don’t. I’m
tired and I’d like to go home. If I could have my phone I’ll call
for the SiJo car.”

Tony leaned back against his chair. His lack
of response caused Claire’s skin to crawl. The contrary emotions
his actions elicited made her feel as though she were with two
different men. One minute he was courteous and social, the next he
was his old domineering, controlling self. She tried to remain
obedient. With each passing minute her insolence increased.
Finally, she leaned toward him, smile glistening. From afar they
appeared to be having a friendly chat. Claire’s voice betrayed her
current emotions; she could only restrain them visually, audibly
was too much. Her voice cracked as she questioned, “Have I done
everything you asked?”

His external facade remained intact, “Yes,
but I want more.”

Her heart sank, “Please, I’m tired.”

“
Then perhaps you should
go to bed.”

She saw the twinkle in his
eye. Her mask momentarily shattered, she leaned closer, as panic
filled each syllable, “I am
no
t agreeing to sleep with
you.”

His perfect smile remained unwavering;
however, his eyes registered darker than she’d seen since the
penthouse, “Sleeping, my dear, is not what I had in mind.”

She closed her eyes and
waited for the distress to pass. When it merely subsided, she
turned to her ex-husband, “I will go upstairs with you. I will
complete this scenario. I will
not
have sex with you.”

“
Why do you fight
it?”

People mingled close. There were waitresses
and waiters clearing tables. Other couples milled near. Claire
inhaled and exhaled. The urge to cry was almost beyond her control.
“May we please go upstairs? This conversation is upsetting me. If
you want to maintain this charade, we’d better leave while I can
maintain a smile.”

Tony stood and chivalrously offered Claire
his hand. She exhaled and took it, allowing her fingers to be
swallowed by his girth. “Ms. Nichols, shall we bid our ado’s to the
appropriate people?”

“
Yes, Mr. Rawlings. I am
but so ready to close the curtain on this performance.”

Tony leaned toward her ear, “The press
release is viral. This, my love, was only the first act.”

An older couple from the National Center for
Learning Disabilities approached. With her stomach in knots, Claire
bravely continued her duties. When they finally reached the golden
elevator, Tony removed his phone from his jacket and sent a text.
Claire remained silent until the doors opened to the Penthouse
entry. “May I have my phone?”

Tony looked at his watch, 10:17 PM. “My
dear, the night is still young.”

*****

Sophia looked at the list of cities: San
Francisco, Seattle, Phoenix, Dallas, Chicago, Louisville, Atlanta,
Miami, Charlotte, New York, Boston and Bangor. The tour consisted
of two weeks in each city. Exhibition halls rented, advertised, and
paid. Lodging and food stipends, as well as travel expenses. Mr.
George would receive his customary fifteen percent. The mysterious
buyer would receive five percent. The rest of all sales would go to
Sophia. With two weeks in each city and the occasional time off,
the tour would last approximately thirty months.

“
I have some overseas
commitments,” Sophia said as Mr. Hensley discussed the
exhibitions.

“
I’m sure that can be
worked out.”

“
I really need to discuss
this with my husband.”

“
Of course,” Eric replied
as he glanced at his phone. “Let me give you this written
information.” Looking to Mr. George, “You have my number. Please
call when Mrs. Burke has made her decision.”

Mr. George responded, “Yes, we’ll talk.”

Eric Hensley turned to Sophia, “Mrs. Burke,
again, I apologize for the inconvenience. I hope my employer’s
olive branch will help to make amends for the missed gala. I’m sure
you would like to join your husband. I look forward to talking to
you again soon.”

Sophia stood with the realization she’d been
released. “Thank you, Mr. Hensley. Mr. George and I will be back to
you soon. Please tell your employer I do appreciate his offer.”

Eric walked Sophia to the door of the suite,
“I will. Do you need an escort back to the ballroom?”

“
No, thank you. I’ll be
fine.”

Eric Hensley nodded as
Sophia walked from the suite. As she waited for the elevator Sophia
sent a text to Derek.
I’M FINALLY
RELEASED. DO YOU STILL WANT ME?

Her phone vibrated within
seconds,
DINNER IS DONE. DANCING IS ABOUT
TO START. I’D LOOK FUNNY DANCING ALONE. I ALWAYS WANT
YOU!

Sophia smiled as the mirrored cubical
descended to the main level. When the doors opened, she hurried
toward the ballroom.

The single biggest problem
with communication
is the illusion that it has taken place.
--
George Bernard Shaw.

Chapter
36

Perhaps it was her look of desperation or
the tears that lingered on her perfectly painted lids. The reason
was not yet revealed. Nonetheless, once the golden elevator closed
and Tony and Claire were alone in the entry of the Saint Regis
Penthouse, he opened his Armani jacket and handed Claire her phone.
She contemplated taking it to an isolated area and calling Harry.
Instead, she bravely stood before Tony, waited for it to turn on,
ignored the icons indicating missed calls and messages, and
scrolled for the number of the SiJo driver.

Although Tony stood resolute before her,
Claire refused to turn away. Maybe it was a replay of a scene from
their past. Maybe it was a move, counter move. Nevertheless, she
waited while the phone rang. When the driver answered, she heard,
“Ms. Nichols, this is Marcus, are you ready to be picked up?”

Looking Tony in the eyes, she replied,
“Hello, Marcus, yes, this is Claire Nichols...”

She didn’t complete her sentence. Tony
unexpectantly took the iPhone from her hand and spoke, “Hello,
Marcus. Ms. Nichols will not need your assistance this evening.”
Claire could no longer hear Marcus’s response, only Tony’s: “This
is Anthony Rawlings.” “That is correct.” “Yes, you are relieved of
your assignment.” “Thank you, good night.” He turned off the phone
and placed it back in his pocket. His dark chocolate eyes glowed in
the dim light of the penthouse.

Claire wanted to fight, she wanted her
iPhone back, and she wanted to be back in Palo Alto with Harry and
Amber. However, after Tony disconnected the call, she dejectedly
walked to the sofa and collapsed. The tight reign she’d had on her
emotions all night severed. How could it not? The tension was too
much. With tears cascading down her cheeks, Claire closed her eyes
and waited. She’d been here before. Not this hotel or this
scenario, but one with enough similarity she knew the drill. Her
only option was conceding -- until her side regained strength.

Momentarily, Claire remembered Courtney,
Brent, Jane, Amber, Harry, John and Emily. She wasn’t a lone chess
piece -- isolated, without support. The realization fortified her.
Claire didn’t stand and declare victory. Nonetheless, she silently
accepted their support and sat taller. Drying her tears she stared
compellingly into the depths of her ex-husband’s dark abyss. If
those people could stand for her, she’d sit straighter for them.
Inhaling deeply and exhaling, Claire asked, “What do I need to do,
to leave?”

Tony sat next to his ex-wife. His gaze
mellowed. “Eric will take you home whenever you want. You may leave
at any time.”

She didn’t hesitate, “Then I want to leave
now.”

Tony nodded, and removed
his phone from his jacket. It was at that moment she
remembered
why
she was there, why she’d done as he asked, “Tony?” Her voice
quivered with concern, “Is SiJo secure? Did they get their problem
fixed?”