Truth (65 page)

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Authors: Aleatha Romig

BOOK: Truth
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Were there similar notes in other rooms?
What if she would have requested the first room on the left in the
southeast corridor? Claire didn’t allow her thoughts to linger. Was
she predictable or was he overly prepared?

Claire sat at the table.
The flight, her reunion with Catherine, seeing Tony’s estate, and
being back in this suite, left her drained but surprisingly
content. Using the information on Tony’s note, she connected her
iPad and iPhone to the internet. She then sent a text message to
her various chess pieces:
I ARRIVED
SAFELY. I HAVE MY PHONE AND A LOCK ON THE INSIDE OF MY DOOR. ALL IS
WELL. I WILL TEXT AGAIN LATER.

 

 

 

 

 

Courage isn't having the
strength to go on -
it is going on when you don't have strength.
― 
Napoleon
Bonaparte

 

Chapter
43

 

Somewhere, Claire heard knocking, was it
real, or was it in her dream? She tried to analyze, but she
couldn’t; she couldn’t distance herself from the warmth and
pleasure cocooning her body. She floated on the softest sheets,
upon a bed of perfect firmness. Somewhere between sleep and awake,
the knocking stopped, replaced by her name.

 


Claire -- Claire, you
need to wake. We’re supposed to be to Tim and Sue’s in an hour.”
Tony spoke from the moment he entered the suite. He didn’t want to
give her the wrong impression, although
that
impression was paramount in his
mind. She looked so peaceful, sleeping on
this
bed, in
this
suite. With all his might, Tony
wanted to reconnect the electronic lock and keep Claire there
forever.

He couldn’t succumb to his
thoughts. If Claire were ever to be his, she needed to
want
to be here. If he
were to stop her stupid articles from appearing, he needed to tread
lightly. The fact she was here was, in itself, a miracle.
Approaching the bed, her serene expression transfixed him. Hoping
not to startle her, he spoke louder, “Claire? Claire?” Partially
out of necessity; but, more out of desire, Tony touched her exposed
skin, “Claire?”

She began to stir. His fingers caressed the
light blue satin bra straps, visible above the blankets on her
exposed shoulders. The allure of moving the covers and discovering
the remainder of her attire was almost irresistible. Tony wondered
if she could possibly be wearing matching light blue panties.

 

Her blissful nap slipped away. Slowly she
opened her eyes to his voice. Suddenly, they opened wide. Claire
abruptly sat, pulling the blankets around her body. “Tony!” Claire
pulled the covers higher, “what are you doing in here? You
promised.”

He chuckled at her modesty, “I promised a
lock. The door wasn’t locked. I knocked, multiple times. You must
have been very tired.”

Her panic diminished at his casual tone, “I
think I was. I have that jittery just awakened feeling.” She laid
her head back onto the pillow, and her long chestnut hair fell in
waves around her face. The late afternoon sunlight shimmered off of
her emerald eyes. “What time is it?”


Six thirty and we need to
be to Tim and Sue’s in an hour.” Tony remained motionless, grinning
at Claire.


Well, if you’re going to
stand there, go find me a robe so I can get ready.”

He didn’t speak but walked slowly into the
dressing room. Claire’s eyebrows rose and lips pursed into a
straight line, when he emerged holding a black silk transparent
negligee cover. The smirk on his face revealed his attempt at
humor. Her only response was a slow shake of her head. With a
feigned pout he reentered the dressing room and returned again with
a long pink cashmere robe.


That’s better. Now if you
don’t mind?”

Tony gallantly turned away as Claire covered
herself with the robe. “Don’t you think this is a bit ridiculous?”
He asked. “We were married.”


No, I don’t,” she
answered. After securing the robe Claire said, “You may turn around
now.” When he did, she couldn’t help notice the twinkle in his soft
suede eyes.


I thought we could talk
about tonight.”

She looked up to his still amused
expression. “Not now. I need to get ready. We can talk in the car.
If you leave me alone, I’ll be ready in thirty minutes.”

Mockingly, he bowed, blew her a kiss, and
left the room. Instinctively, she listened to the door close. Upon
hearing the normal sounds associated with the mechanisms of a
latching door knob, Claire walked into the attached bathroom. It
was exactly the same: white tile, chrome fixtures, and glass
shower. The only change was the color of the towels, now copper,
matching the walls in the bedroom.

Thirty minutes hour later, Claire descended
the grand staircase to see Tony casually leaning against one of the
grand doors, with his hands in the pockets of his navy slacks. She
noticed his white “v” neck shirt and unbuttoned sports coat. Her
choice of slacks and blouse would blend perfectly.

Claire tried to ignore his non-wavering gaze
as she made her way to the foyer. Once her heeled sandals touched
the marble floor he straightened and said, “You look amazing -- as
usual. Is that an outfit you brought or one from the closet?”


One I brought. The closet
seems silly. I’m leaving in three days.”


You refused to take a
credit card to shop. So I hired someone to shop for you. You may
decide to wear some of those clothes to our public
functions.”

Claire shook her head as
she stopped before him. “Tony, I’m not falling into that same trap.
I don’t want the media accusing me of
reconciling
with you for your
money.”


Tonight there won’t be
media, just friends.”

Claire exhaled, and her shoulders
slumped.


What’s the matter?” He
asked.


Are you sure they want me
there? I would rather face the media than
your friends
considering what they
think I did.” That was another of Claire’s prepared speeches. She’d
thought about saying
after what you made
it look like I did
or
after what you did
, but she believed
she’d found the best wording.

Tony grasped her hand. “I promise. I’ve
spoken to everyone, most in person. Mary Ann and Eli I spoke to on
the phone.”


And they ...”


And they
understand
. I was
distraught, but we are reconciling.”

Claire closed her eyes. Why was she forced
to face these people as the villain? Wasn’t she the victim, the
heroine? Exhaling, she allowed Tony to lead her through the grand
doors, down the steps, to the bricks below. Waiting for them on the
circular drive was a Lexus LFA. The silver car reminded Claire of
the Batmobile. Tony opened the passenger door and she eased herself
into the low seat. The red and black interior included a very
impressive dashboard. As Tony settled himself into the driver’s
seat, his broad smile and shimmering eyes held her gaze. Without a
doubt, Tony loved his cars. She got the distinct impression this
vehicle could go very fast.


This is a very nice car.
Would you mind not going too fast?”


It can do zero to sixty
in three point six seconds.”


I believe you. Do you
remember my reaction to the bacon the other day?”

Tony frowned, “Yes, are you still not
well?”


I‘m not back to
myself.”

He scowled, “Maybe you should see a
doctor.”

Claire looked through the windshield as Tony
put the Batmobile in drive and eased down the driveway. “I have an
appointment in a few weeks.” That was true. She did. It was her
four week obstetrical visit. According to Dr. Sizemore, she would
be seen every four weeks until week twenty eight. Then the
appointments would be every two weeks, eventually every week. Of
course, she didn’t say any of that to Tony. Instead she prayed her
stomach would not revolt against the low riding Batmobile.

As they passed the
impressive double gates, thoughts of that fateful day and her drive
away from this place, infiltrated her mind. She stared at the blue
skies, as the road before them wound and twisted though fields and
forests. Claire closed her eyes and laid her head against the
headrest. They would be there soon.
Please
let me keep Catherine’s snack down
. She
silently prayed.

Tony turned down the radio. As the volume
decreased so did his smile. It was barely visible when he said, “We
need to discuss tonight and your behavior.”

Claire opened her eyes and peered to her
left. She wasn’t alone she told herself. (Maybe her greatest ally
came in a pawn or bishop, but nonetheless, she had allies!). “Tony,
I wouldn’t be here, of my own free will, if I didn’t completely
comprehend my behavior. Don’t patronize me. I’ve done this dance
before.”

Tony’s eyes darkened, “Are you saying when
you were with my friends in the past, it was a performance?”


No.” Claire sat taller;
the car glided onward and Tony continued to make marked looks to
his right. “I’m saying, there were times I wasn’t happy with you,
but no one knew.”


You aren’t happy with
me?”

Grasping the large hand holding the steering
wheel, she explained, “Tony, we are doing what you want, it’s a
performance.” She considered their child. “I can’t say I don’t want
it to be real. But for now, it isn’t. Let’s not add unnecessary
layers to this charade.”

He considered her words, and finally asked,
“So there is a part of you, I will settle for a small part, which
wants what we are about to do, to be real?”

She exhaled, “Yes, Tony, a
small part of me.”
and of you --
she thought
.
“wants
us
to be real.”

The scenes passed, and a comfortable banter
ensued, until they neared Tim and Sue’s home. Tony slowed the car
and his tone, “Perhaps we should review rules?”

Claire closed her eyes and replied, “Maybe I
could save us some time and summarize? Do as you say. No public
failure and do not divulge private information.”

Tony exhaled, “Are you summarizing or
mocking?”


For the sake of argument,
I’ll call it summarizing. As I said earlier, I’ve done this before.
Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but I’m perfectly capable of doing as you
wish.”


No, Claire, I have not
forgotten your abilities. I just need confirmation that we’re on
the same page as we enter the Bronson’s home.”

Her patience waning, “Tell me the number,
and I’ll turn right to it.”

The car was now stopped along the side of
the country road. Tony grasped Claire’s chin and turned her glaring
green eyes toward him. “I believe I’m tiring of the sexy, bold, and
cheeky.”

Her strong tone didn’t vacillate, “Then stop
this charade.”

He maintained his hold, peering intently
into the fire of her emerald eyes. Finally he asked with obvious
restraint, “May I please have reticent and genteel while in the
presence of others?”

Her lashes fluttered, the fire ebbed, and
her southern belle emerged, “Why Mr. Rawlings, your wish is my
command.”

The darkness before her grew. She found
herself lost in the abyss of his stare. Time stilled as her chin
remained captive between his thumb and finger. Their distance
decreased and his lips neared hers. “Kiss me.” It was his wish, his
command. Powerless, her eyes closed, lips parted and their mouths
united. His hand released her chin and reached for her shoulders.
The restraint of the seatbelts held their bodies in place, yet
their hands and lips searched for one another.

When they parted, Tony replied breathlessly,
“If we weren’t expected at the Bronson’s any minute, I’d like to
put more effort into exploring the wish and command
possibilities.”

Claire leaned her head against the seat and
laughed. Tension within the sleek sports car had been mounting. The
kiss released the pressure valve on their boiler. The sudden relief
allowed Claire a moment of honesty, “I’m nervous to see all of them
again.”

Once again he reached for her chin. This
time he gently pulled her eyes toward his. What was once black now
faded into soft brown velvet. “There may be questions, personal
questions. This isn’t the press. They are people who know me, know
us. They’re going to want to know what happened.”

Claire nodded, accepting Tony’s advice. He
continued to create a believable scenario -- a story which they’d
each know and could refer, with consistency. The blending of their
stories was essential to making the world believe their reunion.
Dutifully she listened to every word, knowing her performance
affected the lives of many.

This dinner was another of his forced moves.
Claire needed to evaluate the chess board and strategize her next
appropriate move. She couldn’t afford to lose any more pieces. As
she considered their baby -- too much was at stake.

 

The cars parked in the
driveway indicated they were the last to arrive. Claire tried not
to imagine the conversation occurring within. Of course, she’d
probably learn the truth from Courtney later. For fear of being
discovered, Claire left her
work
phone in California. Talking intimately with her
dearest friend would wait until Claire was back in Palo
Alto.

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