Truth, стр. 85
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.”
The bile bubbling from her stomach caused her knees to tremble, yet her voice remained resilient. “I agreed to attend this gala, weeks ago. I didn’t learn of your attendance until this evening.”
His grip increased as he held her emerald eyes toward his pits of darkness, “Then your informant is as incompetent as the firewall at SiJo.”
Though her stance remained still, her eyes ignited, “What did you do?”
“Nothing. As long as your friends don’t have an overwhelming sense of conscious requiring them to inform the public of their near breach, no harm will come.”
Claire remained motionless. Her well trained protocol wouldn’t allow her to pull away from his hold. Nevertheless, her eyes screamed at his manipulation. “Why?”
As his hand released her face, Claire flexed her neck and shoulders. Taking a step back, Claire assessed the man before her. He was still very agitated. However, she needed to know, “Why did you do this?”
“I told you Claire. I know your weakness. It’s your concern for others. God only knows why, but for some reason Amber McCoy has been kind to you. Her company will not be harmed,” He paused and walked to the window. The sky of orange and red was now darkening. The land beyond the bridge was speckled with lights as the bridge glowed with artificial illumination. Turning on his heels Tony’s gaze devoured her, as his commanding voice filled the tall room, “IF you follow my rules.”
Claire’s heart sunk. Her knees wobbled, and her stomach twisted. This was her nightmare, her greatest fear. She’d convinced herself she was able to maintain the upper hand. Her inner voice tried to warn her, but Claire hadn’t listened. Now it was too late. Suddenly his expression changed.
“Are you not feeling well? You’re pale.” Was there concern in the voice that only seconds ago was harsh and authoritative?
“I need to sit down.”
Tony wrapped his arm around Claire’s waist and directed her toward a soft leather love seat. Her knees buckled and a sudden wave of perspiration covered her skin as she settled against the cool plush hide. Claire lowered her head to her knees and tried to inhale. She saw Tony’s shiny loafers move away and return. Then his voice reassuringly offered assistance, “Here’s some water, drink.”
Claire shook her head against the green material of her Donna Karen gown. The feeling of queasiness wouldn’t fade. She feared if she drank the water she’d be ill.
“Dinner will be starting downstairs in about an hour. Have you eaten recently?”
Feeling the chill that comes after the rush of heat, Claire looked up into the softening eyes. “No, I haven’t.” Her voice quivered, revealing the trembling within her body. She wasn’t sure if the cause of her trembling was the recent onset of nausea or Tony. “I don’t want to go down there with you.” She sat straighter, trying desperately for strength. “I’m here for SiJo, for Amber and Simon.”
Tony’s gaze lingered. He could see her still to pale complexion. Nonetheless, his voice hardened as his posture straightened. “Then you will do as I say.”
Her resolve was spent. She once again lowered her head to her lap and asked, “What do you want me to do?”
Entrepreneurs are simply those who understand that there is little difference between obstacle and opportunity and are able to turn both to their advantage.
—Niccolo Machiavelli
Chapter 34
Sophia listened as Hilary Cunningham described Anthony Rawlings’ marriage to Claire Nichols. Hilary’s excitement built as she spoke about both of them being present at this function. Sophia didn’t need to feign interest; this was better than a TV show. She couldn’t believe this kind of intrigue existed in real life. She anxiously awaited Claire Nichols’ presence at their table. According to Mrs. Cunningham, Ms. Nichols was a surprisingly attractive and friendly woman.
Occupied with sipping her champagne, tuning out the crowd, and listening to Hilary’s words, Sophia almost missed the vibrating sensation coming from her handbag. Excusing herself from the conversation, Sophia looked at her phone and read the screen: Mr. George 3 missed calls. Walking tentatively from the ballroom into the quiet hall, she returned his call. He answered on the first ring.
“Mrs. Burke, I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“I’m rather busy this evening, Mr. George. What can I do for you?”
“The mystery buyer, he wants to meet with both of us... tonight.”
Sophia collapsed against the wall, allowing her shoulders the relief of a sturdy anchor. “Tonight? I’m with my husband at a very important event. I can’t leave.”
Mr. George continued undeterred, “He’s at the Saint Regis Hotel in San Francisco and wants both of us there in fifteen minutes. Maybe I can pacify him until you arrive.”
Sophia looked toward a group of waiters with wheeled carts and stacks of covered plates. “Mr. George, I’m at the Saint Regis. Where are we supposed to meet?”
“Consigner’s desk, before 8 PM.”
She looked at her delicate watch, 7:46 PM, and asked, “Will you be here in time?”
“Yes, I’m in a cab as we speak. I’ve been trying to reach you for over a half an hour.”
“I’ll be there.” Sophia disconnected her call and gathered her nerve. She needed to explain to Derek; she’d only be gone from the festivities for a very short time. Seriously, what luck the buyer wanted to meet at this hotel?
*****
Though the large hand which held hers radiated warmth, the unyielding grip was not intended to be misconstrued as comfort. It was undeniably a warning. Tony made it clear; Claire would again follow his rules. Magnanimous as ever, he kindly reminded her of the most important ones: do as I say, public failure is not an option, and be the perfect companion.
Tonight’s duties required obeying all three. In order to assure SiJo Gaming’s complete recovery from its current troubles, Claire must attend the National Center for Learning Disabilities Gala as Anthony Rawlings’ companion. The silk wrap covering her shoulders failed to keep the trembling at bay. Claire stared at their perfect reflections upon the mirrored door of the private golden Penthouse elevator. With each floor of their descent, her mind reeled with this new reality.
Perhaps, someday she’d learn to expect the unexpected, and his actions wouldn’t shock her. Yet, as was their history, whenever Anthony Rawlings was in Claire’s life, so was the potential for abrupt change. Remembering the past hour, she bowed to the reality of her new paradigm.