Chapter Fifteen
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“We’ve been invited to a Labor Day barbeque, tomorrow.”
Sitting on the sun porch, reading her new novel, and enjoying the Sunday afternoon, Tony’s casual announcement surprised Claire. The warm gentle breeze and faint smell of cut grass gave way to a rush of anxiety and disbelief. “We? Who would invite me?”
“Courtney, Brent Simmons’ wife,” Tony said while lounging on the loveseat with his laptop on his outstretched legs. His light brown eyes gazed at Claire as she questioned him.
“Why? What does she know about me?”
“Well, Brent met you when I brought you to New York, and Courtney knows I’ve been seen with the same woman on multiple occasions. Since they’re probably my closest friends, she wants to meet you and invited both of us to tomorrow’s barbeque.”
Despite her sudden rush of anxiety at meeting his closest friends, Claire knew her fate wasn’t in her hands. “Are we going?”
“Yes. It starts at noon, and we’ll leave here by 11:30 AM.”
“I guess it sounds like fun.” Her tone was tentative. She wondered what these friends would think of her. Did they know him well enough to know the truth about her? If they didn’t, how should she act? Her stomach began to knot with unanswered concerns. “Please let me know if there’re different instructions for an intimate barbeque versus a public event.”
Tony set his laptop on the table and contemplated Claire’s honest question. His words sounded instructive, but his tone wasn’t authoritative, just matter-of-fact as they gazed at one another. The late summer breeze caused strands of her long golden brown hair to float around her beautiful face. Her green eyes saw only him as her expression reflected her sincere interest in his advice. “You’ve done well at public events, this will be different. I believe there’ll be four or five couples present. You met Brent. His wife is Courtney. They have two children who are grown and live away. Brent’s law partner Thomas Miller will be there. His wife is Beverly. She owns a renowned design firm in Bettendorf. Brent is a few years my senior. Thomas and Beverly are closer to my age, they have no children. Another guest will be Elijah Summer and his long-time companion MaryAnn. Elijah is another client of Brent and Tom’s. He’s made a fortune in the entertainment business and enjoys telling stories about some of his more famous clients. Personally, I believe he enjoys hearing himself talk”—Tony paused and smiled—“much more than I like to hear him talk, and the last couple will be Timothy Bronson and his wife Sue. Tim’s a junior vice president at my local office. He’s young, but has proven himself. I asked Brent to invite him to make him feel involved.”
That was all helpful information, Claire desperately tried to remember names: Brent and Courtney—Thomas and Beverly—Elijah and Sue—no, Elijah and Mary Ann—Timothy and Sue, but that really didn’t answer her question. Claire thought to herself—there were wives and long-time companions, what did that make her? “Tony, who am I?”
“You’re a rumor.” Perhaps it was the calm setting of the sun porch or their recent understanding, whatever the reason, Tony spoke thoughtfully. He explained he’d spent his entire life working, accomplishing goals, and fulfilling self-made agendas. He’d been in relationships—most very short-lived. He believed strongly in appearances and had not been willing to risk the perception people have of him on a woman. Claire thought about his words and his honesty, and right or wrong, she believed him. He continued, “You told me that you wouldn’t betray my confidence.”
“I did, and I still mean that.”
“I believe you know what could happen if you did.” Feeling the prickling sensation which accompanies chills along your arms and legs, Claire believed she did know, but she didn’t confirm that verbally. She allowed Tony to continue talking. “And therefore I’ve allowed you to become part of my life.”
She thought he honestly meant that as a compliment, and she should be flattered; however, it felt more ominous. She wondered and worried about her release. This quiet peaceful setting wasn’t the time or place to voice her concerns. Instead, she decided to put it away and deal with it later.
He said, “Since you have been seen with me at various events, and I’m rarely seen with the same woman over time—you’re a rumor. There have been countless speculations about you. Everyone, like the man at the benefit, wants to know who you are and what you are to me.”
Claire admitted, she too, would like the answer to those questions. “I saw our picture in a People Magazine from your library.”
He said their picture had appeared in many publications. His publicist had kept information limited to the basics: her name and that she lived in Atlanta. The people at this barbeque were part of his inner circle and wouldn’t betray his trust. Other than Elijah Summer, their jobs and livelihood depended on Tony. Elijah was a more public person, but he respected Tony and wouldn’t compromise their mutual friendship.
She tried one more time, “And I am…”
“Persistent.” His eyes were soft and light with a contented expression. He spoke as he moved from the loveseat to the floor of the sun porch. “Well, I would say more than an acquaintance.” Kneeling in front of her, he gently spread her knees and moved his hand under the hem of her skirt. Their eyes met as the sides of his lips turned upward into a devilish grin. “Shall we say…companion?”
If that were a question, she didn’t answer. Her attentions were turned to his actions, as his touch directed her from the chair to the straw rug. The windows and doors were open, and they were exposed to the world. It was his house—he didn’t care. Although the porch’s rug was rough, his movements were calm like his tone. The staff didn’t return until they were done.
Late Sunday night, Shelby on the Weather Channel, said a cold front would pass over Iowa. Claire awoke and opened the drapes to find condensation on the windows with crystal clear skies beyond. Stepping onto her balcony, she looked at the trees and smelled the fresh autumn air. The cool concrete beneath her bare feet and the goose bumps on her arms and legs confirmed the decrease in temperature. Wrapping her arms and her thick cashmere robe around her body, she entertained fleeting memories of autumns past. She always loved summers but autumns were special too—with cookouts and football games. Today the change of season brought sadness, another reminder of time slipping away.
While in the shower, she contemplated the impending barbeque. It was a new situation—a new test—and as such, made her anxious. She hadn’t received a direct answer to her question, so Claire decided to approach the people at the barbeque as she was told to approach Emily. She would try to turn conversation away from herself and divulge as little information as possible. Evasive answers would be best. There was a time she loved parties, getting together with people, laughing, talking, and sharing. Now, she was petrified of saying or doing something wrong.
Stepping from the shower, Claire discovered her clothes on her bed. Sometimes that upset her, other times, like today, it was reassuring—one less decision to mess up. She did her hair, make-up, and dressed. At 10:30 AM she was ready—an hour before they were to leave.
The balcony held two chairs. She sat plaintively and watched the trees through sunglassed eyes. The bright sunshine caused a rapid increase in temperature as the trees rustled in the gentle breeze. Vibrant hues of yellow and orange were beginning to emerge from the green canvas. Her mind wandered through the woods to her lake. She hadn’t been back since Tony’s return. That was to say—physically. Mentally she could be sitting on the shore, watching the minnows or listening to the water rhythmically lap the shore at any time. As a matter of fact she was sitting on the shore, in her mind, when Tony materialized behind her. “Oh, good morning, Tony, I didn’t hear you enter.”
He eased himself into the other chair. “Good morning, where were you?”
“I’ve been here. I have nowhere else to go.”
“You seemed far away.”
“I was thinking about the trees—being partially honest—“Their leaves are already changing.”
It was as if he never really looked at them—so he did. “I guess they are—that happens.” He didn’t concern himself with matters he couldn’t influence. “Are you ready for our outing?” She said she was and they proceeded down the grand stairs. “I have a car out front, we can go.”
When Tony opened the door she saw a small Lexus SC 10 convertible, but no Eric. Tony opened the passenger door and she got in. He went around to the driver’s seat. She couldn’t help but smile at him. He wore jeans that accentuated his trim waist, a button-down shirt, white, which showed his tan, his powerful chest, and shoulders. His hair was perfect. As she beheld his profile she saw the “red-hot sexy” People Magazine mentioned.
Glancing at her as he started the car, he noticed her smile seemed different. “What?” he asked.
“I guess I forgot you drive, without Eric I mean.”
Tony smiled. “I love to drive; however, it’s more advantageous to be driven and accomplish work during my commutes.”
The convertible felt liberating with the wind and air invigorating their senses. Thankfully, Claire decided to wear her hair in a side braid. She laid her head on the headrest and watched the road twist and turn, the vibrant sapphire blue of the sky and the autumn colors making picture-perfect views as Tony drove the narrow country roads. Claire inhaled the aromatic autumn air as memories of pumpkins and leaves filled her subconscious.
The car slowed to a stop along a quiet side road. Tony gently touched Claire’s braid. “Good choice of style”—he smiled—“I’m needed in Chicago for a couple of days next week”—He continued to play with the end of her braid. Claire thought about her lake—“I’ve made you an appointment at a very exclusive spa in my apartment building”—her attention refocused on him and his words—“Your hair needs trimming and you can have a manicure, pedicure, full body massage, and sauna—whatever you desire.”
She started to respond, “Thanks, but no thanks.”
He stopped her and went on, “I just trust that it won’t need to be canceled.”
Confused, Claire asked, “Why would it need to be canceled?” As the words escaped her lips she wondered why she cared, she actually didn’t want to go to a spa—she wanted time alone to go to the lake.
Moving his hand from her braid, he gently removed her sunglasses and lifted her chin, holding her eyes to his. She watched as the dark deepened. “If today doesn’t go as I believe it should, a massage may not be possible. We wouldn’t want appearances to be questioned.” There was no ambiguity to his statement. Claire received his meaning loud and clear. The autumn air suddenly chilled.
Maintaining forced eye contact, Claire responded, “Tony, I fully comprehend the importance of appearances. I won’t let you down.”
He handed her the sunglasses, moved his hands back to the steering wheel, and put the car in gear. “As long as we’re clear—public failure is not an option.”
Claire reassured him, they were clear.
The Simmons’ home was grand, probably about a quarter of the size of Tony’s, but large by normal standards, with a good deal of land. The Lexus moved slowly through the gates and up their drive as Tony turned to view Claire. She felt his gaze and maintained her mask. By all outward appearance she looked beautiful and content, the ingredients to the perfect companion. She saw his grip on the wheel relax and knew his brown eyes were muted.
They parked on a brick circle directly in front of the home beside many equally nice automobiles. The front door opened as Tony opened Claire’s door. He gently put his arm around her and led her toward the entry. Claire remembered Brent, but Courtney wasn’t what she had imagined. She looked younger than a woman with two grown children. She was slender, with short brown hair, soft blue eyes, and a refreshingly engaging smile. Instantly, Claire liked her. Brent may owe his livelihood to Tony, but Courtney obviously felt very comfortable around both of them.
Courtney immediately hugged Claire. “You must be Claire. I’m so excited to finally meet you. My dear, you’re more beautiful than your pictures!” Claire felt overwhelmed. She introduced herself and called Courtney Mrs. Simmons. When she looked to Tony, he was already in conversation with Brent.
“Oh, goodness, call me Courtney. We’ll let those two get their business out of the way so we can have some fun. I’ll take you around and introduce you to our other guests.” Tony didn’t seem to object, so Claire allowed herself to be ushered off.
The house was stunning, yet homey—not like Tony’s. Children had played on these floors, a family laughed and loved within these walls; each room contained priceless memories. Courtney walked Claire through her home toward the kitchen. Designed very modern, brushed stainless steel appliances, granite countertops, and tall cabinets were accentuated with intricate tile. Golden lighting fixtures hung at appropriate intervals, not for light but ambiance. The kitchen wasn’t only functional, but was also intended as the centerpiece of the home. The stove was located on a large island that contained a wraparound bar with six tall stools. Out from the kitchen Claire could see a large family room leading to a sun porch and their backyard.
Claire couldn’t see beyond the porch, but she did notice the suddenly silent room of guests. She couldn’t help but feel their eyes on her—assessing and evaluating. Keeping her mask in place she moved forward. She hadn’t expected to face these people without Tony.
Courtney didn’t leave Claire’s side as she introduced her to the others. First, she met Tom and Bev. Claire did her best to be polite and social. “It’s so nice to meet you. I believe Tony told me that you,” looking at Tom, “and Brent are partners?” They continued with some polite conversation. Claire asked Bev about her design business. Years of bartending taught Claire the art of small talk.
Next, were Sue and Tim. “Tim, I’ve heard wonderful things about you.” Claire watched as Sue’s smile widened and Tim’s expression softened. He seemed stressed. She understood; working for Tony could do that to a person. She hoped some positive reinforcement would help.
Then it was on to Eli and MaryAnn. It didn’t take Claire long to understand what Tony meant by Elijah enjoying his own stories. Lastly, Courtney introduced Claire to the couple with Eli and MaryAnn, Chance and Bonnie. Claire wasn’t prepared for this couple. She wondered if Tony knew they were there. Courtney explained that Chance was an associate of Eli’s in town for a visit, so of course they were welcome to join them. Chance seemed nice enough, but Bonnie made no secret of her evaluation of Claire.
Courtney offered Claire a drink. Requesting water, Courtney obliged but suggested Claire considered something a little more fun. “We have some fantastic sangria.”
Just then Tony and Brent joined them in the kitchen. Tony looked so relaxed wearing jeans and holding a beer, it almost made Claire laugh. Appearances were everything.
Brent did his own barbequing, and the men joined him out on the patio. The women gathered around the island as Courtney busied with side dishes. They all offered to help but she wouldn’t hear of it, confessing she hadn’t prepared a thing. Her cook did it all yesterday and now she was only putting them into the appropriate dishes. The conversation quickly went to cooking. Some enjoyed it, others did not. Did Claire enjoy cooking? She told them she did. Did Tony like her cooking? She laughed and said she hadn’t prepared many meals for him. She left out the part about her not cooking in over five months because she’d been held hostage.
It seemed like Bonnie tried to ask more Claire specific questions, but Courtney did a fantastic job of moving the conversation. Claire had apparently made a quick friend of Sue by complimenting her husband. Sue ran flank for Courtney, helping Claire avoid the invasive inquiries.
Sue looked about Claire’s age, mid to late twenties, very pretty, blonde and tan. It was nice to talk to a female who was her contemporary. While the men cooked, Claire learned that Sue had a degree in art appreciation and worked part-time at the art museum in Davenport. Tim didn’t feel Sue needed to work. Financially, she didn’t; however, Tim worked long hours and she needed something to do with her time. After she mentioned the long hours, Sue immediately added, “But he’s glad to do it.” It took a minute, but Claire realized the additional information was because she was the boss’ companion.
The dinner tasted fabulous. Claire hadn’t eaten normal food in five months, everything was always healthy. She wanted to devour the entire platter of hamburgers; however, she chose the barbecued chicken—or Tony did for her. She managed some of Courtney’s homemade side dishes and savored every bite.
The conversation remained benign and chatty. Bonnie didn’t only question Claire any chance she could, she also approached Tony. When they were introduced, Chance had the good sense to address Tony as Mr. Rawlings. Bonnie wasn’t as astute. Of course, Tony told Chance that at gatherings of friends he could call him Anthony.
Tony had been right about his inner circle. Even Eli was annoyed at Bonnie’s abrasive curiosity. Claire didn’t need to lie or deceive. Bonnie continually found herself cut off before Claire had a chance to respond.
After they ate, the men retired to a lower level. Claire would later learn that it contained a beautiful handcrafted bar, pool table, and large television. The women took a bottle of wine and sat on the sun porch. The sunshine with the cool air felt wonderful. To be sitting with five other women chatting felt like a performance—unreal. Their conversation ran from books, to movies, to sexy movie stars. MaryAnn shared some inside scoop on some of Eli’s clients. Sexy stars led to sex. Claire politely excused herself and asked Courtney about the ladies’ room.
It was on her way back to the porch when she overheard MaryAnn and Bonnie in a room off the main hall. “Bonnie, what’s your problem? You’re embarrassing yourself with your persistence about Claire and Tony.”
“I’m an inquisitive person. I want to find out what the rest of the world wants to know. Why is he, Anthony Rawlings, interested in her? She’s a nobody.”
“Frankly, Bonnie, it’s none of your damn business. It’s none of any of our business. Tony’s a private man, and as far as a nobody, I guess that depends on who you ask. Tony must think she’s somebody. If he wants Claire in his life—good for him.”
“Hell no! Good for her!” Bonnie exclaimed. “The guy is drop-dead gorgeous and has money to burn. He hardly takes his eyes off her. Do you think she paid for those clothes she’s wearing? The blouse alone is over five-hundred dollars. She’s getting herself a sugar daddy. Look how young and skinny she is, why she—”
“Stop it. Stop it now, or we’ll tell Courtney we need to leave. I’ll tell Eli what you’ve done and you and Chance will go back to California. Perhaps you can get started on Chance’s job search.” MaryAnn’s control of the situation made Claire smile. Bonnie told MaryAnn she would stop. Claire let them proceed to the porch and waited a few minutes before joining the group. Once there, she smiled at MaryAnn but didn’t glance toward Bonnie.
The men and women came together outside for some conversation, dessert, and drinks. Claire passed on the dessert and sat with Tony’s arm around her shoulders. Brent had a fire pit built into his patio. The cool autumn evening, crackling fire, warmth, and distinct aroma created a pleasurable atmosphere. At about 6:30 PM Tony whispered to Claire that they should leave. Everyone seemed genuinely saddened, Claire included.
It had been a nice day, better than anticipated.
As they said goodbyes, Sue handed Claire a piece of paper. Surprised, Claire opened it. It was a telephone number. “Call me, we can do lunch.” Claire smiled and said she would try.
They went to the car and drove away. Perhaps they drove a mile—maybe two when Tony stopped the car on the side of the road and put out his hand. He didn’t speak but she knew what he wanted. She placed Sue’s telephone number in his palm. “Tony—”
With the same hand that held the little white piece of paper he roughly covered her mouth. “Not now. We’ll discuss it when we get home.” He let go of her face and resumed driving.
No words were uttered during their drive home. Claire’s internal monologue however, raged: this is ridiculous. Sue was being friendly. I had no idea she would do such a thing. What is the big deal? Why does he have to react so fast and so violent like a freak’n tornado?
Tony pulled the car to the front door. He didn’t open Claire’s door. Instead, he told her to go to her suite, he’d be up later. He had things to do—like cancel a spa appointment. His tone was curt and his eyes dark. She wanted to run. Instead, she got out of the car and walked boldly into the house, through the large doors, up the grand staircase, and down the southeast corridor to her suite. Once she closed her door, she felt her heart race and her internal monologue continue: this was such a nice day. I met Tony’s friends, and they were nice. I wanted to tell him about what I heard. I wanted to tell him what a great time I had.
Claire knew what Anthony was doing. Starting in the car—he was contemplating—overthinking—and overanalyzing the entire situation. She knew if he would just let her, she could explain. Oh God! She wanted to lie down, scream, and cry. But, she also knew he could watch her every move. She refused to give him the satisfaction, refused to let him know how worried she was about his decision. Truthfully, she was worried—actually, terrified. Every bone in her body feared the possible return of his other persona.
There are two things a person should never be angry at, what they can help, and what they cannot.
—Plato