On more than one occasion he tested her endurance. His encouragement was always gentle, affectionate, and sensual. At times his physical touch caused such erotic convulsions that she felt she would never experience such a high again. And then she would. Claire contemplated Emily’s question the night before her wedding. If he was this unquenchable at forty-five, she shuddered to think what he would have been like at twenty-five.
He mentioned on multiple occasions that he was thrilled to have Claire as his wife, but with this title came responsibility. She had done well most of the time in the past. Now it’s different. She’s no longer an enigma, no longer a rumor, she was Mrs. Anthony Rawlings. Her actions, words, and appearance reflect directly upon him. He loved her and wanted her as happy as she was here in paradise, but the real world was coming. He wanted her prepared.
For ten days of complete togetherness, no possible threat of the outside world, chance of public failure, opportunity for breaking rules, and risk of negative consequences, Claire enjoyed the chocolate hue of Tony’s eyes. She could give herself and keep him satisfied. She found a place of contentment with her situation and happiness in her decisions.
Sometimes while lounging she would think about the out Tony offered in Central Park. She wondered would she have been happier? Where would she be? And the biggest unanswered question, would he really have let her go? Then she would open her eyes and see a lush tropical paradise, incredibly handsome generous husband, and recognize that her decisions led her to this consequence. She could live with that.
Thursday afternoon, December 30, Mr. and Mrs. Rawlings rejoined Eric at Tony’s plane in Nadi. This time they traveled back in time, arriving back in Iowa City Thursday night. Glistening under a blanket of white snow, the house looked regal as they approached. The decorations were gone, but the houselights shone upon the brick and river stone facade. It was magnificent and welcoming. Paradise had been just that, but now they were home.
There is a wisdom of the head, and a wisdom of the heart.
—Charles Dickens
Chapter 32
Samuel believed it a farce, the nightly meal with everyone present, his parents, wife, and son. Yes, they lived in the same house, but the formal meals seemed overkill. It reminded him of the TV show Dallas with Nathaniel reigning as omnipotent patriarch.
Amanda looked to her husband as the dinner concluded. Samuel leaned over and affectionately kissed his wife’s cheek. “I need to speak to my father for a few minutes. I’ll be upstairs in a little while.”
She smiled. “All right. I’ll be waiting.” But her eyes questioned her husband.
“I won’t be long.” Then whispering, “I’ll fill you in later, I promise.” Amanda’s eyes smiled as she looked into Samuel’s face. She knew the rules. You don’t question anything in front of Nathaniel. Dealing with her father-in-law was worth it, she adored her husband.
“Anton and I will be upstairs.”
Their son, home from boarding school, watched his parents. “I’ll be up in a minute, Mother. I need to do something.” Amanda smiled at her husband and son. Anton had grown so much during the past semester. Only fifteen, he stood half a foot taller than her. And his eyes could shine, but she saw his grandfather’s darkness too. More than anything she wanted to keep that darkness away.
“All right, maybe we can watch a movie when we all get to our suites? I have some new videos.” Amanda began the ascent up the grand stairs.
Samuel straightened his neck and walked down the corridor toward his father’s office. The double doors stood as a barrier to the inflexible man within. Inhaling deeply he formed a fist. Respectfully, he knocked on the grand double doors. He listened for the words from within. “Come in.” This wasn’t going to go well. His father knew his displeasure with the recent direction of Rawls Corp. Now the recent positive slant and the unexpected shareholder acceptance were too much. These ideas from Jared Clawson had to stop.
One idea reaped Rawls millions. The next cost them millions. Currently, the balance sheet was in their favor, but the risks and the possible legal repercussions weren’t worth the benefits. Stepping into the large office, Samuel silently prayed that he would be able to make his father see his point of view.
The man behind the desk sat bold and defiant. “I wondered how long it would take you to confront me.”
“I didn’t think we needed an audience.” Samuel closed the double doors, unaware that they were slightly ajar.
“Always worried about others’ opinion.” Nathaniel grinned. “Obviously a trait you received from your mother. I don’t give a damn what others think.”
“Perhaps you should.”
“Speak your mind.”
“You know my thoughts. You need to get rid of Jared Clawson. You need to stop these alternative means of financial gain.”
Nathaniel laughed deep and low. “I need?”
“Father, I’m sorry, maybe need isn’t the best word. You should.”
“You are sorry? You are a weak piece of shit!” Nathaniel stood and walked around his grand desk, facing his son. “Didn’t you learn anything? Don’t apologize! Apologies are for cowards, they make you appear weak.”