Many times, following the dinner and speech the organizers would schedule a question-and-answer symposium. These were informal, with various people approaching Tony, asking him questions. Many of the attendees were young entrepreneurs looking for advice. According to Shelly, Tony’s participation was essential for public relations. According to Tony, his participation was hell. Claire’s duty included politely interrupting participants so that he could move on to the next and eventually leave.
During these Q & A sessions, multiple people approached Tony. Claire tried to appear attentive yet unobtrusive until it was time for her to interrupt. She didn’t pay attention to the individuals. They blended together in her mind. During this particular conference, a question came from one of the participants that caught them both off guard. A man younger than Tony, closer to Claire’s age, blond and blue eyed, dressed in an expensive suit, approached Tony.
“Hello, Mr. Rawlings, I am pleased to meet you. Your speech was remarkable and inspiring.” Tony shook his hand and politely thanked him, and then the blond man with big soft blue eyes continued, somewhat timidly, “I have an unusual request. May I speak with your wife for a few minutes?”
Claire hadn’t looked at the man until that moment. She was gazing into the crowd. His words made her turn, first to Tony, seeing his surprised expression, and then to the man. Her mask momentarily shattered. She recognized him immediately and suddenly wondered why she hadn’t recognized his voice. The mayhem in her head tied her tongue until Tony’s eyes brought her back to reality. Placing her hand gently on Tony’s arm, she hesitantly spoke, trying desperately for a sturdier voice.
“Oh my, Anthony, Simon.” Tony watched as she stuttered through introductions. “Anthony, may I introduce Simon Johnson. Simon and I were students together at Valparaiso a million years ago.” Her speech flowed too rapidly. “Simon, may I introduce my husband, Anthony Rawlings.”
The two men locked eyes and shook hands again. Tony was polite. Claire watched his eyes, as if a switch had been flipped from light to dark. Turning to Claire, he responded, “I believe that is Mrs. Rawlings’s decision.”
There were other people waiting to speak with Tony. Claire excused Simon and herself, allowing Tony to speak to the others. She and Simon walked away. As they walked, Simon absentmindedly put his hand in the small of her back; she immediately stepped away from his touch. They sat at an empty table.
Simon spoke softly, “Claire, I apologize if I have put you in a difficult position. It is just that I have wanted to speak to you for a long time.”
“Like eight years?” Even she was surprised by her unfriendly tone.
“This is the third event I’ve attended where you and Mr. Rawlings have been. I finally summoned the nerve to speak to you.”
Remembering a previous reunion, she said, “First, Simon, tell me you’re not a reporter or talking to me for a publication of any kind.”
His blue eyes looked startled and then softened. “No, Claire, I just want to talk to you. It must be difficult not knowing who you can trust.”
She breathed easier. “It is. I’ve made a few mistakes I don’t plan to repeat.”
“It is a mistake I made that I have wanted to talk to you about too.”
She looked at him. He hadn’t changed since their freshman year of college. But alas he had, he was older, more mature, and more confident. His blond hair still needed trimming and his gleaming eyes were still as bright. She couldn’t forget the passion she had witnessed in those eyes.
“I have seen your picture so many places recently. I felt that I needed to talk to you at least once and explain what happened during the summer of ’03.”