She didn’t know what to expect from a private jet. It seemed smaller on the outside than she anticipated. Once they climbed the steps, she was pleasantly surprised by the spacious interior. To her left was the door to the cockpit and to her right was an open space with a table and four chairs. Beyond was a sofa along one wall facing three reclining chairs along the other. Everything was secured and contained seat belts like you would expect on a plane. The chairs and some of the walls were luxuriously covered with white leather and accented with woodlike trim. There was additional space behind the far wall. Claire guessed that it contained a bathroom, maybe more.
Tony introduced Claire to his associates and motioned for her to take a seat on the sofa near the wall. Everyone was polite and friendly. She went to the sofa as she was told. Tony, Mr. Simmons, Ms. Michaels, and Mr. Fields sat around the oval table. Eric joined them on the plane after loading their luggage into a compartment below. Surprisingly he sat in the copilot’s seat. His talents suddenly impressed her. He obviously is the world’s most versatile chauffeur.
Claire watched and listened as Tony and the others discussed the impending deal. She honestly didn’t care about the deal other than its impact on Tony. She liked to watch him work, his expertise, his intelligence, and his control. He respected the knowledge and wisdom of his associates, asked them questions, and listened intently to their responses and opinions. With that said, Claire knew that when the time came for decisions, the only opinion that mattered would be his.
After they were in the air and the discussion at the table became mundane, Claire thought about napping and remembered Catherine’s advice. To stay awake she looked in her purse, another treasure hunt. First she opened her wallet. Staring back at her was her picture from her Georgia driver’s license. She read the identification card and saw her Atlanta address. Compartmentalize. Her picture didn’t look like her. The picture was taken two years earlier and her face had changed, slimmed, tanned, and just changed. Her height, five four, was the same; her weight, one hundred and twenty-five, was closer to actual. That hadn’t been the case four months ago. The listed weight had been accurate when she was sixteen and like with everyone else it had inched up through the years. However, now it seemed accurate if not erroneously high. Next Claire spotted the American Express platinum card with Claire Nichols embossed on the front.
When Tony first gave Claire the card she didn’t want to use it. She thanked him for the confidence and faith and tried to explain that there was nothing she needed. She had all the clothes she could possibly wear. She actually had many she’d never worn. Food came to her three times a day and she had a roof over her head. She had no interest in jewelry, having her grandmother’s necklace was all she wanted. She loved to read, but so far the library contained more than she could hope to read.
Tony wouldn’t accept any of her excuses. He told her to ask him when she wanted to go shopping. She didn’t ask. After a week he apparently gave up. One evening, over dinner, he proclaimed, “Eric is taking you into Davenport tomorrow to shop.” Claire remembered suddenly feeling ill. She didn’t speak at first and only stared, “Claire, did you hear me?” He knew she did, he wanted verbal confirmation.
“Yes, Tony, I heard you. I thought we discussed this and decided I had no pressing need for anything.”
“I am pretty sure we discussed it and I have said you are going tomorrow.”
“But don’t you need Eric tomorrow?”
His eyes darkened as his tone slowed, “Are you arguing? You were a confident woman when I met you. You have learned your lessons well. You need to get out in the world. And for the record, this conversation is now over. Unless you feel it would be beneficial to argue?”
Claire wanted to complain and explain that she worried about the Charles Jacksons of the world. But she’d made that mistake before. She swallowed. “What time does Eric need me to be ready?”
The trip to Davenport was unnerving. Eric picked Claire up in a black BMW. She sat in the backseat and felt awkward without Tony. Driving away from the house she told herself he was right. She had been a confident woman, and besides, one day she would be leaving here. She also knew the truth. This was a test to determine if she could be trusted out by herself. And she learned from earlier glitches the best way to pass a test is to avoid it. Tony made it clear: avoiding this was not an option.
Eric took her to the River Walk Shoppes, higher-end boutiques in the Quad Cities. She entered each shop and took her time looking around. At first, her senses were on high alert, afraid of everyone that approached her. She soon realized that no one paid that much attention to her. The clerks were attentive and she was shown everything and anything she wanted. People didn’t browse these shops if they couldn’t buy.
Claire saw no reporters. No one stared or asked questions. By the time she made it down the street to a small coffee shop she felt better about her outing, and even drank coffee sitting at an outside table. She sipped the aromatic rich brew and watched people as they rushed down the sidewalks. She missed being around people. However, the idea of speaking to anyone frightened her. What if she said something wrong?