Tony smirked at her desperation. His tone dripped with ruthlessness, “But maybe we should watch some more, find out where you need improvement.”
“I will do anything you say, anything you want me to do differently, just tell me. Just please don’t make me watch.” Claire was now on the floor kneeling in front of Tony, crying. She hated that she’d been reduced to begging, but this ruined her whole compartmentalization. How could she keep these awful memories hidden if he made her watch them?
His dark eyes pierced her soul and his voice was ice cold. “You will do whatever I say, even if it is to watch. But . . .” He hesitated to add emphasis. “I do not want to spend my last night for over a week here with you in this condition.” He stood, causing her to fall back onto the floor. “I will be in your suite in a few minutes.” Claire stood. He continued, “Go up and get ready. Wash your face! You look like hell, and as far as attire . . . I am thinking some new lingerie.”
She started to leave the theater as Tony gripped her arm. She stopped, met his gaze, and listened to his steely tone, “Claire, what do you say?”
She looked at him, fire in her moist eyes. They stood silent for a moment while Claire’s confused mind spun. She couldn’t fathom what he wanted. When it hit her she wanted to scream. It took all the resolve she had not to lash out. Instead, she managed, “Thank you, Tony.”
Loosening his grip he responded, “You may demonstrate your gratitude when I get upstairs.”
Claire continued to stand, afraid to move. Her mind was a mess, not knowing what to do or say, all she could do was pray she would never see another of those videos. As if sensing her bewilderment, Tony remained in control of her motion, “You may go to your suite now.”
It was after sunrise when Claire felt Tony get out of her bed. She listened as he picked up his clothes and knew he was dressing. Next she heard him open a drawer and rifle through it. She opened her eyes and in the dim light saw him writing a note. When he turned to look at her, she closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. Doing her best to keep her breathing steady, she remembered that he wouldn’t be back for over a week. At this moment in time, she detested everything about Anthony Rawlings.
Lust and greed are more gullible than innocence.
—Mason Cooley
Chapter 12
Nathaniel didn’t mind the commute between New York and New Jersey, especially when he drove the winding drive toward his home. Each time the beautiful combination of river stone, limestone, and brick came into view, he momentarily remembered the two-room apartment he’d shared with his wife. For a young soldier recently home from fighting the Japs, it was ample. Being a soldier was the only attribute Sharron’s family had seen in him. That was the only reason they allowed their daughter to marry Nathaniel Rawls.
Today as he stepped into the marble entry, he wished her high-and-mighty father could see his daughter now. Oh yes, Nathaniel Rawls did make something out of himself. And now with Clawson’s ideas, there is so much more to be made. If his father-in-law were still alive he would gladly shove this up his—
“Good evening, Nathaniel.” Sharron’s greeting came from the archway to the sitting room. She had his bourbon waiting. Dinner would be precisely at seven. Everyone knew that. Perhaps it was the military training, but punctuality was never questioned. “How was your day?”
“It is better now.” He took the glass she handed to him and kissed his wife’s cheek. The sparkle of his wife’s eyes in the illumination of the fireplace added to the tranquility of the scene. A man’s home is his castle and Nathaniel loved the castle his queen was able to enjoy.
Look deep into nature, and then you will
understand everything better.
—Albert Einstein
Chapter 13
Claire waited about ten minutes after hearing the door to her suite shut. During that time, she lay still, barely breathing, and pretended to sleep. She didn’t want to face him, talk to him, or even see him. Though appearing peacefully asleep, her mind was a whirlwind of questions: How long until I am sure he won’t come back? Can he see me? Is he watching? Oh god! What did he write?
Finally, her curiosity overtook her. She got out of bed and started to walk to the table to read his note. Suddenly, the thought hit her like a physical strike. She remembered the cameras and the staff. She reached for her robe on the floor near her bed and put it on. Sitting on the table where he left it was his note.
I believe we have a blockbuster on our hands. It is
hard to say, until we thoroughly review the footage.
I plan to return a week from Wednesday. Eric is
available if you want to visit the Quad Cities. I trust
last night’s film reminded you of my rules. Don’t
disappoint me.