“That’s incredibly mature. Does she feel the same?”
“Well, I think so,” he shrugged. “We haven’t talked about it.” Looking closely over the rim of his mug with a look of disgust, he added, “Not everyone hires private detectives to follow their ex’s every move.”
That reminded Claire of Phil’s secret message from the night before. With everything else, she’d actually forgotten. Harry’s eyes widened with curiosity when she told him about the wine delivery and the note.
Taking her empty cup, Harry kissed her nose and said, “My, your list of admirers continues to grow. How did I end up being the one to stay the night?”
The idea of Tony or Phil staying made Claire uncomfortable. Mostly because she’d fantasized about one and hardly knew the other. But Harry’s tone made the blood rush again to her cheeks. She couldn’t believe she was blushing like a school girl. “Lucky, I guess, Mr. Baldwin.”
“I would have to agree.” His smile warmed her.
They also talked about her last night in San Diego. Despite Mr. Rawlings’ request (more of a mandate, Claire thought), to stop her discussions with Meredith, she had a scheduled meeting and planned to keep it. She planned to do what she’d told Tony -- go on with the interviews but halt production. Recounting the sickening feeling of fear for Harry, Amber, John, and Emily, she believed this might just be the ticket to keep them safe. However, she did worry about Meredith’s reaction. Undoubtedly, she would want her article or articles published, preferably sooner than later.
Harry asked, “So would you mind company for the rest of your stay? I’ll make myself scarce while you and Meredith are working.” Claire smiled and remained silent. She liked his requests. They were so much nicer than decrees. Harry continued, “I think with all of your visitors, I should stay... for your safety.”
“Didn’t you say Tony’s plane went back to Iowa?”
“Yes.” He hesitated and then asked, “Does that mean your answer’s no?”
“It means you need a better reason.” Her eyes twinkled.
“How about, I want to?”
“That works for me. But maybe you could...” She raised her eyebrows.
This time his cheeks reddened, “Yes, I was thinking a stop at the drug store was in order.” Claire didn’t respond verbally, she just nodded.
*****
The vibration of her iPhone, against the glass surface of the small table, pulled Claire from her memories. She read the screen: TONY CELL.
Turn your face to the sun and the shadows
fall behind you.
-Charlotte Whitton
Chapter 27
TONY CELL, Claire read the words from her iPhone. She wanted to be the one to call him, but her memories faded into dreams as she lay on the sunlit lounge chair. Mindlessly, she realized her plate was gone and her tea was full. The vibration and ringing confirmed her earlier concern; Tony or Shelly must’ve seen Meredith’s blog. Claire knew she needed to meet his confrontation head-on. If she didn’t, she risked him flying back to San Diego. And seeing as how her sleeping situation had recently changed, that wouldn’t be good. After the fifth ring she squared her shoulders and swiped the screen.
“Hello, Tony.”
“Claire.”
She couldn’t determine his mood by his one-word response. “To what do I owe this honor? First a visit -- now a call.” Claire tried in vain to sound nonchalant.
“It seems that your friend blogged about your impending disclosure.”
“Yes, I read that.”
“We discussed this yesterday. I was under the impression we’d reached an agreement.”
Claire reached up and touched the pearl dangling daintily from her neck. “As I recall our agreement states the articles won’t be printed, unless something happens to me or someone associated with me.” She attempted to maintain her businesslike tone. “I said I would go on with the interviews.”
Sarcastically he asked, “Tell me Claire, do you expect bodyguards for everyone? I’ll need a list of names.”
She shook her head, “I expect distance and respect.”
“And I expect my directives to be followed.” Claire recognized the change in Tony’s tone. It was harder with increased volume. “Her blog no longer exists.”
“That’s unreasonable.” She replied, “She didn’t know anything about your directive. I haven’t had the chance to speak with her.”
“That’s your undoing, not mine.”
“Actually, I beg to differ. I was upset by your visit last night, more accurately by your gift. Instead of calling, I fell asleep. By the time I woke, she wasn’t available and the blog was viral.” As Claire spoke, she powered-up her iPad and searched for Meredith’s blog. The web address she’d used earlier was met with the Error Response: Server not found. “Shit, Tony, what have you done?”