Amber spoke quickly. As if saying the words in rapid succession would lessen their sting, “Liz just called. While it’s true Mr. Rawlings won’t be at your table, she just learned he will be there. He’s one of the speakers.”
Claire’s mind once again went into reverse. She remembered many events, sitting at the head table, and listening to her husband speak. “So he’ll be at the head table,” she said matter-of-factly.
Amber and Harry both released their breaths.
Claire looked surprisingly at each face, trying to read their expressions. “Did you think I’d be upset? Did you think I’d say forget it?”
Amber moved forward and clutched Claire’s hands. “I’d understand if you did. I mean it’s one thing to plan for this, it’s another to have it thrown on you at the last minute.”
Claire shrugged, “When it comes to Tony, I’ve learned the best way to be prepared, is to expect everything and nothing. Do I wish he weren’t there? Sure. But I’ve sat at those head tables. You honestly can’t see many faces in the crowd. At least I never did.” She reached again for Harry’s arm and looked up to his eyes, filled with concern. “Are you still fine with this?”
He shrugged, “Why not? I’m the one with you on my arm.”
Claire’s face launched into its biggest grin, “Yes, you are.”
Her subconscious brewed below the surface. Could she really do this? Could she be next to Harry with Tony in the same room? She said you don’t see faces, but in the pit of her stomach she knew, at any moment during the evening, she would turn and see, even feel his dark penetrating stare.
Seeing the relieved expressions of her friends, Claire’s resolve strengthened. Apparently her mask was still very much intact.
If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh?
If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge?
-- William Shakespeare
Chapter 32
Autumn 1985...
“It’s good to see you smile.” His deep throaty voice lifted her spirits, as much as his fully masculine body filled her. Marie grinned at the face inches away, finding herself lost in the sparkling intensity of his dark mahogany irises.
Watching the beautiful woman beneath him, Nathaniel enjoyed her soft blissful expression as their bodies moved in rhythm. He could lose himself in the gray eyes that muted beneath her long lashes. Her soft moans of pleasure were like music to his ears, as he escorted her through their own private world.
Her eyes parted as he felt her body relax under his weight. He wanted the warmth and closeness to go on forever. Her lips brushed his cheek as she spoke, “It feels good to smile. For the longest time I just couldn’t.”
Nathaniel didn’t want Marie to go there. She’d spent too much time in darkness and despair. When she finally awoke from her fall, the realization that she’d missed Sharron’s passing was exacerbated by the knowledge their baby did not survive.
He provided around the clock medical treatment. Her body healed, but her mind refused to mend. She slept most of the time. When she ate, it was only enough to pacify his pleas. On the rare occasion he could engage her in conversation, the hallow look in her eyes and continuous tears, broke his heart. It was almost too much. They’d just buried the love of his life, and suddenly he saw the same vacancy in the eyes of his one source of vitality.
Nathaniel spent his days at work. It was the only place he had control. He could read reports, purchase companies, sell them off like a fire sale, and rake in millions. His CFO, Jared Clawson, kept deals in motion, even when Nathaniel’s mind was sidetracked by thoughts of the women, Sharron and Marie, who he wanted to please but continually failed.
There were deals, stocks and securities... Samuel didn’t understand. He didn’t understand how each victory, each dollar, justified Nathaniel’s existence. Sometimes Nathaniel wondered why he was put on this earth, if everything he touched and loved – died, and then he’d see profits as Clawson and Mathews reported another conquest. It filled him with the same resolve he felt as he provided Sharron with the life her father thought she’d never obtain. The satisfaction was superficial compared to the love he’d seen in her eyes or Marie’s, but it was enough to sustain him, to propel him to the next deal.
From where Nathaniel sat, Samuel had a different perspective. He didn’t know the desolate emptiness that comes with poverty and dejection. He’d always enjoyed his mother’s coddling and his wife’s health; how could he know what it felt like to have someone disapprove of you, as Sharron’s father had him? At least Nathaniel ended the ridiculous notion of sending Marie away.