“And what did you conclude from that?”
She contemplated her answer, as her fingers mindlessly played with the small buttons down the center of his silk shirt. Finally she spoke, “Well, it’s hard to answer. You see at first I thought you’d sent it. So, I thought you were adding insult to injury, you know, rubbing salt in my wounds.”
His embrace tightened, “And you thought I’d do that?”
“What else could I think? You set me up and left me.” Her emotion ladened voice trailed into silence. Closing her eyes, she remembered him at the jail in Iowa and saw visions of her prison cell. Her body trembled as she fought to contain the sobs within her chest.
“There are few people in this world whom I’ve cared about.” Tony’s voice had a faraway quality. “Few people whose opinion of me I value.” He lifted her chin and looked into her moist glistening emerald eyes. “I know you have reason to doubt me. Hell, reasons. But, Claire, you are one of those people.” She closed her eyes, and he continued speaking, “I need you to understand. I made promises, and I keep my word.”
She didn’t know where the words came from. It wasn’t something she’d been consciously thinking, yet they came anyway, “You made me a promise, on December eighteenth...”
He interrupted, each word coming slower than the one before, “Two thousand and ten, in our estate, to love you forever. I keep my word.”
His lips found hers and passion glued them together. It wasn’t fevered, like a wildfire roaring through the California Mountains. It was deep and painful; the kind of bond that yanks at your heart, until your only desire is to remove the pumping organ with your bare hands.
Abruptly, Claire stood. The room spun from her quick movement. Tony reached up and steadied her. She heard the honest concern in his voice.
“Are you all right? What happened?”
Claire picked up her shoes and smoothed her dress. “I’m fine. I want to go now.”
He didn’t argue, though his gaze never left hers. He reached inside his pocket and removed his phone. She waited while he spoke to Eric.
“Eric will have the car ready in the private garage in a few minutes.” Her expression must have asked her unspoken question about the location. In the past, cars were always outside. Tony replied, “If we enter the car in the garage, we can avoid paparazzi.”
“Oh, good idea. I need to use the restroom, and I’ll be ready to leave.” Claire turned to walk away and then turned back. “We? Tony I don’t need you to ride with me.” She paused, “I’d prefer you didn’t.”
“Then I will escort you to the car. If that is acceptable?”
Claire nodded and walked away; her dress swept the cool floor, while her shoes dangled from her fingertips.
Though considerably less tense than the earlier decent, the ride down the golden elevator was awkwardly quiet. Their reflections in the gold mirrored doors were much less polished than before. Claire’s eyes displayed signs of her multiple emotional breaks. Her lids were no longer painted to perfection and her mascara was gone. While freshening up in the restroom she cleaned the dark circles from under her eyes. If they’d planned on exiting through the lobby, she would have needed to redo a great deal of her make-up.
Tony’s jacket was gone and his tie hung loosely through his unbuttoned collar. His shirt contained clues to the location of her missing mascara. Multiple dark smudges stained the now wrinkled white silk.
When the elevator opened to the private parking area, Eric immediately opened the door to the back seat. Claire nodded to Tony’s driver and sat down. She heard Tony’s voice, “Ms. Claire would prefer to ride back to Palo Alto alone. Please call me when she is safely to her door.”
“Yes, Mr. Rawlings.”
Claire heard Tony say, “I can get this.” She then saw Eric move around the front of the car to the driver’s seat. Next, Tony’s face appeared in the opening of the door. She looked into his dark tired eyes. In his outstretched hand was her cellphone. She took it and placed it upon her lap.
“Thank you, Tony. Good-bye.”
“Don’t forget the news release.” His sturdy voice once again held his authoritative CEO tone, the one that gave orders and expected unquestioning obedience. She’d heard that tone for years, directed both at her and at others. Instinctively, the tone heightened her defenses, caused her neck to straighten, and eyes to blaze. She never liked that tone.
“How could I?”
“We will need to discuss it further.”
“I’m discussed out.” Later Claire would reflect on their candor in Eric’s presence. Sometime ago Tony’s intimate staff became part of the woodwork. Claire didn’t mean to say they weren’t people, but, on most occasions she’d forget they were even present.