She sat straighter, “This is what we need to discuss. Define date.”
His hesitant expression glared -- his gaze loomed shades darker than moments before. “A date is the going out in public of a man and a woman.” He scanned the cafe. “I suppose it could be a man and a man or a woman and a woman; we are in California.”
“Well, that happens in Iowa also. But my point is two people can go out in public and be friends, not dating.”
“I would prefer you didn’t.” Before she could choose the words to her reply, he rephrased, “It would not be publically acceptable, so the answer is no.”
Trying to keep her voice low, “I’m telling you, not asking your permission.”
“This is not debatable.”
“Then what is?” She leaned across the table as indignation infiltrated her words, “Why are we even here, discussing anything at all? If it is all predetermined, just lay out the ground rules.” She tried to keep her voice low and restrain her emotions. “That’s the way you operate. Things don’t change!” Moisture stung her eyes as tears threatened her facade of strength. She stared and waited for the explosion. Claire knew it wouldn’t be overt. Their location was too public, perhaps a whispered clandestine threat.
Although his eyes remained dark, the tips of Tony’s lips moved upward. He reached out and held the hands that lay on the table in front of him. “Yes, sexy as hell.”
Claire removed her hands, sat back against the chair, and pressed her lips together.
His tone lightened with a change of subject, “You know, I don’t think the cooler weather is good for you. You look pale. You need sun.”
“Thanks, I quite like the west coast.”
Tony watched, waiting for more outbursts. Finally he said, “I concede. Some things are debatable. I would make you move to Iowa if I could. Don’t get me wrong. It isn’t that I am incapable. It is that I want you there of your own free will. So that move is debatable.”
“Not debatable -- I’m not going.”
“Now you see. We each have issues where we don’t want to budge. Let’s discuss public events.”
Claire settled back and listened. Tony talked about the different public events and business trips he had scheduled in the near future. He offered transportation, private accommodations, and money to purchase appropriate attire. He also discussed acceptable behaviors while separated. In many ways it reminded Claire of sitting in his office, listening to the ground rules of living in his house. The memories made her feel uneasy. Slowly she felt her pulse increase and the temperature of the room increase. The breeze from the fan remained but was no longer refreshing.
It was then she noticed the food behind her. The man must have had an entire side of pork. His plate overflowed with bacon. The aroma filled the space around their table.
Although Tony was still talking and Claire had been attentively nodding, she abruptly stood. “Tony I can’t do this. I need to leave.”
His shock quickly morphed to irritation, “What?”
“No, not this – us. This – here. I need to go outside.” With that she grabbed her purse and walked briskly toward the door -- away from the mound of pork. Each step eased her discomfort. Nonetheless, it wasn’t until she stepped into the sunshine and felt the wind once again on her face that she could truly inhale.
Only steps behind her, Tony reached for her arm and spun her toward him. His expression changed immediately. The rage disappeared into a mixture of displeasure and concern. “What the hell was that?”
“I don’t know. I think I must have gotten food poisoning last night. How have you been feeling?”
“I feel fine. Is that what this just was, you not feeling well?”
“Yes, it was that bacon. It smelled horrid!”
Tony laughed. “I thought you liked bacon. Catherine used to have it for you all the time.”
Feeling better, Claire smiled, “I did. I do, I think. But I was ill this morning. That’s why I thought I might be late.”
Concern won the race on Tony’s rollercoaster of emotions. “You were ill? I could have come to you.”
Her eyes narrowed, “No. I don’t want you at Amber’s. It just isn’t right.”
“I’ve taken you to my friends. If that is truly your definition of Amber and her brother, what is the problem?”
There were so many things wrong. First his friends reminded Claire of Brent and Courtney, people whom, just this morning, she’d spent over a half hour talking with on the phone. Next, she thought of Tony with Simon’s fiancée. And lastly, Harry. At this moment she wasn’t sure how to define him. But having Harry and Tony together wouldn’t be good, no matter his definition.
“Are we done?” Claire asked.
“There are a few more things to discuss. How do you feel?”
“Better, the fresh air helps.”