Truth

Her options for connectivity continued to expand. Whether she used her laptop, her tablet, or her phones, she could stay in touch with the world, anytime – anywhere. This also allowed her to see her personal life laid out for everyone whenever she chose. Having technology denied in past, she now felt compelled to read everything. And apparently since her unusual prison release, Claire Rawlings Nichols was once again deemed newsworthy.

Often her face would appear on the cover of esteemed magazines, the kind which lined the check-out lanes of the grocery stores. Today she saw her picture in a thumbnail on her homepage. Still alone, Claire scanned the link and found the corresponding article: The Rawlings Moving On. It claimed to enlighten the reader on their lives after marriage, complete with pictures. Tony appeared exquisitely dressed with a pretty woman on his arm. According to the article, she was associated with a large hospital in Iowa where her father was CEO and Administrator. The article alluded to the implications of this affluent union, since Mr. Anthony Rawlings was among the top contributors to the hospital. In the opposing frame Claire sat with Harry eating at a café in Palo Alto. According to the article Claire, left penniless, was unemployed and living with Harrison Baldwin, a security guard at SiJo.

The clicks of Amber’s heels upon the hardwood combined with the opening and closing of the front door brought life to the quiet kitchen. Looking up from her laptop, Claire apologized, “I’m so sorry for bringing the two of you into this media mess.”

Amber snickered, as she finished making her cup of coffee, “I’ve never seen anything so ridiculous. I can’t believe reporters think this is news!”

Leaning against the counter, Harry brushed his tussled blonde hair from his eyes and puffed his chest. Claire chuckled, the pictures and article before her forgotten. She found it amusing, no matter the occasion, his golden curls continually fell softly across his face. She wondered if he owned a comb or brush, anything that could possibly tame his unruly mane.

Musingly she fought a new desire to reach out and brush the curls away, to better see his soft blue eyes. The impulse surprised Claire. She gripped the handle of her mug in an effort to stop her hand. Thankfully, her momentary insanity went completely unnoticed by Harry as he postured in preparation for his speech.

In reality, only a second or two had elapsed. However, the rush of blood to her cheeks made Claire lower her face, in a feigned attempt to inspect the contents of her ceramic mug. Slowly, she raised her eyes as Harry spoke, “Actually, I saw today’s article, and I’m honored. I’ve never been a celebrity before.”

Laughing, Amber brushed her brother’s shoulder and glanced toward Claire with a sly smile, “Guess what, Harry? You aren’t one now!” Amber started to walk back toward her bedroom and turned to Claire, “Don’t worry about it. Life’s much more exciting with you around.”

Avoiding Harry’s gaze, Claire looked toward her computer’s homepage, until Harry’s jovial voice brought her back to reality, “So, what do you think? Just in case I end up in People magazine or something, is this shirt all right? Or, do I need something nicer?”

She returned her gaze to the man before her. From behind the soft curls she saw small lines surrounding his sparkling cobalt eyes, and his cheeks raised in a boyish smirk. Claire looked at his collarless black woven shirt with the SiJo Gaming emblem. The shirt wasn’t tight but accentuated his muscular abdomen, broad shoulders, and defined arms. Her eyes scrutinized his attire as they descended to the khaki slacks emphasizing his trim firm waist.

Slowly she realized he was teasing her. “Actually, I think you should change.” Her smile radiated emerald shimmers.

“You do?”

“Yes, maybe something like the jeans you wore last night. You know the ones with holes – it highlights my penniless status.”

With his grin in full gear, he reached out and covered Claire’s hand. Never before had this familiarity ignited the tightness she now felt. Claire fought between the desire to turn her hand over and return the contact and the need to pull away and run to her room. Seemingly unaware of her sudden mixture of feelings, Harry said, “If I ever do live with a penniless woman, I can only hope she has a portfolio like yours.”

“Oh, is that your only requirement?” Her brows rose in question.

“No…” his gaze captivated her, holding her prisoner. “It’s probably the least of my requirements. The first is that she doesn’t tell me what to wear.”

Pulling her stare away, she nonchalantly replied, “Hey, you asked. But, I guess that leaves me out. Should I alert the press?”

He winked, “No, let me enjoy my fifteen minutes for a while.”

Claire shook her head, “Okay, our secret living arrangements are safe with me. Oh, and about fifty other people who live in this building and know the truth.”

“They won’t tell.” With that Harry walked toward the front door, toward his true home.

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