Consequences Page 12

  The host informed them that their table was ready and they moved to the dining room. Again, Tony ordered their meal. Claire’s attention was completely centered on him. He required that, maintaining appearances. She discovered that Tony spoke French. Since she didn’t, she didn’t know what he said to the waiter. When the bottle of wine arrived, after sipping on cocktails, Claire was surprised. “This is a special occasion,” Tony said. The waiter poured a small amount of wine into a glass and offered it to him. He approved, and two glasses were poured.

  If the prelude hadn’t been so tempestuous the dinner would have been more pleasurable. Claire remembered Tony saying he didn’t approve of alcohol because it diminished the senses. Currently feeling her body ache, she welcomed the diminishing effects. Of course, she didn’t show her uneasiness with the return of the Anthony Rawlings she had known. She obeyed the rules and remained the perfect companion.

  On the way back to the apartment, Eric drove them around Manhattan to enjoy the lights, sights, and sounds. New York City was truly spectacular. It had been so long since Claire had experienced so many people and so much energy. If Tony weren’t running his hand up her thigh, it would have been more enjoyable.

  Tony decided they would return to Iowa in the morning. As they were about to fall asleep he asked about shopping. Her body exhausted, her head spinning from the alcohol, she said it was nice and could she please show him the purchases in the morning? They both fell asleep.

  We shall draw from the heart of suffering

  itself the means of inspiration and survival.

  —Sir Winston Churchill

  Chapter 11

  His alarm sounded, and Mr. Rawlings called for the car. It would be ready to take them to the airport at 6:00 a.m. Claire knew she would rather be back in her suite, waking at eight, working out, eating, and being on her own schedule. When she worked at WKPZ, she needed to wake before three every morning. But back then, she went to bed much earlier and, most importantly, alone.

  A little after five, she sleepily entered the shower. Turning her face to the hot spray, she desperately tried to revive her senses and dull the aches in her body. The water began the process, but the real awakening came as she heard the glass door slide and saw Tony enter the steamy stall. His only expectation was to get clean. However, the act, the sharing of this personal space nonsexually, was more intimate than Claire anticipated or desired.

  Once on the jet, she asked about his associates. Tony explained that Mr. Simmons and Mr. Field stayed behind to complete the contracts and Ms. Michaels had left on another company jet yesterday. During the two-and-a-half-hour flight, it was only the two of them in the cabin. Tony busily read his computer screen while Claire watched the clouds under the plane and contemplated the trip, disappointing and short. She thought pensively about her missed opportunity to contact Emily and John. She hadn’t spoken to anyone from her past for almost four months. Did anyone wonder what happened to her? Were they concerned that she’d dropped off the earth? But then she thought about Tony. He’d taken her out and introduced her to the world. She couldn’t be a missing person or the police would have gotten involved. She wasn’t sure how this publicity thing worked. Maybe Emily knew she was seen out with Mr. Anthony Rawlings. Claire berated herself. She worried more about not disappointing Tony than thinking to contact her sister.

  Suddenly, Tony broke the silence. “Now tell me about your shopping trip.” The domineering man from the night before was gone. His tone was friendly and inquisitive.

  Claire did her best to respond with the appropriate tone and inflection. “It was amazing. New York is such a bustling city. I wasn’t worried about people, or should I say reporters, approaching me.”

  “That concerns you?”

  “Yes. After that scene at the benefit, I am terrified someone will approach me. I know how much appearance and privacy means to you.”

  Satisfied, Tony smiled smugly. “Very well, that is interesting. Go on, what did you buy?”

  “Well, first I went to Versace and found a couple of dresses and some shoes. I think you will like them. I made my way along Fifth Avenue and bought some sunglasses. Oh, they are here in my purse.” She pulled them out and put them on. Tony smiled and removed them from her green eyes. He liked her eyes and didn’t want them covered. Claire continued chattily, “I also found some lingerie,” managing to smile coyly, “which I believe you will like.”

  His eyes were soft, fully focused, and his expression was amused. “It sounds like you did well. Do you mind telling me how much you spent?”

  Claire’s eyes dropped to the floor. She knew five thousand was nothing to Tony, but it would have been a month’s salary for her parents. Two outfits, shoes, sunglasses, and some silk and lace seemed like such a small accumulation for that much money. Tony gently lifted her chin to resume eye contact. Her eyes shone as she flashed a smile and spoke. “About five thousand.”

  His reaction surprised her. He laughed. She waited to see if it was a laugh leading to something else, but no, it was just a laugh. Finally, he responded, “Good job, Claire. You may get the hang of this yet. I look forward to my private fashion show tonight when I return to the house.”

  It bothered Claire that he could treat her in such a demeaning manner in the bedroom or wherever he chose and then turn around and act like nothing happened. She needed to work on compartmentalizing the sex away from the rest of her life. That was harder than it sounded.

  Once they arrived back to Iowa, they entered Tony’s waiting car and Eric drove them back to the house. Tony needed to get a few things before heading into the office in Iowa City. He would be leaving tomorrow for ten days in Europe and had some loose ends that required his immediate attention.

  After the car entered the gates to the estate, they took the long winding drive and approached the mansion. Claire usually saw the house from the back. She rarely left the property, but when she did it was usually at night. Now seeing it in daylight, the beautiful combination of river stone, limestone, and brick combined with the Romanesque style architecture gave her a new appreciation. Tony had said he’d built the house about fifteen years ago, but it looked older. It didn’t look outdated or antiquated. It looked as if it had been designed for an earlier time. Claire couldn’t help but ask, “Tony, you said you built this house about fifteen years ago?”

  “Yes,” he answered as Eric came around the front drive. “Why do you ask?”

  “I am not used to seeing it from the front. It’s beautiful!” He thanked her. She continued, “But it looks older than fifteen years to me, the style I mean.”

  “I patterned it after my family’s home from when I was a child.”

  Claire knew he lost his parents and didn’t want to stir up bad memories but her curiosity got the best of her. “I thought you built your fortune from nothing. How did your parents have a house like this?” They were now getting out of the car.

  “It was my grandfather’s, not my parents’. My father was weak. However, my grandfather’s house and money were all lost over twenty-five years ago. My grandfather trusted the wrong people.”

  That seemed like a wealth of information. She wasn’t sure what it meant. Catherine told her that Mr. Rawlings didn’t allow many people to get close. She was sure this family history had something to do with that. As they walked to his office she tried for a little more information. “It truly is amazing. Did you pattern the inside after it too?”

  “Mostly. I even found and purchased some of the original artwork and antiques. However, I wanted my home equipped with all the modern conveniences and security equipment. Every inch of this house is under constant surveillance. I will not make the same mistake my grandfather made.” Claire considered what he was saying, he meant every inch of the perimeter. He was stopping someone from getting in who wasn’t supposed to be there. “Haven’t you ever wondered how the staff knows exactly when to enter your room?” Tony now stood behind his desk, punching some buttons on his computer and
rummaging through papers.

  Claire’s knees felt weak, and she thought she may need to sit down. “You mean my suite is under surveillance? Like there are cameras?”

  Tony looked up from the papers and met Claire’s eyes. He saw the repugnance and slowly smiled. His words slowed, adding malice, “Yes, of course. It is all video recorded and saved.” Claire sat on the nearest chair. He was suddenly making the most of her newfound discomfort. “Perhaps we could have a premier viewing together, critique and work on revisions.”

  She detested his existence. “Tony, please tell me you are joking, some sort of sick joke.”

  His vile smirk gave spark to his darkening eyes. “But, my dear Claire, I am not. Now the staff does not have access to the view of your bed, only I have that. But they do have view of the sitting area and the doorways to and from your dressing room and bath. That is how they have been able to come and go without you seeing them.”

  “But why? Why would you do that? Why would you keep it?”

  Tony picked up his needed papers and a flash drive and moved to leave his office, “Because I can. I can watch and decide what I like and what I believe can be improved. You will understand after you get a chance to view it. Maybe tonight, but now I must be going.” He started to walk toward the hall doors. Claire didn’t think her legs could support her weight, she stayed seated. The thought of him watching them, of her watching him with her, it all made her physically sick. She seriously believed that if she stood she wouldn’t be able to control the revolt that was occurring in her stomach. Tony reiterated, “It is time to exit my office.” He watched as she sat motionless and heartlessly added, “And in case you were wondering, yes, this too is under surveillance, except for my desk. But I do have a great view of the sofa and this open area.” He nastily grinned and gestured to the setting of one of her worse nightmares. Something she’d pushed away. Now she knew he had it on video and watched it! “Claire, I need to go. Get out of the chair, now.”

  She absently stood, only thinking about keeping her breakfast down. She tried desperately to keep all other thoughts out of her mind as she walked out of the office. Before she knew it, she was back in her suite. Her head spun. She wanted to flop on the sofa and stop the thoughts that bombarded her mind, but he could see her. Was there anywhere that he couldn’t see her?

  That night they dined on the back patio, it was shaded and the night air felt warm. The yard looked picture perfect. Even with the recent heat wave which had been accompanied by a drought, his lawn was lush and green thanks to the marvels of a sprinkling system and ground’s crew. He was doing what she despised, talking about his trip to Europe, the time in New York, anything except the cameras and videos. Claire couldn’t understand how he could behave one way, say something, and then act as if it never happened. She, however, was having difficulty thinking of anything else. Her appetite gone, she barely ate any of her dinner.

  Once they were done dining Tony led Claire to the movie theater. It was her retreat, a place to escape, watch singing and dancing. Tonight Tony didn’t intend to watch a musical. He programmed the video system and entered a passcode. Suddenly, the screen was full of dates and locations, such as “May 05, 2010, S.E. suite.” He had the ability to scroll to different dates and different locations. It wasn’t just her room. There were locations like garages, kitchen, foyer, stairs, theater, pool, S.E. 2 floor hall, S.E. 1 floor hall, etc.

  In some humiliating form of torture he chose, 2010 March 20, S.E Suite, and then programmed the time. He scrolled up and the time decreased, 9, 8, 7. He returned to approximately 8:00 a.m. He hit enter, and there on the movie screen, bigger than life, was Claire’s suite. She wore a white robe and lay curled up on the floor near the hall door. Claire didn’t need to watch, she knew too well what would happen. She also knew that the Claire on the screen was covered in bruises, her hair was a mess, and she could see the demolition of the room. Now she heard a beep and the door opened. The screen Claire jumped up, also hearing the sound and Tony entering. “Good morning, Claire.” Screen Claire looked at Tony. “Good morning, Anthony. I want you to know, I have decided to go home. I will be leaving here today.” Screen Tony then spoke, his black eyes shining. He was smiling, “Do you not like your accommodations?” His smile widened. “I do not believe you will be leaving so soon. We have a legally binding agreement.” The real Claire watched as the Tony on the screen took a bar napkin from his suit pocket and continued, “Dated and signed by both of us.”

  Claire didn’t want to watch anymore. “Please, Tony. I don’t want to see this.” She covered her eyes. Tony physically removed her hands from her eyes.

  “I promised a viewing. I said you will watch. And you will.” The video had progressed in real time. Claire looked up in time to hear her own voice obviously containing alarm. “It is not the end of this discussion. This is ludicrous. An agreement doesn’t give you the right to rape me! I am leaving.” Knowing what was to come. Claire closed her eyes as she heard Tony’s hand contact the screen Claire’s left cheek. Unknowingly her own fingers drift toward her left cheek. Opening her eyes she saw herself fly across the floor and Tony walk over to that Claire. She closed her eyes again, hearing the voice on the screen with the cruel tone, “Perhaps in time your memory will improve. It seems to be an issue. Let me remind you again, rule number one is that you will do as you are told. If I say a discussion is over, it is over, and this written agreement which states whatever is pleasing to me, means consensual, not rape.” The real Claire still had her eyes shut. She knew that the Tony on the screen was straightening his jacket. She could hear him continue in a disturbing authoritative voice, “I have decided that it would be better if you did not leave your suite for a while. Don’t worry, we have plenty of time, $215,000 worth of time” She opened her eyes again to see the screen Tony step on broken crystal and speak again in a tone that made the real Claire shiver, “I will tell the staff that you may have your breakfast after this crystal is cleaned up.” The Tony on the screen left Claire’s room.

  “Please stop the video,” Claire cried. She couldn’t help it. “Please, I can’t watch anymore.”

  Relishing Claire’s suffering, Tony said, “Oh, there are so many videos, we can watch for hours.” He hit some buttons and went back to the menu. “For example,” the screen read, March 19, 2010, “how do you suppose your suite got into that condition? I am sure we could find out.”

  “Please!” she pleaded. Her head hurt and her stomach twisted in knots. She couldn’t stand this. She tried desperately to make it stop. “Please, you are leaving tomorrow. Wouldn’t you rather spend tonight making movies instead of watching?” Her eyes were red and puffy and her nose ran from crying.

  Tony smirked at her desperation. His tone dripped with ruthlessness, “But maybe we should watch some more, find out where you need improvement.”

  “I will do anything you say, anything you want me to do differently, just tell me. Just please don’t make me watch.” Claire was now on the floor kneeling in front of Tony, crying. She hated that she’d been reduced to begging, but this ruined her whole compartmentalization. How could she keep these awful memories hidden if he made her watch them?

  His dark eyes pierced her soul and his voice was ice cold. “You will do whatever I say, even if it is to watch. But . . .” He hesitated to add emphasis. “I do not want to spend my last night for over a week here with you in this condition.” He stood, causing her to fall back onto the floor. “I will be in your suite in a few minutes.” Claire stood. He continued, “Go up and get ready. Wash your face! You look like hell, and as far as attire . . . I am thinking some new lingerie.”

  She started to leave the theater as Tony gripped her arm. She stopped, met his gaze, and listened to his steely tone, “Claire, what do you say?”

  She looked at him, fire in her moist eyes. They stood silent for a moment while Claire’s confused mind spun. She couldn’t fathom what he wanted. When it hit her she wanted to scream. It took all the reso
lve she had not to lash out. Instead, she managed, “Thank you, Tony.”

  Loosening his grip he responded, “You may demonstrate your gratitude when I get upstairs.”

  Claire continued to stand, afraid to move. Her mind was a mess, not knowing what to do or say, all she could do was pray she would never see another of those videos. As if sensing her bewilderment, Tony remained in control of her motion, “You may go to your suite now.”

  It was after sunrise when Claire felt Tony get out of her bed. She listened as he picked up his clothes and knew he was dressing. Next she heard him open a drawer and rifle through it. She opened her eyes and in the dim light saw him writing a note. When he turned to look at her, she closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. Doing her best to keep her breathing steady, she remembered that he wouldn’t be back for over a week. At this moment in time, she detested everything about Anthony Rawlings.

  Lust and greed are more gullible than innocence.

  —Mason Cooley

  Chapter 12

  Nathaniel didn’t mind the commute between New York and New Jersey, especially when he drove the winding drive toward his home. Each time the beautiful combination of river stone, limestone, and brick came into view, he momentarily remembered the two-room apartment he’d shared with his wife. For a young soldier recently home from fighting the Japs, it was ample. Being a soldier was the only attribute Sharron’s family had seen in him. That was the only reason they allowed their daughter to marry Nathaniel Rawls.

  Today as he stepped into the marble entry, he wished her high-and-mighty father could see his daughter now. Oh yes, Nathaniel Rawls did make something out of himself. And now with Clawson’s ideas, there is so much more to be made. If his father-in-law were still alive he would gladly shove this up his—