Make Me: Twelve Tales of Dark Desire Read online

  At 6:45 PM Claire went down to the sitting room and waited for dinner. A little after 7:00 PM Tony joined her. “Good evening, Claire.”

  “Good evening, Anthony.” They walked to the dining room.

  “I went to your suite expecting to find you there.”

  “I apologize. I was told dinner would be in the dining room at 7:00 PM, I didn’t want to be late.” She emphasized her obedience to his rules. Tony pulled out a chair, she sat. She couldn’t help notice his eyes—black as night. She knew her impudence had an effect on him, and she needed to be cautious. She was walking a slim hazardous line.

  “Your punctuality is dutifully noted. It seems my absence has helped you remember who’s in charge and what guidelines you are to follow.”

  “Yes, your absence was advantageous on many counts.” She placed the napkin on her lap. Tony’s eyes were piercing. After a prolonged silence, Claire decided to lighten the mood. “I believe it helped me recognize I owe you much, not just the money to repay my debt, but the confidence you’ve shown in me.” He was listening, “The confidence to trust me with your intimate beliefs”—she paused and waited. He didn’t comment—“I will not betray that confidence.”

  Cindy and Carlos entered the dining room, placed plates with food, and poured water and tea. Claire and Tony remained silent until after the staff exited.

  “Claire, if you’re sincere, you never cease to amaze me. If, however, you’re playing me—you will regret it.” His eyes were intense, probing for answers to her motivation.

  “Tony, what would I gain by playing you? I’m aware my present, future, and release are solely in your hands. I’m sorry for my behavior before you left.” She was pretty sure she sounded earnest.

  Tony seemed satisfied. He didn’t tell her it was all right, instead he changed the subject, and they ate. After dinner they went out to the gardens for a stroll. It was there he asked about her hikes in the woods. How far did she walk? Where did she go? How long was she gone? Claire didn’t want to tell him about the lake, but she was afraid to lie. He saw on the video surveillance she left the yard at one time and didn’t return until another.

  She told him about the multiple clearings, insects, flowers, and animals—and the lake. He seemed surprised. He said he’d seen it years ago on his flyovers, but it had to be six or seven miles from the house. Suddenly, she worried. “Is it still on your land?”

  Appreciating her concern, he told her yes, she’d stayed on his land. While they conversed, his eyes lightened. He reached into his breast pocket and brought out a black velvet box. “I found these for you in Italy. I thought they made a nice complement to your necklace.”

  Claire opened the box. Inside, she discovered a pair of pearl earrings. The large cream colored pearls were almost identical in size and color to the one on her grandmother’s necklace; however, they were offset by white gold circles. They were pretty—but different. Claire tried to understand his meaning.

  Tony explained, “Your necklace is a cross, which is an X on its side. Now your earrings are O’s—X’s and O’s.” He smiled.

  It wasn’t as if she suddenly liked him, she didn’t; however, she appreciated the thought he put into his gift. It was a sweet and unexpected gesture. “Thank you, Tony. It was very kind of you to think of me during your busy trip.”

  They made it through this storm. Leaving wasn’t an option, but they seemed to reach an understanding. Tony knew he was in control. He didn’t need to prove it. Claire knew she was in control of her actions, she could choose to fight or complain. Her plan was for self-preservation until she was free. This had been a good old-fashioned thunderstorm—loud and boisterous but no real damage.

  Days passed and turned into weeks. It was the end of August and Claire’s schedule remained constant. The only variable was Tony’s work location. Before he left for Europe, he offered Eric for her use. Since his return he hadn’t mentioned her leaving the property. She hadn’t been off the estate since New York and that was a month ago. Truthfully, she didn’t miss the cities—she missed the lake. She kept praying for him to be called away for a few days; it didn’t happen.

  Something else that hadn’t happened since Tony’s return was his threat of video screening. Other than the first night back, trying to bait her, he hadn’t mentioned the videos. It was as if they no longer existed. Claire knew that wasn’t true, but the illusion helped her compartmentalize.

  Sundays usually involved staying at home, in his office, her suite, at the pool, anywhere that allowed for relaxation. Tony often needed to read or talk to Brent Simmons about something, but he slated Sundays for his time to do as he pleased. It was Sunday, August 29 when Claire decided to ask Tony for a favor.

  He told her once that if she wanted something, she needed to ask. They were lounging at the pool, enjoying the last few days of the season when she asked, “Tony, I have a favor to ask of you.”

  He lay on a lounge chair, his dark hair soft and wavy after drying in the sun, relaxing following a recent encounter in the pool. His swim trunks revealed his firm, defined, tanned body. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses and he didn’t move; however, he replied, “Go ahead.”

  “I’d like to call my sister.”

  Slowly, he sat, removed his sunglasses, and shot his piercing eyes her direction. “I believe this has been discussed, and you know my decision. I’ve determined it’s better if you don’t have contact with your family.”

  Although it was meant as a final statement, she persisted. “I remember you saying that; however, a lot of time has passed. I won’t say anything you don’t want me to say”—she could sense Tony was becoming more irritated, but she bravely added more information—“her birthday is August 31.”

  He took a breath, exhaled, and lay back down. Claire waited, he didn’t answer. Putting her head back on the chair, she contemplated how she should revisit the subject without being disrespectful of his answer—or lack thereof.

  *

  Tony closed his eyes against the sunlight. He thought about the framed pictures hidden in the closet in his suite—the ones from Claire’s Atlanta apartment. He’d wondered how long it would take for her to ask to contact her family. It took five months. No doubt, if the means had been available she’d have contacted them sooner.

  If her family consisted of poor farmers from Indiana, the call wouldn’t be much of a risk. Actually, Tony wasn’t concerned about her sister. It was her brother-in-law, John Vandersol, an accomplished attorney that was a potential threat. From humble beginnings, utilizing his intelligence and intuition, he had become an associate at a top-notch law firm in Albany, New York. This was a firm that rarely hired outside of Ivy League schools. The man was even under early consideration for partnership. Tony didn’t feel comfortable with Claire having contact with him.

  As far as Tony was concerned, the past five months had taken favorable, unexpected turns. Claire’s behavior was a pleasant surprise, much better than he’d anticipated while planning her acquisition. Truthfully, while wanting to keep her and use her for himself, he hadn’t been sure it would work. Plan B had always been and supposedly still was still an option, but now that she’d been seen with him in public, it would be difficult to remain completely detached. He didn’t want the addition of Emily, and especially John Vandersol, to upset his perfect equation.

  While Tony contemplated, a rush of fury swept his consciousness. He realized she was questioning—no, arguing—his decision. Not only was she arguing, but he was considering her request. It was the damned pictures, in the stupid frames. A small part of him cared that he’d taken all that away from her. That hadn’t bothered him five months ago. It had actually been quite the coup, but now…hell, it was just one call. Maybe if he could control the content. Reassuring himself—of course he could control the content—he controlled her. He could control a telephone call. Tony decided first he would see how badly she wanted to make this call. He would stand back and watch, see how far Claire would push, observing
her resolve in the face of much adversity, as she attempted to manipulate him. Yeah, no lie, that courage turned him on. Finally, he said, “I’ll think about it.”

  He didn’t bring up the subject again on Sunday. Monday came and went, they spent time together but he didn’t bring up her request. Tuesday was Emily’s birthday. He could sense Claire’s impatience. Her self-control since Sunday was impressive. He wondered if she would just abandon the idea if he didn’t bring it up.

  *

  Claire wasn’t sure if Tony thought that by avoiding the subject she would forget her own sister’s birthday—she didn’t. She’d been good and hadn’t pushed. She rationalized—he’s busy—maybe he forgot. She decided to wait through dinner, if he didn’t mention it, she’d bring it up.

  They ate on the back patio with a slight breeze blowing her hair. The evenings were becoming increasingly cool and Claire regretted not bringing a sweater or light jacket to dinner. When they’d finished eating, Tony began to stand. Claire bit her lip and spoke, “Tony, today is Emily’s birthday.” She’d created an illusion of equality in her mind and didn’t want to beg.

  He resumed sitting and leaned into Claire, his voice sounded threatening—slow and deliberate. “So you’ve decided this subject is worth risking reprimand? I believe my last answer was I would think about it.”

  Claire swallowed with her head high and looked directly into his dark eyes. “Yes, I feel talking to Emily on her birthday is worth the punishment you believe I deserve for pursuing the subject.” Tony didn’t speak but intently maintained their gaze. She waited for his response. Finally, she spoke again, “Tony, may I please call my sister for her birthday?”

  “I have her telephone number in my office. You may call her from there.” Claire’s heart jumped and her eyes sparkled. She started to stand but he indicated for her to remain seated. “First, I will define the rules of this call”—she nodded and listened—“you will speak to her on a speaker phone, with me present. Before you call, we will discuss the limitations of your discussion.” She hated his tone, the one he used when he felt the need to show his authority, but his words were saying she could talk to Emily. The rest didn’t matter.

  Claire replied, “I understand. Thank you, Tony.”

  Walking down the marble corridor toward Tony’s office Claire thought about her sister. They hadn’t spoken in over five months. She fought the incredible urge to run the length of the corridor and grab his telephone. Once in his office, Tony instructed her to sit near his desk. She could see the phone—the anticipation was agony. He sat back in his leather chair and proclaimed, “Do not tell Emily or John that you have been or are living in my home. You may mention that you live and work in Iowa, near the Quad Cities, if you are pressed. I recommend you keep the conversation focused on Emily and avoid discussing yourself. If she brings it up you may admit to accompanying me to various events. Let me emphasize, any subject of you or me is not to be initiated by you. If the subject of getting together comes up—be evasive. The shorter the conversation is the better the chance you won’t make a mistake”—to emphasize her compliance, he added—“disobeying these rules is not an option—the consequence will not be pleasant. Do you have any questions? Do you understand my rules? Are you ready to call?”

  “I don’t have any questions. Tony, I promise I understand the rules, and oh, yes, I’m ready!”

  He removed a piece of paper from the top drawer of his desk and dialed the phone. Then, as if just occurring to him, he added, “There’s a block on this line. My number will not appear on their caller ID.” He hit the speaker button. Claire’s heart leapt as she heard Emily’s line ring.

  It rang and rang until John’s voice came over the speaker, but it wasn’t really him. It was their voicemail. Her heart sank. Looking to Tony she asked, “May I leave a message?” He nodded as John’s voice continued. “May I tell her I’ll try to reach her again?”

  The recording beeped. Finally, Tony nodded.

  Keeping her tone as light as possible, considering the disappointment of reaching their voicemail, Claire said, “Hi Emily and John, it’s Claire. I wanted to call and wish Emily a happy birthday. I’m sorry I missed you. I hope you’re having a great day. Things are very busy, but I’ll try to reach you again, happy birthday!—”

  Tony hit disconnect. Claire didn’t want to stop talking. She lowered her head and felt the tears. Resolved to accept the outcome, she looked up into Tony’s gaze. “Thank you for allowing me to make that call. Do you need me right now or may I go to my room?”

  “You may leave.”

  Dejectedly, she rose.

  Tony continued, “I’ll be up to join you later. I have some work to complete first.” Claire verbally acknowledged his plans and continued to walk toward the grand double doors. As she reached for the handle, he continued, his initial authoritative tone mellowed, “Claire, New York is an hour later than Iowa. Perhaps they went out to dinner and a movie. You can try again later.”

  She didn’t turn back around. She didn’t want him to see the tears cascading down her cheeks. Though fighting sobs, she feigned resolve and articulated, “Thank you.”

  As she stepped into the cool corridor and closed the door to his office, Claire melted onto the marble floor. The staggering disappointment momentarily debilitated her. Eventually, her resolve grew—she regained composure—and obediently walked to her suite. Truthfully, she appreciated his offer.

  About nine in Iowa, they went back to his office to try again. To expedite the process, Claire looked to Tony and proclaimed she remembered the rules and wouldn’t fail. Through the speaker, the phone began to ring. It only rang once when the voice of a woman on the other end answered, “Claire, is that you?”

  Claire’s heart soared. “Yes, Emily, it’s me. Happy birthday, sis!”

  Emily’s voice hadn’t changed. Claire heard the excitement of their reunion coming through the speaker. “Thank you. Hearing from you is the best birthday gift ever. Where are you? Are you all right? Why haven’t you called us?”

  Claire looked from the phone to Tony and then back to the phone. Tony’s eyes spoke volumes. “Hey, slow down. I have a new job that keeps me very busy, but I couldn’t miss talking to you on your special day. How are you doing? How is John? How is his law firm?” She’d done it. She succeeded in getting Emily to talk about them.

  Emily said she was fine. School had recently started, and she thought this was going to be a good class. John was fine, just very busy. The law firm was good, he was an associate now and the more hours he billed the better chance he had of making partner. Claire could have spoken with her for hours. They had so much catching up to do. Instead, Claire apologized and told her she needed to run. She loved her and please give John her love. Emily said, “I would, honey, but John is right here, and he’d love to talk with you!”

  Claire looked at Tony. His eyes darkened as his head slowly shook.

  Claire replied, “I’d really like to, but I really need to run. Have a great birthday. Bye.” Again, Tony pressed disconnect.

  Claire stared at the telephone for the longest time. This was one of those junctures. She could be sad the conversation was short or she could choose to be happy there had been a conversation. She decided to pick B.

  Standing to leave Tony’s office, she looked up to see him leaning back in his chair. His eyes devoured her as he unbuckled his belt. With sickening comprehension Claire understood, in his mind he’d shown a kindness, now he expected gratitude—quid pro quo.

  If life were predictable it would cease to be life and be without flavor.

  —Eleanor Roosevelt

  Chapter Fifteen

  ‡

  “We’ve been invited to a Labor Day barbeque, tomorrow.”

  Sitting on the sun porch, reading her new novel, and enjoying the Sunday afternoon, Tony’s casual announcement surprised Claire. The warm gentle breeze and faint smell of cut grass gave way to a rush of anxiety and disbelief. “We? Who would invite me?
”

  “Courtney, Brent Simmons’ wife,” Tony said while lounging on the loveseat with his laptop on his outstretched legs. His light brown eyes gazed at Claire as she questioned him.

  “Why? What does she know about me?”

  “Well, Brent met you when I brought you to New York, and Courtney knows I’ve been seen with the same woman on multiple occasions. Since they’re probably my closest friends, she wants to meet you and invited both of us to tomorrow’s barbeque.”

  Despite her sudden rush of anxiety at meeting his closest friends, Claire knew her fate wasn’t in her hands. “Are we going?”

  “Yes. It starts at noon, and we’ll leave here by 11:30 AM.”

  “I guess it sounds like fun.” Her tone was tentative. She wondered what these friends would think of her. Did they know him well enough to know the truth about her? If they didn’t, how should she act? Her stomach began to knot with unanswered concerns. “Please let me know if there’re different instructions for an intimate barbeque versus a public event.”

  Tony set his laptop on the table and contemplated Claire’s honest question. His words sounded instructive, but his tone wasn’t authoritative, just matter-of-fact as they gazed at one another. The late summer breeze caused strands of her long golden brown hair to float around her beautiful face. Her green eyes saw only him as her expression reflected her sincere interest in his advice. “You’ve done well at public events, this will be different. I believe there’ll be four or five couples present. You met Brent. His wife is Courtney. They have two children who are grown and live away. Brent’s law partner Thomas Miller will be there. His wife is Beverly. She owns a renowned design firm in Bettendorf. Brent is a few years my senior. Thomas and Beverly are closer to my age, they have no children. Another guest will be Elijah Summer and his long-time companion MaryAnn. Elijah is another client of Brent and Tom’s. He’s made a fortune in the entertainment business and enjoys telling stories about some of his more famous clients. Personally, I believe he enjoys hearing himself talk”—Tony paused and smiled—“much more than I like to hear him talk, and the last couple will be Timothy Bronson and his wife Sue. Tim’s a junior vice president at my local office. He’s young, but has proven himself. I asked Brent to invite him to make him feel involved.”