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  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 may 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.

  Chapter Fifteen

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

  —Eleanor Roosevelt

  “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.”

  That was all helpful information, Claire desperately tried to remember names: Brent and Courtney, Thomas and Beverly, Elijah and Sue. No, Elijah and Mary Ann, Timothy and Sue, but that really didn’t answer her question. Claire thought to herself, there were wives and long-time companions, what did that make her? “Tony, who am I?”

  “You’re a rumor.” Perhaps it was the calm setting of the sun porch or their recent understanding, whatever the reason, Tony spoke thoughtfully. He explained he’d spent his entire life working, accomplishing goals, and fulfilling self-made agendas. He’d been in relationships, most very short-lived. He believed strongly in appearances and had not been willing to risk the perception people have of him on a woman. Claire thought about his words and his honesty, and right or wrong, she believed him. He continued, “You told me that you wouldn’t betray my confidence.”

  “I did, and I still mean that.”

  “I believe you know what could happen if you did.” Feeling the prickling sensation which accompanies chills along your arms and legs, Claire believed she did know, but she didn’t confirm that verbally. She allowed Tony to continue talking. “And therefore I’ve allowed you to become part of my life.”

  She thought he honestly meant that as a compliment, and she should be flattered; however, it felt more ominous. She wondered and worried about her release. This quiet peaceful setting wasn’t the time or place to voice her concerns. Instead, she decided to put it away and deal with it later.

  He said, “Since you have been seen with me at various events, and I’m rarely seen with the same woman over time, you’re a rumor. There have been countless speculations about you. Everyone, like the man at the benefit, wants to know who you are and what you are to me.”

  Claire admitted, she too, would like the answer to those questions. “I saw our picture in a People Magazine from your library.”

  He said their picture had appeared in many publications. His publicist had kept information limited to the basics: her name and that she lived in Atlanta. The people at this barbeque were part of his inner circle and wouldn’t betray his trust. Other than Elijah Summer, their jobs and livelihood depended on Tony. Elijah was a more public person, but he respected Tony and wouldn’t compromise their mutual friendship.

  She tried one more time, “And I am…”

  “Persistent.” His eyes were soft and light with a contented expression. He spoke as he moved from the loveseat to the floor of the sun porch. “Well, I would say more than an acquaintance…” Kneeling in front of her, he gently spread her knees and moved his hand under the hem of her skirt. Their eyes met as the sides of his lips turned upward into a devilish grin. “…shall we say companion?”

  If that were a question, she didn’t answer. Her attentions were turned to his actions, as his touch directed her from the chair to the straw rug. The windows and doors were open, and they were exposed to the world. It was his house. He didn’t care. Although the porch’s rug was rough, his movements were calm like his tone. The staff didn’t return until they were done.

  Late Sunday night, Shelby on the Weather Channel, said a cold front would pass over Iowa. Claire awoke and opened the drapes to find condensation on the windows with crystal clear skies beyond. Stepping onto her balcony, she looked at the trees and smelled the fresh autumn air. The cool concrete beneath her bare feet and the goose bumps on her arms and legs confirmed the decrease in temperature. Wrapping her arms and her thick cashmere robe around her body, she entertained fleeting memories of autumns past. She always loved summers but autumns were special too, with cookouts and football games. Today the change of season brought sadness: another reminder of time slipping away.

  While in the shower, she contemplated the impending barbeque. It was a new situation—a new test—and as such, made her anxious. She hadn’t received a direct answer to her question; so Claire decided to approach the people at the barbeque as she was told to approach Emily. She would try to turn conversation away from herself and divulge as little information as possible. Evasive answers would be best. There was a time she loved parties, getting together with people, laughing, talking, and sharing. Now, she was petrified of saying or doing something wrong.

  Stepping from the shower, Claire discovered her clothes on her bed. Sometimes that upset her. Other times, like today, it was reassuring: one less decision to mess up. She did her hair, make-up, and dressed. At 10:30 AM she was ready, an hour before they were to leave.

  The balcony held two chairs. She sat plaintively and watched the trees through sun-glassed eyes. The bright sunshine caused a rapid increase in temperature as the trees rustled in the gentle breeze. Vibrant hues of yellow and orange were beginning to emerge from the green canvas. Her mind wandered through the woods to her lake. She hadn’t been back since Tony’s return. That was to say—physically. Mentally, she could be sitting on the shore, watching the minnows or listening to the water rhythmically lap the shore at any time. As a matter of fact she was sitting on the shore, in her mind, when Tony materialized behind her. “Oh, good morning, Tony. I didn’t hear you enter.”

  He eased himself into the other chair. “Good morning, where were you?”

  “I’ve been here. I have nowhere else to go.”

  “You seemed far away.”

  “I was thinking about the trees.” Being partially honest. “Their leaves are already changing.”

  It was as if he never really looked at them. So he did. “I guess they are. That happens.” He didn’t concern himself with matters he couldn’t influence. “Are you ready for our outing?” She said she was, and they proceeded down the grand stairs. “I have a car out front. We can go.”

  When Tony opened the door she saw a small Lexus SC 10 convertible, but no Eric. Tony opened the passenger door, and she got in. He went around to the driver’s seat. She couldn’t help but smile at him. He wore jeans that accentuated his trim waist, a button-down shirt, white, which showed his tan, his powerful chest, and shoulders. His hair was perfect. As she beheld his profile she saw the “red-hot sexy” People Magazine mentioned.

  Glancing at her as he started the car, he noticed her smile seemed different. “What?” he asked.

  “I guess I forgot you drive, without Eric I mean.”

  Tony smiled. “I love to drive; however, it’s more advantageous to be driven and accomplish work during my commutes.”

  The convertible felt liberating with the wind and air invigorating their senses. Thankfully, Claire decided to wear her hair in a side braid. She laid her head on the headrest and watched the road twist and turn, the vibrant sapphire blue of the sky and the autumn colors making picture-perfect views as Tony drove the narrow country roads. Claire inhaled the aromatic autumn air as memories of pumpkins and leaves filled her subconscious.

  The car slowed to a stop along a quiet side road. Tony gently touc
hed Claire’s braid. “Good choice of style.” He smiled. “I’m needed in Chicago for a couple of days next week.” He continued to play with the end of her braid. Claire thought about her lake. “I’ve made you an appointment at a very exclusive spa in my apartment building.” Her attention refocused on him and his words. “Your hair needs trimming, and you can have a manicure, pedicure, full body massage, and sauna—whatever you desire.”

  She started to respond, “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  He stopped her and went on. “I just trust that it won’t need to be canceled.”

  Confused, Claire asked, “Why would it need to be canceled?” As the words escaped her lips she wondered why she cared, she actually didn’t want to go to a spa. She wanted time alone to go to the lake.

  Moving his hand from her braid, he gently removed her sunglasses and lifted her chin, holding her eyes to his. She watched as the dark deepened. “If today doesn’t go as I believe it should, a massage may not be possible. We wouldn’t want appearances to be questioned.” There was no ambiguity to his statement. Claire received his meaning loud and clear. The autumn air suddenly chilled.

  Maintaining forced eye contact, Claire responded, “Tony, I fully comprehend the importance of appearances. I won’t let you down.”

  He handed her the sunglasses, moved his hands back to the steering wheel, and put the car in gear. “As long as we’re clear: public failure is not an option.”

  Claire reassured him, they were clear.

  The Simmons’ home was grand, probably about a quarter of the size of Tony’s, but large by normal standards, with a good deal of land. The Lexus moved slowly through the gates and up their drive as Tony turned to view Claire. She felt his gaze and maintained her mask. By all outward appearance she looked beautiful and content: the ingredients to the perfect companion. She saw his grip on the wheel relax and knew his brown eyes were muted.