Consequences Page 9

  Waiting by the front door, iPhone in hand texting, stood Anthony. He emitted confidence and animal magnetism. His tuxedo, obviously tailored specifically for him, looked exquisite as it accented his broad shoulders. There wasn’t a piece of his dark hair out of place as it was gelled and combed to perfection. His face smooth like he’d recently shaven. Claire couldn’t help but think that he looked incredibly handsome. Following the sound of Catherine’s cough he glanced to the top of the stairs. Suddenly, the business that was demanding his attention appeared to be forgotten. He watched as Claire gracefully descended the flight of steps. As his eyes beheld her every move she wondered if she should smile. She wasn’t sure how he would react. His expression emanated favor. Claire wanted his approval. She told herself she didn’t need it. She was happy with the way she looked, but she knew she wanted it.

  Once at the bottom of the stairs she proceeded to Anthony’s side. He didn’t speak at first, then not to Claire but to Catherine, “My dear Catherine, you have outdone yourself. You are an artist.” He bowed to her at the waist.

  “Mr. Rawlings, an artist is only as good as her canvas. You are accompanying a beautiful canvas.”

  “Or should we say, she is accompanying me.” Now to Claire, “We must go, Eric is waiting.”

  If Claire was concerned about conversation topics on the drive to Davenport, she needn’t have been. After assisting Claire into the back of the limousine Anthony once again became engrossed in his iPhone and multitasked with his iPad.

  On days he worked from home, Claire was often expected to stay in his office in case her services were required. She overheard many business calls, web conferences, and webinars. Therefore, listening to him discuss some dealings on the phone on the way to the symphony seemed strangely comfortable.

  Claire wanted to thank him, tell him how excited she was to leave the house and see something, anything. However, his work preoccupied him throughout the ride. She was busy too, watching out the tinted window, seeing different views and different things. Even the sensation of being in a car exhilarated her. She had never ridden in a limousine. The interior was exquisite and she could smell the soft leather seats that formed a horseshoe.

  They approached Davenport as the sky filled with a mixture of pink and purple, like vibrant paints swirled together. Soon it began to darken and the lights of the city illuminated the horizon. It was the most splendid combination of sky and skyline she’d ever seen.

  Minutes before their arrival Anthony ceased his business and turned to Claire. “Has Catherine prepared your behavior for the evening as well as she has your appearance?”

  Claire thought to herself, Somewhere in that statement is a compliment. I’m going to take it. “She has given me her advice, but I would feel better if I heard yours.”

  “Very well, when we arrive there will probably be photographers. Do not act surprised or shocked by the attention. Just flash a beautiful smile and radiate confidence. Stay next to me at all times. There will be reporters who will try to learn your identity. I have a publicist that will know the time to release any necessary information. That is not you. I will do most of the talking. However, common sense will need to be with you. If spoken to, you will need to respond, but do not share information that is privileged. Do you understand?”

  “I do.”

  “I have been asked to attend this event because of a donation I made to the Quad City Symphony and the Support the Arts Foundation. Have you ever been to a symphony before?” Claire said that she had not. Anthony continued as the limousine snaked and crawled along narrow streets. Traffic was stop and go. Claire thought this meant they were getting closer. “The symphony is a delightful evening. I believe you will enjoy the music. The conductor is incredibly talented.”

  “Thank you, Anthony, for allowing me to join you this evening.”

  “I admit you have learned your lessons well. Now it is time to see if you can continue to follow the rules outside the boundaries of my land.”

  “I will do my best.”

  Anthony gently took Claire’s chin and turned it toward him, “You will succeed. Failure in a public setting is not an option.” Their eyes locked on each other.

  “Yes, Anthony. I will continue to follow your rules.” The car slowed and stopped.

  Anthony whispered, “Wait for Eric, he will open the door and assist you in getting out. I will be right behind you and we will enter the theater together.”

  Catherine said there would be people looking at them and Anthony warned about photographers, but Claire hadn’t expected the Emmy red carpet treatment. There were cameras everywhere and people shouting questions.

  At WKPZ there was a meteorologist, Jennifer, about ten years Claire’s senior. She took Claire under her wing and taught her all about working for a news station. Jennifer was preparing Claire for the cameras prior to the buyout. The stage advice Jennifer gave her about appearance and demeanor proved helpful. She told Claire, “When those cameras turn on and your image transcends people’s living rooms, they don’t care if your dog just died, your boyfriend cheated, or you won the lottery. They care about the weather. So find a mask, keep it polished, and when that red light turns on wear it proudly.” It worked for Jennifer. She retained her position after the buyout.

  Eric opened the door. Claire gently swung her legs outside the car and put on her mask. It was the mask of the beautiful face she had seen smiling back at her in the bathroom mirror earlier that evening. Her movements proceeded gracefully and her smile never waned. She diligently followed everyone’s advice.

  Anthony exited the car, nodded with a handsome smile to the crowd, and gently placed his hand in the small of Claire’s back. Her nervousness changed to exhilaration as they advanced through the crowd and into the theater. Waiting inside the doors was a man who enthusiastically greeted Mr. Rawlings and escorted them upstairs to a private room. Once there, the reporters were gone, but the people remaining were equally anxious to speak with Anthony Rawlings.

  As they mingled, Anthony took two crystal flutes of champagne and handed one to Claire. His voice sounded different, chatty, as he greeted and was greeted by people. He graciously introduced his companion, Claire Nichols, to the individuals and couples they encountered. Claire smiled politely, shook hands, and made small talk. Claire watched the man she’d come to know, he seemed so different. Many people wanted to talk to him and he knew all their names. His social skills captivated her.

  After the lights flashed, he gently touched her elbow and led her to their seats. They stepped through the black curtain and Claire could see the entire theater. Anthony had directed her to a private box above and to the right of the stage. They sat and she beheld the magnificent view, the ornate walls, crowds of nicely dressed people, and beautiful velvet curtain. Too quickly the auditorium darkened and the spotlight hit the stage.

  A woman with a German accent began to speak. “Before we begin tonight’s performance, I would like to thank everyone for their attendance. I would like to ask you, the audience, to join us at the Quad City Symphony in thanking the one man who made this evening’s performance, as well as future performances, possible, Mr. Anthony Rawlings.”

  Suddenly, the spotlight shone directly into their box. The crowd erupted in applause and a standing ovation. Claire watched as Anthony stood and acknowledged the gratitude with a dashing smile and a wave. He sat back down, and with the light still on them, leaned over and took Claire’s hand. She smiled at him, his eyes were so light. The spotlight turned off and the symphony began.

  They hardly spoke during the entire performance other than to comment on a musical piece. When not occupied with applauding, Anthony’s hand gently held Claire’s. The entire concert ended too soon. The lights came up and they stood to go. Whispering in his ear Claire thanked him again. It had been more than she could have imagined. He smiled, and gently placing his hand in the small of her back, led her through the crowd to the foyer. Once outside, Eric opened the door of the waiting
car and Anthony assisted Claire as she entered the limousine.

  The stark contrast in volume left Claire’s ears ringing as the limousine pulled away from the curb. Her mind swirled with thoughts, the evening had been wonderful—the music, the champagne, the people, the theater, everything. They were riding for a few minutes when she realized Anthony hadn’t spoken since they entered the limousine. Her heart rate increased as she contemplated the possibility that he was upset. She told herself that he couldn’t be. She did everything that everyone told her to do. She kept up appearances and let him do most of the talking. She could feel his eyes upon her, but was afraid to turn and face them. The ringing in her ears turned to silence. Completely devoid of sound, silence. She adjusted her new mask and turned. “That was a magnificent evening, thank you again.”

  “Do you really think so?” She wondered if he was asking about the symphony or her.

  “I do. The music was performed beautifully and you were right about the conductor.” Her pulse quickened, unable to take the suspense any longer. “Did I do all right?”

  “What do you think?”

  She considered her answer and all he told her. “I think I did well. I listened to Catherine and to you and did well.” She hoped her voice didn’t expose her insecurity.

  Anthony didn’t respond but reached into his briefcase. Claire assumed the conversation was now over and he planned to resume work. She decided that if the conversation was over and he didn’t say that she failed, she must have succeeded. She exhaled. Suddenly, he turned to her and extended a square black velvet box. “I believe you did well.” She liked the tone of his voice, it sounded like the man at the theater. “I have told you that every action has a consequence. That can be negative as we have seen, or positive. I believe you earned a positive consequence.”

  “Anthony, I don’t need a gift. I wanted to make you proud. If I did that, then I am happy and that is enough.”

  “It is a gift, or at least I believe it was. However, it is not new.” Anthony still held the box before Claire. With the running lights illuminating in the cabin she could see his smile, genuine, not cruel or sadistic. “Is it always going to be this difficult to get you to open gifts?”

  She took the box. “You have my curiosity peaked, what are you giving me that is old?”

  She opened the velvet hinged box. The lump in her throat made her choke, unable to speak. The dainty white gold chain with a pearl on a white gold cross hung on the satin. The surprise overwhelmed her. She only saw the necklace for a millisecond before her eyes filled with tears. She looked at Anthony again, tears trickling down her cheeks. “How did you? Where did you get this? It was my grandmother’s.”

  “It was in your apartment in Atlanta when it was cleaned out. I thought you might want to have it. Do you?”

  Claire listened to his words. Her apartment had been cleaned out. Where were the rest of her things? She would need to compartmentalize. Right now, she concentrated on her grandmother’s necklace. “Oh yes, I do!”

  He asked if he could help her put it on. She nodded yes, a verbal answer wasn’t required. Next he took the box out of her hand and started to remove the satin board. Claire observed his tenderness as he held the fine chain and delicate clasp. She turned away and he draped the necklace around her neck. Taking the compact out of her purse, she watched as the pearl moved up and down to the beat of her heart.

  “Anthony, there isn’t a necklace that you could have bought that would mean more to me than this.” Her tears were dry but he watched as her emerald-green eyes sparkled.

  “People that know me well, and they are numbered, call me Tony. You may call me Tony.”

  “Thank you, Tony. This is the best night of my life. How can I ever thank you?”

  Tony turned off the riding lights in the cabin. Home was still over a half hour away and the window between them and Eric was closed. “I actually have a few ideas.”

  My formula for living is quite simple. I get up in the morning and

  I go to bed at night. In between, I occupy myself as best I can.

  —Cary Grant

  Chapter 9

  The weather continued to warm. Claire could now sunbathe in her new bikinis. Each time she stepped through the door onto the deck of the pool, she felt like she was entering a resort. She could eat at one of the umbrella tables or read in a lounge chair or swim in the tepid water. The Iowa sunshine resulted in a beautiful golden tan. Her hair, which was always brown, now shimmered with golden highlights contrasting the chestnut shade.

  It seemed impossible, but Claire actually felt busy. She would wake, work out, shower, and eat breakfast. Then if Tony were out of the house, the possibilities were numerous. The pool remained a good option. However, Claire preferred that in the afternoon. What she enjoyed beyond anything was exploring the woods. The land around Anthony Rawlings’s estate extended for miles in most directions. One evening, she asked if walking in the woods was permitted. Tony explained that she could probably walk hours and not reach the property line. He never ventured into the woods but had flown over in a helicopter to survey the land, determining the best location for the house. This made her feel better about exploring. He didn’t want her leaving his property without him or his permission, but she could wander and roam and still follow the rules. The fact that even Tony hadn’t been out there made it more appealing.

  Claire wanted to learn all about the land, to do this she decided to go different directions each time she ventured through the trees. She discovered areas that the trees were so dense there was no ground vegetation and remained cool even as the temperatures of summer increased. She also found spontaneous clearings usually with flowers. The earlier in the morning Claire went into the forest, the more flowers she would see. There were morning glories blue as the sky above. After the sun’s warmth caused those to close, the white daisies and yellow mustard flowers would fill the void and create a multicolored canvas. With flowers came insects. Claire watched the bees busily pollinating and the multiple kinds of butterflies fluttering about. She decided to check Tony’s library to see if he had a book that would help her classify the different species.

  Catherine expected Claire back for lunch each day, so she tried not to venture farther than an hour and a half in any direction. During her past life, she walked for exercise, sometimes at a gym but more often around her neighborhood in Atlanta. Walking on sidewalks and through a nearby park she measured distance by time. One mile took fifteen minutes. Lately her adventures took her along the path less traveled. It wasn’t unusual for her to climb over fallen trees or up steep embankments. Due to these obstacles Claire estimated that one mile took closer to twenty minutes. With those calculations she traveled approximately four miles away from the house on each adventure.

  One morning, she happened upon a den of foxes. Initially frightened, she watched them from a distance. There were two large and three small foxes. The small ones ventured away from the den, but the larger ones would always be within sight. It reminded Claire of camping with her dad and made her feel warm and reassured.

  It seemed like the thoughts she had more recently were of her childhood and not her precontractual adult life. Perhaps it was a compartmentalization thing. Childhood was the past. It couldn’t be changed, only remembered.

  Her life before March 15 was actually present, or should be present. She should be in Atlanta, tending bar at the Red Wing and trying desperately to find another job in meteorology. She should be going out with friends and drinking so much her head hurt the next morning. She should be talking to her sister on the phone or e-mailing her and learning about her and John.

  Currently nearing the end of June, Emily would be out of school for the summer. John was a busy associate in a law firm. Before Claire disappeared, Emily had mentioned visiting Claire. “You know I’m off work in the summer and John is busy. I could come spend some time with you in Atlanta.”

  “Gosh, that would be great, but it gets really hot here in t
he summer. And I have to work, so you would probably be bored.” Claire now felt bad that she hadn’t been more encouraging.

  Honestly, she worried that Emily would disapprove of her tending bar or something else. Claire hadn’t wanted to listen to her advice. Now she would love to hear her advice or even her voice. Claire sighed and wondered about Emily, did she wonder where Claire was? Had she tried to contact her? Soon she realized the wooded scene in front of her was blurry. The tears were spilling over her lids onto her cheek. Claire decided to avoid those thoughts. Put them away in that compartment labeled later. Childhood provided safer thoughts and memories.

  Tony explained that his land was virtually pie-shaped. The front of the property was where the drive met the highway, then the house, and then the land fanned out from there. Claire felt as though she was getting a handle on the layout of the property but it was taking time. Luckily, she thought, that is the one thing I have plenty of, because there’s a lot of land to explore. Of course, that followed with thoughts of the mysterious timetable. When would her debt be considered paid?

  One cool morning Claire sat on her jacket at the edge of a beautiful clearing and watched a magnificent wildlife performance. First she saw deer run across the open field. With each jump their white tails caught the sun like bright white powder puffs. The longer she sat the more deer she saw. They would slowly approach the clearing, run across, and slow again once in the safety of the trees. There was no threat to them at that time, but instinct told them that the trees held security. Claire wondered where her security was. Or perhaps this was a lesson in instinct?

  Claire contemplated talking to Catherine about packing a lunch so that she could stay out in the woods longer. Then she decided that might be something to do when Tony was out of town. She didn’t want to get lost and not be back to the suite by 5:00 p.m. She hated his rules, but following them made her life more pleasant.