Consequences Consequences Page 60 Jan poured the ladies coffee and cleared the table. Claire and Emily sat at the table, drank coffee, and tried to catch up. Once they were alone, Claire knew the conversation would be more difficult to dodge. Emily was full of questions. How was her little sister, a meteorologist in Atlanta, suddenly engaged to one of the wealthiest men in the country? How did they meet? Where has she been living? Why hasn’t she been in contact? Why is she so thin? Why is her hair blonde? Did she really like living this way, being waited on and having house staff do everything? She always liked cooking. Now she says she hasn’t cooked, why? What is Anthony like? Why were they marrying so fast? Is she pregnant? Isn’t he much older than her? Did she love him? Claire did her best to be evasive with some answers and more detailed with others. Above all, she told Emily she did love him. It didn’t start that way. It was strictly a working relationship. Tony could be a wonderful, kind, romantic, and gentle man. She also told Emily that Tony was very private and begged her to not repeat anything about their relationship to the media or anyone else. Claire didn’t understand at first how tenacious the media could be, but the longer she’d been with Tony, the more apparent it had become. Claire asked again, “Please, Emily, not for Tony, but for me—please don’t share private information with anyone else.” Emily said she understood. She was very happy to hear Claire sound so happy and excited about Anthony and their wedding; however, what about her weight? She was too thin, and what about meteorology? Did she plan to ever work again in her chosen field? Claire was tired of all the questions. Formulating answers made her head hurt. She wanted to hear about Emily and John. Emily proceeded to tell her stories about John and the law firm and about her class and teaching. She also talked about some of their friends in Troy and Albany—people Claire knew when she lived with them. Emily even talked about some friends back in Indiana. Claire laughed as they remembered stories from childhood. The names were people Claire hadn’t thought about in some time. Her mind wandered, thinking about the guest list for the wedding. She wondered if she had anyone to invite—other than Emily and John. When she thought about college friends it reminded her of Meredith. Claire knew Meredith hadn’t intended for her sneak interview to produce such drastic consequences—nevertheless—it did. Perhaps college friends were better not invited. The ladies joined the men when they thought the game was nearing its end; however, it was far from over—it was getting interesting. Both men seemed to be cheering for the Saints. Claire had wondered how John and Tony would get along. They were both incredibly strong willed. Tony was not accustomed to being anything less than the alpha male. Thankfully, John seemed to respect Tony, after all he was Anthony Rawlings. Claire loved and respected John. Ever since the death of her father and her grandfather, John was the man of their family, an omnipresent influential part of her life. Now, seeing him next to Tony, she reconsidered her assessment. Tony dominated in structure—probably four inches taller—and in demeanor—more self-assured. They both shouted at the screen as the Saints regained the lead with less than two minutes to go. Then, the room fell silent when it appeared the game would be tied with a field goal. The Dallas kicker missed the field goal—wide left—and the men simultaneously stood and cheered. Seeing these two men united in a common goal, Claire felt her chest swell with delight. After the game they sat in front of a warm fire and enjoyed the lovely view of the city and delicious dessert. As Claire sipped coffee, forgoing dessert, Emily told Tony all about the pies Claire used to bake. She explained what a great cook and baker Claire was. Tony seemed very interested in this new information. They discussed the plans for the next day. Tony needed to work, and John graciously agreed to stay at the hotel and do some work also. Tony explained that Eric, their chauffeur, would bring Claire to the Vandersol’s hotel and pick Emily up for the bridal boutique. Emily offered to take a taxi—it was no problem—but Claire and Tony insisted. It was settled. Claire would be at the Hyatt Regency at 9:00 AM to pick her up. Their appointment was for 10:00 AM. Tony then asked if he and Claire could join them for dinner Friday night since they planned to go back to Iowa Saturday morning. Claire now understood why Tony was so vague about their travel plans. John and Emily agreed. Before they left, Emily hugged Claire like she didn’t want to let go. “I’ve missed you so much. We’re all we have left. Let’s not stay out of touch again.” Her green eyes shone with sincerity. Claire’s began to tear. She wanted to say so much, but knew she was supposed to be elusive. Before she could speak, Tony injected, “Emily, we have a wedding in three weeks. I bet you’ll be tired of hearing from Claire after that!” He laughed. They all laughed. Tony offered John and Emily, Eric for the ride back to their hotel, and John politely declined. After Jan retrieved their coats, John and Emily left. When the door shut, Claire turned to Tony. “Thank you! Thank you so much. This was absolutely the best Thanksgiving ever. I can’t believe you surprised me like this.” He smiled, but she saw the message in his eyes. “Your sister is extremely inquisitive.” Claire agreed, “I know, my head hurts from working so diligently on appropriate answers.” Kissing her cheek, Tony suggested, “My dear, you should take an aspirin and retire to our room. I’ll be up shortly. I have some pressing matters in my office that I must attend.” “I will,” she replied obediently, however, first, Claire went to the kitchen to thank Jan for her hard work. She told her that she really appreciated all Jan did to make their Thanksgiving special. Jan seemed genuinely touched and surprised by Claire’s appreciation. While walking up the stairs, Claire thought about the estate and the top-notch surveillance. Her stomach twisted as she wondered if Tony’s pressing work was to review video footage of her conversation with Emily in the dining room. Claire told herself if it was—it would be all right—she’d followed all his rules. A sister shares childhood memories and grown-up dreams. —Author unknown Chapter Twenty-Six ‡ Friday morning, Tony left the apartment early, so Eric could drive Claire and Emily to the boutique. On her way to Emily’s hotel, Claire contemplated her fiancé. By the time he came to bed the night before, she was sleeping. She faintly remembered him kissing her and turning out the lights. Maybe he hadn’t been reviewing surveillance. Maybe he was doing actual work—on Thanksgiving night? No matter, she was relieved that when he came to bed, he wasn’t upset. This morning, before leaving, he hugged her tight and told her to have fun with her sister choosing her wedding gown. Claire wanted to believe her life was as it appeared. Traffic to the hotel was crazy. Until Claire saw the multitude of people, she’d forgotten all about Black Friday. The department stores were inundated with hoards of shoppers. Seeing the mayhem around her, made their destination of a private boutique all that more appealing. The associates at the boutique would be totally devoted to them. None of this mad rush she witnessed from the windows of the limousine. Smiling faintly, she fondly remembered Black Friday shopping with her mom and Emily when she was young. To save twenty-five, fifty, or a hundred-dollars, they would wake at three in the morning and stand in multiple lines. Although it sounded unpleasant—the memories were warm.
Consequences Consequences Page 61 Eric approached the Hyatt Regency a few minutes before 9:00 AM. Emily wasn’t waiting. “Miss, would you like me to go to the front desk and inquire of Mrs. Vandersol?” Claire thought a moment. “No, we’ll give her a few minutes, and then I’ll go in.” Emily hadn’t read the Anthony Rawlings’s rules of punctuality memo. Claire decided she deserved some slack. Five minutes after 9:00 AM, Emily emerged from the lobby. Eric quickly got out of the car and opened the door. Emily entered the limousine and hugged Claire. She looked around at the leather seats and splendor. “Seriously, this is how you get around New York City?” “Yes.” “And you don’t feel ostentatious? Perhaps you haven’t heard but our country is in the midst of an economic downturn.” Eric pulled away from the curb, and they entered the magnitude of cars. It wasn’t the stop-and-go traffic causing Claire’s neck muscles to tighten—more the sudden onset of defensiveness. “Emily, please don’t judge me or Tony. I want you to be part of our wedding. Let’s have fun looking for dresses.” Emily exhaled and sat back on the seat. “Claire, I want to. I really do.” Claire could tell there was a but coming— * Emily continued, “But, John and I sat up for hours discussing you and Anthony.” Sitting straighter, Claire asked, “What did the two of you decide?” “We decided we love you. We’re so happy Anthony invited us to get to see you, but there is one of our concerns.” Claire raised her eyebrows, Emily inquired, “Why did Anthony need to invite us? Why couldn’t you?” Claire’s head almost touched the ceiling, she sat so straight. Looking Emily directly in the eye, she replied, “Emily, that’s ridiculous. I could. I told you things have just been busy. With his schedule, we’re all over the place, as I’m sure you’ve read about in the media. I didn’t even know until last week Tony was needed in New York”—then to clarify, she added—“He didn’t know until last week. He has a lot on his plate.” “Uh…hmmm, please know we’re just concerned. It seems like you’re a different person.” The conversation paused and Emily continued, “That isn’t necessarily bad, but it makes us uncomfortable.” Claire was still Emily’s little sister; however, she was now polished and refined. The stylish, elegant, and worldly woman commuting in limousines didn’t seem like the woman of months before. Emily continued to explain her concern, “I’ve tried to learn about Anthony Rawlings. Everything I found about him on Google is business related. He has an impressive reputation as a businessman, but I can’t find anything about him personally.” “Emily, he’s an impressive private man, too. I must emphasize private. He asked me to join him in his private—personal life. I want you and John there. You must respect the importance of his confidentiality.” They sat in standstill traffic. “Okay, we can do that. We still worry about you. Don’t you get to have a life too?” * Claire felt her blood pressure rise. She needed to defend the life she’d despised for months. It was time to utilize the compartmentalization—bring out the good stuff. “Just because I haven’t contacted you, doesn’t mean I don’t have a life. I do. I have a very full and rewarding life. I live in a beautiful home. We attend a number of events and functions. I’ve met wonderful friends in the Quad Cities area.” She surveyed Emily’s reaction. “I’m not doing meteorology—currently—but I’m working with Tony. As I said, he’s a very busy man, with a busy schedule.” She didn’t need to offer more explanation. The car moved again. Emily stared incredulously, “Are you living with Anthony? How long have you been living with him?” Claire exhaled; as much as it killed her, she knew she couldn’t spend her day like this. It was too much work, and although it was early, her head pounded. “Okay, Emily. I’m sorry this didn’t work.” Claire pushed the button and opened the window to the front of the car. “Eric, we have a change of plans. You may drop me off at the boutique, but Mrs. Vandersol will be going back to the Hyatt.” Emily stared at Claire in disbelief. Eric answered, “Yes, miss.” Claire shut the window, sat back against the seat, and didn’t speak or look at Emily. She should be sad, but truly she was mad. Claire realized she’d behaved like Tony. Perhaps she was being too cautious about his rules, but she knew too well—behaviors had consequences. Given the choice, she’d choose to err on the side of Tony. “Claire, I’m sorry. You’re obviously a strong independent woman. I think of you as—my kid sister—someone who needs us to look out for her. Anthony Rawlings is lucky to have you in his life. I still don’t understand how it all happened, and I don’t care how wonderful he is. He’s the fortunate one in this relationship. I love you and want to be a part of your wedding. If this is what you want, we’ll support you 100 percent.” Claire was too emotional to be completely like Tony. Overwhelmed with a sense of relief, she reached over, hugged Emily, and smiled. “Good! Let’s put this behind us and have fun looking at dresses!” Pushing the button again, she said, “Eric, we’re both going to the bridal boutique.” She closed the window. “One more thing though.” Concern showed in Emily’s green eyes. Claire exhaled; she didn’t want to hear one more thing. “John is planning to speak to you tonight about your prenuptial agreement.” “What? I don’t know anything about that—he should talk to Tony”—Claire thought about that scenario—“On second thought—no—tell him not to worry about it. I totally trust Tony, and I honestly could care less about his money. It’s really not an issue; just tell John to forget it.” Emily said, “I will, but I can’t make any promises. John’s an attorney and he thinks of you as his kid sister. He only wants what’s best for you.” The entrance to the boutique was a grand ten foot high door surrounded by limestone. Above the door was a street number, but no visible store name. There were no gowns in the window or advertisements evident. It was a completely different experience from when they’d shopped for Emily’s dress. Claire knew from past boutique shopping to enter the boutique you needed to ring the bell; however, Eric had called ahead and as he parked the car at the curb and opened the door for Claire and Emily, the door of the boutique opened. A woman in her fifties or sixties dressed in posh business attire rushed out to welcome Ms. Nichols to their modest boutique. She introduced herself, Sharon Springhill. As she ushered the women into the shop, she gushed, “Ms. Nichols, we’re so happy to receive Mr. Rawlings’s call, yesterday. Since that moment we have worked diligently to create a collection especially for you. We truly hope that you, the future Mrs. Anthony Rawlings, will find the dress of your dreams today.” Claire did her best to play the person she’d become. Looking at Emily and sensing her sister’s uneasiness, Claire decided this was an opportunity to educate her. “Ms. Springhill, I’m very excited to be here today. Mr. Rawlings told me the wonderful reputation of your boutique. I appreciate you taking the time to personally assist me on this holiday weekend.”
Consequences Consequences Page 62 Ms. Springhill thanked Claire for the kind words. (Emily witnessed Claire’s ease with the situation.) “Now, Ms. Springhill, this is my sister, Mrs. Vandersol. She will be my matron-of-honor. Perhaps Mr. Rawlings informed you that our wedding will be on December 18. I’m hopeful you’ll not only be able to assist me with my dress, but also one for my sister.” (Emily would experience the treatment Claire endured.) Emily was immediately met with her own entourage of associates. Claire smiled at her sister as their eyes met and Emily shook her head. Mrs. Springfield offered the women coffee, water, tea, and champagne. Next, they were escorted to seats in front of an open area that reminded Claire of a dance floor in a hotel reception hall. Ms. Springhill explained that she put together a collection especially for Mrs. Rawlings. It included many of the top wedding gown designers: Vera Wang, Oscar de la Renta, Manuel Mota, Monique Lhuiller, Maggie Sultero, Winnie Couture, and Mieko, as well as others. “Please sit back and relax while models display the most extravagant and stunning wedding gowns you’ve ever seen. Feel free to make any requests. If you choose, you may see any gowns again, and please touch the magnificent fabrics”—her enthusiasm flowed through her words—“Ms. Nichols, once you narrow the selection, you may try on those gowns. We’ll then take your measurements so that the gown of your dreams will be tailored specifically for you. Also, if you desire a certain gown but would like something changed, the designer can be contacted and every effort will be made to accommodate your desire.” Mrs. Springhill continued, “After the wedding gowns—we’ll gladly repeat the process for Mrs. Vandersol. Is there anything we can get you to make you ladies more comfortable?” “No, Mrs. Springhill; we’re very excited to see the gowns.” The decision proved incredibly difficult. Most of the gowns were exquisite. Actually, some were a little strange, Claire and Emily exchanged glances; however, most were elegant. There were glamorous gowns with bold contrasts in volume, rich fabrics such as lace, organza, or heron, and the finest accessories. Some were covered with drapes bound with precious-stone details, natural folds, pleats, ruffles, or tulle. There were fashionable gowns with very thin and light materials in fluid, sheer, and mermaid-cut styles. These were made with soft fabrics like chiffon, pleated chiffon, or morbid tulle. They accentuated curves, had impeccable details such as asymmetrical necklines, floral appliqué, feathers, or rich gemstone embroideries. The Oscar de la Renta and Monique Lhuiller gowns were created in an attempt to recreate a world of dreams and pure fantasy. These wedding dresses had flattering strapless necklines, meticulously enhancing the waist, and skirts with spectacular volume. They included stunning A-line and mermaid styles, lined with thousands of feathers, cascading ruffles, and magical applications. Claire thought they would make Cinderella or Belle proud. The sisters watched models for two hours, and Claire felt overwhelmed. She created a short list of over ten dresses. Ms. Springhill suggested Ms. Nichols and Mrs. Vandersol enjoy a light lunch while they view the ten dresses again. While dining on chicken salad on a bed of lettuce with a side of fruit and iced tea, Claire narrowed the race to four gowns which varied significantly in style and were created by top designers. Before Claire would try on the four dresses, they needed to see the matron-of-honor dresses. The dresses they viewed were mostly black or silver, but Ms. Springhill promised any color that Claire desired. Claire smiled and turned to Emily. “That’s wonderful! We’ll be able to get pink!” Ms. Springhill didn’t know she was teasing. The two sisters snickered. They narrowed it to a satin Oscar de la Renta gown with a tighter skirt, a Valentino gown with a lace overlay, and a Monique Lhuiller gown that would be perfect with Claire’s second choice. They realized Claire must choose her wedding gown first and then the matron-of-honor’s dress would be chosen to complement. At 2:30 PM they began trying on gowns. When Claire looked at her watch, she had a sickening feeling the process was taking too long. She worried Tony would wonder where they were, or perhaps think they went somewhere else. Hoping to avoid suspicion, Claire decided to check in with Eric and let him know it would be a while before they needed to be picked up. She used the shop’s telephone to call. Emily offered her phone, since Claire left hers at the apartment, but Claire decided the shop’s phone would be better. The boutique’s number would appear on Eric’s caller ID. She worried if she called Eric on Emily’s phone her location maybe questioned, and if she used Emily’s phone, Tony might assume she used it for other calls. It bothered her that every move needed to be scrutinized for possible misinterpretations. She told herself perhaps they didn’t, but better safe than sorry. “Hello, Eric, this is Claire.” “Yes, Ms. Claire, are you ready to be picked up?” “No, that’s why I’m calling. This has been a very difficult process. I assume we’ll be here another hour or perhaps two. I’ll call you when we’re done.” “Yes, Ms. Claire, I will be there when you’re ready.” Emily could overhear her every word. Claire wanted to ask Eric to call Tony, to let him know they were still at the boutique; however, she worried it might raise Emily’s suspicions. So, instead, she said, “Thank you, Eric.” Claire found herself in an uncomfortable situation regarding the measuring for her gown. She had so many things to think about—the lack of undergarments slipped her mind. Claire asked Ms. Springhill what undergarments were usually worn with these dresses and told her she would like to purchase some now so the dress would fit as close as possible to how it would on her wedding day. Apparently, this wasn’t an unusual request. Ms. Springhill brought her a strapless body-shaper. Once that was on, Claire allowed the attendants to take her measurements. The entire conversation went unnoticed by Emily. She was occupied with attendants measuring and catering to her every need. Claire tried on each gown, entered a large mirrored room, and stood on a platform. She could see herself from all directions. More than anything Claire wanted Tony’s opinion. He once said Catherine knew what he liked. Claire wished Catherine was there now, but she wasn’t. Instead, Claire had Emily, who repeatedly told her how beautiful she looked in each dress—which wasn’t helping. Claire told herself repeatedly, My wedding will happen in three weeks—I need to make a decision. The service and choices were fantastic. Spending time with her sister was wonderful. The stress; however, caused her head to ache. Claire narrowed the list to two—the chiffon Oscar de la Renta gown—and the Vera Wang gown. Perhaps it was the issue of a December wedding in the Midwest; however the Vera Wang gown had a beautiful lace overlay that provide long lace sleeves as well as a long delicate train. Sleeves for a winter wedding in Iowa appealed to Claire. Ms. Springfield knew Claire’s measurements and promised she could produce either gown in time. Nevertheless, with such an accelerated timetable, she ever so politely, emphasized the importance of a quick decision and informed Claire that she’d need to return for additional fittings. Claire replied that would be fine, but secretly wondered if Tony had anticipated that. Next, they concentrated on Emily’s dress. Claire decided she really liked the Valentino dress with the lace overlay. It would complement either bridal gown. The next hurdle was color. There was a sudden realization that color had multiple implications—the decorations—the flowers—and the invitations usually all contained the same color scheme. Claire took color swatches and promised Ms. Springhill the color decision by Monday. Claire felt the impending tears—she had so many things to consider.
Consequences Consequences Page 63 At almost 4:00 PM, Eric arrived to retrieve them from the boutique. Claire was exhausted and overwhelmed. She hadn’t spent that much time out and away from home since her accident. Her head pounded violently to the point of nausea and she wanted a nap. True to her new persona, Claire didn’t show Emily or anyone the way she felt. Emily tried to pretend she didn’t notice, as Claire tipped the staff at the boutique. After models, the tailor’s assistants, and of course Ms. Springfield, the total was over a thousand dollars. This didn’t include the cost of a dress. Once in the car Emily genuinely expressed her elation at their shopping experience. “Claire, that was amazing! I’ve never been treated like that before.” Emily seized Claire’s hand. “Can you imagine if some of those girls from high school could see you now?” Claire feigned a smile. Things like that no longer seemed important. “It really isn’t that big of deal.” “Oh, my God, Claire, you just tipped half my house payment!” “Really, Emily, please, it isn’t that important.” Emily’s reaction made her uncomfortable. “You know, Claire, the only people who say money isn’t important are people who have it.” She then asked Claire about her dress, “I want to wear the dress you like, but I’ll be honest, with flying to Iowa, staying there for I don’t know how long, and other expenses, I don’t know if we can afford a dress from there. I noticed there were no price tags. That’s never a good sign.” The pounding in Claire’s head demanded her attention; she wasn’t thinking as she answered. Looking into the car’s refrigerator for something to drink and eat, Claire casually replied, “Emily, I don’t want you to worry about it. Tony will pay for the dresses. I can talk to him about flying you to Iowa and a place to stay too.” She didn’t mean to, but she’d offended Emily. “Thank you, Claire, but my husband and I can afford to pay for ourselves.” “Oh, please, Emily, I’m not trying to upset you. I know you can, but we’re springing this on you without warning. You can do whatever you want regarding the flight and stay, but please let Tony take care of the dress. He said he wants me to have my dream wedding—so please let him take care of the dress”—then she added with her smiling mask secured—“And, as I remember, you and John paid for my beautiful green dress some years ago.” Emily grinned. “You’re right, we did. Of course, it was about a hundred and fifty dollars. You tipped almost ten times that today”—she exhaled—“I’m just not used to this new Claire—Give me a little time.” Claire handed Emily a bottle of water and offered her some blueberries as she silently prayed, Please, let some food and water help my head. The water tasted cool and refreshing. Her mind drifted to coffee. She fantasized about the amazing fragrance and knew immediately it would make her feel better. She decided she would ask Jan for some coffee when she got back to the apartment. The traffic flowed much better than it had early in the morning. Before they reached the Hyatt, Emily received a call from John. He asked Emily when she’d be back. She told him they were close, and it had been a long day. John reminded her they were supposed to have dinner with Claire and Anthony, and asked if she knew any of the details? Emily said she didn’t, but Claire promised to call them as soon as she got back to the apartment. Emily gave Claire her cell number as she got out of the limousine and told Claire it was a great day, and she looked forward to their dinner tonight. They hugged and Emily went into the hotel. As Eric pulled away, Claire laid her head against the seat and tears leaked from her eyes as they closed. Her head throbbed and she felt utterly spent. Somewhere between the Hyatt and Tony’s apartment building Claire fell into a sound sleep. “Ms. Claire, we have reached Mr. Rawlings’ apartment.” She heard Eric’s voice. Claire opened her eyes but was immediately disoriented. Trying to familiarize herself with her surroundings, she soon realized she was in the limousine, outside Tony’s apartment building. The cool November air from the open door helped Claire focus. She entered the building and went up to the seventy-sixth floor. As the elevator opened, Claire’s face suddenly flushed and her heart rate increased. Standing at the open door to his apartment was Tony. I think I’ve discovered the secret of life—you just hang around until you get used to it. —Charles M. Shulz Chapter Twenty-Seven ‡ Seeing your fiancé across the room should make your heart race. Seeing her fiancé standing in the doorway did that to Claire; however, instead of accelerated by love though—she presumed it was anxiety. Upon entering the building, her watch read 5:30 PM. Her thoughts churned slowly through her aching head. Obviously, he finished his work. She wanted to get home first—she had Eric. How did he get home? “Good evening, Claire.” His expression indifferent, she couldn’t read him. Her mask was secure. The nap had helped her headache, no longer did it pound—now it only gently ached. “Good evening, Tony.” She reached up to kiss him and he bent down to accommodate her. “You look beat. Did you find a gown?” He led her into the apartment. Claire exhaled and tried to explain the complexity of the day. The boutique was wonderful—too wonderful—with a selection that was too large. He helped her with her coat, gave it to Jan, and escorted her up the stairs to the bedroom. Halfway up the stairs, Claire remembered coffee. “Oh, just a minute”—she said to Tony. Then she called down the stairs—“Jan?” Claire stopped and went back down the stairs. Again she called, “Jan?” The housekeeper returned to the foyer. “Yes, Ms. Claire?” “I need something from my coat pocket, please.” Still holding her coat, Jan handed it back. Claire removed a small piece of paper from one of the pockets. “Thank you, could you please bring coffee upstairs?” Jan replied affirmatively and disappeared with Claire’s coat. Claire proceeded up the stairs to Tony where he waited patiently—silently watching her. She handed him the piece of paper. He took it, unfolded it, and asked, “What’s this?” “It’s Emily’s cell number. She gave it to me so I could call her with details of tonight’s plans.” Tony’s expression didn’t change as he wadded the paper, put it in the pocket of his slacks, and continued to escort Claire up the stairs. She wasn’t sure what his actions meant; however, his lack of response probably meant the end of that conversation. “I’m sorry I’m so late. I had no idea this would be such a long day.” Tony said that it was all worth it if she found her wedding gown. She told him she had it narrowed to two. The boutique had her measurements, and all they needed was a call to let them know her decision; however, Ms. Springhill emphasized she must do it soon. Claire told Tony she would appreciate his opinion. He told her he trusted her judgment. She sat on the edge of the bed, exhaled, and lay back. The coolness of the room combined with the firmness of the bed helped Claire relax. She closed her eyes and hoped the coffee would help her head. “Eric told me you fell asleep after Emily left the car.” He sat next to her on the bed, stroking her hair.
Consequences Consequences Page 64 Claire breathed a sigh of relief—he didn’t seem upset. The tension in her head began to subside. “I’m sorry if that was wrong, but my head hurt so badly, I could hardly focus on Emily.” “Of course, it’s fine. You’re alone and exhausted. I told you, I don’t want you overdoing. You aren’t 100 percent yet”—he kissed her head—“I spoke to your brother-in-law and moved our reservations back to 8:00 PM. Maybe you should continue your nap for a little while. We don’t need to leave until 7:30 PM.” Claire thought about it. Dinner wasn’t for another two hours, but she decided a shower would be more beneficial; she’d already had a nap. They talked as Jan knocked on their door and entered with a coffee carafe, cream, and two mugs. She sat them on a table near the windows and inquired if they needed anything else. Learning they didn’t, Jan left. The open drapes exposed a spectacular view filled with darkness, even though it wasn’t even 6:00 PM. The New York City lights glittered below, evidence of inhabitants racing from place to place. Claire held her mug of coffee, inhaled the rich aroma, and fell silent, mesmerized by the sight. This time of year, with shorter dreary days, had always been a difficult time for her. She loved sunshine; it made her joyful. This year she’d missed most of the autumn sun and now the bleakness of winter was rapidly descending. To her, dark was contrary to light. Therefore, instead of joy, it brought sorrow. That’s why she liked Atlanta. Standing at the window, looking at a magnificent skyline, and sipping her warm mug of coffee, Claire thought about being sad. Immediately, she began to chastise herself. She should be happy about her wedding and her reunion with Emily; however, what she really wanted was to be back in Iowa. She didn’t want the pressure of choosing a dress and dealing with Emily’s constant questions. She no longer yearned for the warmth of Atlanta, but she longed for the warmth of her fireplace and lack of pretense. In the reflection of the tall window, Claire saw Tony approaching. He stood close behind her and put his arms around her waist; she rested her head against his sturdy chest. Tony’s voice sounded soft and affectionate, “What are you thinking about? You seem far away.” “I don’t want to say. You’ll think I’m ungrateful.” She put her mug down on the table and turned to face him. Tony lifted her eyes to his. “I appreciate honesty above all.” He wasn’t being authoritative—only candid. Looking into her tired eyes he lightly kissed her lips. “And let me decide what I think.” She continued to hold his gaze. The brown of his eyes that matched the color of her coffee—lightened by cream—gave her strength to be honest. “I want to go home.” His expression changed slightly. She knew he was contemplating her definition of home. “Tony, I want to go back to your home—I want to be back in Iowa.” He smiled and hugged her. “Why would that make you ungrateful?” “I loved your surprise—seeing Emily and John has been great, but, things have changed. Emily asks so many questions and seems so dismayed by my life—it feels as though we’re no longer connected. She said I’ve changed—I don’t know—I just know I’d rather be home.” Tony had released her chin and Claire’s face rested—buried in his chest. The thumping of his heart filled her with security. As she closed her eyes and listened to the steady beat, she couldn’t see his face or his satisfied smile. She continued, “If we could, I’d cancel our dinner plans for tonight.” He lifted her chin again and said, “You know that isn’t an option. We’ve made a commitment and we’ll honor it, but, I’m happy to know you want to be home with me—to our home. We’ll be there tomorrow.” Claire nodded her head and said that yes—she knew. After a few moments, she picked up her mug of coffee and went to the bathroom for a shower. Once there, she noticed the large garden tub. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t seen it before—it had been there all along—but it looked very inviting. Starting the warm water she decided to find out where they are going. When she opened the door to ask, Tony was sitting on the bed with his back to her. He had her purse open, the contents strewn on the bed, searching for something—perhaps something Claire had that she shouldn’t have had—maybe evidence of her being somewhere with Emily, instead of the bridal boutique. There was nothing—she’d followed his rules. Claire considered saying something—confronting him about privacy—instead she quietly closed the door and thanked God she’d given him the paper with the telephone number. Eric pulled up to the restaurant on the Upper East Side at approximately 7:45 PM. Claire was very pleased with Tony’s plans for the evening. First, the quaint, casual seafood restaurant was away from the hustle and bustle of the busy streets, and second, it wasn’t as elegant as their normal dining establishments. Claire also approved of Tony’s choice of attire, they both wore jeans. When they left the bedroom, Claire told Tony again how much she liked him in jeans. He reminded her how much he liked her out of them. Their eyes sparkled. Although their reservation had been moved to 8:00 PM, and although the Hyatt wasn’t far, Emily and John weren’t there yet. Since their table wasn’t ready, Tony and Claire went to the bar to wait. Tony directed Claire to one unoccupied stool at the end of the bar. She sat while he stood beside her, ordered himself a designer beer and Claire a glass of Zinfandel. Sitting at the bar reminded Claire of the Red Wing. Compartmentalize. Truly, she felt much better than she had earlier; perhaps it was the nap, the bath, the coffee, Tony’s understanding—regarding her long day, or just some time to relax away from questions. Whatever the cause, her spirit felt revived and ready for the evening. They chatted about the different bottles of liquor lining the bar. While Claire recalled some of her bartending knowledge, she talked about most of the liquors from the first-person. She commented on drinks she liked, ones she didn’t, and why. Tony seemed amused that she’d tried so many. After all, he said, “You’ve only been legally drinking for six years.” Claire smiled and repeated the word legally. They were chatting and laughing when John and Emily approached. Proceeding with the customary round of hellos and handshakes, Emily and John ordered drinks, stood conversing about nothing in particular, and before long their table was ready. John, Emily, and Claire went to the table while Tony stayed back to pay the bar tab. Once the hostess took them to their table, Claire excused herself to go to the ladies’ room. As she exited the bathroom—which was located down a narrow hall—she was surprised to find John waiting for her. “Well, hi—did you think I was lost?” Claire started to pass him, thinking they were going back to the table, when John reached for her arm and stopped her. “Claire, I really need to talk to you without Anthony present.” Her stomach twisted. “No, John, you don’t.” He spoke soft and fast. “Yes, I do. Tell me you haven’t yet signed a prenuptial agreement.” “I haven’t.” “Good, I want to review it first. Emily said you don’t think it’s necessary, and I should drop it, but I’m your brother. I’ve known you since you were a little girl. Let someone who has your best interests at heart make sure you’re represented.”
Consequences Consequences Page 65 “Thank you, John. I believe Tony has my best interests at heart. I don’t care about his money, I trust him, and I—” Claire saw the change in John’s expression. Oh God! She knew by the increased twisting in her stomach Tony was behind her. When she turned, she looked directly at his chest—he was right behind her. Continuing Claire’s sentence, Tony said, “And I believe this conversation would be better held in a private setting.” His voice exuded displeasure; however, they were standing in the hallway of a public restaurant. Claire knew that in this setting he wouldn’t be loud, rude, or aggressive. She looked up to see his face and watched the brown disappear behind the expanding blackness. “Tony—” Claire started to speak—saw his warning expression—and immediately stopped. Tony continued, “Shall we all go to our table? I believe our waitress would like to introduce herself. John, you and Emily are welcome to join us in our car. We’ll be glad to drive you back to your hotel following dinner. At that time, if you choose, you may continue your legal counsel.” Claire prayed he would not choose to continue. She knew from experience, there were some things not worth pursuing. John looked from Tony—to Claire—and back to Tony. Sounding strong and defiant, he replied, “That would be fine, Anthony. I appreciate the offer. We’ll be glad to join you.” He then lightened his tone. “Emily told me you have a very nice car.” They all walked toward the table. “Thank you, it isn’t mine. I lease cars in the city. Too many accidents with all the traffic…” And the conversation continued benignly to the table and throughout dinner. Claire knew Tony, and she knew he was angry. To the casual onlooker, he appeared fine. He excelled at the art of maintaining appearances. He chatted, listened, laughed, and watched. Every now and then, his and Claire’s eyes would connect. She wanted to tell him she was sorry—she hadn’t asked for the counsel—but of course, she maintained her mask and didn’t approach the subject. Emily didn’t know about the hallway conversation and innocently conversed. By the end of dinner Emily and Claire decided Claire would wear the Vera Wang dress. She liked the lace sleeves, and they agreed it would be best for a winter wedding. They also decided on the dress for Emily. Tony had printed off all the contact information for the boutique, and Claire gave it to Emily. She explained that unfortunately Emily would need to return to the city one or two more times for fittings. Emily said it would be all right. John asked what time in the morning their flight was back to Iowa. Claire looked at Tony. She didn’t want to say, “Oh, we can go anytime. It’s Tony’s jet.” He answered, “We plan to leave early. This wedding is coming together very fast. Our wedding planner will be at the house tomorrow at 2:00 PM. Luckily, we gain an hour on our way back.” Claire sighed—he was good. She also decided he either genuinely started to relax or he could fool her too; regardless, he appeared very accommodating. After their appetizers, salads, and main entrée, they all had coffee. Surprisingly, after the uncomfortable hallway confrontation, the dinner went well. Earlier, back at the apartment, Claire had shared Emily’s comments regarding the cost of the wedding with Tony. He hadn’t said much other than to acknowledge her concerns, but apparently he’d developed a plan. “John and Emily, I want to thank you for joining us this Thanksgiving. It means so much to Claire. She’s told me about the loss of your family—the two of you are important to her”—Claire listened intently, as did the two of them—“I can be impulsive. I must admit after so many years of bachelorhood, I’m delighted to have met the one woman I want to spend my life beside”—he looked at Claire and smiled. She smiled in return—“That’s why Claire agreed to such a fast wedding. That can be difficult on those people closest to us. You may have had plans for that weekend, and I doubt you were planning a trip to Iowa”—he had everyone’s attention—“Therefore, I would be honored if you’d allow me to take care of your travel plans to and from Iowa. I’m speaking for Claire, but I believe she’d like you to be there a few days before the ceremony. Our home isn’t near hotels. Please know you’re invited to stay with us. We have room.” He sounded gallant and magnanimous. Claire reached for his hand under the table and squeezed. He squeezed back and held her hand. She didn’t know how John would respond, but she was exceedingly pleased with her fiancé. Tony added, “And while I have your attention, I want to give Claire her dream wedding. Please allow me to take care of any wedding apparel and accessories.” At first, Emily and John said nothing. Claire knew it was killing John. He was a successful attorney, but they had education loans they were still paying. They had a mortgage, car loans, probably credit cards. Tony had more money than he could spend in a lifetime. She prayed they would accept. Finally, John spoke, “Anthony, thank you very much. It’s difficult for me to accept your generosity.” Tony had one more ploy. “John, haven’t I heard stories about Claire living with the two of you for a year after college?” John said, “Yes.” “Perhaps you could justify this as an overdue rent payment?” Tony smiled. Claire wanted to cry; instead, she beamed at John and Emily. They had to see how wonderful Tony could be. John and Emily exchanged glances. Finally, it was Emily who accepted. “Thank you. You have our numbers. Please let us know the details.” The conversation was done. As they all stood to leave, Claire thought about the bill; apparently, it was taken care of without anyone realizing—one less confrontation. Since Tony had contacted Eric, he had the car waiting outside. Claire hoped the polite attitude of the dinner would continue into the car. The women got in first, followed by John, who sat by Emily, and Tony, who sat by Claire. As soon as Eric pulled away from the curb John began speaking. His voice was strong and direct, as if he were addressing a jury or judge, “Anthony, I apologize for ambushing Claire in the hallway, and Claire, I apologize for making you uncomfortable”—Emily completely unaware, looked at John with horror in her eyes. Claire exhaled and sat back, thinking only, oh God, he is going to pursue this. She deferred to Tony—“But I’ve known Claire since she was a small girl. I’ve done my best to look out for Emily and Claire, especially since the death of their parents. I love her like a sister”—he smiled at Claire, then looked back to Tony with all seriousness—“I’m an attorney, and I believe Claire deserves rightful representation regarding the legal ramifications of your marriage.” Claire remained silent. Tony spoke, “John, I definitely appreciate the fact that Claire has someone else who cares about her well-being. I must emphasize—she will be my wife and I will look out for her. I can assure you, we have an entire team of attorneys who will represent her in any necessary legal circumstance.” John continued undeterred, “With all due respect, your legal team will look out for your best interests—as they should. Claire is obviously in love with you and trusts your decisions.” “Are you implying you do not trust my decisions?”
Consequences Consequences Page 66 “No, I’m not implying. I’m saying as Claire’s brother-in-law and attorney I should review the prenuptial agreement prior to her signature.” Claire didn’t feel good about this discussion—maybe she could help. “Thank you, John, for your concern. I do trust Tony—” She immediately knew she shouldn’t have spoken. Tony continued, “Your concern is admirable, and your persistence is commendable. As Claire’s attorney—not her brother-in-law—I’ll inform you that we do not plan on having a prenuptial agreement. I want Claire to have half of everything. I don’t plan on divorcing her, leaving her, or her leaving me. I believe she should be my partner in every way with everything. As of December 18 she will have half of everything I possess.” John sat in silence and stared at Tony. He obviously hadn’t expected that information. Finally, he spoke, “Have you consulted your team of legal counsel?” “Excuse me? Are you asking as Claire’s attorney?” “No, I’m asking as your future brother-in-law. I know Claire. I know she’s a wonderful woman who’s in love, but as an attorney, a man of your wealth should not enter a business deal without a contract, and you should not enter a marriage without a prenuptial agreement.” Tony smiled, amused. Claire knew—amusement did not necessarily imply a good thing. Maybe it was all a figment of her imagination—perhaps she would wake and this would all have been a nightmare. Emily sat in awe, dumbfounded by the verbal debate transpiring before her. Tony decided the conversation was over. “John, thank you for your advice—thank you for your legal consultation. Your care and concern for Claire is duly noted and welcomed. I look forward to more lively debates with you in the future. May I make one suggestion?” John said yes; however, his answer was inconsequential. The statement formed as a question was purely rhetorical. Tony would offer his suggestion either way. “These conversations should and will take place in private.” John agreed. They sat in silence for a while. Finally, Emily broke the uneasy stillness. “Claire, it’s been so nice to see you. I’m going to miss you.” She reached out for Claire’s hand and squeezed. “I can’t wait until we’re together again for the wedding”—she turned to Tony—“If we’re still welcome?” He smiled. Claire didn’t need to see, to know his eyes didn’t. “Of course, we look forward to your visit.” Once the Eric reached their hotel, he opened the door and Tony got out. Emily and John both hugged Claire on their way out and Emily whispered, “Please call more.” Claire feigned a smile and nodded. She wasn’t sure she could speak without emotion. Both John and Emily shook Tony’s hand as they went into the hotel. After Tony got back in the car and Eric shut the door, Tony laid his head back on the seat. Claire knew she should remain quiet; however, she wanted to tell him how pleased she was with all he’d said—she did trust his decisions—and she didn’t care about the money. Nevertheless, one glance toward her fiancé reaffirmed her silence. Tony was obviously not happy. As the car pulled away, Tony squeezed Claire’s hand and spoke, his tone was neither warm nor playful, “I believe it’s good you took a nap this afternoon.” Eric drove them to the apartment. Prolonged endurance tames the bold. —Lord Byron Chapter Twenty-Eight ‡ During the eight months Claire had lived on Tony’s estate, she never saw visitors—business or personal. The house remained busy with staff and employees—people who clean, cook, and fulfill other responsibilities filled the house. The grounds often bustled with gardeners and maintenance workers, but there were never guests. That was why, as they approached the house, winding up the drive, it seemed strange to see multiple cars parked on the brickyard in front of the main steps. On the plane and again in the car, Claire received the rules speech. It seemed incredibly redundant. She’d heard it hundreds of times—literally. She knew the words by heart—follow my rules—do as you’re told—do not divulge personal information—actions have consequences—appearances are of vital importance—and public failure is not an option. Apparently, being Tony’s fiancée didn’t exempt her from the rules—it made them all that more critical. Shelly, Tony’s publicist, released the prepared statement to the press. It simply read: Anthony Rawlings, entrepreneur and world-renowned businessman happily announces his engagement to Claire Nichols, originally from Indiana. The two plan a December wedding. Details are not available at this time. The press release made the engagement public—Claire now directly represented him. Changing her mind at this point would be unacceptable and a public failure. She didn’t plan on changing her mind; however, if she needed a reason for changing her mind—last night would have been it. Apparently, Tony’s newfound gentleness and affection evaporated during his discussion with John. Claire told herself that it was a momentary setback. The discussion upset Tony—John’s behavior had consequences. Claire willingly accepted her brother-in-law’s consequences—in his stead. She knew how to compartmentalize, and even believed she was getting good at it. From experience, she believed with the morning, the new caring Tony would return. She was mostly right. When they entered their home, Catherine met them at the door. Her smile beamed from ear to ear, and she hugged them both. Claire truly loved her. She was the heart of their home. Tony obviously respected her opinion, and she his. Catherine’s approval pleased Claire. It was probably the one that mattered to her the most, other than Tony’s. “Ms. Claire, I’m so happy. I’ve known for a long time that you’re exactly what Mr. Rawlings needed in his life.” She beamed at Claire as Tony listened. “Umm, am I what anyone needs?” His tone and face smiled. Catherine hugged him and told him that many people need him. Then she informed him he had guests in his office. Claire suddenly thought about her restrictions regarding his office. Why could others be in there without him, but she couldn’t? Walking toward his home office, she debated. The answer was painfully obvious. Everyone else in the world had access to telephones, computers, and the Internet—except her. The double doors to Tony’s office stood ajar and his conference table was cluttered with books resembling photo albums and an open laptop computer. Two women and a man were arranging the materials and speaking to one another. Claire and Tony stood silently hand in hand in the doorway and observed. Finally, one of the women looked up and acknowledged Tony. “Mr. Rawlings, hello. Let me introduce you to your wedding planner and consultant.” Tony stepped toward the attractive, tall, professional-looking brunette. She looked about the same age as Claire. As she stepped forward, Tony turned toward Claire. “Patricia, let me finally introduce you to my fiancée, Claire Nichols. Claire, this is my number one assistant—secretary—and right-hand man/woman, Patricia.” His introduction revealed his admiration for her abilities. They both extended their hands. Claire spoke first, “I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you. It’s very nice to finally meet you.”
Consequences Consequences Page 67 Patricia’s greeting sounded less gregarious. “Hello, Ms. Nichols, I’ve heard about you.” Claire definitely detected animosity, but chose to wait and let the chips fall. Patricia continued with the introductions. “Brad Clark and Monica Thompson, may I introduce Mr. Anthony Rawlings and his fiancée, Claire Nichols. Mr. Rawlings, Brad is your wedding consultant, and Monica is your wedding planner. They come highly recommended and have some wonderful ideas to share.” Claire and Tony shook their hands and told them how happy they were to meet them. Tony looked at his watch, 12:30 PM. They were due to arrive at 2:00 PM. In Tony’s book, they had made bonus points. Claire, on the other hand, had anticipated lunch. She was less pleased, but smiled and preceded with their meeting. Brad and Monica showed Tony and Claire to Tony’s conference table. Brad and Monica began by explaining how honored they were to be chosen to assist with their wedding. Then they presented a very informative Power Point presentation with endless available options. They also displayed photos of their previous work—examples of decorations, cakes, receptions, etc. They asked questions, both of Tony and of Claire. What did they want their wedding to say? How many guests did they anticipate? Where on the estate would the wedding and reception be held? What would be the time of the ceremony? What colors did they want? What type of food? What type of music? While the questions were tedious, Claire couldn’t help notice Patricia’s stares. She was excessively attentive to Tony. “Yes, Mr. Rawlings.” “I can get that for you, Mr. Rawlings.” “Let me take care of that, Mr. Rawlings.” For the first time since John’s consequences and the multiple rules discussions, Claire was happy to be the future Mrs. Anthony Rawlings. It even amused her that as an adult, the cattiness of another woman could readjust her attitude. Claire found herself holding Tony’s arm, looking at pictures of cakes, lights, tables, and flowers and saying all the right things. While he smiled affectionately and she radiated happiness, Patricia sat on the sidelines taking notes. Tony then asked Claire to show Brad and Monica around the main level of their home so they could brainstorm. Brad and Monica promised they would get back to them on Monday with possibilities for the ceremony and reception. As Claire walked them from room to room, she saw the mansion from a new perspective—through their eyes. She saw it as an exquisite home with magnificent architecture. It hadn’t been that to her—it had been a prison, but things had changed. Last night and again today, Tony referred to it as their home. Claire smiled at the thought this is my home. Tony and Claire promised to get a guest list together very soon. They, with the help of Brad and Monica, decided that being a Christmas wedding—red, green, and black would be the colors. The question still remained which of those colors would they chose for Emily’s dress. There would be Christmas lights, lots of lights, starting from the gates and going up the drive to the house. The house would be decorated very chic Christmas. The number of guests would determine the setup of the wedding and reception. The music during the wedding would be provided by a string quartet and a harpist. Brad and Monica promised to put together some demo CDs and Tony and Claire could choose the music. When they suggested that the reception could be on the grounds—perhaps in the backyard—Claire thought it sounded cold, but Brad promised a tent—decorated and heated. He even had pictures of previous tent receptions. With the decorations, tables, and people, it didn’t appear like a tent—only a reception hall. The next question was the cake. They must have looked at fifty different pictures of cakes. Regarding flavors, Tony said he liked traditional white. Claire went out on a limb and said she liked chocolate—she hoped for some taste testing. Monica smiled and explained they had many other options such as carrot, red velvet, caramel, chocolate raspberry, and more. Claire felt once again overwhelmed by too many choices. The next debate involved the menu for the reception. Since Claire had only chosen two of her own meals in the last eight months, she asked Tony if she could take a break and get something to eat. She didn’t feel well-possibly low blood sugar. He kissed her cheek and said she should rest; he’d take care of anything else. Patricia added, “I’ll be here to help.” “I’m sure you will.” Claire replied as she kissed Tony and went to the kitchen to find Catherine and some lunch. They were about done for today. Brad and Monica would return Monday late afternoon when Tony returned home from work. At that time, more definitive plans would be made and others finalized. It was fun talking possibilities without considering the financial ramifications. Tony was right—the wedding would be planned and accomplished by December 18. Money could make anything happen. Their kitchen was more industrial than cozy. Claire had never eaten in there before, but with people everywhere, it seemed like a safe, isolated location. Sitting at a small table near the windows, Claire looked out over the backyard and garages. She was there eating a sandwich when Tony found her. “What do you think about the plans?” His voice sounded light and brought her back to reality. She’d been letting her mind wander. It hadn’t been any place in particular—just a happy place. She was thinking about lights, Christmas trees, her wedding dress, Tony in a tuxedo, and a warm feeling. She remembered the warmth of her visions while she was ill, and her current thoughts were giving her that same feeling. It was a nice change to have reality be her warm place. Claire smiled as he approached. “I think they sound wonderful. I can’t believe they aren’t freaking out about the deadline.” “What did I tell you?” She smiled. “We don’t have enough time to discuss all the things you’ve told me.” “You seem happy”—grinning, he stole the other half of her sandwich—“I meant about what money could do to help our wedding proceed as you want.” He took a bite of the sandwich. “You said it would and it obviously does. I’m still slightly in shock.” Claire took a drink of water and caressed Tony’s arm. Looking into his brown eyes, she said, “It’s a good shock.” He took her water and started to kiss her neck. Claire asked, “Do you realize you have taken my sandwich and now my water?” Tony cooed, “I think maybe you have taken something of mine.” He was standing near her chair as she put her arms around his waist and looked up at his face. “I did? What did I take?” As he bent down to kiss her, she stood to meet him halfway. He softly kissed her lips and her neck as his hands became tangled in her hair. “I believe it was my heart.” Claire’s body forgot the demands of the previous night. Actually, it began to make demands of its own as he tugged her hair with his fingers, causing her face to look upward. For a brief moment she considered asking about Patricia; however, it was a fleeting thought. There was a more pressing issue at hand; still she enquired, “Is everyone still here?” as she pressed back. “Brad and Monica left, they’ll return Monday to give us more information. We can make more definite decisions then.” She kissed his neck as he spoke. A low growl resonated from his throat, and his voice took on a gravely quality, “And Patricia is collecting names for our guest list. She’s still in my office. I told her I needed to check on you to make sure you were feeling all right.” His chocolate eyes hid behind closed lids.
Consequences Consequences Page 68 Claire couldn’t resist. “I’m feeling very good, how do you think I’m feeling?” He murmured agreement as she spoke between kisses. “So explain” “why I can’t be in your office alone” “and she can?” He pulled her closer. “Because, I said so.” His hands caressed the soft skin under her sweater. “I hated that answer when it came from my parents, I don’t think I like it from you either.” She wasn’t arguing or complaining. On the contrary, she was agreeing with everything. “Okay, how about because you don’t need to worry your pretty little head about anything in there? The telephones, Internet, computers…all you need to worry about is me.” “Oh, and I do! I worry about you constantly.” She nuzzled his chin and listened to his heart pound rapidly in his wide chest. “So you don’t worry about Patricia’s pretty head?” His voice sounded far away. “Does she have a pretty head? I haven’t noticed.” He couldn’t have said anything that would have pleased Claire more at that moment. She suggested going to his room or her room, he mentioned the attributes of the kitchen floor, when Catherine made a loud coughing sound. “Excuse me, Mr. Rawlings, Ms. Claire. Mr. and Mrs. Simmons are here to see you both.” Claire looked at Tony with desperation. “What happened to never having visitors?” She smiled and tried to straighten her hair and sweater. Tony suddenly turned away from Catherine and looked out the back window, breathed deeply, and tried to adjust his appearance. Claire decided she should address Catherine, Tony was having difficulty speaking. “Thank you, Catherine. Can you please tell them, Mr. Rawlings and I’ll be there in a few minutes?” “Yes, miss, I’ll show them to the sitting room.” Claire went to Tony and whispered in his ear, “Sorry.” He turned to her—grinning—his voice adoring and playful, “You aren’t, yet—but give me some time.” There was a time when those words would have terrified her. Today wasn’t one of them—the wedding planning—being home—and the fanciful foreplay set a stage. The stage felt warm—like her visions. “I look forward to that promise.” She leaned against a counter and waited for him to contain himself. She tried, but couldn’t remember one time in the past eight months when he’d been in this predicament. Trying to contain her grin—she found it amusing. They walked hand in hand to the sitting room. When they reached the archway Brent and Courtney stood to greet them. Courtney ran to Claire and hugged her. Next to Catherine, it was the best response she received from anyone regarding their engagement. She really felt like she was being hugged by a friend. Claire couldn’t help feeling happy. It was a real happy—one that suddenly seemed to be recurring. She liked it. Courtney pulled Claire’s left hand to see her ring, and led her to one of the sofas. She wanted to hear all about New York, the proposal, and everything! Claire looked to Tony, but he and Brent were involved in a discussion which led them toward Tony’s office. Claire curled up on the sofa with her arms wrapped around her knees and chatted with her friend. It wasn’t uncomfortable or difficult. She didn’t feel threatened by Courtney’s questions or the pressured to feign her answers. She didn’t feel the need to minimize Tony’s extravagant proposal. She felt warm and accepted. Catherine brought them coffee, and Courtney listened as Claire told her about New York City—from shopping for the perfect outfit—to the cool crisp evening in Central Park, she retold the entire day. It all was so romantic! She wouldn’t repeat his proposal, but it was wonderful. She couldn’t believe he really proposed. Courtney could hardly contain her excitement. “We’ve been friends with Tony for a long time, and both Brent and I have noticed something different with Tony lately. The way he looks at you—we’ve never seen that look in his eyes before. It’s wonderful to see him in love.” The simplicity of chatting, giggling, and sharing, delighted Claire. Sometime during their conversation she thought she heard voices—loud voices coming from the direction of Tony’s office. Courtney heard them too. They shrugged and went on with their chat. Courtney told Claire she’d be willing to help her in any way. She would be glad to taste-test food or desserts, listen to music, tie bows for chairs, address invitations, whatever Claire needed. She was officially at her disposal. The men returned to the sitting room. Their disposition wasn’t as jovial as the ladies; however, they acted affable. Courtney finally asked, “Is everything all right?” Tony said it was and Brent agreed. The ladies were having too much fun to let the men change that. Courtney continued to ask about the wedding. Would it really be in three weeks? Did they like the coordinator and planner? When Tony wasn’t around she wanted the scoop on Claire’s dress. Then she told Tony about her offer to help Claire. She was so excited. They left about two hours after they arrived. Claire started to go upstairs to her suite when she remembered Patricia. Had she left? Tony said she had, when Brent arrived. Patricia took information home and would bring him a guest list to evaluate Monday at the office. “Can we please eat in my suite?” Claire asked. “It’s been a great day and I’m tired.” During dinner Tony told Claire he and Brent exchanged words during the afternoon. Brent was Tony’s head legal counsel as well as his best friend—Claire was surprised. “What happened?” Tony explained, “Brent borrowed a page from your brother-in-law’s advice book.” Claire sighed, “The prenuptial agreement again.” “Yes, Brent also insisted we have one.” “I don’t presume to know anything about your belongings, but if everyone thinks we should have one, let’s just do it.” She didn’t realize the conversation had become intense, but before she could blink he grasped her shoulders and lifted her from her chair. With his proximity too close, his harsh words came in warm breaths against her cheeks, “I am sick and tired of everyone telling me what to do. I’ve made my decision. That’s what I told Brent and what I’m telling you. There will not be a prenuptial agreement and do you know why?” Claire met his gaze. “Tony, please—you said you wouldn’t hurt me again.” He released her arms and she fell back to her chair. “And you promised to not give me cause.” She thought about his question, she hadn’t answered—not answering could be considered cause. “I don’t know why we shouldn’t have a prenuptial agreement—other than you don’t want one.” “That is part of it”—he paced—“The other part is…”—he knelt by Claire, his face once again too close to hers, his eyes shining black, and stared right at her. She didn’t look away, as he continued, slow and malevolent—“I know I won’t leave you, and I know you won’t leave me. Will you?” She was faced with one of those junctures—be frightened by his tone, proximity, and allow his sudden unpredicted change in disposition to ruin a day that she truly enjoyed—or attempt to defuse the situation before it got out of hand. She chose the second. She answered his question with a voice which sounded both calm and composed. “I agreed to be Mrs. Anthony Rawlings just three days ago. It has been a whirlwind since then, and my wedding is in three weeks. We’re both overwhelmed. Tony, I would never think of leaving you.”
Consequences Consequences Page 69 His eyes still flashed, blackness intensified. “Do you have any idea of the consequences if you did decide to leave me?” With continued eye contact and composure, she replied, “I would rather think about the consequences of staying with you and learning what makes you happy”—she smiled—“and learning what you want of me, and when you want it”—his eyes lightened and flickered brown—“Perhaps you could give me some hints?” He was calming. She watched the tension and fury leave his face. Continuing with the composed but now playful tone, she added, “As a matter of fact, I think you promised me something this afternoon in the kitchen.” It worked. He mellowed. She didn’t make the first move, wanting him to believe he was in control. When he didn’t speak and stood, she thought perhaps he was leaving her suite and this conversation was done. Instead, he scooped her out of the chair and carried her to the bed. He wasn’t his old self and he wasn’t his new gentle self. He was somewhere in between, but closer to gentle than the night before. Claire felt satisfied, she’d done it—she mellowed him. Her response resulted in the consequence she hoped—she was determined—she’d figure him out. In the meantime, this was a little thunder—no storm. Without friends no one would choose to live, though he had all other goods. —Aristotle Chapter Twenty-Nine ‡ The next two and a half weeks flew by in a flash. Sometime during their first night home, Claire awoke and heard Tony’s breathing in her bed. The drapes were open, and the moonlight illuminated her suite. She looked around and snuggled into the soft covers. She was in her suite in her home—not in New York. In three weeks, it would actually be half hers. The monetary value wasn’t what enamored her. It was the fact that he wanted it to belong to her. She possessed memories she refused to revisit. She also possessed a promise of a future. As she cuddled under the fluffy down comforter next to her warm sleeping fiancé, she knew she would hold tight to that promise. They met with Brad and Monica on the Monday following Thanksgiving. Claire knew they were definitely worth the expense, whatever that may be. Tony told Claire not to worry about it. Their ideas were amazing. The wedding would take place in the grand entry, with Claire descending the staircase. It would be decorated with lights and sheer tapestries. The reception would be in the backyard, in a large floored, heated tent accessible to guests from the sun porch. There would be many Christmas trees and millions of clear lights. There would be evergreens and red flowers. Emily would wear black and carry a red bouquet. There would be an open bar and hors d’oeuvres and then a full sit-down meal of multiple courses. The cake was chic and decorated with real flowers. The flavors would include white, chocolate, raspberry, and carrot. Claire was especially excited about the string quartet from the Quad City Symphony, the place of her and Tony’s first night out. Tony gave them the list of guests Patricia had compiled. He asked Claire about guests over and over. She repeated, she only cared about Emily and John and Tony’s close friends. She saw the difficulty Emily had with Claire’s new lifestyle and feared her old friends wouldn’t feel comfortable. She mentioned Meredith as an example of why her friends from before should not attend; Tony couldn’t argue her logic. The guest list consisted of the few people who called Tony—Tony and 150 of his not so close business and political allies. People, he explained, who should be invited whom he liked, needed, or who needed him. Brad and Monica had a draft of the wedding invitation: You are cordially invited to the private wedding ceremony of: Ms. Claire Nichols and Mr. Anthony Rawlings. The ceremony will take place at the Iowa City estate of Mr. and Mrs. Rawlings on December the eighteenth two thousand and ten, at precisely five thirty in the evening. A dinner and dance reception will immediately follow at the estate. Patricia volunteered to receive and compile the RSVPs. It would all be handled at Tony’s Iowa City office. The string quartet would begin playing at 5:00 PM with the ceremony at 5:30 PM. There would be valet parking and a coat check since winter coats were predictable. The reception would include a live jazz band and dancing. There would not be a DJ, but there would be an MC to make announcements and talk to the guests. Each guest or couple would receive a gift basket in appreciation of their attendance from Mr. and Mrs. Rawlings. The baskets would include a bottle of fine wine, two crystal wine glasses, some fine chocolates wrapped in red and green foil, and a note thanking them for their attendance. When Brad asked Claire if her father would be giving her away, she told him her father was deceased. He asked if she had anyone else to give her away or did she plan to walk down the stairs and aisle alone. The question prompted Claire to think of John. She didn’t ask; she just looked at Tony. Tony sighed and responded, “She’d like to have her brother-in-law give her away.” Later Tony told Claire he liked the idea. Perhaps if John gave her away, he’d accept that she was his wife first and foremost. Tony, Brent—his best man—and John would all need matching tuxedos. Tony liked Armani and said he’d contact the men to have the tuxedos tailored. It didn’t take Tony and Brent long to reach a mutual understanding regarding the prenuptial agreement—Tony agreed not to have one—Brent agreed to accept Tony’s decision. Once Tony and Claire approved Brad and Monica’s designs and blueprints, the work began. First thing Tuesday morning, crews of workers descended upon the estate. There were trucks with cherry pickers putting lights in trees, and electricians connecting wires to ensure illumination. A construction crew worked in the backyard constructing the large tent, with more electricians for lighting and heating. There were people in the house putting up decorations. Catherine was uneasy with the multitude of people. She made sure everyone knew she was in charge of the house and everyone answered to her. Claire did her best to stay out of the way. Tony left each morning for work. He had a wedding in less than three weeks and the pesky challenge of a multibillion-dollar industry which needed his attention. He even needed to make some day trips to places as far away as Dallas, Los Angeles, and New England. Claire also needed to make a few more trips to New York for dress fittings. Tony hadn’t planned for that. It was Courtney’s offer of help in any way that reduced his anxiety. He required Claire to be the one to call Courtney and inquire. Courtney sounded thrilled. They’d use Tony’s jet as long as he wasn’t using it. If he needed to travel there would be Rawlings Industries jets available. Eric would accompany them. Tony also allowed Claire to contact Emily and John after the meeting with Brad and Monica. She let Emily know that her dress would be black. Emily sounded elated to learn it wasn’t pink. Claire also asked John if he would do her the honor of walking her down the aisle and giving her away. He responded, “Claire, I’d be honored to walk you down the aisle, but know I’ll never give you away.” Of course, Tony was listening as she spoke and rolled his black eyes. She didn’t let her voice falter and thanked John for his constant devotion. Claire also reminded Emily to contact the boutique regarding her fittings and told them that Tony or his secretary, Patricia, would be contacting them about their travel plans as well as John’s tuxedo.
Consequences Consequences Page 70 Everything was falling into place. On their first trip to New York, Claire and Courtney left Iowa early on Wednesday morning, the December 8. With an hour time difference, it took three and a half hours to get to NEW YORK CITY. They left at 6:00 AM, which both ladies said was too early. They arrived before 10:00 AM EST and went directly to the boutique. The dress was ready and in need of alterations. Claire’s shoes were white Mary Jane-style beaded four-inch heels. They looked magnificent with the dress. When Claire exited the dressing room, Courtney screamed. At first it shocked Claire, but then she started laughing—Courtney was a riot. Claire had so much fun with her. Courtney went on and on about how stunning, beautiful, and stylish Claire looked. She promised Tony would be spellbound from the moment he saw her. After the boutique Courtney told Eric she and Claire were going to the Astor Court at the St. Regis Hotel, one of the top New York tea rooms, for lunch. She also told him he didn’t need to worry about picking them up until after 3:00 PM—they had some shopping to do. Claire tried to argue. She didn’t want to discuss her uneasiness, but she knew she’d only received permission for her gown fitting—not shopping. Courtney wouldn’t discuss it. With no way to contact Tony, Claire felt increasingly ill. Once they arrived at the tea room, Courtney casually mentioned, “Tony and I agreed when we spoke the other night, you need a new dress for the wedding rehearsal, and this afternoon would be a great time to find one.” Claire relaxed. She wished he’d said something, but if he knew about it—she felt better. Without saying all of that to Courtney, Claire smiled and said, “Well, all right then, let’s have some lunch and find the best rehearsal dress in the city!” She’d shopped many times with her credit card, but shopping with a friend and her credit card was much better. Courtney helped her find a beautiful red Valentino cotton tweed dress with an asymmetrical bow. The V neck would show off her journey necklace, and of course she needed new shoes for her new dress. The Salvatore Ferragamo leather peep-toe pumps were a perfect complement. Not only did she look stunning, but the color was also perfect for the whole Christmas theme. Claire enjoyed shopping with someone who seemed comfortable with the higher-end purchases. The rehearsal would be at Tony and Claire’s house, but Courtney insisted the rehearsal dinner be at her and Brent’s house. After all, it was the groom’s parents’ responsibility, and they were Tony’s oldest and dearest friends. They would be honored to host this special event. Claire thanked her for her kindness, and told her she would talk to Tony and get back to her as soon as possible. When Claire returned home she was relieved to arrive before Tony. When 7:00 PM came and he arrived for dinner, she found herself nervous about the additional shopping and luncheon. He didn’t alleviate her unease when he asked about her day. How did she like her dress? Oh, she liked it very much, and Courtney liked it too. Did they come right back to Iowa after the boutique? Claire hesitated and watched. Tony’s expression didn’t reveal any knowledge of her activities. She suddenly worried Courtney told her it was okay just to pacify her. Bravely, Claire put on her mask, bit her lip, and casually continued, “Oh no, we didn’t. Courtney prearranged with you”—she added—“to make a day of it.” While Claire answered Tony looked at his plate and then moved only his eyes slowly toward Claire. “Excuse me?” Her heart raced. “Why didn’t you tell me you arranged for us to shop for my rehearsal dress?” He smiled. “Courtney drives a hard bargain. She’s hard to resist.” The ladies scheduled their final visit to the boutique for Saturday, December 11, one week before the wedding. They planned to arrive at the boutique by 10:00 AM, have a final fitting, and return at 3:00 PM to try on the dress again with the final alterations and bring it home to Iowa. This trip also had surprises planned. On Friday evening as Tony and Claire ate, his iPhone rang. He answered and handed Claire the phone. It was unusual for her to receive a call, and especially unusual for her to talk on a telephone without it being on speaker. She answered tentatively, “Hello? This is Claire?” “Hi, it’s Cort.” Claire understood why Tony allowed her to talk; he trusted Courtney. Her voice comforted Claire. Courtney went on to let Claire know Sue, MaryAnn, and Bev were joining them for New York City tomorrow. Since they had time to spare between fittings, the women planned on taking Claire out for a bridal shower luncheon. Stunned and startled, Claire was thrilled. She hadn’t even considered a shower, after all Tony could buy anything she needed, but it was part of the wedding tradition. She told Courtney it sounded wonderful and asked if she could hold a minute. Claire hit the mute button on Tony’s phone and looked at him across the table meeting his intense gaze. “She wants Bev, MaryAnn, and Sue to join us tomorrow”—his eyebrows rose—“They want to take me to lunch for a bridal luncheon.” She smiled. “And do you want to do this?” He tormented her, making her request his permission. She knew Courtney was waiting. “I do”—he didn’t speak—“I think it would be nice to have a shower”—still no response—“May we have the shower?” He smiled and nodded. She excitedly hit the mute button, and spoke in the phone, “Courtney, I think that sounds wonderful. Will we all meet at the airport or do they need to be picked up?” When she hung up she handed Tony back his phone and said, “Thank you! This is so wonderful, I never expected a shower!” The plane ride was joyous with talk of the wedding and excitement over Claire’s dress. The merriment continued when she exited the fitting room as all the ladies went crazy about the dress and how beautiful Claire looked. A few minute alternations needed to be completed. Eric hadn’t been available to join them on their excursion, so they traveled by taxi. Claire liked that. Having all of them pile into one cab reminded her of her past life. At noon they arrived at King’s Carriage House, a wonderfully quaint English-style restaurant located in a brownstone on the Upper East Side. They had reservations and were taken to the second level where the walls were painted a deep rich red and large chandeliers glowed. The intimate tables were richly arranged, very girlie. It exuded the feeling of a shower and alone would have thrilled Claire, but the real surprise came in seeing Emily sitting at their table. She ran to hug her sister and asked how she knew. She explained Claire’s good friend Courtney planned the entire thing. When Claire hugged Courtney, Courtney whispered in Claire’s ear, “Tony gave me her number.” Claire had a marvelous afternoon! After the luncheon Emily accompanied them back to the boutique where they all saw her in her matron-of-honor’s dress. Claire surprised her with a gift of a pair of black Jimmy Choo satin pumps with a jewel bow. They were perfect for the dress and the wedding; however, it was as Claire came out of the dressing room in the wedding gown one last time, completely altered and ready, that everyone, even Ms. Springhill, applauded. Claire was elated with the final result and felt so pretty. The 5:00 PM ladies flew back to Iowa with Claire’s gown, shoes, undergarments, including slip and veil. Emily would arrive on Wednesday evening. It was a great afternoon and they ended it with a bottle of champagne and some snacks on the plane ride home.
Consequences Consequences Page 71 When Tony entered the suite that evening, she sprung up and encircled his neck with her arms. “You’re awful!” And she kissed him passionately. Surprised, he replied, “Okay, remind me to be awful more often. What did I do?” “Only assist in giving me the best bridal luncheon ever, which included my sister!” He looked at her suspiciously. She quickly replied, “Oh, don’t start. Courtney told me you were the one who gave her Emily’s number. You, who acted like you didn’t know anything about others joining us. You’re really rotten, and I love you more every day.” She kissed him again. He grinned and returned the kiss. When he asked to see her dress, she said, “No.” He expressed astonishment at her denial. “You can’t see it until next Saturday.” He conceded to see what she would wear under her dress. Claire grinned. They were alone in her suite. Seductively, she began to unbutton her blouse—one button at a time. Love one another, but make not a bond of love, let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls. —Kahlil Gibran Chapter Thirty ‡ Emily arrived on the Wednesday evening before the wedding. Tony sent his private plane to pick her up in Albany; however, John was involved in a hearing and wouldn’t be available until Friday. John apologized to Claire for the mix-up, but he couldn’t change the trial date. Claire decided it was all right. She was happy to have Emily all to herself. Nevertheless, as she sat in the back of one of Tony’s cars at the airport waiting for Emily’s arrival, she worried about Emily’s reaction to flying in a private plane. The interior of the BMW was warm and permeated the smell of leather which was significantly better than the cold Iowa chill outside the windows. It had snowed the past three days, and everything was brilliantly covered with a beautiful clean white blanket. Once the door of the jet opened and stairs descended, Claire got out of the car. Though she wore jeans, a furry jacket, and snow boots to stay warm, she still felt the brisk air. Keeping her leather gloved hands deep in her pockets, she watched as the crew cleared the runway and the pavement as the snow continued to fall. Emily descended the stairs and hugged Claire. “Hi, sis, are you by yourself?” “Carlos drove me here, but Tony’s still at work.” They got into the warm car while Carlos retrieved Emily’s luggage and placed it in the trunk. Emily smiled and said, “You know, when you and Anthony offered to arrange our travel plans, I was kind of expecting a ticket on United or something”—Claire didn’t speak, she waited and Emily continued—“But, I’m not complaining; however, I am anxiously anticipating your home.” Claire sensed Emily’s honest attempt at acceptance. Relieved, Claire excitedly spoke, “Good. I can’t wait for you to see it. Right now, it’s very busy and cluttered. There have been hundreds of workers preparing for the ceremony, but we can get away from all the people and have some time to ourselves. Have you eaten?” It was 7:30 PM in Iowa and the sky was very dark, yet the snow which continued to fall made it appear brighter. “I had a few snacks on the plane.” “Good, we’ll eat when we get home,” Claire replied. The estate looked stately on any given day. In the snow—it appeared splendid. With the addition of a million white lights lining the drive, trees, and bushes around the residence—it was grand. Claire was very pleased to have Emily visit. She never would have dreamed of asking Tony to allow her family to stay. Therefore, his invitation wasn’t only unexpected, but remarkable. Of course, there was plenty of room. With Tony, room wasn’t the issue—it was privacy. During the past two weeks, privacy was at a premium. There were workers everywhere. When you turned a corner on the main level, you never knew who you might encounter. For that reason, Tony and Claire spent most of their time hidden away in her suite. While the car wound up the driveway Emily speechlessly watched as the estate came into view. The house glowed from the decorations for Christmas and the grand event. Carlos stopped in front of the house where a grounds worker busily cleared the walk for Ms. Claire and her guest. When Emily reached for her door handle, Claire touched her hand causing Emily to hesitate. Moments later, Carlos got out and went around and opened their door and then opened the door to the house. Once inside, Catherine greeted them. Claire happily introduced two of her favorite people. She hoped Emily could sense the exceptional relationship she had with Catherine. Catherine informed them, “Ladies your dinner can be ready at any time. Mr. Rawlings is delayed due to weather; however, he recommended that you eat without him.” Claire thanked Catherine and told her she would show Emily to her room, let her freshen up, and they would return in fifteen minutes. Emily and John were given a room down the hall from Claire’s suite. It was a room with one of the doors Claire was surprised to see many months ago. These bedrooms were rarely used by anyone and kept immaculate just in case they may be needed. It was a suite about half the size of Claire’s, with a queen-sized bed, bedroom furniture, a sofa and chair, a small gas fireplace, attached bath, and walk-in closet. There were large windows looking out onto the backyard; however, all that was visible now was the top of a very large tent. Claire showed Emily her room and told her Carlos would have her luggage there soon. Then she showed Emily to her own suite—just a few doors away, in the same corridor. Emily tried to be polite, but she continually repeated this is beautiful. Once in Claire’s suite, Emily asked, “Is this Anthony’s room, too?” “No. He has his own room on the first floor”—Claire smiled—“But, he does visit.” She sensed Emily’s surprise. The fact she and Tony didn’t share a bedroom had just earned Tony a few points in Emily’s book. As they finished eating their dinner in the formal dining room, Tony arrived home. He behaved as polite and gracious as possible—kissing Claire and hugging Emily. He told Emily how happy he was she arrived safely in spite of the weather. Luckily, the snow was scheduled to stop tomorrow and the forecast was clear for the weekend. Then he turned to Claire. “But, you know those weather reports; you can never trust those meteorologists.” She playfully threw her napkin at him and he smiled. When he sat, Catherine brought him his dinner. The ladies sipped coffee while Tony ate. After dinner Tony offered to take the lead on a house tour. Secretly, Claire was delighted. She’d been concerned about the magnitude of a tour. It was much easier to defer to Tony. As they walked from room to room and level to level, Emily told them how much she loved their home and jokingly asked if maps were available at the guest relations desk. Tony and Claire laughed, saying it wasn’t that big—she’d know her way around in no time. Tony added, “It did seem to take Claire a few weeks before she found her way around.” Understandably, his statement caught Claire by surprise; however, he didn’t notice Claire’s response. He was busy watching for Emily’s reaction. Her obvious lack of understanding satisfied his unasked questions. Her mask secure, Claire said, “Well, I finally learned the secret. Everything is connected to the main house, and if you need anything just ask.”
Consequences Consequences Page 72 Her response received a twinkling eyed grin from her fiancé. Emily retired after the tour and promised to be more fun tomorrow. After a day of work, travel, and the magnitude of her surroundings, she was exhausted. Claire hugged her sister. “Oh Emily, we’re so happy you’re here.” It wasn’t long after Claire readied for bed that Tony joined her. Claire couldn’t help but inquire, “Explain that comment, please.” Tony laughed. “My dear, I was just checking your reflexes.” “Well, you nearly caused whiplash.” Grinning he remarked, “Perhaps there are other reflexes we could investigate?” John’s hearing adjourned at 12:00 PM on Friday. He offered to fly commercial, but the earliest he would make Iowa City would be after 10:00 PM Tony graciously provided a Rawlings Industries jet which allowed him to arrive in Iowa City by 3:30 PM. Although, Emily prepared him for the house and its amenities, he repeatedly expressed his gratitude to Tony and Claire for the flight and told them their home was stunning. Truly, it was a beehive of activity with people everywhere making last-minute adjustments and preparing for the event. There were even people in the kitchen beginning to prepare the food, and the tent had been transformed into a picturesque banquet hall. Claire and Emily readied themselves for the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. Tony had accepted Courtney’s kind invitation and agreed the rehearsal dinner could be held at the Simmons’. The rehearsal was scheduled to begin at 6:30 PM—with dinner at 8:00 PM. It was late, but everyone needed to get to the Rawlings home after a long day of work. The intimate guest list for the rehearsal included the minister, musicians, Brad, Monica, Patricia and a guest, the Vandersols, the Simmons’ and their children, the Millers, the Bronsons, Elijah Summer, and MaryAnn Combs. Of course, these guests would be at the wedding tomorrow, but this informal private gathering would allow them more relaxed friendly conversation than would be possible at the big event. Everyone congregated in the grand hall by 6:15 PM. Obviously, this group of friends respected Tony’s affection for punctuality. Since Tony wanted to make an entrance with his fiancée, Claire waited for him in her suite. When he arrived, he greeted her and said, “Ms. Nichols, you’re stunning this evening.” Just before entering the hall, he beamed and whispered, “Tomorrow at this time you’ll be Mrs. Anthony Rawlings.” She kissed her fiancé and smiled. “I can’t wait.” There was a brief discussion by the head of security about some issues for the wedding. In an attempt to limit pictures—all cell phones—iPods—iPad—cameras—and any recording equipment—visual or audio—would be confiscated at the door and returned upon leaving the ceremony. The only recording of the wedding would be done by the hired photographer and cinematographer. Those photos would be reviewed by Shelly prior to release; however, as Tony and Claire’s personal friends, the head of security asked everyone present to be observant. If they noticed any prohibited recording, please notify security personnel immediately. They would be everywhere. Claire felt like she was back stage at a rock concert. The minister took a few minutes to discuss the important meaning of marriage and its significance. “Many people enter into marriage in this day and age without the understanding of eternity. When two individuals are joined in the sight of God, those two become one. They are one for eternity.” Claire turned to Tony. She was in awe. How did she end up in the grand foyer of Anthony Rawlings’s estate, holding his hand, looking into his chocolate eyes, and listening to a minister talk about their marriage? The minister continued, “After speaking with Anthony and Claire, I believe they are fully aware of the commitment which they are about to make, a commitment to God—to friends—to family—and to one another. So to you, the intimate group of friends who Anthony and Claire have chosen to share in their special day please join me in a prayer. Let us ask God to provide for Anthony and Claire—not in a monetary way. Let us pray that God will provide them with love, understanding, and patience. That He’ll provide each of them with the qualities necessary to take what they begin tomorrow and continue it into eternity. Let us pray.” Claire closed her eyes, Tony tenderly squeezed her hand, and a tear trickled down her cheek. Brad and Monica then took control. They told Claire, John, and Emily to go upstairs. Tony, Brent, and the minister went to Tony’s office. The string quartet began to play. Brad and Monica wore earphones and microphones and directed the participants. First, they instructed the men to leave the office and walk to the back of the grand hall. A raised platform surrounded by sleek Christmas trees and lights had been constructed in front of the large windows. The only decorations on the trees, besides the white lights, were deep red crystal globes. The windows behind the platform exposed snow covered trees with more lights. The quartet was positioned slightly off to one side of the platform and the harpist was on the other. Once the men were in place, Emily was directed to descend the stairs and make her way down the aisle to the platform. After she arrived at her destination, the quartet concluded and the harpist began the traditional wedding march. Although it was the rehearsal, Claire and Tony’s friends rose to their feet and Brad motioned to Claire and John to descend the steps. John offered Claire his arm, kissed her cheek, and began to take her down the stairs. Before they reached the first step he stopped, leaned near, and whispered, “Claire, we love you. We only want you to be happy. Tell me he’s good to you and that he makes you happy.” With tears in her eyes, she said, “John, he can be”—she remembered her mask—“he does.” John tried to smile and patted her hand. They descended the stairs and made their way to the platform. After another song by the string quartet and a verse from the minister—the minister asked, “Who gives this woman to be wed?” John spoke loud and clear, “With great love and respect, her sister and I agree to share this magnificent woman.” He kissed Claire’s cheek and gently lifted her hand from his arm and placed it in Tony’s hand. Shit, was the only word that came to Claire’s mind. She looked up at Tony. He was looking at her, but his face didn’t register John’s words—apparently, he had a mask too. Claire was certain if Tony were a cartoon character there would be smoke coming from his ears. She mouthed, I’m sorry. He squeezed her hand gently and they both smiled. The minister continued speaking. They all four rode together in the limousine to Courtney and Brent’s house. Claire explained to Emily that in the late morning there would be a masseuse, manicure technician, cosmetologist, and hair stylist all coming to do miracles on them. Catherine and Courtney would be in Claire’s suite to assist them both with their dresses. Tony upheld appearances much more proficiently than John. He remained polite and friendly to both Emily and John and was loving and attentive to Claire. Once they reached the Simmons’ house, Tony was the totally devoted bridegroom and the man of the hour. John was friendly—but quiet. His unhappiness made Claire uneasy, and she privately begged Emily to do something. “Don’t let him ruin my special day.” Emily promised to try.
Consequences Consequences Page 73 Courtney provided a wonderfully delicious Italian dinner with antipasto salad, bread and oil, red wine and pasta. The festive mood and atmosphere filled Claire with hope and joy. Tim and Sue were chatting with Tony, as Claire walked up and overheard them discuss Tim’s role during Claire and Tony’s honeymoon. At first, she stood politely by Tony, but when they paused, Claire tried to be sneaky. “Now, Tim, tell me again how long you’ll need to be at the helm?” Tony laughed and pulled her close. “Good try.” Then addressing Tim, he continued, “You’re one of the few privileged individuals to know where we’ll be—in case of an emergency. Most people—including my beautiful new wife—do not know our destination. So, don’t let her try to worm it out of you”—he smiled—“Or you, Sue, if Tim has shared.” “Oh, you’re so mean”—Claire feigned a pout—“How will I know what to pack?” “Another ‘A’ for effort, Catherine has taken care of it for you.” Claire smiled at the Bronsons. They smiled and put their fingers to their lips. They wouldn’t spoil Tony’s surprise. The dinner party began to wind down about 10:30 PM, at which time the gentlemen announced it was time to celebrate Tony’s last night of freedom. They headed to the lower level for cognac, cigars, and some serious ***. Brent announced Tony should be prepared to lose more than his freedom—he’d be losing some serious money during their tournament. “Ladies do not wait up.” It was MaryAnn who replied, “Don’t worry about us. We’re doing our own celebrating back at Claire’s house. My driver’s ready and Catherine has martinis waiting at the indoor pool and hot tub.” Tony and Claire kissed good night and were told they couldn’t see each other again until the ceremony. While getting their coats, Emily whispered to Claire, “I’m sorry—I was wrong. You really do have a life and wonderful friends.” Claire hugged her sister. The ladies all went back to the estate, put on bathing suits, and partied in the hot tub. Claire decided Courtney and MaryAnn were teenagers in adult bodies. Tony worried so much about appearances, yet watching these two reputable women dance and sing in their bathing suits, Claire believed a little cutting loose was acceptable. Just because she believed it, didn’t mean she felt comfortable enough to do it. The reason her bachelorette party was at her house wasn’t lost on her. She didn’t want Tony watching her dance and sing inappropriately when he reviewed his surveillance. Claire enjoyed watching and sipped her drink. Late into the night, the subject of sex came up. It was Emily who, after consuming a few too many martinis, asked Claire, “Are you really okay with marrying a man so much older? What if he can’t keep up?” Claire smiled bashfully. “I don’t think that’s a problem.” She tried desperately to change the subject. Emily slept that night in Claire’s suite. John returned to the estate after staying at the Simmons’ home with the men for the bachelor party activities and slept in their room. Claire and Emily wanted some sister time. It was like being little girls again. They giggled until early morning. At almost 11:00 AM Catherine came into the suite and woke them, bringing lots of coffee and breakfast. After they each showered, the parade of pampering began. The forecast was correct—the sky was a brilliant sapphire blue with reflective colorless snow covering everything. The grounds crew diligently worked to clear the drive and plenty of parking spaces. The temperature was cold, in the midtwenties, yet the sun shone all day. Claire didn’t want to risk seeing Tony and chance bad luck. Therefore, she didn’t leave her suite until it was her time to walk down the aisle. She and Emily received massages, manicures, and facials. While the beauticians worked tirelessly on their hair, Catherine brought them more food. Claire said, “I’m too excited to eat.” Catherine wouldn’t listen. “Ms. Claire, I will not be responsible for you fainting during the ceremony. You must eat.” Emily smiled, happy that Claire had Catherine to take care of her. By 4:30 PM Catherine, Courtney, and Emily began to help Claire get into her dress. First, was body shaper, then, the long slip which provided the fullness necessary for the satin gown. The bodice was fitted and altered to perfection for Claire’s slim, petite figure. The dress was strapless and went over the slip. The accessory which persuaded Claire to choose this dress was the intricate lace overlay which created transparent three-quarter-length sleeves and a long train. The lace of the veil complemented the overlay. The beautician created a sweeping hairstyle that made the perfect niche for the veil to attach. The lace overlay created an off-the-shoulder look which truly didn’t need jewelry; however, Emily had a string of pearls. “They are the pearls mom wore in her wedding and the ones I wore in mine.” Claire fought the tears knowing they were her something old and something borrowed from the wedding tradition. She also wore a blue garter and supposed her dress was new. After Claire dressed, the photographer entered her suite to take some special photos of her and her ladies. Prior to the ceremony there was a knock at her door. Courtney went to the door. Claire could hear Courtney, “Tony, you’re incredibly handsome but you cannot be here.” The first thought that ran through Claire’s mind was Tony knocked! He’d never knocked on her door. She heard his voice, every nerve in her body electrified with the realization that she would really be his wife. She heard his deep baritone voice, “I have a special gift for Claire, it’s her something new. Please be sure to tell her the box is blue velvet on purpose.” Courtney must have questioned Tony, because he explained, “She’ll understand—I promise.” Claire smiled as she thought I really do love him! Somehow he knew she’d wear pearls. Perhaps he’d expected her grandmother’s necklace; nonetheless, she opened the blue velvet box to beautiful dangling pearl earrings hanging from platinum ear clips covered in small sparkling diamonds. With her hair style and the veil, the earrings were perfect. The ladies in her suite went crazy. The consensus was the earrings were perfect—and so was Tony. At that moment, Claire believed so too. She wanted to believe it, with all her heart, and her heart did, but it was her mind that held too many memories, ones that she’d successfully compartmentalized away—away—not gone. It wasn’t for lack of trying. When Brad knocked on the door of her suite, Catherine and Courtney hugged her and sped off to their seats. Claire looked at herself one last time in the full-length mirror. She liked what she saw and prayed Tony would too. She and Emily proceeded down the hall to the main stairs where she could hear the music from the quartet. They heard a rumbling of whispers. Suddenly, Claire thought about the guests. Who were they? She really didn’t know any of them. She’d heard names and some she recognized. Some were political figures, some were business people she’d met at benefits, and some were names she’d heard in the media. Then she remembered their friends, the people who made last night incredibly memorable. Their friends were the people who supported both of them and were not solely present because of Anthony Rawlings. It was the others, the ones she didn’t know, that scared her. She felt like they were all judging her. She wanted to be perfect for those people so Tony would be proud. The multiple acetaminophens helped to keep the headache at bay.
Consequences Consequences Page 74 Brad listened to his ear piece and waited for the deviation in music. The hum of voices disappeared. Claire couldn’t see the guests or the men exiting Tony’s office, but she knew that was what was happening. Emily kissed John and Claire before she descended the stairs. John took Claire’s arm, kissed her cheek, and said, “I won’t disrupt your day. You look amazing, and I want you to know how much I love you. You aren’t just my sister-in-law—you’re my little sister. Please remember you can always count on Emily and me”—he squeezed her hand—“Always know you’re loved.” Claire kissed his cheek and thanked him. Brad gave them the signal, and they started down the stairs. When John was asked who gives this woman to be wed, he replied, “With great love and admiration—her sister and I.” The next thirty-five minutes passed as if a dream. Claire saw faces. She saw the smiles of her new friends and of her sister, but what she noted above all else was Anthony Rawlings. When she reached the aisle and beheld him, he was watching her and waiting. He had eyes only for her. He stood incredibly, handsomely in front of the guests, hands resting casually at his sides, shoulders broad, impeccable Armani custom tuxedo, a gratified smile, and eyes encircled in chestnut brown, yet still absorbed light. Standing next to him in front of everyone, she felt drawn into the darkness searching for light and warmth. When his eyes sparkled, she felt weak. I’m marrying him—he is marrying me—I’m now his wife. At that moment she realized that this was a contract now recognizable by the world. It wasn’t two signatures on a napkin—but a real legal marriage contract. He now truly owned her. There was nothing she could do about it. He gave her one chance to escape, and she didn’t take it. She made a decision, and that decision would have consequences. Now as the world watched, public failure wasn’t an option. The world saw the most amazing wedding ceremony money could buy—with a stunning woman happily marrying a handsome man. In contrast, Claire saw a napkin. She knew too well appearance meant everything. As the music played and the minister spoke, she worked desperately to re-compartmentalize the flood of thoughts and emotions beseeching her mind. She smiled lovingly, answered the minister obediently and behaved appropriately. The kiss at the conclusion of the ceremony was romantic, and the minister’s announcement of Mr. and Mrs. Anthony Rawlings was met with ravenous applause. Everything appeared perfect. The reception was an equally flawless exhibition. Brad and Monica thought of everything—the ambiance was romantic, with impeccable decorations. Claire and Tony dutifully greeted each guest and thanked them for their attendance on their special day. Throughout the entire evening Tony was wonderful. He told Claire he loved her—how beautiful she was—how honored he was to have her as his wife—and how he couldn’t wait for the reception to be over—so he could show her. Under it all, Claire continued to have feelings of misgivings. She worked diligently to keep them all buried under layers of make-up, hairspray, crinoline, slips, satin, lace, pearls, and pretense. Everyone enjoyed themselves. Claire even saw John and Emily laughing with Tom and Bev. Once the first course was served, Brent stood, lifted a glass of champagne, and offered a toast to the newlyweds. “May I have your attention, ladies and gentlemen? I want to take this opportunity to welcome Claire Rawlings to our world. Claire, Tony has been my friend, my confidante, and my boss”—the crowd giggled—“for a very long time. I’ve watched as he has succeeded in business and failed in love”—another snicker—“but recently, Courtney and I have watched as Tony has experienced success in the area of love. Claire, when you’re present his smile is brighter and his eyes have a spark. Perhaps you haven’t noticed, but sometimes Tony’s eyes can seem dark. That isn’t the case when he’s with you. You are the light of his life. You have given Tony the part of his life that was missing, and as we look around, it’s obvious that not a lot was missing”—there were smiles and agreement all around—“Now with you by his side, I believe my good friend is truly a man who has everything. Thank you, Claire. We’re so happy to welcome you, and we look forward to an eternity of a happier Tony Rawlings.” This precluded a standing ovation, lifting of glasses, and claps of agreement. After they cut the cake and gently fed each other a bite, Claire chocolate and Tony vanilla, the conductor fired up the jazz band. The music resonated soulfully, rhythmical and lively. The lights of the tent dimmed and the dance floor glittered with intensified brilliance. Tony led Claire onto the dance floor hand in hand. His eyes, soft as crushed velvet, beheld his beautiful new wife. She was lost in his gaze of complete love and adoration. Swiftly, her doubts and fears faded away. He had the most amazing ability to dissolve her heart and soul. Gallantly he took her hand, encircled her small waist with his strong, powerful, yet tender embrace, and her body immediately molded to his. They moved in sync. He turned, twirled, and spun her around the floor. The bustled wedding gown swayed to his slightest inclination. They had only danced together a few times, but their bodies moved together on numerous occasions. She became lost in his stare, and without thought or consciousness he had complete control and dominance over every aspect of her being and every movement of her body. With each crescendo of the music, Claire’s heartbeat accelerated. Soon, the dance floor was surrounded by guests watching the newlyweds waltz. Tony tall and dark—Claire petite and light—their contrast intensified the beauty and sensuality of the moment. Claire didn’t notice the gathered crowd until the music reached its final fermata. Up until that moment, her brilliant emerald green eyes could only see her husband. When the music stilled, he gently kissed his bride and the guests applauded. Claire blushed and smiled. The band began again and Tony charmingly bowed and asked Emily to dance. John nodded to Emily and extended his hand to Claire. Whispering in Claire’s ear, John said, “You’re beautiful in love.” The four of them danced for a few minutes until the MC asked the guests to join them. Promptly, the floor burst with couples. Sometime after 11:00 PM Claire and Tony, no longer in their wedding attire, kissed their friends and family goodbye and said adieu to the others as they left to begin their honeymoon adventure. Once again, Claire was being led by Tony to an unknown destination. After their flight reached its cruising altitude Tony began to seduce his wife. He caressed, kissed, and tantalized her. He told her in a raspy, sensual tone he loved her, how amazing she had been and she was. He also told her what she already knew, “Mrs. Rawlings, you are now mine—completely. You belong to me.” Tomorrow is a mystery. Yesterday is history. Live today, it’s a gift, that’s why they call it “present.” —Unknown Chapter Thirty-One ‡ Claire awoke to the sensation of their plane decelerating on a runway. She’d been somewhere in a dream as her body lay upon the leather sofa wrapped in the soft cocoon of a luxurious blanket. The sudden increased roar of engines combined with the screech of brakes transported her to the present. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep or if they’d reached their mysterious destination, but she remembered the excitement in Tony’s eyes as he talked about their romantic journey. Willingly, she continued to allow herself to be taken to places unknown.
Consequences Consequences Page 75 Looking down at her left hand, she saw the familiar engagement ring now with its new mate. Her wedding band glistened with embedded diamonds matching the circle around the large solitaire. They were truly beautiful. Pondering the past nine months, it boggled her mind to think she was wearing such an amazing set of rings and more importantly their meaning—she was married—she was married to Anthony Rawlings. Slowly, she turned to see her husband. His bare feet were elevated as he lounged in a reclining chair. Watching him, she marveled at his relaxed pose—a stark contrast to how he usually looked when they flew. His attention was focused on the laptop resting on his long legs. Her cheeks and the tips of her lips moved upward as she noticed his jeans. They were the ones he’d worn when they left the reception. It seemed they were both wearing what the other preferred—he in his jeans—and her out of hers. She snuggled into the soft blanket and closed her eyes. The engines hummed as she felt the plane taxi toward its stop. Claire recalled the past twenty-four hours and admitted Tony was right. Brad and Monica had created the perfect ceremony and reception. She remembered the estate and decorations. Even the snow obeyed, as if requisitioned, to complement the final product. She thought about their friends, her family, and the guests. She recalled John’s kind words and Brent’s welcoming toast. Smiling, she remembered Tony, incredibly handsome in his tuxedo and incessantly complimentary of her and her gown. Cinderella at the ball couldn’t have felt more special. Like Prince Charming, he only had eyes for his bride. That admiration continued onto the jet. Once the cockpit door closed and the lights dimmed, his devotion grew to fervent passion. Suddenly, Claire realized the implication of her blanket. If they’d reached their destination, she needed to dress and quickly. “Are we at our honeymoon?” He turned from his computer and smiled. “You didn’t need to wake. You look so beautiful and peaceful.” Keeping the blanket wrapped around her, she went to him and knelt beside his chair. “I think I was worn-out.” Her emerald eyes glowed as she put her arms around his exposed midsection. Looking into his milk chocolate eyes, feeling his warmth, and inhaling his scent, she thought to herself, he’s really my husband. Tony’s eyes met hers, then scanned toward her blanket. Smiling, he said, “It was a busy day, Mrs. Rawlings.” The Mrs. Rawlings made Claire’s eyes sparkle. He gently kissed his wife and playfully attempted to see under her blanket. “And an eventful night, Mr. Rawlings.” “It isn’t over. We’re just stopping in LA to refuel. We have much more flying before we reach our destination.” This made Claire think. “So, we’re going to Hawaii?” “Would you like to go to Hawaii?” Claire said she would, she’d never been. He loved to make her squirm. “Well, we’ll have to find out where we end up—won’t we?” He kissed her again. The plane was now standing still. Eric and the pilot entered the cabin and bid hello to Mr. and Mrs. Rawlings. Apologizing for the interruption, they promised to be airborne in less than thirty minutes. Tony told them it was fine, just please do whatever was necessary, as soon as possible—they had a honeymoon to get to. The two men promised they would and opened the outside door to the cabin. The rush of fresh air was no longer cold—they definitely weren’t in Iowa anymore. Tony placed the laptop on the floor and invited Claire to his lap. She climbed up, rested her head on his strong chest and listened to the beat of his heart as he spoke about Los Angeles. His hands tenderly explored under her blanket, gently caressing her soft skin. He asked if she’d ever been there. Claire said no, she’d been to northern California, San Francisco when she was young on a family vacation. She remembered going to Alcatraz. Her dad, being a policeman, thought it was neat. But she didn’t. She recalled during the tour actually going into cells. There were audiotaped voices and sounds of cell doors closing, she didn’t like it at all. He hugged her. “I promise not to plan a visit to Alcatraz in our future. How old were you when you went there?” “I think I was twelve”—Claire looked up at his face—“Why do you ask?” “Oh, I was just wondering.” Tony went on to tell her about Eli and MaryAnn’s home in LA—actually in Malibu. Tony said he’ll need to bring Claire to one of their parties. He wasn’t much into the whole Hollywood scene, but even he had to admit, Eli and MaryAnn could throw an awesome party. Eli’s guests usually included people Claire had seen in movies or on TV. Eli could be an ass, but he was great at what he did, and there were multitudes of people who would kill to attend his parties. Tony described MaryAnn and Eli’s house as an architectural marvel situated on Malibu beach, hanging off a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. “I would love to see it sometime. Do you stay with them when you travel to LA?” “No, I—I mean—we”—he smiled—“we have an apartment in Hollywood—not far from Malibu.” Claire smirked. “Maybe sometime you could tell me how many apartments we have?” “We have many residences. It’ll take time to familiarize you with all of them.” She couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea. She had places in Iowa, New York City, Chicago, Hollywood, and other locations. “They’re not all as grand as New York and Chicago. I spend more time there.” “Yeah, well you never saw my apartment in Atlanta,” Claire replied. “I’m pretty sure compared to it, they’re all palatial.” Claire and Tony were talking and laughing when the door reopened. She quickly closed the blanket as the pilot announced they were ready to leave. She began to stand when Tony pulled her toward him. “Umm, don’t you think I should be in a seat belt when the plane takes off?” Reluctantly he released his hold, but not before opening her blanket and grinning. Claire kissed him, moved to the other chair, situated herself, her blanket, and buckled the seat belt. Within minutes they were airborne, and she drifted to a fitful sleep. Still at cruising altitude Claire awoke with Tony sleeping soundly in the neighboring recliner. Finding her air legs, she eased her way to the back of the cabin, which held a small shower and dressing room. From twenty thousand feet the view out the window held only blackness separated by a scattering of stars differentiating sky from sea. She found an overnight bag, undoubtedly packed by Catherine. It contained shower, hair, and cosmetic supplies, as well as a black negligee and a summer blouse with capris. She smiled. The negligee would have been nice, but Tony didn’t seem to mind the blanket. After a quick shower and fresh clothes she felt more alert. Her watch read 8:20 AM, but a glance out the window told her it was still dark wherever they were. They’d been traveling over eight hours; she assumed they’d be in Hawaii soon. Finishing her make-up she smiled, thinking of sunshine and beaches. She didn’t know how long they would be in Hawaii or on which island. The idea sounded wonderful and Tony enjoyed surprising her, but she wistfully thought about being involved in the planning. Walking unsteadily back into the cabin, Claire found Tony sitting at the table with his laptop and coffee. He turned to watch her enter. “Good morning, Mrs. Rawlings, you look beautiful. I wish you would have awakened me, I could have joined you in the shower.” He grinned over his cup.
Consequences Consequences Page 76 “I don’t think we both would fit. Besides, you looked too peaceful.” She sipped the warm auburn liquid and allowed its robust aroma to revive her senses. Tony explained they’d be landing on Oahu in Honolulu in an hour. It would only be about 3:00 AM, but they would deplane, find some breakfast and walk around before continuing their flight. She asked, “Continuing?—We aren’t staying in Hawaii?” “No, Hawaii is just a fuel stop, but we’ll need to revisit sometime for you to sightsee. It’s a lovely place”—his eyes taunted—“But not as lovely as where we’re going.” “And we are going where?” Claire asked, intrigued. Tony’s eyes sparkled, the black almost completely overtaken with the soft brown hue. His grin mischievous, he didn’t answer. “And how much longer until we get there?” “Mrs. Rawlings, you’re very inquisitive. What if I told you that we won’t reach our destination until tomorrow?” Claire thought about that—Twenty-four more hours of flying—and realized he wasn’t talking about twenty-four hours, he was talking about the next day. “Well, Mr. Rawlings, I’d say, it sounds like we are crossing the International Date Line.” She smiled smugly. He looked at her with admiration, and addressed Eric, who was refilling their coffee cups. “My wife is not only beautiful, she’s also incredibly intelligent.” He kissed her head as he stood. “I believe I’ll freshen up before we begin our descent.” With that, he disappeared behind the wall at the back of the cabin. Claire noticed his laptop open on the table. A quick Google search of land west of the International Date Line would’ve been beneficial. The screen was, of course, locked, so she’d just need to rely on her memory. Then she wondered if they were staying in the northern hemisphere or heading south? Sighing, Claire sipped her delicious coffee. She’d have to wait—she didn’t have a choice. Before they left the plane, Tony told Claire to get her purse from her overnight bag. Jokingly, she asked if she needed it to pay for breakfast. No, she needed her passport. “When did I get a passport?” He reminded her they’d discussed it months ago and Brent had filed the necessary paperwork. Apparently, this all happened while she was recovering from her accident. She couldn’t remember any of it, yet there it was: her picture, her signature, and her name Claire Nichols. Tony promised to apply for a new one with her real name Rawlings as soon as they returned to Iowa and a new ID. He smiled. Her new credit cards had already been requested. Hawaii was anticlimactic. She smelled the humid sea air as they descended the steps to the solid ground. The gentle tropical breeze enticed her skin, but they didn’t see anything other than the inside of the Honolulu International Airport, as they searched for and found a restaurant that served breakfast. After eating they needed to pass the TSA desk. Eric handled the inspection of the plane and bags; Tony and Claire needed to show their passports. When they were with the TSA agent she asked their destination. Claire didn’t know. Begrudgingly, Tony answered, “Fiji. Nadi, Fiji.” Claire remembered Fiji was a group of islands, she wasn’t sure how many, in the South Pacific. As they walked back to the plane she squeezed his hand and smiled. He wasn’t pleased his surprise was spoiled, but she knew where they were going and it made her happy. They had six more hours of flight. They landed in Nadi, Fiji at 10:30 AM Monday, December 20, after flying over eighteen hours. As their plane approached Nadi, Claire watched out the window, mesmerized by the turquoise water and sparkling white beaches. If Tony were upset about the TSA agent, witnessing Claire’s anticipation returned his own excitement. Once they landed, Eric loaded their luggage onto a small plane with a propeller and pontoons. He wished them an enjoyable honeymoon and promised he would be waiting when they returned. Apparently, their final destination could only be accessed by air. Tony and Claire then took a forty-five-minute flight to a private island. Their altitude was low, allowing them to enjoy the sights: dolphins swimming, gorgeous secluded white sand beaches, palm trees, and tropical rain forest vegetation. Outside the open windows of the plane was a true paradise, an oasis away from the rest of the world. Claire had never seen anything like it, and told Tony over and over how amazing it all looked. They landed on a crystal-clear aquamarine lagoon lined with a horseshoe of pristine white sand. Waiting on the beach was their personal staff: two chefs, maid, hostess, and boat captain. Claire had become accustomed to being waited upon, but these individuals lived to please Mr. and Mrs. Rawlings. The staff gathered their luggage, and they all walked a winding path to their bure, a Fijian word for straw hut. The humid tropical breeze blew Claire’s hair as her sandals sank into the white sand. Holding her husband’s hand, they approached their temporary dwelling. It was the most luxurious straw hut Claire had ever seen. Situated on a cliff above the water, they had stunning views of the ocean. First, they entered a gracious living room with a cathedral thatched ceiling, woven bamboo covered walls, and polished mahogany floors. Each room of their bure contained ceiling fans as well as the possibility of air conditioning. Claire couldn’t fathom why anyone would possibly want air conditioning. There were huge bi-folding doors which opened the entire frontage to private decks overlooking the water or tropical vegetation. Each deck contained lounge furniture for relaxation. The front deck even had a private infinity pool. As they stood in the living room and looked, the pool appeared to extend into the lagoon and beyond into the ocean below. The staff took their luggage to the large master bedroom complete with a four-poster king-sized bed. Roaming from room to room, Claire found a luxuriously designed bathroom which opened to a private outdoor lava rock shower and generous soaking tub designed for two. Thankfully, surrounding the outdoor shower and tub were lush tropical plants. After the tour of their temporary home, their hostess, Naiade, asked if they were ready to dine. Claire was famished. Tony informed Naiade they would be pleased to dine on the deck. The only thing missing from their bure was technology, which was just fine with Claire. She was accustomed to the lack of connectivity; however, Tony was relieved once he learned he had access to the Internet with his laptop. He explained, he needed to stay in contact with Tim, Brent, and others from his businesses. He reminded Claire, “You, my dear, only need to stay in contact with me.” Pulling her close, he added with a grin, “I promise to help.” She pressed herself closer and kissed his neck. “I think I can handle it.” “Be careful, Mrs. Rawlings, we may miss our meal.” Claire smiled. “I believe we have plenty of time for that. Right now, I’m hungry!” Apparently, they could make suggestions to their chefs at any time. They decided for the next ten days seafood would be the entrée of choice. They both enjoyed trying native dishes. Naiade told them about some activity options, including: unlimited access to a boat with a private captain, where they could enjoy a ride to watch marine life, island hop, or snorkel. A living barrier reef was nearby. They could also kayak or hike into the jungle. From the dining deck they enjoyed an amazing view of the ocean, with a wonderful sea breeze. The chefs prepared yellow fin tuna, fresh fruit, organic vegetables, and freshly baked bread. It all smelled and tasted scrumptious.
Consequences Consequences Page 77 It was early afternoon locally when they finished their meal and Claire was exhausted. She’d just traveled over eighteen hours, lost an entire day crossing an imaginary line, and gotten married. It was enough to tire anyone. Tony recommended relaxing in the outdoor soaking tub which opened to the endless blue sky. Over the next ten days they would discover it was even more enticing under the stars and moon. Tony may have suggested the tub as a place to relax, but Claire anticipated he had other plans. The tepid tub water, gentle sea breeze, sound of the waves lapping the beach, and romantic atmosphere combined to help increase Claire’s energy level. Tony said he understood they’d been traveling a long time, but to him it wasn’t tiring, it was confining. He wanted to release some penned up energy. Appreciating the amorous setting, Claire knew she would’ve been disappointed with anything less. Tony didn’t disappoint. Soaking in the warm water with him behind her, she rested her head against his wide chest. He began by massaging her shoulders, relieving the tension of the trip. As his hands moved, Claire felt the energy she’d thought gone begin to build inside of her. His lips found the nape of her neck and ignited goose bumps upon her arms and legs. Between kisses he whispered, “Thank you for being my wife. I love you.” He held her and caressed her skin. She in turn stroked his arms. Looking down she saw her rings sparkling under the water. When his hands discovered her breasts, they throbbed in anticipation; her nipples became hard and needy. His touch moved to her stomach and below causing Claire’s energy to return with a vengeance. She couldn’t control herself anymore. When she turned to face him, the warm water lapped the sides of the tub. Their mouths heatedly nibbled at one another’s as their tongues intermingled. Every action was consensual. Claire wanted him as much as he wanted her. As the breeze rustled the orchids and surrounding vegetation, he filled her with more than energy. Like on the dance floor they moved together, their bodies became one—like their names. The exuberance of his sensuality carried Claire beyond revitalization to ecstasy. As his fingers instigated passion, his lips alternated between suckling and asking questions, did she like her honeymoon destination? She did, very much. Was she happy with the way their wedding turned out? She was. It was perfect. Was she happy to be Mrs. Anthony Rawlings? She was. How happy? How pleased? How grateful? Eventually they made their way to the king-sized bed. Even with the ceiling fan and sea breeze they both dripped with moisture. * Before Tony joined his wife in midday slumber, he watched her sleep. She was exhausted, yet she had just gone with him to the other side of heaven. After all of the sex they’d experienced, it was difficult to believe it could get better, but it did. Lying on the bed she emitted warmth and the most amazing scent. He gently moved her hair from her moist shoulders and revealed her sensuous neck and beautiful face. Tenderly he kissed her lips, tasting her sweetness. Even in slumber he saw her smile. That night they dined on the deck by torchlight, overlooking a magnificent horizon, and watching the sun settle into the ocean. The chefs created an amazing dish from fresh seafood, organic fruits, and vegetables all from the islands. This dish included green pacific lobster and fresh snapper. They also chose wine from an extensive list. After dinner they strolled hand in hand along the beach, feeling the soft powdered sand beneath their feet. The humidity decreased with the setting of the sun as the breeze created the perfect temperature. Their only light came from the moon as its rays glistened off the water. Others had been on the same beach and stayed in the same bure, but it felt as though they were the first. * The days merged together; waking to the sounds of tropical birds and sea breezes, going onto one of the decks, drinking coffee, and eating breakfast. Next, they would dress in bathing suits, walk the beach, and swim in the lagoon. Or perhaps lounge by the pool or in the pool. They would eat lunch and then resume their busy relaxation schedule. The mornings and evenings would have cool breezes, but the middays were steamy and tropical. They discussed their options for activities and decided together how to spend their days. They utilized the boat and captain on multiple occasions. He took them snorkeling and they learned that different times of day brought out different aquatic life. One evening, at sunset, they floated while all around them dolphins jumped and played. If the captain hadn’t warned them, Claire may have tried to touch one. They seemed so close and tame. The captain told them to be careful, appearances can be deceiving. That seemed like good advice. On a few occasions the captain took them to uninhabited islets only accessible by boat. The chefs would prepare a special lunch complete with fresh fruit and wine. And on the completely secluded beach, with a blanket and their picnic basket, Tony and Claire would find some way to spend the hours before the captain returned. Claire looked at all the clothes Catherine packed. She literally spent her days in bath robes, bathing suits, beach covers, and a sundress for dinner. There was no need to wear clothes or any occasion to do so. Actually, they spent a great deal of their time without any clothing. Situations wouldn’t usually start that way: a swim in the lagoon, sunbathing on the beach, or a night swim in the pool; but would often conclude that way. The sun brought back Claire’s bronze skin from summer. It started to subside with the beginning of autumn. Her accident accelerated the process, leaving her complexion pale. Tony told her she looked beautiful, the fair complexion made her eyes standout, the emerald green more intense. Seeing herself now, she believed the tanned skin with the blonde hair looked healthier. Her eyes still looked prominent. If she needed to be blonde, she liked herself better with a tan. Unlike her tan during the summer, this one lacked lines. Other than the staff, Tony and Claire didn’t see anyone during the entire ten-day stay. They were completely secluded and tucked away from the world. Christmas came and went. They wished each other a merry one, but there were no evergreens or snow. To Claire that was wonderful. She would take warmth and sunshine over cold and snow anytime. Besides, there were plenty of decorations at home for the wedding. Tony apologized for not having a gift for her on Christmas morning. She told him it made her happy. He had given her too many gifts; besides, the honeymoon was her gift and she loved it. She repeatedly explained she didn’t care about monetary things. The more she protested the more Tony pointed out the advantages. He wanted her to realize she had it all and the ability to get anything else. The world was hers for the asking. The tropical climate was well known for its fruit, and the chefs made it available at all times. There were papayas, pineapples, bananas, avocados, pears, mangoes, and limes. They prepared them in salads, side dishes, entrees, and constantly available fresh. Together the newlyweds learned how incredibly sensual fruit could be. Tony teased Claire’s lips with the sweet aromatic juice of a freshly cut pineapple or papaya. Gently placing it on her tongue, closing her eyes, she would suckle the juice from his fingertips. Often as the fragrant fruit passed her lips, the juices dripped down her chin. Gallantly, Tony would attempt to remove the sugary nectar with his tongue. At times he’d accidentally drop the sticky fruit and it would fall on Claire’s breasts or stomach. He’d then eat it directly from her bare skin. The result was sultry and exhilarating. The outdoor shower was an excellent steamy setting to wash away the tacky, clammy sweet liquids; however, it always began a new adventure.
Consequences Consequences Page 78 On more than one occasion he tested her endurance. His encouragement was always gentle, affectionate, and sensual. At times his physical touch caused such erotic convulsions she felt she would never experience such a high again. And, then she would. Claire contemplated Emily’s question the night before her wedding. If he were this unquenchable at forty-five, she shuddered to think how he had been at twenty-five. Tony mentioned on multiple occasions he was thrilled to have Claire as his wife, but with this title came responsibility. She had done well most of the time in the past. Now, it was different. She was no longer an enigma or a rumor; she was Mrs. Anthony Rawlings. Her actions, words, and appearance reflected directly upon him. He loved her and wanted her as happy as she was here in paradise, but the real world was coming. He wanted her prepared. For ten days of complete togetherness, no possible threat of the outside world, chance of public failure, opportunity for breaking rules, or risk of negative consequences, Claire enjoyed the light hue in Tony’s eyes. She gave herself freely and kept him satisfied. She found a place of contentment with her situation and happiness in her decisions. Sometimes while lounging, she would think about the out Tony offered in Central Park. She wondered would she be happier? Where would she be? And the biggest unanswered question, would he really have let her go? Then she would open her eyes and see a lush tropical paradise, incredibly handsome generous husband, and recognize her decisions led her to this consequence. Thursday afternoon, December 30, Mr. and Mrs. Rawlings rejoined Eric at Tony’s plane in Nadi. This time they traveled back in time, arriving back in Iowa City Thursday night. Glistening under a blanket of white snow, the house looked regal as they approached. The decorations were gone, but the houselights shone upon the brick and river stone facade. It was magnificent and welcoming. Paradise was just that, but now they were home. There is a wisdom of the head, and a wisdom of the heart. —Charles Dickens Chapter Thirty-Two ‡ Samuel thought it a farce, the nightly meal with everyone present, his parents, wife, and son. Yes, they lived in the same house, but the formal meals seemed pretentious. It reminded him of the TV show Dallas with Nathaniel the reigning omnipotent patriarch. Amanda looked to her husband as the dinner concluded. Samuel leaned over and affectionately kissed his wife’s cheek. “I need to speak to my father for a few minutes. I’ll be upstairs in a little while.” She smiled. “All right, I’ll be waiting.” “I won’t be long.” He saw the unspoken question in his wife’s eyes. Then he whispered, “I’ll fill you in later, I promise.” Amanda’s eyes smiled, as she looked into Samuel’s face. In a family like theirs, so much had to be said without words, they all knew the rules. Nothing was ever questioned in front of Nathaniel. Samuel was thankful Amanda was willing to deal with her father-in-law’s rules. Having each other made it worth it; Amanda and Samuel adored one another. “Anton and I will be upstairs.” Their son, home from boarding school, watched his parents. “I’ll be up in a minute, Mother, I need to do something.” Amanda smiled at her husband and son. Anton had grown so much during the past semester. Only fifteen, he stood half a foot taller than her and was still growing. His eyes could shine, but on occasion they also showed his grandfather’s darkness. His parents wanted more than anything to keep that blackness away. Amanda nodded. “All right, maybe we can watch a movie when we all get to our suites? I have some new videos.” She began the ascent up the grand stairs. Samuel straightened his neck and walked down the corridor toward his father’s office. The double doors stood as a barrier to the inflexible man within. Inhaling deeply, he formed a fist. Respectfully, he knocked on the grand double doors and listened for the words from within. “Come in.” Samuel knew this wasn’t going to go well. His father knew his displeasure with the recent direction of Rawls Corp. Now the recent positive slant and the unexpected shareholder acceptance were too much. These ideas from Jared Clawson had to stop. One idea reaped Rawls millions. The next cost them millions. Currently, the balance sheet was in their favor, but the risks and the possible legal repercussions weren’t worth the benefits. Stepping into the large office, Samuel silently prayed he would be able to make his father see his point of view. The man behind the desk sat bold and defiant. “I wondered how long it would take you to confront me.” “I didn’t think we needed an audience.” Samuel closed the double doors, unaware they were slightly ajar. “Always worried about others’ opinions”—Nathaniel grinned—“Obviously, a trait you received from your mother. I don’t give a damn what others think.” “Perhaps you should.” Samuel offered. “Speak your mind.” “You know my thoughts. You need to get rid of Jared Clawson. You need to stop these alternative means of financial gain.” Nathaniel’s laugh rumbled through the office. “I need?” “Father—I’m sorry—maybe need isn’t the best word. You should.” “You’re sorry? You’re a weak piece of shit!” Nathaniel stood and walked around his grand desk, facing his son. “Haven’t you learned anything? Don’t apologize! Apologies are for cowards, they make you appear weak.” Standing tall, Samuel continued his mission. “This situation is getting out of hand.” Nathaniel laughed again. “Out of hand—like we’re making millions upon millions, and that’s bad?” “We were doing well before, and it was legal.” “So what part of these profits don’t you like? Your wife’s enjoying the money and your son’s enjoying the best education. You, your wife, your son will never know what it’s like to be without. Tell me again what you don’t like.” “I believe they would’ve been happy with our earnings before. Amanda and Anton don’t need excess—neither do I”—Samuel watched his father turn back toward his plush leather chair—“And neither does Mother.” Changing directions, Nathaniel abruptly turned and struck his son’s left cheek. “Don’t you ever tell me what your mother needs. You have no idea what she’s been through. You’ve never lived as we did. Money is good for one thing—it buys what you need—what you want, and because of my decisions, you and Anton will never worry about money. Do not ever tell me what to do with my business and don’t apologize. I raised you better than that!” Samuel knew there wasn’t an answer for his father. He turned to walk away. “Where are you going—boy?” Nathaniel bellowed. “I’m going upstairs to my wife. Do you have a problem with that?” “You’re going upstairs—to the upper level of my house. No. I don’t have a problem—do you?” “No, Father, I do not.” Samuel exited the office. Before he shut the large doors, Samuel saw Anton’s expression as he hurried down the corridor. The teenager had witnessed the entire scene. Samuel hoped when they were up in their suite, they could talk about it. His son would know discussions were welcome. God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
Consequences Consequences Page 79 —Reinhold Niebuhr Chapter Thirty-Three ‡ The view through the windshield of Tony’s new Mercedes-Benz CLS-Class Coupe reminded Claire of space movies—the snowflakes were like stars being passed at warp speed. The snow, wind, and subfreezing temperature accentuated the reality that they were no longer in paradise. She settled into the heated seat, rubbed her leather gloved hands, and watched the snow covered terrain. The glistening sparkles would’ve been pretty if not for the blowing and accumulation. Tony didn’t mind. He was enjoying his new car, which had arrived at the estate while they were gone. To Claire’s relief, it handled amazingly well on snow. Although almost 8:00 PM, she felt as though she was finally waking—the jet lag was difficult to navigate. Both she and Tony had slept late following their arrival back to reality. Now as they headed to Tom and Bev’s for a New Year’s Eve celebration, she thought about their return. When they entered the estate, Catherine’s welcoming smile was the best sight Claire could imagine. They immediately embraced. The peaceful stillness of the mansion, barren of decorations and workers, was comforting. She and Tony ate a light dinner and fell sound asleep. It was during the morning, while more awake, they discussed their bedroom situation. Now that they’re married, should they move into one room? When Tony asked Claire’s opinion—a benchmark moment—she replied she liked maintaining two rooms. The most important thing was sleeping together, the location was irrelevant. Claire said she liked her suite. Truth be told—she did. Yes—she knew it had surveillance and memories—but it was also where she felt safe and at home. Maybe she’d come to terms with the recordings. She felt—well—secure. If Tony could watch her every move, he wouldn’t question her actions. She also mentioned, “Besides, my suite doesn’t match yours in terms of technology.” His had the big multifaceted screen and God only knew what else. “And you wouldn’t be able to access all your stock market data from here.” Since their big storm last summer, Claire hadn’t been required—or asked—to watch more videos, but she believed Tony did. She also believed he could access his videos and anything he wanted: from his office, bedroom, movie-theater, or anywhere else he chose. This hadn’t been confirmed, but somehow she suspected it was true. His reply was why, even now as they drove, Claire was still stewing. “I think that sounds reasonable, I don’t believe we’ll be running out of room anytime soon”—As Claire watched the honeymoon hue of Tony’s eyes fade into darkness, he continued—“however, regarding the technology you mentioned, I believe it would be prudent to maintain the past restrictions involving my office and bedroom. I don’t think you need unsupervised access to computers, Internet, or telephones.” “Tony, I’m your wife. What do you think I’ll do?” “I think it’s best to avoid possible glitches”—He lifted her chin—“Do you agree, or would you like to discuss it further?” Claire stared into his eyes, squared her shoulders, and straightened her neck. “I agree. Excuse me. I need to take a shower.” He released her chin and she walked away. She’d learned months ago she didn’t like glitches and pursuing a closed conversation wasn’t prudent; however, every bone in her body wanted to pursue it. She really didn’t care about the technology and didn’t want to access it. Claire wanted the ability to access it! Ten hours later, as they rode to Tom and Bev’s party, she contemplated the closed conversation. Now that she was Mrs. Anthony Rawlings, didn’t that give her some kind of clout? Some perks? Could she possibly revisit the subject without fear of retribution? As she debated this internally and watched the glistening flakes sparkle in the illumination of the Mercedes’ beams, she wondered if her life had changed. She was Mrs. Anthony Rawlings, but was that really different from being Ms. Claire Nichols? “Which do you prefer?” Tony’s question pulled Claire from her thoughts. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear your question.” “I asked if you prefer the view in Fiji over the frozen splendor of Iowa.” Claire laughed. “I don’t think you need to ask, do you?” “Probably not, but I’m trying to get you to talk.” “I’m talking.” “Yes, you are, but you haven’t really been talking since this morning. Would you like to discuss the cause before we get to Tom’s?” Claire thought about the question. Yes, she wanted to revisit the subject, but should she? “I don’t know.” Her feet were cold and the fashionable boots weren’t helping. She tried to get them under the blow of the Mercedes’ heater. “If I say yes, am I opening a closed subject?” “Yes, I guess you are. Is it worth it to you?” The interior of the car was warm, yet Claire pushed her gloved hands deeper into the pockets of her fur jacket and considered the implications. Did she really care anymore about technology? Was it worth pushing this discussion? She knew immediately the answer was no. “I think my decision is to not reopen the conversation; however, I want you to know—it isn’t the technology I long for—it’s the ability to access it.” Tony smirked. “Claire, your talents were wasted in meteorology. You would’ve made a wonderful businesswoman. You just said you didn’t want to pursue the subject, yet you managed to enlighten me about your motivation. Once again, I’m impressed.” His condescension didn’t help her disposition. The snow was coming at the windshield with enough velocity to make her feel as though they were flying thought space at hyper speed. Her lips pressed tightly into a line. Finally, she asked, “What kind of response do you expect?” “Honest, as always.” “Okay—seriously, who do I have left to contact? I don’t understand why you feel the restrictions are still necessary. God knows I know the rules.” The branches of the pines lay low with inches of heavy accumulating snow. Keeping her gaze to her right, Claire saw the ladened evergreens through the side window. They were nearing the Millers’ home and the sound of soft music filled the air. Tony didn’t respond. After all, this discussion was closed. The familiar sense of powerlessness filled Claire’s chest. She wanted the unspoken tension to end. She reached over and touched his arm. “I love you. I’ll do whatever you want or expect of me. I admit I’m not pleased by your verdict, but I’m okay. Let’s spend tonight with our friends and welcome the New Year.” At least she’d explained her view; that was something. The Millers’ home was magnificent. Beverly had fantastic taste in decor. It was ultramodern yet amazingly inviting. The unique style was a combination of stone, brick, and wood, accentuated with glass and chrome. Despite the numerous windows, the house was warm. They could watch the snow and wind and stay snug inside. Perhaps it was the fire in the fireplace or the wine in their glasses, but the gathering radiated warmth. Their friends happily celebrated their return. They wanted to know all about the honeymoon. Claire told them that it had been wonderful—Tony had literally taken her to paradise. Everyone complimented their wedding. They were a beautiful couple. Sue mentioned how beautiful their pictures were in the press release. Claire had forgotten about press coverage until that moment.
