Make Me: Twelve Tales of Dark Desire

by Aleatha Romig

  “Thank you, Jan. I’m sorry you have to work on Thanksgiving,” Claire offered, as Jan poured her coffee.

  “It’s all right, miss. I’m looking forward to having guests this afternoon for dinner. We rarely entertain here.”

  “Guests? I’m sorry. If Mr. Rawlings mentioned guests, with the excitement of our engagement, I’ve forgotten. Do you remember who’s joining us for Thanksgiving dinner?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t believe he told me names. I know there’ll be two, and they’re scheduled to arrive at 1:30 PM.” Jan convinced Claire to eat an English muffin and grapefruit. After breakfast, Claire went to Tony’s office door and heard him speaking. She may be his fiancée, but interrupting him uninvited in his office didn’t seem like a good idea. Perhaps some rules would change, but she knew if they did he would choose which rules and when.

  Claire went back to their bedroom, showered, and thought about how glad she was she’d bought new clothes. If she needed to be the perfect companion for some business associates, she felt better in well-fitting clothes.

  She chose a black pair of wool slacks and a pink knit sweater from Neiman Marcus. The black boots she decided to wear had high heels; Tony wouldn’t seem as tall. Dreamily, she thought about fuzzy socks and her new hoodie—being Mrs. Rawlings would teach her to keep up appearances.

  Actually, being Claire Nichols taught her that.

  As she straightened her hair, Claire marveled at the new even lighter shade. The auburn showed through enough to be considered low lights, but she was definitely now a caramel blonde. Although Catherine packed many pieces of Claire’s new jewelry, she wanted to wear her grandmother’s necklace and the O earrings Tony brought her from Europe. She shook her head as she remembered the scene in the gardens that seemed so long ago. Once she was completely dressed, she relaxed on the bed and let her mind wander.

  I’m going to marry Tony. I’m going to marry Tony in four weeks. I need a wedding dress. I need to call Emily. There are guests coming to dinner. Perhaps after dinner I can approach the Emily subject with Tony. Where will we marry? Who will we invite? Suddenly, a nice destination wedding anywhere, seemed like a good idea.

  Her mind went from the wedding to Thanksgiving. She could hardly believe it was truly Thanksgiving. She’d arrived at Tony’s house on March 20. Now she’d be eating Thanksgiving dinner with him and some associates and planning her wedding. She imagined drowning in chocolate sauce, too much of a good thing!

  As a means of escape she let her mind float to childhood Thanksgivings. They usually went to her grandparents’ home, where Grandma made all the traditional foods. She remembered helping her grandma and mother bake pies. At Thanksgiving they usually had pumpkin, apple, and sometimes pecan and always too much food. Even when she lived with Emily and John, she baked pies and helped Emily with cooking. Part of her wanted to go down to the kitchen and offer to help; however, she instinctively knew it wouldn’t be appropriate.

  Claire was somewhere deep in her memories when Tony entered the bedroom wearing slacks and a burgundy ribbed turtleneck sweater that looked wonderful stretched across his broad shoulders and chest. He wore suits so often—Claire liked seeing him in something other than a jacket and tie. He smiled and came closer. “Good morning, my fiancée.” He kissed her lips. “How are you feeling today?”

  Claire propped herself up. “Good morning, to my fiancé, I feel well. I was just thinking about Thanksgivings when I was young. Did you eat all the traditional Thanksgiving foods when you were young?”

  Sitting next to her on the edge of the bed, his eyes darkened. “Claire, don’t talk about the past. We have a future ahead of us, let’s look ahead.”

  “I’m sorry, I guess I’m reminiscing”—she touched his arm—“Tony—who’s coming to dinner?”

  “First, let me tell you…”—suddenly, his voice brimmed with excitement—“I’ve been on the telephone all morning. Patricia is going to contact Shelly, and a public statement regarding our engagement will be released tomorrow. Also, you have an appointment tomorrow at a very exclusive bridal boutique in Manhattan for a wedding gown. They’re expecting you, the future Mrs. Anthony Rawlings. They want to meet your every need.” He kissed her lips and continued to hold her gaze with his chocolate brown eyes. “I want you to have the wedding and the dress of your dreams. Patricia will also choose a wedding planner and coordinator to meet with us when we return to Iowa. Since Christmas is on a Saturday, the wedding will be December 18, which too is a Saturday. I hope you don’t mind, but with the wedding only three weeks away, I decided to have it at the estate. Now we don’t have to worry about booking a place, and security is already set. We just need to decide how many guests and where on the estate to hold the ceremony and reception. I did reach Catherine. She’s thrilled and told me to tell you so.”

  Claire felt inundated—information overload! She laid her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes. “Maybe this is all happening too fast.” Tony didn’t say anything, but when she opened her eyes she saw the change in his expression and reached for his arm. “Tony, it isn’t that I don’t want to marry you, I do, but three weeks, that seems very rushed.”

  He scooped her into his arms. “I promise you, money can make anything happen. Don’t worry about it. We’ll marry on December 18 and it will be amazing.”

  “I just worry about disappointing you.”

  “Claire, this is your wedding. I want you to be happy. I also know you’re not back to yourself. I don’t want you to overdo. Just enjoy all the things your money can buy and watch the wedding take shape. It’ll be spectacular.”

  “My money can’t buy us a piece of gum.”

  He laughed and kissed her. “My dear, in three weeks and two days you’ll be able to buy a gum factory if you want. I want you to share all that I have. You’ll have everything the world has to offer.”

  Claire struggled with the meaning of his words. “Tony, I don’t want your money. I haven’t done anything to deserve part of your fortune. I’m happy to share your name—I don’t need any more.”

  “My love, you’ve done more than you’ll ever know, and I’m pretty sure you’ll do more.” While he leaned down to kiss her, his hands were busily undoing the buttons on her slacks.

  “Don’t we have guests coming?”

  “They aren’t due until 1:30 PM. I’m pretty sure we can be successful—multiple times—before then.” He said with a sultry grin, as he removed her slacks. Straddling her legs he removed his sweater and undid his slacks. She watched his seductive smile and his muscular chest as it moved with breaths of anticipation. The scent of his cologne penetrated her senses, and she knew if he bent down she’d be able to taste it on his neck.

  “But, Tony—” He put his finger to her lips.

  “Shhh…I have better things for those beautiful lips to do than talk.”

  They left the bedroom together just before 1:30 PM. As they approached the steps Tony’s stance straightened as he said, “I’m sure you realize, but I’m going to say it for the sake of clarification—just because we’re engaged, divulging private information is still forbidden.”

  Claire looked up at his eyes and wondered what he possibly thought she would say to his associates. “I promise, I know that.” They continued to the front stairs, and muffled voices came from the sitting room below. “Now who am I meeting?” As she asked, the voices came into range, her eyes moistened, and she looked to Tony for confirmation. “Is it really them?”

  He gently held her shoulders. “Yes, I invited them to surprise you for Thanksgiving, but now you have even bigger news to share.”

  “I can tell them about our engagement?”

  He smiled. “Of course, didn’t you say you wanted Emily to stand with you?” She wanted to run down the stairs or cry out, but his grip on her hand tightened. “Claire, follow my rules.”

  “I will”—she replied, and obediently fell into step with her fiancé.

  When the soles of their shoes hit the m
arble floor, John and Emily turned toward them. They’d been enjoying the view from the sitting room windows. Her family looked just as Claire remembered—John tall with dark blond hair and playful blue eyes, and Emily with the Nichols brown hair, cut short and sassy, and Claire’s sparkling green eyes. Claire ran to Emily and hugged her.

  “I didn’t know you were coming. It’s a wonderful surprise. Oh, Emily, it’s so good to see you!”—Then she hugged John—“And, John! Oh, let me introduce you to Anthony.”

  Emily told Claire it was good to see her, too; however, she and John made eye contact, sharing an expression of concern—Claire looked so different. Nonetheless, they proceeded politely as Claire made introductions, “Anthony, this is my sister Emily, and, Emily, this is my fiancé, Anthony Rawlings.” Tony emitted charm as he and Emily shook hands.

  “Very nice to meet you, Mr. Rawlings.” Emily’s seemed to slowly make sense of Claire’s words. She looked at her sister quizzically, and asked, “Did you just say fiancé?”

  Claire continued with introductions, “And Anthony, this is Emily’s husband—my brother-in-law, John Vandersol. John, please meet my fiancé, Anthony Rawlings.” The two men shook hands and exchanged greetings.

  Gracious as ever, Tony said, “Please, we’re about to be family; call me Anthony.”

  Claire smiled and they all sat down to chat before dinner. Jan entered the room to offer hors d’oeuvres and drinks. Claire showed Emily her engagement ring and told them about Tony’s romantic proposal in Central Park. John and Emily were speechless—perhaps in shock. Tony was very attentive, holding Claire’s hand, putting his hand on her shoulder or thigh as she rambled on—cautious to not divulge any forbidden or personal information.

  During Thanksgiving dinner, Claire learned Emily had attempted to reach Tony around her birthday. Emily didn’t know what else to do. She had no way to reach Claire, and she’d seen pictures of the two of them together in magazines. Apparently, it wasn’t easy to get calls or e-mails through to Anthony Rawlings. Just recently, an e-mail finally reached him, and he called. It was during that telephone conversation—about a week ago—that Anthony invited them to New York City for dinner.

  Claire apologized for her inconsiderate behavior. She should have stayed in touch better. Life had been a whirlwind since she started working with Tony. The important thing was that they were together now. Claire asked her family if they were driving home to Troy or staying in the city. John said they decided to spend some time in the city. After all, it was a three hour drive home.

  Tony then surprised Claire again. “Well, Emily, Claire has a reservation tomorrow at a bridal boutique in Manhattan. I’m sure she’d love to have you join her to look at wedding dresses.”

  Trying not to stare at Tony, Claire looked to Emily. “Yes, I’d love to have you join me, if the two of you don’t have plans.”

  Emily looked at John. “Of course, I’d like to help you.”

  “Emily” Claire proposed—“I would also like you to be my matron-of-honor. Would you please stand with me at our wedding?”

  “You want me? Of course, I will.” Emily sounded cautiously enthusiastic. “But, did you say the wedding will be the eighteenth of December?”

  “Yes, it will. That’s all the more reason to find some dresses soon.” Claire smiled at her sister. “Hopefully they’ll have some bright, pink, puffy bridesmaid’s dresses.” Emily laughed.

  From her peripheral vision Claire saw Tony’s fleeting expression of disbelief. She turned to her fiancée and smiled. “Tony, it’s a long-standing joke. Emily made me wear a green dress at her wedding. Since pink is my favorite color, I’ve long threatened to have her wear the puffiest, bubblegum pink dress I could find when I married.”

  He exhaled and smiled, obviously relieved she wasn’t serious.

  Once they finished eating, Tony invited John to the living room for the 4:00 PM football game. He asked the ladies if they’d like to join them, but Emily said she would rather catch up with her sister. Tony kissed Claire before leaving the room. It appeared very sweet, but Claire saw the warning in his eyes.

  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, wou
ld 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.