“I MIGHT BE LATE. HAD AN ISSUE THIS MORNING, BUT THINGS ARE IMPROVING.”
Claire knew he wouldn’t be happy about her possible tardiness. Nonetheless, remembering the overwhelming sickness, she decided Tony’s darkening gaze ranked below projectile vomiting and keeping Amber’s toast down on her current list of concerns.
Covering her now cold body with blankets, Claire felt her stomach growl. How could she possibly be hungry after what she’d just experienced?
At 9:51 AM Claire eased her Honda Accord into the parking lot of the Patio Café in Redwood Shores. She wasn’t late. Her reflection in the rearview mirror frowned back through the glass. Even the blush and lipstick didn’t disguise her pallor. On the bright side, she’d kept Amber’s toast down, plus a banana, and despite the paleness, she truly felt better.
During her drive to Redwood Shores, Claire fought the urge to turn around and miss this mandatory meeting. Once again, it was fear that propelled her. This time, it wasn’t the fear of physical punishment. It was the fear of Tony showing up at Amber’s. He was right; Claire’s concern for others was her weakness. Although she dreaded seeing him, she wrestled with fleeting positive thoughts regarding her ex-husband.
Claire reasoned it was because of their charade last night. During the evening, as much as she hated to admit it, she actually relaxed and enjoyed Tony’s company. Guiltily, she thought of the picture Harry printed—the one of Tony kissing her hand after his speech. The look on her face exposed her momentary ease and affability. No wonder Harry was upset.
Upset or not, Harry’s words still hurt. They may have been brought on by a combination of jealousy and liquor, but that didn’t make them any less painful. How could Harry honestly feel her affections could change so dramatically in six hours?
The thoughts of Harry turned into thoughts of Emily, John, and Courtney. Her magnitude of missed calls and messages on her iPhone were mostly from Harry, Amber, and Emily. There was also one from Meredith. Claire decided that should wait until after she spoke with Tony. Her work phone held missed calls and text messages from Courtney. Since she and Harry spoke last night and Amber wanted to wait, Claire spent a good part of her morning talking to Emily, John, and Courtney.
Apparently, Tony’s press release hit the airways last night at approximately 7:30 PM, PST. Emily and John saw it around 10:30 PM in Indiana. Courtney said Brent read it on his news feed about 9:30 PM in Iowa. Needless to say, they were all relieved to hear from her this morning. That being said, once the relief passed, indignation reigned.
Courtney remained the most supportive. She understood Tony’s persuasive nature and promised continued support. Claire appreciated Courtney’s constant concern, despite her stress regarding her son’s upcoming wedding. Understandably, she and Brent weren’t happy about Tony’s claims of ensuring Claire’s pardon. Claire assured Courtney that she didn’t believe him, and she’d never tell him, or anyone else, who her actual saviors were. Even Jane Allyson didn’t know.
Claire repeated her honest account of the entire evening with everyone. There were a few omissions. Courtney was the only one to hear about the kiss, and no one learned about her dream—that wasn’t. She wasn’t ready to admit that reality to herself.
After everything she’d been through, Claire believed honesty, no matter how difficult to face, was her greatest ally. Remembering the isolation of Iowa and being Mrs. Anthony Rawlings, she vowed that despite the forced charade, she wouldn’t allow Tony to distance her closest supporters. She would do whatever was necessary to keep her loved ones safe, as well as their businesses. Privately, she promised never again to deceive the people around her.
Despite, or possibly because of, Claire’s truthfulness, Emily was livid. A few times during their tense conversation, Claire considered hanging-up on her sister. After all, Claire wasn’t feeling top-notch after the whole food poisoning thing, and having her sister’s condescending, accusatory tone loudly ringing through her phone didn’t aid her recovery.
Walking along the sidewalk toward the café, Claire lifted her face to the breeze. Wisps of loose hair blew around her face as she inhaled. The fresh air coming off a small inlet from San Francisco Bay was cool. Her blue jeans and blouse were perfect for the late spring air. Yes, if she were in Indiana or Iowa this late in May then it would be much warmer. Nonetheless, she was slowly acclimating to West Coast weather.
Parked three cars down, Claire saw a gray sedan with a man inside reading a paper. She hadn’t spoken to Phil since San Diego. With Tony near, she decided this wasn’t a good time to chat.
Phil Roach was another of Tony’s intrusions that somehow, over the past three months, she’d come to accept. Was she being too compliant, as Emily said? Claire didn’t believe so. She truthfully felt she was resisting Tony’s control much better than she ever had. Not staying with him last night and not allowing him to visit the condominium this morning were two examples of her non-compliance. Claire contemplated her strength, or lack of, as she stepped into the busy restaurant.
The large glass doors led directly to a counter. The Saturday morning crowd filled the bustling café with people waiting to order food. The hum of voices filled her ears as the various aromas filled her lungs. She tried desperately to ignore the returning nausea as she made her way to a tall two person table near the window. A ceiling fan above the table provided a continual cool breeze, calming her queasiness. Moments later, she glanced toward the doors and saw Tony walking casually toward her.
Involuntarily, she smiled. He looked so laid-back and informal in jeans and a button down shirt. She noticed how his crisp shirt was pressed and untucked. His hair was perfect, and his face freshly shaven. Her eyes went back to the jeans. Claire always liked Tony’s long legs in blue jeans. When his dark eyes met hers, her breathing stopped. She immediately judged his expression. His cheeks rose and a small smile came to his lips. Claire exhaled with a sigh of relief. She didn’t want more confrontations. If this charade needed to proceed then she wanted to learn the specifics and go on with her life.
Unexpectedly, he bent down and kissed her cheek before taking the seat across from her. Claire’s eyebrows rose suspiciously as she eyed the man across the table. He responded with a mischievous grin and crooned. “Good morning, Claire. It’s nice to see you aren’t late.”
His pleasant greeting eased her tightly strung nerves; she chuckled. “Yes, you see there was this man I used to know. He was a real stickler for punctuality.”
“Really? It seems as though he must have been a good influence. His persistence appears to have paid off.” Tony’s brown eyes glittered, reflecting the sunlight through the windows.
“I’m not sure about his influence, but insistence would better describe it; however, since you mentioned it, persistence was something he’d definitely mastered.”
“Hmm, sounds like my kind of man. I’d like to meet him.”
Claire shook her head good-naturedly. “No, I don’t think you’d like him.”
Tony’s eyes opened wider. “You don’t?”
“No, he has real control issues. You two would probably clash.”
“Because… you think I have control issues?” This time, Tony’s eyebrows rose.
Claire leaned forward—as if telling a secret. Her eyes sparkled with the lightheartedness of their conversation. “I hate to be the one to break it to you… but yes, you do.”
Tony’s laughter filled her ears. Finally, he asked, “Don’t you want something to eat?”
“No, not really, I ate earlier.”
“I’ll get us some coffee then.”
Although she usually loved coffee, the idea didn’t sound good on her recently emptied stomach. “Could you get me an iced tea instead?”
Tony eyed her skeptically. “Sure, unsweetened, correct?”
Claire nodded.
When Tony returned with their drinks, they began to discuss this public reconciliation. Although the café bustled with patrons, their voices remained low and pr
ivate. “Claire, I’m pleasantly surprised by your accepting attitude this morning.”
She sipped her tea. “Don’t mistake it for pleasure. I don’t like being bullied into this situation; however, I see signs of compromise. It gives me hope.”
“Compromise?”
“In your own way, you’re trying to be accommodating. If you weren’t then you would’ve tried to stop me from leaving last night, or you would’ve insisted on riding with me. I see that.”
Tony nodded, considering her words; then he asked, “Hope, what do you hope for?”
“That this won’t last long. That we can remain friends and be honest with the world.”
As she spoke, clouds darkened his gaze. “I see.” He took a drink of his coffee. “I hope… you change your mind.”
“See what I mean? That’s progress. I honestly don’t intend to change my mind; however, I’ll admit, when you aren’t being a controlling ass who’s threatening my friends or my friends’ company…” She smiled coyly. “…you can be charming.”
“Thank you, my dear.” He snorted, obviously shocked by her candor, and replied, “When you’re being bold and cheeky, that spark in your gorgeous green eyes makes my initial irritation fade. At that point, I see you for what you truly are.”
“Oh really, what am I?”
“Sexy as hell.” He leaned closer, his words slowing to a sultry tenor, “And when you’re being reticent and genteel, I find you irresistible.”
She felt her insides quicken and her cheeks blush—just like in the picture. “Well, then I guess I can behave in any manner without fear of consequences.”
“As long as you are doing it with me, my affection will prevail.”
Claire shivered at the possible implications of his words. Playfulness left her tone. “Tony, I don’t intend to be with you all the time. I’m not moving back to Iowa.”
“I’m a busy man, Claire; I can’t be flying to California every other day.”
“Then we won’t be seeing each other every other day. By the way, when do you need to be back?”
Dryly, he said, “I have a private jet. I don’t have a schedule to maintain.”
“I’m aware of your jet, but I thought you might have meetings or a date or something.”
The clouds returned. “I won’t be having any dates with anyone except you. That was the point of the news release.” His voice lowered as his tone hardened, “And neither will you.”
She sat straighter. “This is what we need to discuss; define date.”
His hesitant expression glared. His gaze loomed shades darker than moments before. “A date is the going out in public of a man and a woman.” He scanned the café. “I suppose it could be a man and a man or a woman and a woman; we are in California.”
“Well, that happens in Iowa, also, but my point is, two people can go out in public and be friends, not dating.”
“I would prefer you didn’t.” Before she could choose the words to her reply, he rephrased, “It would not be publicly acceptable. So the answer is no.”
Trying to keep her voice low, Claire said, “I’m telling you; I’m not asking your permission.”
“This is not debatable.”
“Then what is?” She leaned across the table as indignation infiltrated her words. “Why are we even here, discussing anything at all? If it’s all predetermined, just lay out the ground rules.” She tried to keep her voice low and restrain her emotions. “That’s the way you operate. Things don’t change!” Moisture stung her eyes as tears threatened her facade of strength. She stared and waited for the explosion, but Claire knew it wouldn’t be overt. Their location was too public, perhaps a whispered clandestine threat.
Although his eyes remained dark, the tips of Tony’s lips moved upward. He reached out and held the hands that lay on the table in front of him. “Yes, sexy as hell.”
Claire removed her hands, sat back against the chair, and pressed her lips together.
His tone lightened with a change of subject, “You know, I don’t think the cooler weather is good for you. You look pale. You need sun.”
“Thanks, I quite like the West Coast.”
Tony watched, presumably waiting for more outbursts. After a few moments, he said, “I concede. Some things are debatable. I would make you move to Iowa if I could. Don’t get me wrong. It isn’t that I’m incapable. It’s that I want you there of your own free will, so that move is debatable.”
“Not debatable. I’m not going.”
“Now you see. We each have issues where we don’t want to budge. Let’s discuss public events.”
Claire settled back and listened. Tony talked about the different public events and business trips he had scheduled in the near future. He offered transportation, private accommodations, and money to purchase appropriate attire. He also discussed acceptable behaviors while separated. In many ways, it reminded Claire of sitting in his office, listening to the ground rules of living in his house. The memories made her feel uneasy. With time, she felt her pulse increase and the temperature of the room increase. The breeze from the fan remained but no longer felt refreshing.
It was then she noticed the food behind her. The man must have had an entire side of pork. His plate overflowed with bacon, and the aroma filled the space around their table.
Although Tony was still talking and Claire had been attentively nodding, she abruptly stood. “Tony, I can’t do this. I need to leave.”
His shock quickly morphed to irritation. “What?”
“No, not this us. This here. I need to go outside.” With that, she grabbed her purse and walked briskly toward the door—away from the mound of pork. Each step eased her discomfort. Nonetheless, it wasn’t until she stepped into the sunshine and felt the wind once again on her face that she could truly inhale.
Only steps behind her, Tony reached for her arm and spun her toward him. His expression changed immediately. The rage disappeared into a mixture of displeasure and concern. “What the hell was that?”
“I don’t know. I think I must have gotten food poisoning last night. How have you been feeling?”
“I feel fine. Is that what this just was, you not feeling well?”
“Yes, it was that bacon. It smelled horrid!”
Tony laughed. “I thought you liked bacon. Catherine used to have it for you all the time.”
Feeling better, Claire smiled. “I did. I do, I think. But, I was ill this morning. That’s why I thought I might be late.”
Concern won the race on Tony’s roller coaster of emotions. “You were ill? I could have come to you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “No. I don’t want you at Amber’s. It just isn’t right.”
“I’ve taken you to my friends. If that is truly your definition of Amber and her brother, then what’s the problem?”
There were so many things wrong. First, his friends reminded Claire of Brent and Courtney, people whom, just this morning, she’d spent over a half hour talking with on the phone. Next, she thought of Tony with Simon’s fiancée, and lastly—Harry. At this moment, she wasn’t sure how to define him, but having Harry and Tony together wouldn’t be good—no matter his definition.
“Are we done?” Claire asked.
“There are a few more things to discuss. How do you feel?”
“Better, the fresh air helps.”
“I saw a park not far away. Would you like to walk?”
Claire nodded. Truthfully, she wanted to go home, but walking was better than staying in that café. Tony gently grasped her hand. Conceding the loss of her appendage, their fingers intertwined. The casual contact radiated familiar warmth through her body. They began walking toward Bridge Parkway. Across the small inlet, they entered a haven of nature. Trees surrounded a large grassy plane with picnic tables and benches overlooking a lagoon. Scattered about were signs indicating a summer concert season. Everything pointed to warmer weather and blue skies for the future.
While they talked about their agreement, th
ey also chatted—not about anything in particular, just things. Surprisingly, it felt good and easy. As long as the conversation avoided Harry, Amber, and her incarceration, Claire found herself speaking without weighing each word. They laughed at children on the playground equipment and watched a man set up a camp to fish in the lagoon.
Claire tried to remember the last time she’d spent such a normal day with her ex-husband. It had been a long time. When Tony looked at his watch and saw that it was after 2:00 PM, he asked Claire if she were up to eating lunch.
“I think I can handle it, as long as there’s no bacon,” she said with a smile.
They walked back to Tony’s car and drove to a small diner with outside seating. When the waiter brought the menus, Claire perfunctorily left hers lying on the table. She couldn’t contain her surprise when Tony glanced her way and said, “Since you haven’t been feeling well, you’d better look and see what sounds appetizing.” It was the first time she’d ever ordered her own meal while with him. Maybe things do change?
By the time Tony took her back to her car, they’d made some compromises and found some common ground. In two weeks, she would join him in Chicago for meetings and dinners with investors.
Standing next to Claire’s car, Tony asked, “May I kiss you goodbye?”
“Is it a requirement of the news release and mandatory to keep my friends safe?”
“No.” He leaned nearer. “It’s because I would really like to kiss you.”
She found herself on the precipice of a very slippery slope, her figurative footing was difficult to maintain. While her mind debated, her body leaned into his chest, and her face tipped upward. His strong arms encased her, his hands found their way to the nape of her neck, and his fingers entangled her hair. They may have been in a parking lot, or perhaps the moon, but at that moment, neither one knew. The rest of the world disappeared.
The Consequences Series Box Set Page 95
