She didn’t take his bait. Instead, she responded, “You’re right. It was very adult. I’d be glad to do whatever it is you tell me to do again. I believe I have a debt to repay. My goal is to make that happen sooner rather than later. Fulfilling my contract is the means to that end.”
He couldn’t fight the urge any longer. He had failed—and he’d never been so relieved. Swiftly, he pulled her against him and watched the fire rage. Oh, she smiled, said all the right things, but her damn eyes were fighting. It was better than he’d dared to hope. Bending down, his lips captured hers. Did he sense hesitation? If so, it was briefly lived. Suddenly, she was pressing back with equal force. He lifted her petite frame and held tight to her firm, round behind as her arms encircled his neck.
All of the trepidation he’d felt walking the gauntlet from his office to her suite morphed into unbridled desire. He didn’t want to make her watch movies; he wanted to make them. Would he watch them? Probably, but that wasn’t what he was thinking as he backed her against the beige wall and her legs encircled his torso. He was silently cursing her choice of attire. Tony would give his entire fortune for her to be wearing a skirt.
It didn’t take long and the damn white slacks and slippery blouse were history, lost somewhere on the floor of her suite. His suit followed, as Claire met him move for move. She was careful not to initiate, but whatever he suggested, whether it was verbal or otherwise, she met him head-on. As the afternoon progressed, he silently questioned if the Claire he’d hope to find was back, or if this was someone different, someone stronger? He wasn’t sure, and he didn’t waste too much time wondering.
About 6:30 PM, he used his cell phone to call the kitchen and have dinner brought to her suite. The flight had been long and their reunion exhausting. It was about 9:30 PM when he finally succumbed to sleep. In the moment before sweet nothingness prevailed and Tony slept better than he had in over a week, the satin strap he’d seen in the video feed crossed his mind. Taking one last glance toward Claire, he saw her bare shoulders and grinned. Tonight she wouldn’t be wearing a nightgown to sleep.
Tony’s shoes echoed against the marble floor of the long corridor as he made his way toward the front staircase. Inklings of crimson seeped into his vision as each step pounded more determined than the last. All day long, he’d thought about his reunion with Claire and her change in demeanor. As the day progressed he’d convinced himself not only of her acceptance of her situation, but the obvious pleasure she derived from it. Then, as if to prove him wrong, he went to her suite to retrieve her for dinner, and she was gone. Catherine had assured him that Claire knew dinner was at 7:00 PM. Where the hell was she?
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he was about to call out to Catherine, when Tony stopped. In the sitting room, waiting calmly, dressed appropriately for dinner, was Claire. He stood for a moment and watched as he remained hidden from her view. She had her shapely legs crossed at her ankles, just above her high heels and her hands rested serenely on her lap. The dress she’d chosen to wear was blue and sleeveless, accentuating her tanned, firm arms. She didn’t appear anxious, yet she wasn’t overtly relaxed—she just was. As he stared, the red faded from his view. Tony reasoned that Claire hadn’t disobeyed; it was only different. She’d never before taken the initiative to come down to dinner on her own, but there she was. Taking a deep breath, he straightened his suit jacket and stepped into the sitting room. Her eyes immediately went to his. “Good evening, Claire.”
She stood and walked toward him. “Good evening, Anthony.”
Offering his arm, she rested her small hand in the crook of his elbow, and they walked to the dining room. As they entered, he said, “I went to your suite expecting to find you there.”
Her painted eyes widened. “I apologize. I was told dinner would be in the dining room at 7:00 PM; I didn’t want to be late.”
As he pulled out her chair and she sat, Tony studied the ringlets of hair that teasingly grazed her neck. He reminded himself that the blonde hair emerging from her brown was an outward sign of the new woman he was creating. Her obvious emphasis of obedience was because it was what he demanded—the old Claire wouldn’t have done that, perhaps not even recently. This Claire knew her place, and after their glitch a week ago, she was being extra careful.
He sat and studied his creation. He wanted to believe her; yet the red loomed nearby. He found his businessman’s tone. “Your punctuality is duly noted. It seems my absence has helped you remember who’s in charge and what guidelines you are to follow.”
“Yes, your absence was advantageous on many counts.”
He stared. What the hell? Unable to form a rebuttal that would facilitate their dinner conversation, he waited.
Finally, she spoke again, “I believe it helped me recognize I owe you much, not just the money to repay my debt, but the confidence you’ve shown in me … the confidence to trust me with your intimate beliefs.” She paused. “I will not betray that confidence.”
While Cindy and Carlos entered the dining room and filled the table with food and drinks, Tony continued to stare. He looked for any sign of manipulation. Truly, what did she expect to gain? Once they were again alone, Tony said, “Claire, if you’re sincere, you never cease to amaze me. If, however, you’re playing me, you will regret it.”
“Tony, what would I gain by playing you? I’m aware my present, future, and release are solely in your hands. I’m sorry for my behavior before you left.”
He broke their gaze as he contemplated her words. Her eyes had been in agreement: he saw spirit, but not fight. Tony didn’t accept her declaration, but he didn’t rebuke it either. He changed the subject and they ate.
After dinner he escorted her out to the gardens for a stroll. As they approached the area in the path where he’d watch her disappear, he stopped. The underbrush was down trodden. He gazed into the trees. With the setting sun, the woods appeared dark and unknown, yet he knew she’d been there every day. Why?
She looked from the point in the border of the trees and then up to him. When she didn’t volunteer, Tony asked, “Tell me about your walks. How far do you go?”
“I’m not sure … in miles. At first, I just walked.”
“At first?”
“At first, I was trying to get a feel of your land and would go in different directions. I found the most beautiful clearings, right in the middle of the trees. There were flowers, wild flowers, and …” He listened to her words, but there was something else, a sense of discovery or wonder that he’d never heard or seen before—in anyone. They were just damn trees and bugs and things that existed wherever man had yet to build something truly spectacular; however, as she described the clearings, the insects, and animals, her eyes—no, her whole damn face—lit up like she was describing the most beautiful monuments in the world. “… that’s when I found the lake. Oh, Tony, it’s beautiful. It isn’t big, but it isn’t small. There’re fish and a beach. I’ve been taking books and reading and enjoying the sun.”
“A lake?” he questioned. “I remember seeing one, years ago, when I did flyovers of the land to help me decide where to have the house built.”
Her look of wonder morphed into one of blatant concern. “I-Is it still on your land?”
He took her hand in his. “Yes,” he reassured. “That’s still on my land. You haven’t broken my rules.”
Claire’s obvious relief was the final shove to push the red away. Maybe it was as Catherine said, he was used to her, or maybe he had missed her? Had she missed him? He didn’t want to ask. Even if he did ask, could he believe her answer? If she were truthful and the answer wasn’t what he wanted—it was better not to ask.
Tony reached into his breast pocket and brought out a black velvet box. “I found these for you in Italy. I thought they made a nice complement to your necklace.”
Claire hesitantly accepted the small box. Before she opened it, she peered up at him through her lashes. It struck him again how different she was from the other wo
men he’d dated. They would’ve never hesitated; they wanted gifts, the more the better. Then again, he and Claire weren’t dating—were they?
She opened the box and revealed the pearl earrings he’d found at a small jewelry store in Florence. He’d seen them in the window and immediately thought of Claire’s necklace. They weren’t exactly the same; however, the pearls were very similar and they were offset on white gold circles. He explained, “Your necklace is a cross, which is an X on its side. Now your earrings are O’s—X’s and O’s.” He smiled.
“Thank you, Tony,” she said as she closed the lid. “It was very kind of you to think of me during your busy trip.”
He placed her hand back into the crook of his arm, and they continued to walk about the garden. The sun was setting and he was home.
A single moment of misunderstanding can be so poisonous that it can make us forget the many loveable moments spent together.
—Melchor Lim
“I won that one,” Tony said, as he handed Tim the pool cue. “You’d better keep the winning streak going against Tom in this next game, or I may have to look for a new vice president.”
Tom heard Tony’s jovial tone and joined the fun. “It’s all right, Tim: Tony’ll give you a good reference,” he laughed, “as long as the company isn’t looking for a pool shark.”
Tim smiled. “Oh, I’m not worried. You haven’t seen my mad skills. I’m pretty sure I’ll be gainfully employed come tomorrow.”
Brent nudged Tony and whispered, “I like his confidence.”
“Yeah, the kid’s got something. I’m glad Courtney let you invite him.”
Brent shrugged.
Eli called from the poker table on the other side of the room. “Hey, who’s ready to lose some money? Chance and I have the chips ready.”
Brent cocked his eyebrow toward Tony. “I think it’s time to show them who’s the real master of the cards.”
“Maybe we should go easy on them?” Tony suggested.
“Nah,” they both said in unison.
When they neared the poker table, Tony hesitated. “Deal a few hands without me. I’m gonna go upstairs for a minute.”
“There’s more beer behind the bar,” Brent offered.
Tony looked down at his nearly full bottle. “I’m good. It’s your wife’s great cooking—I’m gonna go grab some of that cheese dip.”
Brent eyed him suspiciously. “Sure, you know the way, but hurry back after you check on your gal. We’ll be waiting.”
Tony stared at his friend for a moment. His gal? Not even close. “Companion.” That was the description he’d decided upon. “Whatever.” He shrugged. “I like cheese dip.”
With that, he set his beer on the nearest table and walked up the stairs. As he rounded the hallway toward the kitchen, the sound of voices stilled his progress. From his vantage, he could only hear the women. All at once, MaryAnn’s voice prevailed as she went on at some length about one of Eli’s clients—some movie star who apparently had a body to die for. Tony waited and listened as other voices added their opinions. With each passing comment that wasn’t Claire’s, Tony thought more and more about her restraint. He wasn’t sure that the woman he acquired in Atlanta would have remained quiet for so long. The longer her voice remained absent, the more his newfound pride gave way to a growing wave of panic. What if she wasn’t speaking because she wasn’t there? What if she’d found a way to leave—a way of escape? Would she do that?
Determinedly, he turned the corner, hoping for visual confirmation of her presence. Though she was sitting facing out to the backyard, he immediately saw her profile. Nestled in the corner of the wicker loveseat, she was tracing the rim of her wine glass with her finger and listening as everyone discussed the sexy movie star. As he watched, she kept her eyes focused on the women and attentively followed the conversation. For a split second he thought of the woman he met at the Red Wing. The two Claires seemed worlds apart. It wasn’t just appearance, although this Claire was toner, tanner, and blonder—all qualities he appreciated. The streaks of yellow that highlighted her hair were probably his favorite change; that’s why he’d offered to take her to Chicago. The sun would soon lose its intensity, and that blonde would need help. This Claire was also more refined and genteel: she didn’t burst into conversations or talk excessively. Well, she did talk more when they were alone, but the woman on the sunporch knew her role. Just as he was about to step further into the kitchen, he heard her name.
“So, Claire, what’s your opinion? He’s pretty hot, isn’t he?” There was something about Bonnie’s voice that grated on Tony’s nerves. He wished that Eli and MaryAnn could have made the trip without these tagalongs.
Tony saw Claire’s smile; it wasn’t as genuine as the one she flashed him earlier in the car, but that didn’t detract from its beauty. She had no idea he was watching or listening as she answered, “Oh, yes, he’s hot! But I haven’t seen the movie.” Looking toward MaryAnn, she apologized: “I’m sorry. I’m just not much of a moviegoer.”
Tony knew that was true now, but when he’d watched her in Atlanta, she used to go to the movies frequently with her friends. He remembered taking her to a movie—their private viewing—about a month ago. He quickly pushed the memory away. It wasn’t as pleasant as it had once been.
“Is Tony?” Bonnie pried. “Is he a moviegoer? What do you two like to do?”
Before Claire could answer, Sue chimed in. “Well, let me tell you—I saw the movie last week. It isn’t Tim’s kind of movie, so I went with a friend …”
Tony quit listening as an arm brushed his waist. Turning, he saw Courtney as she leaned toward him and whispered, “So, where did you find her?”
“What?”
Courtney stood back and looked him straight in the eye. “She’s not your type,” her serious expression turned joyous, “and that’s a good thing. I like her a lot.”
“You do? And what do you mean—my type? I didn’t know I had a type.”
“Well, you do, and most of them wouldn’t be caught dead sitting on my sunporch chatting. Claire’s sweet. I’ll admit, when Brent told me that you took her to New York for business, I was skeptical.” She put her hand on his. “I mean, you know we care about you. It’s just that, well, some of the women you’ve dated—”
Tony interrupted, “So, you’re now telling me that you don’t approve of my choices?” Though his words could be considered accusatory, his tone was soft and playful.
“Well, it probably isn’t my place, but someone has to keep you in line.” Her smile twinkled in her blue eyes. “Claire’s young, but I think she might be a keeper. I’ve never seen you like this before.”
“Like what?”
“Look at you. You’re up here checking on her. What’s the matter, are you afraid she’s gonna learn some of your dark secrets and bolt?” Courtney leaned closer. “Don’t worry, she’s safe with us.”
“I wasn’t checking on her. I-I was getting something to eat.” As soon as the words rolled off his tongue, he realized the food had all been put away.
“Oh, my mistake.” Her grin clearly displayed her disbelief of his cover story. “I guess it was your swooning and eavesdropping that had me confused.”
Courtney didn’t know how wrong she was, or perhaps why she was wrong. Tony was checking on her—her presence and her behavior. After all, it was the first time he’d allowed her this much freedom with anyone other than his house staff, and it was more than a bit disconcerting. Even when they were out at fundraisers, or she was shopping, she was never with anyone long enough to discuss her situation. He sure as hell didn’t want her discussing it now. He shifted his glance back to Courtney who’d quickly moved to the refrigerator. As she opened the large door, she asked, “Now, what was it that you wanted to eat?”
He knew he’d been caught; there was no reason to go on with the charade. Laughingly, he replied, “Don’t go to any bother. I think I’m fine.”
Claire must have heard the sound of their
voices; when he turned back toward the porch she was looking right at him. Her lips smiled; however, her eyes questioned—seeking his approval. Without thinking, he smiled. Claire’s shoulders relaxed as she placed her glass on the table, still looking in his direction, and started to stand. Shaking his head, he waved her off. Obediently, she picked up her glass and sat back against the cushion. He’d heard enough of the conversation to know she was performing well, and he didn’t want to interrupt the ladies’ discussion.
When he looked back at Courtney, she was staring at him.
Before she could speak, he said, “Um, I’m going back downstairs.”
“Yes, you do that. I hope you liked your snack.”
If it were almost anyone else, Tony would have been upset—but not with Courtney. He truly did value her and Brent’s friendship. When he told Claire they were some of his closest friends, he’d been sincere. There was something about Courtney that lit up a room. While others seemed nervous or apprehensive in Tony’s presence, she never did. He admired her for that.
Walking toward the lower level, he thought about Courtney’s assessment of Claire. It both puzzled and pleased him. He’d been apprehensive about bringing Claire to this barbeque—not that he doubted her ability to perform; over the past almost six months she’d improved exponentially. It was more a concern that Courtney would see through the facade. The fact that she didn’t and she approved of Claire was food for thought.
He entered the lower level just in time to watch Tim lift his pool cue and point. “Eight ball, corner pocket.”
Seconds later, the black ball bounced from one bumper to the next, successfully avoiding the scattered striped balls, and fell effortlessly into the corner hole. Shaking his head, Tom said, “I believe I’ve just been schooled by the schoolboy.”