Claire walked toward the sitting area, refilled her glass, and sat. “What do you want to discuss?”
“You will discontinue your discussions with Meredith Banks and any further plans you’ve entertained regarding speaking with the media.”
She leaned back and smiled. “Will I now?”
“Don’t push me. I’m tired and suddenly not in the mood.”
“Well, I’d like to discuss something else.”
His neck tensed. “I would like to stay on topic.”
“Then it seems we’re at an impasse. Perhaps you should go. We can continue this another day—or not.”
“You’re not changing the subject.” Tony’s volume increased. “The nondisclosure of our relationship is non-negotiable.”
“I don’t recall signing anything—well, other than a blank napkin. We didn’t even have a prenuptial agreement, so I have no legal restraints on what I can and cannot disclose.”
Tony stepped closer. “Legal, no, but what about ethical or moral?”
“Did those concerns come into play during your acquisition or our relationship?”
“I have tried to explain—not at first, but they did.”
“Tony, I’m tired, too. I don’t have the energy to figure out your puzzles. I don’t plan on disclosing anything about your true identity to the media, if that’s part of your concern. I have, however, learned of many misconceptions regarding me during our relationship. I do plan on correcting those errors.”
“Why?” he asked.
She sat straight. “Because I can.”
Hearing his own words spewed back at him turned the metaphorical knife. Shit. How many times had he said the same thing to her?
Claire continued, “The world wants to know, and I’m willing to disclose.”
“It won’t happen.” He sat his glass on the table and leaned forward. “I came here to emphasize this is a waste of your time. Currently, my legal team is working diligently to stop any information regarding our marriage or relationship from public media. If anything appears on the Internet or anywhere else, a civil suit will immediately follow, against you, Meredith, and the offending sites.” He watched and waited. Red seeped and flowed, yet the woman before him appeared amused.
Finally, she retorted, “Well, at least this time you have the nerve to deliver the ultimatum in person, instead of sending Brent.”
His shoulders pulled back—damn. The knife had done a three-sixty. “I was angry about the plea.”
“You’ve made your point, but now it’s my turn.”
“Yes,” Tony quipped. “I recall, you did like your turn.”
Instead of taking his bait, she went on. “I want a promise from you.”
“What promise do you want from me?”
“I want a guarantee that the people in my life, my associates and friends, the people whom I’ve acquired aren’t in harm’s way.”
“My, Claire, you give me too much credit. I’m a businessman. I don’t have the ability to cause harm to anyone, much less those associated with you.”
“Simon, John… do these names mean anything to you? How about my parents, your parents? Are there more? I can’t seem to process right now.”
He bristled. How much did she know? “I don’t take responsibility for that entire list, and explain exactly what you’re requesting.”
“Actually, I don’t believe I’m requesting anything. I’m saying, beyond a shadow of a doubt, if anything happens to me, or my friends, or associates, my story and the truth behind our relationship will be made public. I will continue to work on the articles and stop production before everything is public; however, if anything happens to me, or my friends, everything will become public knowledge. You’re welcome to do damage control, but that’ll only be after the initial public response has been made and broadcast globally. As you know, once a perception is set, it’s difficult to change.”
He squeezed the stem of his glass. Through clenched teeth he confessed, “I don’t want you with anyone else. You’re mine and have been for a very long time.”
“That isn’t your choice. You sent me away!”
“No. You left; you drove out of our garage.”
Claire stood. “Tony, I’m done with this conversation. I’m tired; however, I have a few other demands.” Before he could respond to her candor, she continued, “John’s out of jail. I want his law license reinstated. You took it away—don’t deny it. Now, bring it back. I will consider that proof of your commitment to this agreement.”
“I never liked him.”
“I’m pretty sure the feeling is, and always has been, mutual. Nonetheless, he never deserved what you did to him.”
Tony walked toward the door. He was done, too—drained from an exhausting day and their exchange. He’d flown to San Diego to make his point; the ridiculous behavior with Meredith would stop. He hadn’t traveled to accept her petitions. Anthony Rawlings made demands; he didn’t receive them. That was how it had always been—not just with Claire, with everyone.
Claire’s question stilled his steps. “By the way, do you know who sent me the box?”
“Yes, my dear.” He gazed down into her questioning eyes, trying to block the green from registering. “That information wasn’t known by many. My list of candidates was quite limited. It didn’t take long to confirm my theory.”
She followed him to the door. The confidence she displayed only seconds earlier vaporized into the trusting woman he’d married—the one who knew that only he held the answers and only he made mandates. “Who?” she asked.
“Good-bye Claire—for now. May I have your hand?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”
He didn’t answer; instead, he held out his hand and waited. Reluctantly, she placed her right hand in his upturned palm. Tony bowed, touched his lips to her knuckles, and turned her hand over. “Close your eyes.” She obeyed. “Keep them shut,” he whispered. She nodded as he reached into the pocket of his slacks, brought out her grandmother’s necklace, and placed it into her hand. Closing her fingers, he squeezed. “My sign of commitment. End this stupidity with Meredith.” Kissing her closed fingers, Tony opened the door and stepped from her suite.
Exhaustion consumed him as he strode toward the elevators. It was nearly midnight in San Diego, and Tony had a three-and-a-half hour flight back to Iowa. He closed his eyes. This flying back and forth to the West Coast was already getting old, and he needed to be back to this part of the country for a keynote address in two weeks. Thank God, he had a private plane. Perhaps if his concerns over Claire’s depth of knowledge didn’t plague his thoughts, he’d be able to get some sleep.
Reunification: verb. To cause group, party, state, or sect to become unified again after being divided.
Though the San Francisco St. Regis Hotel was large and stately, Tony didn’t notice, and more importantly, he didn’t care. The charity gala taking place there was a fiasco and getting worse by the minute. Initially, he’d planned to attend to have an opportunity to speak with Derek Burke. It was all arranged. The CEO of Shedis-tics, Roger Cunningham, promised Burke’s presence. The only issue was Derek’s wife, Sophia. Tony wasn’t ready to come face to face with Sophia quite yet. He’d been to too many of her art exhibitions, and they’d crossed paths more times than he was sure she realized. Tony didn’t want her to have a revelation in the middle of a huge charity function.
That was why he’d ordered Mr. George, from the Palo Alto art studio, to send Sophia back to Provincetown. It was a legitimate story. Tony had spent a fortune on her paintings, and he wanted his purchases. He also wanted to see more of her collection. What neither Mr. George nor Tony expected was for Derek to fly with Sophia to the Cape and help her gather her collection. Together they’d managed to accomplish her mission in days instead of weeks. Now, at this ridiculously expensive Friday-night celebration, both Mr. and Mrs. Derek Burke were present and awaiting Anthony Rawlings.
If that weren’t enough to send Tony’s priva
te life into overdrive, there was plenty more. As was common practice, Patricia had requested the guest list for the gala. The Rawlings Industries’ security personnel customarily reviewed these lists prior to events. It was one of the many mundane steps that assured their CEO’s safety. This time the list was far from mundane. The name that caught Patricia’s attention was Claire Nichols.
When Tony read his ex-wife’s name, his figurative floor dropped out from under him. Not only was Claire attending, but she was being escorted by Harrison Baldwin; they were the official SiJo Gaming representatives. As luck would have it, SiJo Gaming and Shedis-tics shared a table. Tony’s head ached with the thought of Claire and Sophia at the same table. He wondered how that conversation would go. “My, you look familiar. Oh, yes, I painted your wedding portrait. How do you like it?” The coincidences were too numerous not to raise suspicion.
Tony made his decision. He would attend the gala, and he would escort Claire. He had no intention of being at the same function with his ex-wife and another man. It didn’t matter that he could have a damn Sports Illustrated swimsuit model on his arm; Tony was not sitting at the head table and looking out to a room of donors and seeing Claire with anyone.
He thought about calling her, discussing the event, and proposing his idea. It was a fleeting thought. After their conversation in San Diego, Tony didn’t believe that Claire was ready to willingly make the appropriate choice. According to Roach and his time-lapsed cameras, after Tony left Claire’s suite in San Diego, Baldwin showed up at her door after 3:00 AM with the police in tow. Tony understood; he would have done the same. What reassured Tony about Baldwin’s visit were the pictures that Roach took of the inside of Claire’s suite with the couch made up like a bed. Tony wasn’t happy that Baldwin spent two nights there, but those photos made it much better.
Since their meeting, Tony had asked Brent to start working on having John’s law license reinstated. It was a painful task. Tony didn’t like John, and helping him went against Tony’s nature; nevertheless, he told himself he wasn’t doing it for John—it was for Claire. He’d also signed Claire’s damn agreement and paid Meredith a stipend. Claire’s memoirs would stay hidden as long as her criteria were met. The agreement stated that Claire, her friends, and her family would remain safe—a rather broad statement. What if one of them stepped in front of a bus? Tony’s legal team reworded it to something more specific about questionable causes of harm or disappearance. The loophole in the agreement, the one about to be exploited, was the lack of specifics about harm done to a company.
Every company had at least one employee with a price. SiJo was no exception. The virus that infected SiJo’s network a few hours ago was essentially harmless. It was the public repercussions of such a breach that could be potentially damaging; whether that breach became public depended upon Claire’s response to Tony’s new declaration.
Against Shelly’s better judgment, she wrote a news release to Tony’s specifications. The release was ready to publish. Tony was just waiting for word of Claire’s arrival to the St. Regis. Once she was in the building and out of the range of media, news of their reunification would hit the wire.
Associated Press – May 24, 2013
Mr. Anthony Rawlings, CEO of Rawlings Industries, asks the public for patience at this difficult time. He believes that two years ago he and the world were deceived. Despite circumstances and appearances, he is now convinced that his ex-wife, Claire Nichols (Rawlings), was erroneously accused of attempted murder.
This realization came to Mr. Rawlings through a series of personal and private encounters with Ms. Nichols. Listening to instinct and following his heart, a combination of resources that have successfully helped to create his global empire, Mr. Rawlings is now certain of Ms. Nichols’ innocence.
In an effort to correct the wrongful prosecution by the state of Iowa, Mr. Rawlings attempted to reverse the ruling of the judge, to no avail. In a moment of inspiration, Mr. Rawlings personally contacted Governor Bosley and requested Ms. Nichols’ pardon. With the assistance of Jane Allyson, Esquire, and the signature of the late Governor Richard Bosley, the innocent Claire Nichols was pardoned and released from prison on March 9, 2013.
Mr. Rawlings regrets initially denying connection to her pardon. He also refuses to speculate as to whom he believes was responsible for the poisoning, which resulted in his near death and led to the false accusations. He will only respond, “It is a personal issue.”
It has been reported that multiple long-time employees of Mr. Rawlings have been relieved of their duties.
At the current time, Mr. Rawlings is concentrating on renewing his relationship with Ms. Nichols. He confirms that theirs is a complicated and passionate bond and asks for privacy at this important time of healing.
The entire world would learn of their new relationship—before Claire.
At a little after 7:00 PM Tony received notice of Claire’s arrival, sent Eric to retrieve her, and texted Shelly:
“PUBLISH THE PRESS RELEASE.”
The fact that the gala had already begun, Tony’s impending tardiness, as well as Sophia’s continued attendance worked to exacerbate Tony’s already unpleasant demeanor. He paced near the large windows and punched Mr. George’s number in his phone.
The curator immediately answered, “Mr. Rawlings, I-I’ve texted and called her. Ms. Burke isn’t responding.”
“I’m not sure if you can fathom the depth of my disappointment regarding your inability to perform to my liking. You have received exceptional compensation for your services. I don’t believe I have been as kindly reciprocated.”
“I am here. If I have to drag her from the gala, I will.”
“Do you truly believe that will go unnoticed?”
“No, sir. I’ll think of something.”
“I have taken care of it. My associate, Mr. Hensley, has a suite here at the St. Regis. I want you and Ms. Burke in that suite. Tell her that the buyer—I assume you know better than to use my name—wants to meet with her. Do not leave that suite until my associate releases you. Is that clear?”
“W-what if she wants to bring her husband?”
“That’s not an option. Mr. George, don’t make me repeat myself.”
“Yes, sir, when it comes to the gala—”
“She’s not to be there. And, only he is to remain.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“No, that isn’t acceptable.”
“Mr. Rawlings—”
“This has been the plan forever. If you aren’t capable, I’ll find someone who is.” Tony turned at the sound of footsteps and saw Eric entering with Claire. At least someone could do his job.
“Twenty minutes—I’ll be waiting.” Tony said as he disconnected the call and slid his phone into the pocket of his slacks. “Thank you, Eric. Ms. Claire will remain with me. Please take care of our other issue. I’m late for the benefit, and that’s very upsetting to me.”
“Yes, Mr. Rawlings. Twenty minutes?”
“Not a second more.”
Eric nodded as he backed toward the door. “Yes, sir.”
Tony stood and glared. This wasn’t how he wanted their reunion to go down, yet desperate times called for desperate measures. The closing doors echoed through the suite; silence filled the room, until Claire’s shoulders straightened and she swallowed. “Tony, please explain to—”
He didn’t allow her to finish. Instantly, he was across the room, his chest pressed against hers and her chin in his grip. Forcing eye contact, he leaned down and bathed her cheeks in his warm breath. “I have no intention of being at a social gathering, or anywhere else, with you and another man. You’re a fool to consider such a thing.”
Her face trembled below his grasp, yet her words sounded strong. “I agreed to attend this gala weeks ago, and I didn’t learn of your attendance until this evening.”
Tightening his hold of her chin, he replied, “Then your informant is as incompetent as the firewall at SiJo.”
Fire ignited behind her glare. “What did you do?”
“Nothing—and as long as your friends don’t have an overwhelming sense of conscience requiring them to inform the public of their near breach, no harm will come.”
“Why?”
He released her chin and continued to stare. That damn fire burned right through his overwrought nerves. He’d made the right decision. Claire may not realize it, but they belonged together. No one else could do what she was doing. No one else could continue to maintain eye contact as well as question his motives.
She repeated her question. “Why did you do this?”
“I told you, Claire. I know your weakness; it’s your concern for others. God only knows why, but for some reason, Amber McCoy has been kind to you. Her company won’t be harmed.” He paused and walked toward the window. The darkening sky reminded him that he was late. The gala was starting without him, and he’d yet to learn of Sophia’s location. Exhaling, Tony turned back to Claire and continued. “If you follow my rules.”
He waited. Claire didn’t respond, yet her complexion blanched as she lost footing. It wasn’t what he’d expected. Fight? Argue? Tears? Instead, she suddenly appeared ill. “Are you not feeling well?” Tony asked. Concern overtook his displeased tone “You’re pale.”
“I need to sit down.”
Wrapping his arm around her petite waist, Tony helped Claire to the nearest sofa. As she sat, her beautifully painted face glistened with a sheen of perspiration. He watched in horror as she lowered her head to her knees. Tony noticed a crystal pitcher of iced water and poured Claire a glass. When he returned, he knelt before her and handed her the glass. The domination in his voice was replaced with something softer and reassuring. “Here’s some water, drink.”
Only her head moved as she shook it slightly from side to side.
“Dinner will be starting downstairs in about an hour. Have you eaten recently?”
Claire’s cheeks were flushed as she looked up. “No, I-I haven’t. I don’t want to go down there with you.” Her strength seemed to be returning. “I’m here for SiJo, for Amber and Simon.”