"I've given this scenario a lot of thought. We both know that we can't be one hundred percent truthful."
"Obviously," Claire murmured.
Tony cleared his throat. "Like I said, we need to be on the same page. I contacted you while you were in prison-"
"You did no such-"
His darkening gaze stopped her protest, as his baritone voice dropped an octave, slowing his words. "We must be together on this. No one's going to believe that this just happened. We have to let them think that it's been in the works for a while. Besides, that's what the press release said. We need to create a believable history."
Claire sucked in her cheeks, pursed her lips, and lowered her chin. Turning toward him, she said, "Fine, you're the master of deception, what's our believable history?"
"I contacted you at the prison-first by letter, and eventually, I began to visit." He waited for her rebuttal. When none came, he went on, "Initially, we were both upset-and hurt. After all, I believed you tried to kill me, and you believed I abandoned you."
Crossing her arms over her chest, she agreed. "All right, abandoned is appropriate."
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing, "Communication-we began talking. I realized that it was all a misunderstanding. Despite the evidence, you convinced me that you weren't responsible."
"Then who?"
"We may never know. There had been some deliveries and some new groundskeepers had been hired. Perhaps it was a business rival-we'll probably never know. The clues are long gone and the police concentrated on the wrong person."
With each comment, Claire's gaze mellowed.
Tony continued, "I personally went to Governor Bosley. He attended our wedding, and in the past, I'd done him some favors. He agreed to your petition for pardon. Since then..." Tony continued weaving a history that his friends would accept. Slowly, he saw Claire's stance relax and her gaze become more accepting. It seemed that Claire, too, wanted this evening to go well. Was it because there was a small part of her that wanted it to be real, or was it because she was afraid of the consequences if she didn't? Tony prayed it was the former.
Upon opening Claire's door, Tony looked into her nervous expression. "I'm not leading you into the den of lions," he whispered.
"No," she sighed. "You've already done that."
"This time I won't leave you," he promised. "I'll stay by your side, and you won't be alone."
Nodding, Claire grasped his extended hand. Their fingers intertwined as they approached the stately home. He leaned down. "I'd hoped seeing everyone here first would be easier than seeing them for the first time in a crowd."
"It probably will be; nevertheless, I think I'm going to be ill."
He pulled her to a stop and searched her face under the darkening sky. "Your color looks good. You look amazing. I promise," he said, squeezing her hand. "I'm right here." His grin broadened. "A man of my word."
Claire reached up and kissed his cheek, sending a wave of warmth through his entire body. In her voice he heard true gratitude. "Thank you." He didn't deserve it; Tony knew that. Nonetheless, it was wonderful to hear.
Before they pressed the doorbell, Tim opened the door. With Sue by his side, he politely offered a greeting, "Welcome to our home, Tony, Claire."
Tony glanced to Sue. She motioned toward their sitting room and said, "Please come in."
Everyone was there-all of Tony's closest friends. Six pairs of eyes stared as the room fell deadly silent, and Claire tightened her grip of his hand. Tony was about to speak when Courtney placed her wine glass on the table and walked toward them. It was as if she didn't see Tony, as her blue eyes glassed over with tears. Suddenly, Claire was engulfed in Courtney's embrace. He had no choice but to release her hand.
All of his work to prepare Claire was a waste of time. The two women were hugging, crying, and holding on to one another for dear life. Tony watched in horror, as one by one, the other women joined the hugfest until Claire was surrounded. Helplessly, he watched as all of the women disappeared into the kitchen. It wasn't until Tim slapped him on the shoulder and said, "It's a good thing," that Tony released the breath he didn't know he'd been holding.
The advantage to dating women whom you cared nothing about was the lack of drama. While Claire was gone, he never brought anyone around his friends; there was no need. Now that he had Claire back with the few people in the world whom he respected and valued, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he'd never figure out women. They were far too complicated.
The evening progressed exceptionally well. Most of the time when Tony looked to Claire, she was by his side, saying or doing the perfect thing. At one point, Tony realized that both Claire and Brent were missing. Remembering Brent's icy response from less than a week ago, Tony's heart beat quickened as he searched. Courtney saw his concern and joined him. Together, they found Brent and Claire in the kitchen simply discussing California. When Courtney asked Claire for her cell number, Tony filled with relief, seeing that his friends were truly supporting his decision.
It wasn't until Brent announced that he and Courtney needed to leave, that Tony asked to have a private talk amongst the four of them. Suddenly, Claire's performance faltered. She seemed anxious. Why could she talk to them in the house, but feared being alone? Tony wanted to reassure her that it was all right, that his friends were already helping her more than she knew.
As they thanked Tim and Sue for hosting the dinner, Sue asked, "Could you please wait just a minute?" Without waiting for an answer, she hurried away toward the stairs.
Puzzled, Tony looked down to Claire and heard Courtney say, "I think she's going to get Sean. He's upstairs with the nanny." Claire didn't verbally respond, but her eyes did. He'd seen that look before, questioning, asking. He shrugged and Claire turned to Courtney. "Can you stay for a few more minutes? I know you have a lot to do, and Tony wants to talk-"
"Oh, honey," Courtney replied, "I always have time for babies. Wait until you see him!"
While they waited for Sue to return with Sean, Tony remembered Sue's initial reaction and realized what a big step this was for her. Obviously, even without that knowledge, Claire recognized it. When Tony refocused, Courtney and Brent were talking about grandchildren. Moments later, Sue appeared with a pajama-clad Sean. The last time Tony had seen their son had been at his birthday party. Kids' parties weren't really Tony's thing, and he hadn't stayed long, but the kid was cute with blonde hair like his mom's. Tony met Sue's gaze and nodded approvingly, before she turned toward his ex-wife. "Claire, I wanted you to meet Sean. I'm sorry. This is past his bedtime, and the poor little guy is getting tired."
"Hello, little guy, it's nice to meet you." Claire's voice sounded high. Tony wondered why normal adults talk strangely around kids, when she asked, "He's what-about fifteen months?"
"Almost." Sue smiled. "He's so much fun, getting into everything and learning new words every day."
When Tim stepped forward, Sean put out his arms, and Tim swung him into his embrace. "Believe me," Tim added, "it makes you think about every word when little ears are listening."
Tony thought it seemed like a lot of undue stress. He'd spent enough time thinking about what to say with Claire. Her emotion-filled voice refocused his thoughts as she patted the kid's head. "Thank you. I think you might have some difficulty getting him back to sleep."
Once they were out by the cars, Tony squared his shoulders and addressed Claire, Brent, and Courtney. It was time for Claire to understand that he was taking her requests seriously, and he believed it would sound more sincere if she heard it from Brent. Tony began, "I'm doing my best to be honest with Claire, and I expect the same from her." He wished she didn't look so nervous. "That's why I thought we should get this out in the open."
Claire interjected, "Tony, I think the Simmonses need to-"
"This won't take long." Tony turned to Brent. "I've trusted Brent with many things through the years. That's why I wanted him to be the one to tell you about his progress regarding your brother-in-law."
"Yes," Brent said, expelling a breath. Tony knew they had a lot to do for the wedding and rehearsal, but this was important. Brent went on to explain that some new information had come to the attention of the New York State Bar Association, and John's case would soon be coming up for review. If all went well, the result would be the reinstatement of his license to practice law. As Brent spoke, Tony watched Claire's eyes glow and glisten.
She sprung up and clapped. "Oh, thank you! Thank you, Brent. Thank you, Tony. I won't say a word. When will you know if it will be up for review?"
Brent answered, "It'll take a few months, and I should be kept apprised of updates."
Tony offered his hand to Brent. "Thank you." He shook Brent's hand. "I apologize for delaying your departure, but I wanted Claire to hear it from you."
Courtney smiled enthusiastically. "That's all right; however, now we really need to go. I'm so glad this was good news." Reaching out for Claire's hand, she continued, "Now, you need some rest. Tony's right-you've had too many things thrown at you. Look how emotional you are."
Claire nodded. "We'll see you tomorrow night, and before then, I'll call you."
Tony grasped Claire's hand, and they walked back to the car. As he opened her door, he bent down and whispered, "A man of my word."
She smiled all the way to her emerald eyes and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, I really mean that."
Through the high beams of the Lexus' headlights, the country roads wound like a ribbon over hills and between open fields. Tony squeezed Claire's knee, bringing her back from wherever she had been. He'd been explaining the whole reinstatement process, yet she seemed a million miles away. Tony went on, "There are so many levels and so much bureaucracy that it takes longer than you would expect, but Brent thinks it can be resolved before the end of the year."
"That's a long time away. How long did it take to set him up?"
His neck stiffened. "I'd rather not talk about that."
"Why? I know you did it. You told Brent and Courtney you wanted to be honest. So, be honest."
He sat taller and momentarily refused to look her way. Damn it, he was helping her brother-in-law-why did she need to bring this up? Fine, she wanted to know. "From the time he turned down my job offer." He peered toward his passenger. There wasn't an outward sign or hint of emotion as Claire pressed her lips tight and watched the road before them. When she didn't respond, he asked, "You asked. Now you won't comment?"
"I don't know what to say. Do you want my bold and cheeky response or the reticent and genteel one?"
He gripped the steering wheel, fighting the urge to lower his right foot and drive the damn car the way it was designed to be driven. "This is why I haven't answered all of your questions. You may think you're ready for answers, but you're not. Bits and pieces may help you understand, but the blatant truth is too much."
His blood boiled as Claire sat silently during the rest of the ride, keeping her head turned toward the window. He wanted to be open, to be honest, but her reaction proved that it wasn't possible. Would Claire ever be able to handle knowing the whole truth? Was he a fool for trying? With each minute of silence, Tony felt Claire slip further and further away; he didn't know how to stop it. Her expression was one of indifference; he'd seen it before. The news about her brother-in-law was supposed to show her that he was trying. Instead, her resulting coolness beckoned his red. He berated himself for even attempting to make amends when their gap was obviously insurmountable.
When Tony pulled the car onto the brick circular drive in front of his house, Claire turned to him and placed her hand on top of his. Shocked by her soft touch, his dark gaze stared momentarily at the size difference of their hands as he tried to corral the red hue. Slowly, he moved his eyes to hers. The fire he expected was absent.
The soft emerald soothed as she said, "Thank you. Thank you for supporting me tonight with your friends. I was very nervous. It turned out much better than I could've possibly hoped... and thank you for helping John. I know you don't like him, and that you created his problems, but helping him now-it means a lot to me." She leaned in and lightly kissed his lips.
With one hand, Tony gripped the door handle; it was a means of keeping himself grounded. One minute, he was happily explaining the progress they'd made with John, the next, he was driving in silence belittling himself and Claire for trying to be open and honest, and now she'd kissed him and he wanted nothing more than to pry her from this car and take her on the damn driveway. The emotional roller coaster was too much. Tony had said he wanted fuck'n highs and lows. He just didn't want them all at once over the course of twenty minutes. "Claire, I'm trying to give you space, but I'm on the edge."
She leaned back and undid her seat belt. "I know you're trying, and I appreciate it."
She was halfway to the front door when he caught up and seized her arm. Stepping nearer, he whispered, "I'm very glad you're here."
Claire smiled and looked up at the house. "I'm surprised at how much I like being here. I was afraid the bad memories would overpower the good."
"Does that mean... the good overpower the bad?"
Claire shrugged. "I don't know. I wish I could say yes. You said you want honesty, and honestly, I don't know. They're both there. It's just that the familiarity of here is heartwarming."
He kissed the top of her head. "I need to go into the office tomorrow morning. I hope to be done and home by noon. The dessert celebration isn't until 8:00 PM. Would you like to go for a walk tomorrow?"
"A walk?" she asked.
He grinned at her change of tone. "Yes, Claire-to your lake?"
She smiled and nodded. "I-I'd like that very much."
He kissed the hand he'd secured. "Please allow me to escort you to your suite. I'll give you Courtney's number, and you may use the lock you requested. Actually," his eyes narrowed. "I suggest you do."
Boldly, she leaned into his chest. If only she knew how much he wanted to repeat the scene in Amber's condominium. Her face tipped upward as she purred, "You know, we never did this."
"This what?" He couldn't think straight.
"We never dated. I guess we did on two occasions, in Atlanta." Her smile didn't falter at the reference. "I like it."
Tony gently squeezed her hand, and they ascended the front steps. "We'd better get you behind a locked door, so I don't do anything to ruin this date." He emphasized the last word.
Claire smiled slyly. "Actually, according to a definition I recently heard, we need to be in public for this to be a date."
Bold and cheeky. Tony gave her hand another small squeeze.
There is nothing more profound or of lasting consequence than the decision to have a child.
-Raymond Reddington, The Blacklist The visit to the lake was everything Tony hoped for and more. It wasn't that it hadn't occurred to him over the last year and a half to visit Claire's lake. It had. The thing was, he wasn't adept at finding his way through the wooded terrain. Tony could face a table of adversaries knowing that he would cut off their financial lifeline. He could study a stack of spreadsheets and instinctively know which companies could be saved and which ones should be closed... but walking through trees, climbing slopes, and ending at a pristine lakeshore was nowhere in his skill set.
Claire, on the other hand-Tony had total faith in her abilities. Once they reached the shore and she asked if he'd been there during her absence, his answer was heartfelt, "No, I'd be lost without you."
Can one statement be layered in sentiment? If so, it was. Tony would never have found the crystal clear lake with glistening waves without Claire. To be completely honest, he had no desire. Spending the afternoon sitting on the lakeshore, while deals and opportunities came and went at record speed, was not Anthony Rawlings' modus operandi. But sitting on a lake shore, enticing the one woman in the whole world, to recognize that skinny-dipping was exactly what they both needed-well, that was Tony Rawlings' MO, especially when it came to the woman named Claire (used-to-be Rawlings) Nichols.
Of course she didn't agree. Why did he think there was a chance? She was the same woman who pulled a sheet over her beautiful round breasts and projected modesty at every opportunity. She was the same woman who'd put him in his figurative place, more than once. Claire was the woman who spun his otherwise calm, predictable life out of control. Her refusal spurred his desire more than an acceptance ever would.
When they returned to the estate, Claire said she was tired, and before they went to the rehearsal dessert and wine celebration, she wanted to nap. Tony willingly agreed; after all, between traveling and nerves, she had every right to be tired. He mused that if she planned to fly to him every two weeks for their scheduled appearances, Claire needed to get used to the traveling. Maybe this would be the perfect stepping-stone to suggest she stay in Iowa. He'd emphasize that it was for her benefit, to make it less taxing.
They planned to eat dinner on the back patio before going to the celebration. In the past, it had been their practice that Tony would retrieve Claire from her suite for dinner and walk her to the dining room or patio; however, since they hadn't specifically said, Tony went to the patio and waited. With each passing minute, a voice from nowhere-one he tried to ignore-reminded him about his aversion to waiting. Each glance at his watch made the voice clamor louder about the consequences of tardiness. By most people's standards, Claire wasn't late; however, she most definitely wasn't on time. If Catherine hadn't reassured Tony that Claire was awake from her nap, he could assume that she was still asleep and go wake her as he'd done the day before.
When 7:00 PM came and went, Cindy asked, "Mr. Rawlings, would you like me to serve your meal?"
No. No, he wasn't eating alone. That was the point of having Claire on the estate. "Not yet, Cindy."
"Would you like me to check on Ms. Claire?"
Throwing his napkin on the table, he replied, "No, I'll go."
Each step toward her suite was a battle against the red. Claire wanted to be bold and cheeky, fine, but rules and expectations didn't change because she wanted to spout a daring retort. Tony made himself stop before opening her door. He inhaled and exhaled... and knocked. He waited, perhaps not long. When she didn't respond, he turned the handle. Scanning the suite, she was nowhere to be found. Could she still be getting ready? He called out her name and reached for the handle to the bathroom door. Suddenly, the cloud of displeasure that had grown in intensity dissipated into a storm of concern. Sitting on the edge of the whirlpool tub, wrapped in the pink robe, was his Claire, her complexion ashen, her face drenched in perspiration, and her body trembling. Tony fell to his knees as his mind went into overdrive. "What's the matter with you? Are you sick? I'll get you the best doctors..."
Instead of replying, Claire shook her head and bolted from the tub's edge. Tony was at a loss as he listened to Claire vomit within the confines of the small, attached room that contained the lavatory. Did he go to her? Did he stay where he was? Did he call a doctor? Call Catherine? While he debated, his mind searched for answers-that's what he did. Anthony Rawlings found answers. First, he needed to know what questions to ask. The first stop would be a doctor.
By the time Claire walked out of the small room, her petite frame had regained some semblance of normalcy. Tony stood silently, as Claire walked more steadily to the sink, rinsed her mouth, and then turned toward him and proclaimed, "Tony, I'm not sick."
He gently reached for her shoulders. "What do you mean? You're obviously ill. I'll call Brent. They'll understand."
"No, I want to go. I'll be better soon. It usually doesn't hit this hard in the afternoon. I think I'm just stressed."
"What doesn't hit...?" He studied Claire's green eyes. Along with her strength, color now returned to her once pale cheeks. The information was processing at record speed: her aversion to bacon at the restaurant, her ravenous hunger this afternoon, her frequent naps. Tony's tone unconsciously morphed from a concerned companion to a CEO in need of answers. "What doesn't hit?"
"The nausea."
Each word came slower and deeper than the last. "Brought. On. By. What?"
Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she replied, "I'm seven weeks pregnant, almost eight."
Pregnant? She was pregnant? Seven weeks? When was he in Palo Alto? How long ago was that afternoon in her condominium?
Before he could process, Claire went on, "Yes, Tony, we are going to have a baby."
Words weren't forming, only her words bounced through his brain. We-a baby-mother-father. This wasn't supposed to happen. She had that damn insert. Of course, that was years ago. He tried unsuccessfully to process. Finally, he asked, "How did this happen?"
The look she gave him momentarily stilled any further questions. "That's a great question, since I have no recollection of letting you back into my condominium, but nonetheless, the timing works perfectly."
He stared dumbfounded as he tried to make sense out of this new paradigm. "What are we going to do about..." he motioned toward her midsection, "...this?"
"I don't know what we are going to do. I'm going to have a baby, with or without you."