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 private 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."
Harshness returned. "Then you'll do as I say."
Lowering her head once again to her lap, she obediently replied, "What do you want me to do?"
Tony closed his eyes. With his plans blowing up right and left, her response was exactly what he needed to hear. He touched her knee. "Claire, what the hell was that? Are you sick?"
She shook her head. "I'm not ill. I'm sick of this. Please, just tell me what you want me to do so that I can help my friends and go home."
Tony clenched his jaw and exhaled. "I'm ordering you some food. After you feel better we'll discuss your duties."
Exceptional service was only one of the perks associated with the presidential suite. In no time at all, Claire had a plate of crackers, cheese, and fruit as well as a soda to calm her stomach. Tony waited. When she seemed steadier, he asked for her purse. The last thing he wanted was her calling for reinforcements. This night would be about the two of them. Thankfully, she didn't protest. He immediately removed her iPhone, turned it off, and placed it in the breast pocket of his shirt. Next, he began searching each compartment and found only cosmetics and tissues.
Claire asked, "What are you looking for?"
"Your work phone."
"It isn't here; I left it in my condo."
From what he could see, she was telling the truth. He glanced at his watch; still no word on Sophia, but he needed to get things moving. "As you may remember, while at a function such as this, your attention should be on me and your duties at hand. I believe tonight you're representing SiJo Gaming. As well as representing it to the masses downstairs, your behavior will go a long way in solving their current situation, or," he paused, "making it public."
"I understand."
"I'm glad you do. You'll get your phone back when this evening is done. I believe you'll have enough on your plate, and you don't need another distraction."
Tony then handed Claire the news release.
"What is this?"
"It's a new release. My press secretary released it moments before you arrived to the penthouse." Smiling, he added, "I just saw a text from Shelly; it's already viral."
He watched as Claire read. After she'd finished, she looked up at him; her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "W-why? Why are you doing this?"
Tony explained, "I've tried to express my feelings for you. I've even apologized for past behaviors and attempted to explain, yet you blatantly flaunt another man at a shared function."
"I was not flaunting. We-you and I-are divorced. This..." she picked up the news release, "...is false. You didn't secure my pardon. You had nothing to do with it."
"And who's going to refute my claim?" Tony replied confidently. "Governor Bosley? No, he's dead. Jane Allyson? I think not."
"Why, Tony? What have you done to Jane?"
He made no attempt to suppress his grin. "Again, so much credit, I should be honored."
Claire stood and her words slowed. "Tell me what you've done."
"While I may be able to assume some responsibility, it's quite the opposite of what you suspect. Miss Allyson is currently enjoying the honor of an invitation to one of the most prestigious law firms in Des Moines." His phone buzzed. Tony read the text from Eric.
"MS. BURKE AND MR. GEORGE ARE WITH ME IN THE SUITE."
He sighed in relief. "Now, as informative as this conversation has been, we can continue it later. It's almost 8:00 PM. As you know, this gala started an hour ago. You may remember-I do not like to be late."
With Sophia securely out of the way, Tony took a step back and evaluated the woman before him. The food and drink had returned the color to her cheeks. His words may be misconstrued as condescending, but his tone bordered on sultry. "My, Claire, you do look lovely. I admit I doubted your financial ability to dress as would warrant my companion for the evening. There's a complete ensemble in the master suite for you, but I like your choice." Scanning her from head to toe, he stepped toward her and lifted the pearl of her grandmother's necklace. Grinning in anticipation, he continued, "Yes, after you touch up your makeup, I believe we'll be ready to attend our reunion gala." Gently dropping the cream-colored pearl, he softly brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. Bogus empathy dripped from his words. "Don't look so strained, my dear, this is a happy occasion. You wanted our dinner public, so your wish is my command. Besides, you came here to represent SiJo Gaming. I promise this will bring that small company more publicity and positive public relations than would have originally happened." Reaching for her small hand, he assured her. "This is a win win."
Her lips pressed together as Tony basked in the fire burning before him. He could gaze upon it for hours, but they had a gala to attend. With her neck straight, Claire asked, "Where can I get ready?"
"The master suite is upstairs. Let me show you the way." Tony wasn't sure of the exact cause. Perhaps it was that Eric had Sophia secured away from the festivities, or maybe it was Claire's appropriate behavior; whatever the cause, his night, as well as his demeanor, was improving.
To understand the heart and mind of a person, look not at what he has done, but at what he aspires to do.
-Kahlil Gibran Claire was absolutely lovely as she stepped from the master bath. Her green dress accentuated her eyes, and ringlets of hair brushed her proud neck. "You are beautiful, my dear."
She exhaled and placed her hand in the bend of Tony's elbow. "Let's get this over with."
He stilled their steps. "Claire, perhaps a review is in order. It has been a while." Her eyes narrowed, but he continued, "I expect you to follow my rules this evening. If you're to assure SiJo's recovery from their current problem, you'll remember that as my companion, I expect you to do as I say and that public failure is not an option. If you have something to say, get it out now. Once we are at that gala, any misconstrued comment could have far-reaching consequences."
The fire that had been smoldering blazed with new intensity. She squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. "I assure you that I remember your rules, but if you want me to get it out, then here it is. You're a heartless bastard. This is blackmail and I'm angry at myself for letting this happen."
He laughed. "There, now we can proceed."
Just before they entered the golden elevator, Tony lowered his lips to Claire's ear. Inhaling her perfume and sweet scent, he whispered, "You needn't blame yourself. You couldn't have stopped this if you'd tried. Let this heartless bastard take all the blame." The pools of emerald mellowed beneath his amused gaze. Claire needed to hear-to know-that she couldn't have stopped it. He grinned, knowing that he could've eased her mind more by letting her know that the problem at SiJo was now fixed and no damage had occurred. Of course, he didn't. That tidbit of information could wait.
Except for a private whisper now and then, Claire performed beautifully. Murmurs and gasps at the news of their reunification rippled throughout the ballroom like waves from a rock shattering the glassy surface of her lake. She smiled and spoke with confidence. Even when Tony spent a few extra minutes with Derek Burke, Claire stayed steadfast. Since Claire was supposed to have been brought to him before she hand a chance to mingle, Tony wasn't happy to learn that she'd already met the Cunninghams; however, her warning was not only helpful, but refreshing.
It wasn't until after his keynote speech that Tony saw what he didn't know he'd sought. It was a look, a stare, something in Claire's expression. Tony couldn't describe it, yet it was there. He hadn't seen it in years, but he recognized it immediately. As he resumed his seat, he reached for Claire's hand and gently lifted it from her lap. This time, his touch wasn't meant as a warning; instead, he intended affection as he lowered his head and brushed her knuckles with a soft sweep of his lips, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on hers. Claire's cheeks blushed as her smile broadened.
Quietly, she whispered, "Very nice speech, Mr. Rawlings."
"Thank you, Mrs. Ms. Nichols, you're mighty remarkable yourself."
Someone else was now speaking from the podium; their voices were a faint whisper against the sound from the nearby speaker. Claire raised her eyebrows and asked, "Mighty?"
It was a word Nathaniel had used, reserved for only the truly special people in his life. Perhaps that was what Tony was missing from his envelope. No, she hadn't been missing, only misplaced, and now she was with him. Although he'd never used that word before, it felt right. Gently squeezing her hand, he repeated, "Mighty."
They both smiled and turned to listen to the next orator, a woman from the Center for Learning Disabilities who was thanking the audience for their support. When the final speaker concluded, the emcee from earlier came to the podium and announced, "Ladies and gentleman, the orchestra will be in place soon. If everyone could please make their way out to the atrium, dancing will commence in less than half an hour."