by G H Edwards
“What’s the invisible hand?” Claire asked.
Sharon sighed loudly. “Oh boy,” she said as she took a long drink from her wineglass.
Allen gave his wife a stern sideways look before he started. “The invisible hand is an economic term; it means that customers control what businesses do by the way they purchase things.” He leaned forward, setting his glass down and looking serious. “For example, if a business is found to be doing something the public doesn’t like, then customers would stop buying from them and the business would go under. So it’s in the businesses’ interests to keep customers happy by any means necessary.”
“By any means necessary? What does that mean?”
“Well, do things that are good for the customer, and market things in a way that shows them why what you’re selling is good.”
“Ah, so if a company is doing something bad,” Claire said, “the customers will boycott them?”
“Yes, pretty much,” Allen said with a smile. “So if a company is profitable and stays in business, it’s because it’s good for the customer. Therefore, it’s important for that company to stay around for the good of the city. And if a company is small and failing, it’s because they aren’t doing good things for the people.”
“Wow. I never thought of that,” Claire gushed.
“Most people don’t. But luckily a lot of times bigger companies buy up smaller failing companies and fix them, making them profitable and good for the people and the city.”
“So the bigger companies are kind of helping everyone.”
“Exactly. Some would say they help more people than the local government ever could.”
“Certainly more than the Central does,” Claire said with a laugh.
“Not even a contest,” Allen said, laughing too.
When the laughing died down, Allen laid his large hand on top of Claire’s. Claire’s body tensed as she froze in absolute shock. Allen continued to laugh, and Claire’s eyes shot to Sharon to see what her reaction was; she was too busy downing her wine or simply didn’t mind. Claire suddenly became very hot and her heart pounded. She had no doubt Allen’s affection was much more than friendly, and he was very bold for doing it right in front of his wife. His hand felt strong yet soft.
Claire quickly pulled her hand back and brushed her hair behind her ear in embarrassment. She felt like she had just gotten caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to. “I find business very interesting,” she said dumbly.
Claire felt her face turn red as she tried to figure out what had just happened. Sharon seemed unfazed by the moment, and Claire began to wonder if she was overreacting.
Allen watched her with a big smile. “I’ll get the dessert,” he said, standing and gathering a few empty plates.
When he disappeared through the door, Sharon smiled. “Your face is red, dear, are you feeling all right?”
Claire smiled. “I’m fine. Thanks. I think the wine is hitting me faster than I thought it would.”
“Don’t worry, sweetie,” Sharon said with a kind smile, “He likes you.”
Claire smiled back but didn’t know how to respond. She tried to analyze what that comment could mean. Was it a code for something that she didn’t understand? She felt things were spinning away from her main mission. She wanted Allen to get comfortable enough to talk more about his businesses, but it seemed he might be getting too comfortable. She quickly realized she might need to rethink her plan.
CHAPTER 56
After they had finished dinner and a light dessert, Allen suggested they return to the living room. As they left, Claire noticed they apparently planned on leaving the dirty plates and leftover food on the table. Once again she found this slightly strange. She assumed they didn’t usually do their own housework, and the idea that they would leave the food sitting out didn’t seem like them. Claire wondered if they maybe gave their staff the night off or if they purposely wanted to be alone with her. A flash of worry shot through her as she thought maybe they wanted to question her about her Miami trip in private. Maybe force her to speak about it in some horrible way. But Sharon didn’t seem like a person who’d do something like that. She remembered that Allen apparently was developing a crush on her, so maybe he wanted to be alone with her again, but Sharon being there seemed to suggest otherwise. She decided she was being too paranoid and needed to relax. Allen had knocked back a few glasses of wine, so hopefully he’d be more open about everything.
Sharon motioned for Claire to sit in the center of one of the large couches; Sharon sat next to her with their legs nearly touching. Allen sat on Claire’s other side, sitting comfortably and looking at them. He watched them in a way that made Claire uncomfortable. The scents of Terry’s and Sharon’s cologne and perfume mixed together wonderfully and made Claire wondered if they matched them together like how some couples matched outfits.
Sharon spoke about where the couch was from and how she and Allen had argued over which one to buy, and how she didn’t like it. Her speech was slurring more and more with every sentence, and she was gesturing with the glass in her hands. Claire didn’t know how many glasses of wine she had drunk.
“Terry chose the color. I’m not a fan. Claire, honey, do you like the red?”
Claire was at a loss for words. “Um…the red is nice, if you spill the wine, it’ll be easy to hide.”
Sharon laughed loudly. “You’re so funny,” she said, leaning into Claire.
The night was taking a strange turn, and Claire was desperate to get it back on track. “Do you know much about power companies?” she asked Allen.
“I do have a little influence in Evergreen, yeah,” Allen said with a slight slur that barely covered his near brag.
“Wow, you seem to know about every business,” Claire said with a flirtatious smile that she hoped would distract him from her pointed questions.
“Well, I do meet a lot of people. It comes with the territory when you run the company that houses almost the entire city,” Allen replied.
“Oh, you guys are boring,” Sharon said, standing up. “I’m putting some music on.” She picked up a remote, pressed a few buttons, and an older pop song started playing. Claire glanced around, trying to find the source of the sound. Allen smiled and told her the speakers were hidden and she’d never find them.
Sharon stood and started to dance with herself, wineglass in hand. Allen watched with a smile.
“Do you know the owner?” Claire asked, trying to ignore Sharon’s solo dancing.
“The owner of what?”
“Evergreen.”
“Yeah, I know the owner pretty well. Why do you ask?”
Sharon was dancing her way behind the couch.
“The other day I was wondering why we only have one power company. I mean, if I want to go to a coffee shop I have lots of choices, but I only have one choice for power. I just thought it was weird, and I figured the owner would probably know the answer,” she answered, hoping to not arouse too much suspicion.
“Well, Claire, places like power companies have what’s called a natural monopoly. It means it takes so much time and money to lay all those power lines that no other company would even think of doing it.”
“Okay, I get it. But isn’t that illegal or something?”
Allen leaned back into the couch. “No, it’s totally legal. I wouldn’t worry about big companies breaking any laws. They make sure they’re well covered.”
The previous song had ended, and the next one was starting. It had a much faster beat, and Sharon proclaimed her love for the song.
Allen looked at his wife. “Honey, I think it’s time for you to go to bed.”
Despite the music playing, there was a silence in the room as Sharon stopped dancing.
“Be careful on the stairs. Good night,” he said.
Claire looked up uncomfortably. For a tiny second Sharon looked down at her glass in embarrassment but recovered. “Yes, it was a long day. I think I will,” she said with a content
smile, putting her empty glass on the coffee table. “Claire, it was lovely to see you again. I hope we’ll see you often.”
Claire rose in confusion and accepted a slight hug from Sharon. Why hadn’t Sharon insisted on staying? Didn’t she think it was strange for her husband to want to be alone with a younger woman he obviously liked?
“Good night,” Sharon said with a smile as she walked toward the staircase.
As she climbed the stairs, Claire became panicked. She felt like a caged animal and wanted to get up and run from the apartment, but she knew she couldn’t. She wondered if she should sit on the other side of the couch. Would a woman playing hard-to-get sit where she was sitting or would she move to the end of the couch?
“Sorry about that. Would you like some more wine?” he asked kindly.
Claire sat closer to the other arm of the couch. She was wondering if the wine was Terry’s way to loosen her up. Maybe he was hoping she would get drunk and reveal her plan to him. Either way, sitting alone with him on the couch seemed very wrong. Alarm bells were deafening her.
“Um, no, thank you,” she squeaked. This was moving too fast.
“But you’re running dry. Let me top you off,” he said as he rose, grabbing the bottle and pouring more into her glass. “So you’re interested in business and economics… Have you ever thought of going to school for them?”
Claire hadn’t; in fact, she’d only become interested in business in the last few months. “Yes, I’ve always wanted to. But it seems very hard,” she lied, trying to decide if she should look at him.
“I’m sure you’d do fine. You know, I could help you get into the best school,” Allen said, leaving the end of the statement hanging, as if to say there would be a hidden string attached.
“That would be great,” she said shyly, as she brushed her hair behind her ear.
“You know you’re very pretty when you’re shy.”
Claire immediately felt red-hot and knew she was blushing. “Oh, thank you.” After a short charged silence she squeaked, “Did you always want to get into business or is there something else you would have rather done?”
Allen smiled, seemingly knowing she was trying to change the subject. “No, business has always been what I wanted. And I usually get what I want.” They made eye contact.
Claire knew now was as good of time as any. “Well, I should probably go. I mean Sharon is already asleep and I don’t want to—”
“Don’t worry about her. She’s fine,” he said, leaning forward and taking her hand.
“I just think she might be upset with me staying,” she said, as she rose to leave. He pulled her back down to the couch closer to him. Her heart raced. She’d always hoped that just by flirting and making him comfortable he’d eventually reveal all his secrets, but she saw now that it had only led to the inevitable.
“You don’t have to be scared,” Allen said with a smile as he leaned in close to her. He stroked her neck with his hand and a chill shot through her entire body.
Without even thinking about it, she bolted up and was standing in front of the couch. “Listen, I don’t think I can do this. I mean, you’re married. I don’t think I’m ready. I’m sorry.”
Allen stood, pressed his body against hers, and wrapped his arms around her. “You worry too much. You just need to relax,” he said, and leaned in. Their lips were nearly touching. Claire smelled a mix of wine and expensive cologne. It seemed very different when it wasn’t mixed with Sharon’s.
She couldn’t speak. She just froze; all she could think about was Michael. Allen leaned in slowly and kissed her. She was shocked but didn’t move. She had completely forgotten what it was like to be kissed, but she knew that this wasn’t how it used to be. His cologne now smelled like power and force. She felt so stupid for being in this position with this evil man. She had played a dangerous game and now had been caught. Her eyes were open, and she saw the giant L leaning against the back wall. She realized that the letter must have been very hard to get, but he got it. He always got what he wanted; the harder to get the better. He moved his hands down and felt the curve of her backside. Suddenly, as if a lightning bolt had hit her, she knew what she had to do.
CHAPTER 57
The next few weeks flew by. Claire was doing more TV appearances than ever. She was happy to see that most of her TV time was about her and her current life instead of looking back on her trip to Miami and Michael’s death. Even more important was that she was now doing live TV. She took this as a sign that Allen must finally trust her enough to no longer have to approve of what she would say. She assumed he must be convinced that she would no longer expose him. At least that part of her plan was working. But the second part, the messy part, wasn’t working well.
Claire was becoming Zen like when she had sex with Allen. Her body was there, given fully to him, but her mind was not. In the beginning she had to focus all her energy on not vomiting every time he touched her, but now she was simply checked out. They usually met twice a week, always at her apartment, and never in public. The sex was rough, quick, and completely blocked out of her mind. She used the time to mentally review her plans and ensure all her bases were covered. After he had finished, she would lie with him, stroke his ego, and attempt to get him to talk business. She’d heard about pillow talk and was hoping he would give up more secrets since she had given up herself, but he didn’t. If fact, he had moved in the other direction, not talking about business ever since they started having sex. She had felt almost betrayed, as if they had a never-discussed agreement to exchange sex for information, but she was wrong. Even when she pushed him about other things, he was becoming expertly vague. She had brought up the lack of homeless people in the city and his opinion, but he brushed it off as proof that capitalism was working. She had talked about Billies being accused of kidnapping people, and he brushed it off as proof that Houston was a much better place to be than anywhere else. The only somewhat-helpful thing she had discovered was when she had confided in him that during one of her TV appearances a producer had been very rude to her only to find that the next day he was fired. That helped show Allen’s level of control but could just prove that he had lots of influence, which Claire already knew.
No amount of inquiry was making him talk. She had resorted to listening to any phone conversations he was having near her, but he was very careful about those. He’d always talk in a different room than her, but never close to the windows. Because he was even more careful about hiding the affair.
She thought of recording the rooms, but she didn’t know if that could be tracked somehow. She thought about stealing his phone, but she feared she could end up like the TV producer but much worse. She had to walk a fine line between being trustworthy enough to do live TV and pushing enough to get the truth. She had to wait and be patient; her time would come.
CHAPTER 58
Claire always had wondered what this moment would feel like. Would she be happy or excited, nervous or relieved, unprepared or ready? But when the moment finally arrived, she felt almost numb, and thoughts of Michael ran through her head. But her memories of him were becoming fuzzy, as if they were an old movie that had been watched so much it was becoming worn out. Still, she knew she missed him, and she knew she hated that he wasn’t alive. She wondered how Allen would react to her news.
She kicked herself because now when they met he wasn’t interested in anything other than having sex with her. Her plan to get him comfortable enough to talk had backfired.
She took several deep breaths and waited for everything to sink in. She looked up from the sink and around her large bathroom. It was so bright, polished, and empty, it felt like an alien spacecraft. Tears filled her eyes. Through her numbness, she couldn’t decide if they were tears of happiness or sadness.
She looked at herself in the mirror and simply nodded as the tears ran down her face. Staring at herself, she felt a deep feeling rising. It started out small then bubbled up like warm water. It took her a while to u
nderstand it, but when she did, she realized it was joy and anticipation. Slowly she smiled and was soon laughing. She felt she could see herself glowing. She continued to laugh as she picked up the small white tube and read it again: pregnant.
CHAPTER 59
“That still doesn’t answer my question,” Mr. Allen said into his telephone while standing behind his large glass desk at the top of his towering building. “Sales in the fourth ward are down at least seven percent this quarter. What…did everyone in the fourth suddenly decide to stop eating? And how did the person I put in charge of grocery stores in the western half of the city not notice the grocery stores are failing? Yes, that is failing; seven percent just doesn’t happen. Either this is a calculation error, or the people in the fourth are running serious black-market stores that I’m not aware of. Either way, you are failing by not knowing which one… There is only ever a fluctuation of around two percent by people shopping outside of their ward, and that would be easily seen by the other wards’ sales going up by the missing percentage… Yes, you do that. I want an answer by the end of the day.” Allen forcefully hung up the cordless desk phone while loudly exhaling.
His phone rang with the familiar tone that told him the call was coming from within the building. After he pressed a button, a voice over the phone said, “Mr. Allen, sir, Ms. Claire Gale is here to see you.”
Allen’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Ah, yes…to sign the Rental papers. I almost forgot. Send her up, please.” There were no papers, but he needed a reason for her to be there. He knew his employees, especially the secretaries, were the most prevalent gossip creators and spreaders. He had moles inside the secretary pool. He tried to keep a tight lid on his affairs and might now have to get them to help quash any rumors about him and Claire.
He began to flip over all the documents on his desk and close out the important products on his computer. As he was finishing, he heard the slight shuffling of Claire’s small frame coming across the large glass office building. He walked to the top of the glass stairs. “Well, this is a surprise,” he said with a hint of annoyance.