The internship was an easy ploy to rid her of Simon. Watching the sadness from Claire and Simon Johnson’s family, there was a part of Tony which hated what happened, but it was Simon’s fault. He should have just left Claire alone—but no. His actions in Chicago resulted in the consequences today in Madison.
Tony beheld his wife’s sleeping face on his leg. That day—so many years ago—she’d been all alone. Today, he did what he wanted to do then—it was him—not Emily and—not John. Claire needed him. This wasn’t an occasion for smiles, but knowing she was asleep—he grinned.
*
As they landed in Iowa, Tony gently woke his wife. It was only 6:00 PM, but the sky was dark and spitting snow. They hurried from the plane to the warm waiting car. Once they were within the warm confines of the BMW, Tony asked Claire a question, “Where would you like to go for our anniversary?”
Obediently, she replied, “Some place sunny and warm.” The desire she didn’t say aloud was—alone.
Anyone can give up. It’s the easiest thing in the world to do. But to hold it together when everyone else would understand if you fell apart, that’s true strength.
—Unknown
Chapter Forty-Five
‡
November fluctuates between autumn and winter. Technically, winter doesn’t begin until after the winter solstice, but as it approaches, the days dramatically decrease in length and the darkness increases. Some days in November include brilliant blue skies and crisp, intense sunshine. The contrast and fluctuations in weather and life created the unpredictable pressures defining Claire’s existence. She stressed when Tony was good because she knew it may not last. She worried when he was bad because she knew how bad he could be.
During a private girls’ lunch, Courtney approached the subject again. Since the completion of the silent auction, the frequency of their lunch dates had decreased. Claire desperately missed them. Therefore, following Simon’s memorial, she was elated to receive another invitation accompanied by Tony’s eagerness for her to accept. He said, “I think you need some fun.” She couldn’t have agreed more.
The two ladies spent the afternoon in Bettendorf eating, shopping, walking, and talking. Courtney knew about Simon. She knew an old friend of Claire’s had approached her at one of Tony’s speaking events and that Tony wasn’t pleased. She didn’t know the entire story. She also knew about Simon’s sudden death and Tony’s remarkable support.
Courtney made Claire laugh—and in Claire’s precarious state of mental health—that was monumental. Courtney talked about the impending holidays. She expectantly waited for her children to return home from their points of interest and settle in for holiday celebrations. Claire liked the Simmons children—who weren’t really children. They were in their twenties—one still in graduate school—the other beginning a career as an investment banker in St. Louis. Neither was married, but their son Caleb had a steady girlfriend. Courtney liked her and hoped Caleb would propose soon. She and Brent wanted to be grandparents. It seemed strange to Claire that she was only two years older than Caleb and yet, Courtney was her best friend.
Another exciting topic for Courtney was her impending trip. It seemed that Tony finally recognized Brent’s hard work and awarded him a substantial Christmas bonus. He told Brent before the holidays so Brent could plan a nice surprise for Courtney; however, Brent didn’t want to risk Courtney’s disapproval, so he included her in the planning from the beginning. They were to going to go to Fiji—a trip similar to Tony and Claire’s honeymoon. Refusing to miss Christmas with their children, Brent and Courtney weren’t leaving until after the first of the year. Courtney asked Claire a lot of questions about Fiji. Courtney’s excitement was contagious—Claire told Courtney everything she could remember—mostly the destination equaled paradise and don’t worry about packing too many clothes—they didn’t seem to stay on in paradise.
Courtney understood Claire’s privacy issues. Most of their confidential discussions occurred while walking or driving. Claire couldn’t risk someone overhearing. “Honey, I’m really worried about you. I know losing a friend is hard, but it just seems like you have been going down since before Simon’s death.”
Claire didn’t even try to act fine. “I just don’t know. I feel empty and tired all the time.”
“If there is anything I can do for you”—she squeezed Claire’s hand—“I’ll do it.”
“I think afternoons like this are the best medicine.”
Courtney agreed laughter would help—so they laughed. They walked in shops—read funny cards and plaques—and had fun.
When Claire returned to the estate that night, she felt lighter. She tried with all her might to continue the feeling into her home and her suite. The fact Tony tried to help, wasn’t lost on Claire. He immediately showed her an e-mail from Emily and volunteered, “She wants you to call early—before John gets home. I think you should call before dinner.”
Together, they went to Tony’s office and Claire tried again—she’d been trying to reach Emily since the first of November. It had been nearly two weeks. This time Emily answered on the first ring. “Hello?”
Talking on the speaker phone, Claire replied, “Hi, Emily, it’s Claire. We’ve been worried. Is everything all right?”
“I don’t think so. I asked you to call early so I could talk before John came home.”
“I was out with Courtney today. I called as soon as I got your e-mail.” That was all true.
“John isn’t home yet. Is Anthony there?”
Claire hesitated, should she lie or be truthful? “He is. Do you want to talk to him?”
“I don’t know, maybe he can help.” Tony looked at Claire and raised his eyebrows.
Claire offered, “I could put you on speaker phone—so he can hear too.”
Emily said that would be a good idea. Tony pushed a button to create an audible change and said hello. When Emily said hello, they heard her voice crack.
Claire enquired, “Emily, what’s wrong?”
“You know the deadline for partnership decisions was the first?” Claire said she did, Tony acknowledged her audibly too. “Well, it’s been extended,” Emily added.
Claire broke in—always the optimist, “So, that’s not necessarily bad, they’re still undecided.”
“But now the auditor, the person verifying all the accounting information, is questioning John—a lot. John has been asked to verify everything. He’s rummaging through old records and spending hour after hour documenting and authenticating his previous work”—Claire and Tony were engaged in concerned eye contact.
Tony responded first, “Emily, I’m sure it’s some kind of formality—John works for a very prestigious firm. They just want every T crossed and every I dotted.”
“Anthony, I hope you’re right”—they could hear her sniffles—“He pretends to be unconcerned, but I can tell that isn’t the case.”
Claire offered, “He’s probably sick of the controlling procedure and stress”—she could relate—trying to rationalize and validate every move you make can become tiresome.
“I believe he’s offended. Claire, you know John. He’d never do anything that wasn’t completely honest and honorable.”
Claire debated her response. She feared adding to John’s fan club. Nevertheless, before she could formulate her answer, Tony replied, “We did our research prior to offering John a job. I know he’s one of the most honest and honorable attorneys anywhere.”
Claire scanned her husband’s expression. She only saw sincerity. She added, “I second that—Em. It’ll be okay. Let them scrutinize John’s records, there’s nothing dishonest or deceitful to discover.”
“Thank you—really—both of you. John didn’t want me telling you. That’s why I haven’t answered your calls, but I really wanted you to know.”
Claire felt her internal time clock ticking. “Emily, please keep us posted—”
Tony interrupted, “If I can be of any assistance—perhaps we can ge
t together for Thanksgiving again this year”—Claire watched her husband with astonishment as he continue speaking—“We could meet in New York City or, maybe closer to Troy, if that’d be easier for you.”
Emily thanked them both—she’d think about Thanksgiving. She appreciated Anthony’s offer of help. It was nice to just talk with them. “I promise to keep you updated. I better go in case John gets home soon. Thank you.”
They hung up.
Claire had been upset with Tony for almost two months. She despised him for his reaction in Chicago. His behavior that night had repulsed her. She detested the way he treated her in California. On some level, she even loathed the fact Simon idolized him, yet he had tried on numerous occasions to make amends. Only superficially had she accepted his pleas. Those shallow recognitions were mainly a form of self-preservation, a ploy to pacify him, but at that moment—as he disconnected the line—she overwhelmingly, without reservation, appreciated and cherished her husband.
The realization almost immobilized her. Every ounce of her being had been opposed to him—similar to like ends of magnets. Her self-therapy suddenly realized that all of her energy had been consumed continually fighting the repulsion and forcing herself to be near him. No wonder she was so drained; however, as he hung up the phone—her magnet flipped—suddenly—instead of repulsion—she felt attraction. The relief engulfed her and her mask evaporated; Claire’s expression became sincere. “Thank you, Tony.” She went to him and hugged him.
He seemed to recognize the difference in her touch as he looked down into her green eyes, and said, “I need to keep working.”
She didn’t understand—thinking he was saying he had work to do. She pushed away to let him continue his business, when he gently pulled her back into his embrace. Claire looked up into his soft brown eyes, as he said, “No, Claire, I need to keep working to be a man you’re proud to call your husband.”
Claire buried her face in his chest. Without a doubt, there would be mascara on his very expensive suit. He lifted her chin. “I need to work to be the man Mrs. Johnson thinks I am.”
Later that night, they laughed, cuddled, and talked. Their interaction hadn’t been playful for months. Claire was giddy from the release of tension and stress. For the first time in ages, her head didn’t pound. She wasn’t worried about John; he was beyond reproach. Everything there would resolve itself. The looming question had been here. Unexpectedly, she believed it too had been resolved. Realistically, the resolution wouldn’t be permanent, but she would enjoy the reprieve.
Emily e-mailed them the following week, declining Tony’s Thanksgiving invitation. She sincerely appreciated his offer, but John barely took time to eat. He worked continually to rectify the inquiry.
Tony saw Claire’s disappointment and offered a trip anywhere for the holiday. Claire decided she’d rather stay home and celebrate an old-fashioned Thanksgiving with her husband. She wanted to cook him a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. He looked concerned, but agreed with one stipulation—she would allow him to plan a getaway for their anniversary and Christmas. Claire agreed.
Giving the entire staff the day off, they lived through Thanksgiving dinner and even survived the carbohydrate overdose. Claire cooked turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, yams, yeast rolls, pumpkin pie, and vegetables. Tony obligingly ate some of everything, saying he liked it all; however, the exorbitant amount of calories contained within the meal far exceeded their usual diet. They both feared they would explode before the pumpkin pie with whipped cream was served.
Although she enjoyed cooking, Claire forgot how much she disliked cleaning. Tony encouraged her to leave it—the staff would take care of it the next day. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, Claire heard her mother and grandmother—leaving the mess for someone else, was unacceptable. Claire told Tony to watch football, and she’d take care of the kitchen. To Claire’s surprise, Mr. Anthony Rawlings joined his wife in their kitchen and scrubbed pans, counters, and stove tops. Watching him, Claire decided—he was even sexier washing dishes than he was in blue jeans.
After Thanksgiving, the house burst with Christmas decorations. Catherine told Claire that prior to her presence there hadn’t been any decorations. Claire found that hard to believe. She hadn’t asked for them; nevertheless, she did enjoy them.
This year’s display wasn’t as extravagant as it had been for the wedding—but it was festive. It was the perfect setting as they entertained friends and some of Tony’s business associates. Claire was happy to open the house for others to see its merry charm.
On the Saturday before their anniversary, they boarded Tony’s plane, and flew west. This time Hawaii was their destination. On their trip to Fiji, Tony had promised Claire the opportunity to enjoy the Hawaiian Islands. Being a man of his word, they had a ten day trip planned. Reminiscent of their honeymoon, they stopped in Los Angeles to refuel and continued another six hours to the island of Oahu, landing in Honolulu.
The difference with this trip was Claire knew her journey’s end. She understood that when they landed in Honolulu they needed to board an inter-island flight to take them to the island of Lanai. It was a romantic getaway—not as secluded as their private island in Fiji—but an island paradise nonetheless. Tony had asked Claire what she wanted—she’d said sunshine and warmth—Tony delivered.
Claire hadn’t told Tony—or anyone—that she wanted to go alone. Nevertheless, Lanai was as secluded as you could get, and Claire was happy to be alone—with her husband.
This time they had an exquisitely spectacular suite in a resort, complete the panoramic views of the Pacific Ocean. Without a doubt, Claire’s favorite amenity in Hawaii was their large private lanai which included a cabana bed, an intimate dining table, and lounge chairs. Tony explained that they’d have the suite for the entire stay, but they would also spend a few nights on other islands.
Since Tony now understood that Claire enjoyed sightseeing, he planned excursions for Kauai, Oahu, and the Big Island. Kauai’s spectacular cliffs, canyons, rainforests, and picturesque beaches took them two days and one night of exploration. Claire treasured being on Lumahai Beach, the place where South Pacific was filmed. In her mind, she could see Mary Martin singing. Tony also arranged a private sea tour. They saw spinner dolphins, monk seals, green sea turtles, as well as natural wonders, the Na Pai Coast, open ceiling cave, and Honopu Valley Arch.
The day they spent on Oahu, they arrived early on an inter-island plane, rented a car, and Tony drove them around the island. They reverently visited Pearl Harbor—walking hand in hand and reading plaques and names. Tony drove them up Pali Highway through trees and dense forest vegetation until the city below disappeared, and they found themselves in the clouds. It was Nuuanu Pali Outlook. They could see the Koolau Cliffs, amazingly lush coastline, and mountain peaks all from the stone terrace one thousand feet above the Oahu coast. The view was spectacular.
That evening, they returned to Lanai for more private and sensual explorations. Neither of them moved fast or needy. Instead, they both were thorough, sensual, and loving. The sea breeze and sound of the surf provided the ultimate aphrodisiac, and their lovemaking went on and on.
On the Big Island they enjoyed a two-hour helicopter tour of Volcano Park. This was a first-time experience for both of them, and they found the process of creation and destruction thrilling. Claire couldn’t help remembering the volcano on Mount Etna in Sicily, also active. In one year she had witnessed two active volcanoes erupting violently, yet without peril. Something told her she was pushing her luck. The pilot explained to them that Pele, the Volcano Goddess who lives in the volcano, was very unpredictable. It could continue to erupt for another one hundred years or it could quit tomorrow. Claire nodded her head; she understood unpredictability.
After the helicopter tour, they spent a few hours hiking trails which took them directly into volcanic craters, scalded deserts and rainforest, and a petroglyph. She had read about them, but to be in a volcanic tube exhilarated her
. Another Big Island activity Tony insisted they complete was to walk on the Black Sand Beach. Claire didn’t think she would like black sand, sand, after all, is supposed to be white, but it was unusual and magnificent. Removing their shoes, Claire felt the warmth of the black sand under her feet. She’d expected it to be hot. Actually, she’d experienced hotter white sand in Florida, another unpredictable conclusion.
Christmas day they spent on Lanai in their suite. Claire was prepared for the holiday this year. She had a gift for Tony, an exquisite d. Freemont Swiss watch which she’d purchased on Rodeo Drive in October. If he’d seen the bill—he hadn’t said a thing. On Christmas morning, he acted surprised and delighted—Claire knew how he appreciated punctuality.
Also planning ahead, Tony had a gift for Claire; however, his gift wasn’t as extravagant. Actually, it was very basic and left her speechless. He placed his surprise in a slightly larger black velvet box, the kind that might contain a necklace. At first, she thought he forgot her comment about black velvet boxes, but his grin told her otherwise. Slyly he said, “It isn’t jewelry, so I thought I could use a black box, but if you don’t want it—” He started to pull the box away.
Smiling, she replied, “No, I want it.” She grabbed the box—her curiosity getting the better of her. She lifted the lid to reveal a basic calling and texting only—cellular telephone. In times past, she’d opened velvet boxes to lavish diamonds and gold which hadn’t moved her like this inexpensive cellular phone.
With her emerald eyes glistening, Tony decided the accompanying lecture could wait.
Claire felt like she received the milestone of liberties. It was a wonderful Christmas. That night, lying on the cabana bed under the stars, they listened to the sound of waves in the distance. Completely relaxed, spooning in front of her husband, Claire’s mind went back to a snowy afternoon in Tony’s suite. That afternoon she’d made requests. She’d also made a request as they lay upon a rug in Lake Tahoe. Tonight, she realized, they’d all been granted. As her mind started to slip into sleep, she heard Tony say, “Merry Christmas, my love”—she hugged his strong arms—“What are you thinking?”
Make Me: Twelve Tales of Dark Desire Page 46