The Consequences Series Box Set

by Aleatha Romig

  She didn’t reply. She was busy enjoying the sensation of his lips. It started with her fingers, moved to her hand, arm, shoulder, and by the time he reached the nape of her neck, Claire was moaning and lost to the world around her.

  “May I get you out of this wet suit, Ms. Nichols?” he emphasized her name.

  She answered heatedly, “Yes… and Mr. Rawlings, there’s always hope.”

  Text message, from Claire’s iPhone to Harry’s number:

  “THE PLANE IS ABOUT TO TAKE OFF FROM IOWA CITY. IT’S A LITTLE AFTER 4:00 PM. SHOULD BE IN PALO ALTO AROUND 6:15 PM OR 6:30 PM PST” She hit SEND.

  Then, thinking about it more, she wrote a second message:

  “THANK YOU FOR PICKING ME UP.”

  She settled into the plush, white leather of the reclining chair and fastened her seat belt. Closing her eyes, she tried to think about Harry; however, her thoughts continually returned to Tony.

  The copilot, a woman Claire didn’t know, spoke. The competent voice returned Claire from her daydreams. “Ms. Nichols, we are about to take off. If you’d like to make any calls or send any messages, please complete them in the next few minutes. Once we are at cruising altitude, I’ll be happy to get you anything you need.”

  “Thank you.” Claire read her name badge. “Grace, I think I’m going to try to sleep.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The woman disappeared behind the door to the cockpit.

  Claire removed her phone one more time. With an uncontained smile she wrote:

  “THANK YOU FOR A LOVELY WEEKEND. I’M SO THANKFUL I WAS ABLE TO ATTEND THE WEDDING.” SEND.

  She saw the icon for an incoming message:

  “I WILL BE THERE.”

  Claire frowned. It was from Harry. His normal pleasantries were gone. She knew without a doubt, tonight’s conversation wouldn’t be pleasant. A beep and another message:

  “I HOPE THAT WAS NOT THE ONLY PART OF THE WEEKEND YOU ENJOYED?”

  Her grin returned; the plane was starting to move. She replied:

  “I BELIEVE THERE WERE OTHER PARTS TOO. BUT SINCE YOUR PLANE IS MOVING, I NEED TO TURN OFF MY PHONE—CAN’T ELABORATE.”

  She hit SEND and turned her phone to Airplane Mode.

  With the seat reclined and a soft light blanket, Claire drifted off to sleep. It had been a long eventful four days. Just before sleep, she realized Tony was right about something else: this was a nicer way to fly.

  Simultaneously, another text message conversation occurred. Interestingly, this one too was volleying between Iowa City and Palo Alto:

  IC (Iowa City): “WHAT NEW INFORMATION DO YOU HAVE RE: BREAK IN?”

  PA (Palo Alto): “BUILDING SECURITY TO SEND ME ENLARGED IMAGE OF PERP—WILL FORWARD AS SOON AS I RECEIVE. NOT CLEAR ENOUGH TO BE USED WITH RECOGNITION SOFTWARE.”

  IC: “SEND VIA E-MAIL, EASIER TO ENLARGE ON MY END.”

  IC: “MS NICHOLS WILL ARRIVE PALO ALTO AFTER 6:00 PM, PST. KEEP HER IN YOUR VIEW UNTIL SAFELY RETURNED TO HER CONDO. ARE YOUR SENSORS IN PLACE?”

  PA: “YES SIR. MS MCCOY JUST EXITED UNIT.”

  IC: “SHE IS GOING OUT OF TOWN”.

  PA: “HER FLIGHT PLAN IS FOR LOS ANGLES WITH RETURN FLIGHT THURSDAY.”

  Phil wanted to show Mr. Rawlings he knew what was happening.

  IC: “KEEP ME CONSTANTLY APPRISED”

  PA: “YES SIR.”

  Patrick waited by the exit to her terminal. He didn’t know if she had checked luggage or not, but he could follow from a distance. It took some patience, but he had the panel van parked right next to her Honda Accord. The element of surprise was always the best. It wasn’t like he’d ever kidnapped anyone before, but he’d watched enough episodes of crime shows to know the necessary tools and form a well thought out plan.

  He double-checked the monitor. Yes, this was her flight; nevertheless, as passenger after passenger passed, she was AWOL. Didn’t first class usually deplane first?

  After the stream of people waned, Patrick walked confidently to the American Airlines counter. “Excuse me,” he said politely. “I’m waiting for a friend. She was supposed to be on Flight 1103 from Iowa. Can you tell me if she made her flight?”

  Once Patrick gave the attendant Claire’s information, the man checked his computer. “I’m sorry, sir. We don’t have anyone by that name scheduled on this flight. Perhaps she changed her reservations.”

  “Can you check?”

  “No, sorry.” The attendant looked disgusted. “Privacy issues, you know? I can’t look in her account. I can see if she’s on another flight scheduled to arrive later today.”

  Patrick’s heart raced; damn this was going to be perfect. Maybe there was still a chance. “Yes, please.”

  After prolonged scanning, the attendant confessed, “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t see a Claire Nichols on any of our flights. United has two coming in this evening from Iowa City. Perhaps she switched carriers.”

  “Thank you.” Patrick huffed as he walked away. Now what?

  Derek’s face filled the screen of Sophia’s laptop. It amazed Sophia how even half a world apart, his voice sounded like they were in the same room. “I called corporate. She’s on her way back to California, and she’s being reassigned.”

  Sophia couldn’t believe her ears. “So, what are you going to do about an assistant?”

  “They’ll assign me a temporary replacement, and when I get back, I guess I get to start interviewing potential candidates.”

  “I’m really sorry I was right about Danni’s intentions.” She smiled into the camera. “However, I’m very glad you stopped her in her tracks.”

  “Yea, Baby, I need to get some work done here. I just wanted to be honest with you.”

  Sophia’s smile transcended the oceans. “Thank you. When will you be home?”

  “I’m scheduled to fly back Friday. I hope this doesn’t postpone things.”

  “Me either. I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” Derek said as he disconnected their Skype call.

  For a few moments, Sophia stared at the blank screen. She couldn’t believe Danni flew all the way to China to seduce her husband. Of course, that wasn’t the reason she listed on her travel request. It had something to do with negotiation assistance.

  “Sophie, did I hear that husband of yours in here?” Carlos asked as he walked into Sophia’s kitchen.

  “No, Pop. Remember, he’s in China. I was just talking to him on the computer.”

  “China? He’s in China? Why would he be there? He should be here with you. He could help me make some more frames. I think we can get a few more sketches stretched today.”

  “That sounds great. I want to be back to California by Friday.”

  “You and that man of yours need to move back here. New Jersey is where you belong.”

  “Yes, Pop.”

  She decided not to remind him that here was Provincetown not Princeton. It wouldn’t matter in another ten minutes anyway. She and her mom told him a hundred times about Derek’s trip to China.

  Sophia smiled as she thought about her father’s agenda for stretching sketches. Why could he remember some things and not others?

  If she hadn’t spent the past week with him, she wouldn’t have believed how far he had deteriorated. Sophia wanted to talk to her mom about hired help. She worried her mom was doing too much. Sometimes, you just need help.

  Chapter Fifty

  Anger is not the opposite of love, for the opposite of love is indifference. To be angry is to care tremendously.

  —Doris Moreland Jones

  Tony woke with a start; his wife—for just over a month—rolled from his shoulder to her side. In the silence, he heard Claire’s soft rhythmic breathing. She was sleeping peacefully. A far cry from earlier. Closing his eyes, he remembered their night, their words, and her tears. When they went to bed, everything was fine. Then out of nowhere, she told him she was bored and wanted to join him on business trips. Normally, he’d like that, but lately nothing was normal; he had to
o many fires to count. Fires Claire never would or could understand.

  Truthfully, he’d been holding so much in lately, so many issues: Rawlings Industries, Sophia Rossi—no, Burke, and John Vandersol.

  Lifting his head to his elbow, he watched her. Tony couldn’t fathom how someone so seemingly compliant could so easily incite his emotions. He could keep his cool in the middle of chaos, yet a few simple words from her and his reactions were uncontrollable. No, Tony thought, not uncontrollable. He’d gone there once. He wouldn’t go there again.

  Then why did she need to remind him? Her insolent question… when he told her she had invitations, but he had chosen not to share them, explaining he wanted her safe from more accidents… she had the audacity to ask… from whom? Tony’s body trembled with pent-up anger—from whom? He knew what she was implying. Of course, she said, from whom were the invitations… but Tony knew what she meant—from whom would an accidents occur. It wasn’t like he didn’t think about that every damn day! He’d never regretted his actions more, but you can’t turn back time.

  There was something about Claire, something about her veiled assertiveness, something which provoked Tony like no one else. She could bring out the best in him. No question, as he watched her petite body curl into a ball and snuggle into the soft pillow, he wanted to please her. Not just please, love, indulge, spoil, and pamper her beyond her greatest dreams; however, she could also elicit the worst in him. Tonight was no exception.

  Damn, if he didn’t want to wake her and tell her he was sorry—explain that she was experiencing his frustration with so many other things. He thought about her words: Thank you, I’d really like to see Courtney and Sue. She had the uncanny ability to say the right thing. Nevertheless, he questioned her sincerity… could she be playing him? Had he fallen victim to her persuasion? Is that why he offered Phoenix?

  Tony slid out of bed, stood silently, and watched as Claire remained sleeping. He wouldn’t be as cautious upstairs, but he wanted to leave the room. Ironically, it was her desire to leave, which escalated tonight’s emotion. Nonetheless, if she were awake, then he wouldn’t be able to leave her in his suite—alone. Her rhythmic breathing continued. Tony eased himself into a pair of nylon shorts and a t-shirt and quietly entered the corridor.

  His bare feet padded the marble hall into the foyer, past the grand stairs, and toward his office. The path was dark, yet he knew every step. Quietly, he eased himself into the confines of his grand office, pushed the switch, and illuminated the room.

  Bored! She said she was bored. Tony tried to push Claire from his thoughts. He hit the mouse and watched his desktop come to life. Searching his private inbox, he found the email he’d been anticipating:

  To: Anthony Rawlings

  From: Cameron Andrews

  Subject: Ms. Burke

  Date: January 26, 2011

  Although Ms. Burke is now living in Boston in her husband’s apartment, I’ve just confirmed they made an offer on a small cottage in Provincetown, Mass. I’ll notify you immediately if their offer is accepted.

  Derek Burkes’ employment record is straight forward. I’ve attached his dossier. I will continue to monitor. Please inform me if you would like my activities to change in any way. CA

  Tony fired off a response:

  To: Cameron Andrews

  From: Anthony Rawlings

  Subject: Ms. Rossi-Burke

  Date: January 27, 2011

  Let me know the value of the cottage and their offer.

  He hit SEND.

  Tony rubbed his temples and silently berated himself. He’d looked away for a couple of weeks. A couple of weeks to marry and honeymoon and everything changed—Sophia married! She wasn’t even seeing anyone when he went to her art show in New England, the beginning of December—just two weeks before his own wedding.

  Closing his eyes, he remembered seeing her across the room. She was stunning, wearing a long red gown with sparkling, dangling earrings which hung to her shoulders. It wasn’t a style he’d like on Claire, but they looked beautiful on Sophia. Her people skills were constantly improving; her gray eyes looked confident and steadfast.

  Then a month later, she not only married. She married Derek Burke.

  Derek Burke wasn’t a large blip on Tony’s radar screen, but Tony knew of him. When Sherman Nichols, aka Cole Mathews, worked to bring Nathaniel Rawls and all of Rawls Corporation down, he was assisted by Jonathon Burke, a securities officer. Their testimony, along with Anton’s father’s, hammered the final nails in Nathaniel’s coffin, literally, as far as Tony was concerned.

  Nathaniel’s quest was to return the favor: to bring down these men and their families. Sherman had one son, Jordon, who had two daughters, Emily and Claire. Jonathon had one daughter, Allison. Though married, she had no children. Well, at first they thought she had a daughter, Cindy. It later turned out Cindy wasn’t her biological child, but rather the child of her husband’s sister. All very complicated. The first miscue on their road to fulfilling Nathaniel’s quest; after Allison and her husband tragically perished in a hiking accident, Cindy was left alone. Marie reached out, posing as one of Allison’s old friends. Since that time, Cindy has worked on the estate. All of her needs were met: college tuition—she was currently taking online courses, clothes, and housing. She has also accumulated a nice nest egg. Never would Cindy suspect her saviors were anything but.

  The direct line of Jonathon Burke was gone.

  Nevertheless, the reason Derek Burke was on Tony’s radar was in reality Cindy was his cousin; Derek’s grandfather was Jonathon’s brother. In the past month, Tony had spent a great deal of time learning more about Derek Burke. A few of Tony’s recent trips weren’t business at all. He couldn’t very well take Claire to watch the new Mr. and Mrs. Burke in person.

  Tony’s observation: Derek was nothing like Sophia. Their relationship wouldn’t last.

  Past suitors were tested, induced with great temptations. All failed. Sophia may have interpreted it as personal failure; however, Tony believed he was only accelerating the future, in essence, saving her from greater heartache. He needed to decide how to do the same with Derek; test him, before it was too late. This would take time.

  After all, just because Tony allowed his defenses to wane, he couldn’t allow Sophia’s rash decision to change his ultimate plans. Her art career was finally receiving warranted attention. She truly had talent. He even owned many of her pieces. They were displayed in New York, Phoenix, and Dallas… if he remembered correctly. It didn’t seem right to have her work displayed at the estate. Damn, if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with Claire…

  Leaning back in his luxurious leather chair, Tony’s mind slipped back to his wife. He didn’t regret marrying her; it surprised him how much he usually enjoyed being with her. In the past, beautiful women had their purpose, like anything else: a nice car, a priceless antique… It took Tony awhile to realize Claire was different, not someone to use when he wanted and forget until the desire returned. No, she wasn’t like one of his many expensive cars, and she wasn’t just a beautiful ornament to have on his arm at functions, although she played that role to perfection.

  Tony’s realization hit months ago when he realized it didn’t matter if she were dressed in designer gowns with perfect hair and perfect make-up or newly awake with no make-up and tussled hair. He no longer saw the difference. For a man who valued outward appearance as much as Anthony Rawlings, that insight was shocking.

  When he first brought her to the estate, he never intended to enjoy her, much less love her. Truthfully, it was initially determined she and her sister would have accidents, much sooner—years sooner, like their parents; however, as he began following Claire and her life, there was an undeniable attraction; then at her parent’s funeral, for no particular reason, Tony fought the urge to comfort her. At that moment, he knew he wanted her for himself. Truthfully, Emily’s survival has been a byproduct.

  As a man who makes money—lots of money, buying and se
lling, rarely does Anthony Rawlings become emotionally vested in projects or people. Initially, he saw Claire the same way; however, after his acquisition, as weeks and months passed, despite her situation, she worked her way into his being—into every fiber. Her strength to meet him with eyes on fire while her words and body appeased, fascinated Tony. Never had anyone done that.

  Smiling, he recalled their amazing honeymoon. The isolation of the island paradise kept he and Claire within the confines of a private bubble, yet as always, life intervenes. Back to Iowa meant disruptions. Being a multibillion dollar company, there were always issues with Rawlings Industry. The stock price was up, but there were always fires in need of dousing. A recent acquisition in Missouri was currently raging.

  On top of Rawlings Industries and Sophia, Tony had to deal with John Vandersol. The man absolutely infuriated Tony. Never had he met a more arrogant, self-righteous prick. Tony did his research. He knew John was accomplished. Every account Tony uncovered was flattering, some to the point of nausea. It was hard to believe anyone could be as perfect as everyone’s account of John Vandersol.

  During their first meeting, Tony was determined to play nice, for Claire. It was after all, his olive branch to his fiancée. Thanksgiving went well. The ladies didn’t seem to recognize the subtle feather ruffling and posturing, which occurred on multiple occasions.

  He tried to endure John because of Emily, Claire’s sister. Tony knew Claire wanted to see her family, and he also knew Claire obeyed his rules while alone with her sister. After all, he listened intently to the recordings of each private conversation; from their after dinner catch-up in New York, to their giggling girls’ sleep over prior to the wedding. Never once did Claire allude to her and Tony’s less than conventional beginning. He was extremely proud of his wife’s obedience.