Текст книги "Truth "

Chapter 25

Summer 1985...

Despite the rising outdoor temperature and humidity, the mansion remained cool, too cool. Marie longed for a momentary reprieve. Emotions were running too high. Sighing, she settled onto one of the comfortable lounge chairs Nathaniel had ordered to Sharron’s balcony and accepted the sun’s warmth on her upturned face. A slight breeze tempered the June rays, as Marie inhaled the fresh country air. Sitting barefooted in a pair of shorts, she stretched her long legs out before her, and attempted to read. Despite the lovely afternoon, concentration was difficult. After all, the doctor was completing his most recent examination of Sharron on one of his now daily trips to the estate. Since he usually had one or two nurses for assistance, Marie found it better to allow them their space. When he was done, he’d sit down with Marie and Ms. Amanda and give his daily report. Of course, if Nathaniel or Mr. Samuel were home, they too would be included in the conference. Although, Marie knew Samuel and Amanda didn’t approve of her presence, she appreciated they’d momentarily quelled their objections.

Ms. Sharron continually outlived every prediction made by the physician. But, as Marie listened to the monitors and witnessed her expressions, she knew Ms. Sharron was ready to go. The beautiful, elderly, frail woman believed in a higher being, a merciful God and a heavenly paradise. After spending over two years at the woman’s side, Marie believed Sharron refused passage due to an unseen binding, bound to this earth by the chains of love. The afterworld, full of beauty and peace, was waiting. She just needed to let herself go.

Some would call it cruel, but after careful consideration, Marie and Nathaniel decided to be honest with her. Although her eyes hadn’t registered any recollection in months and her mouth no longer spoke, there were times when holding her hand she’d momentarily squeeze theirs, in return. The physician explained this as mere muscle contractions. He reasoned emotional humans try to read meaning into scientific phenomenons, where in fact, there was none. Marie didn’t care about his explanation. She believed there were times, Sharron could hear, understand, and communicate any way possible.

They’d discussed their speech many times. These discussions occurred alone in Marie’s suite –usually in her bed. If Sharron wouldn’t leave this world because of her bond to Nathaniel, he needed to tell her to go. Not as he would dismiss a servant or an employee, but with love and understanding. He needed to explain, he wanted her suffering to stop, and he would survive. He would live again. And this was the part they debated – he was living again. Not only living, he was loving.

They both hoped the knowledge of Nathaniel’s new life and new love would allow Sharron the peace to cross over. She could go where her body once again worked, where she could smile, sing and most importantly where pain, physical and emotional, ceased to exist.

The opportunity came only two nights ago, sometime after midnight. They’d been sitting in the plush high backed chairs, talking about something from Nathaniel’s work when Marie noticed Sharron’s eyes flutter and her hands open and close. Silently, Marie approached the far side of Ms. Sharron’s bed; Nathaniel did the same on the near side. Without speaking, they created a circle. Marie remembered the warmth and strength coming from Nathaniel. It was such a stark contrast to the cool fragility of Sharron.

It was one of those instances in your life where time ceases to exist. When Marie’s gaze went from Sharron’s uncharacteristically clear and knowing eyes, to the dark intense stare of Nathaniel, she felt her heart break and swell. Was that how it happened? Similar to a turtle’s shell, it shatters before it can grow. The pain that no medicine could treat produced tears which unapologetically streamed from Marie’s eyes. However, it wasn’t until she saw the same moisture escape from the dark eyes of the man she loved, that she felt the impending sobs within her chest, threatening the loving silence which filled the room.

Marie knew it wasn’t her place to speak. Oh, she didn’t have a problem directing Nathaniel while alone, but this was his speech. He needed to proceed at his own pace. It may be the only time she ever heard his voice crack, but she did. It was a gift few others receive, a forbidden view into his heart and soul.

“Sharron, it’s all right. I want you to let me go.” He continually exhaled, at a seemingly disproportionate rate to the breaths he took in. Finally, he continued, “I love you. I will always love you. And I know you love me. But you need to move on, for you, for all of us. Samuel and Amanda will be all right. Anton will be fine,” more exhaling and inhaling, “and we will miss you, but we will survive.”

Sharron squeezed both of the hands that held hers. Her eyes appeared to flit from one face to the other. Did she know? Was she giving her blessing? They’d never know for sure, but they could believe. Nathaniel’s voice gained strength, “I will never forget you, but I’ve found solace. Marie came into my life for you, but she’s helped me, too.” More breathing, “We’ve found comfort in one another.”

When he fell silent, Marie spoke, “Ms. Sharron, I promise to take care of Nathaniel, as much as he will allow. He will not be alone.”

Nathaniel’s eyes moved from his wife, to his companion, to her midsection. Marie looked away. Did he really want to reveal their secret? She couldn’t do it; again, it was his decision. “Sharron, this may shock you.” He grinned through the grief; Marie believed she heard a low laugh. “I know it did me. But dear, there’ll be another Rawls in the house. Our name will continue. We have a baby due the beginning of next year.”

Did she understand? She squeezed both hands again. Her eyes seemed to register every word, and she blinked two times. The next breath she took was one of the deepest she’d taken in a while. One more squeeze of their hands, and she fell asleep. Sharron hasn’t awoken since.

The sound of the French door opening behind her brought Marie back to the present. She moved her focus from the vast green landscape to the person now looming beside her chair. Expecting the nurse, Samuel’s presence caught her off guard.

Marie spun around, her feet feverishly pushing into her sandals. “Mr. Rawls, I didn’t know you were home.”

His stare was intense, as he lowered himself onto the adjacent lounge chair. Instead of speaking, he looked out at the blue sky. The growing silence magnified Marie’s unease. Only the rustle of the trees in the breeze was audible. Finally she asked, “Did you want something? Or are you waiting for the physician to finish his exam?”

“You like this lifestyle, don’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“I had you investigated. Did you seriously think I would allow someone to live in my house, care for my mother, and seduce my father without knowing her past?”

Marie stood abruptly. She moved toward the rail debating her response. If this were Nathaniel and they were alone, she would meet him head-on. This wasn’t Nathaniel. And she’d always addressed Samuel with respect, a kindness obviously not reciprocated.

“Mr. Rawls, your tone is making me uneasy.”

He stood, “Really, my tone? My words aren’t bothering you? The fact I just accused you of seducing my father – calling you what you are, a whore.”

“I believe you’re overwrought by your mother’s illness. I’m sure you don’t mean everything you’re saying.”

“You’re wrong. I mean every damn word. I will admit, the investigation was tricky, seeing as though you don’t use your first name.” She turned and glared, her gray eyes speaking the retort she wouldn’t allow her lips to say. He continued, “My investigator told me you were disowned by your family – they don’t want anything to do with you, after you disgraced them, after you gave birth to a bastard!”

Her blood boiled; she couldn’t contain her words. “Your investigator doesn’t have the whole story.”

“When my father hears this, once my mother is gone, you’ll be out on your ass!”

“Good luck with that.” Marie’s chin rose in defiance. “Your father knows the truth. I’ve told him everything. The truth is...” Marie straightened her stance and contemplated. After a protracted silence, she continued with more control and less emotion, “The truth is – you don’t deserve to know what happened. It’s none of your damn business.”

Samuel took a step toward her, infuriated by her insolate words and tone. This conversation could go so many different directions. Fortunately the destination would remain unknown as a petite blonde nurse offered a welcome interruption, politely knocking on the glass paned door, purposely making as much noise as possible, as she entered the stone balcony. “Excuse me, Mr. Rawls, Ms. Marie, the doctor would like to speak with you both.”

Samuel’s look would stop most people in their tracks. His brown eyes glowed with frightening intensity. Many people would be intimidated by the darkness; Marie was not. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt she had Nathaniel’s support. That knowledge propelled her forward. She’d seen those eyes before, in the man she loved. However, they hadn’t been directed at her, but at the man before her. Perhaps that was Samuel’s true source of animosity. She possessed the love and support he’d never received. Pity threatened her indignation until fear took over. What would Samuel do if he knew she were pregnant?

The report was the same: Ms. Sharron’s vitals continue to diminish. The IV kept her hydrated but without nutrients she’d be gone within hours or days. This time, the doctor did not expect a reprieve. Samuel, Amanda, and Marie listened as the doctor explained the probable sequence of internal events ultimately releasing Sharron from her earthly prison and stopping her respirations altogether.

The three sat in silence as the doctor and his staff gathered their belongings. “Mr. Rawls, I will once again offer my nurses to stay with Mrs. Rawls during these last few days. This is a difficult time for those emotionally bound to her. We can have a rotation here twenty-four hours.”

Nathaniel wasn’t present, granting Samuel the supreme position as decision maker. Marie sat straight and looked to Mr. Samuel. She wanted compassion, understanding, perhaps even respect for her years of service. She wanted to be the one monitoring the sweet lady. Instead, what Marie saw was contempt. Samuel’s sinister expression displayed his sudden ability to thwart her plans. His voice was smug and restrained, “Thank you, Doctor. I believe that would be best. Please have your nurses begin immediately.”

Amanda looked from her husband to Marie, back and forth. Finally, with a pompous smirk she spoke, “Then I guess it’s settled. Marie, you may pack your things. It seems everything is covered.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Rawls.” Despite their cruelty, Marie conducted herself with poise and dignity. They were after all in Ms. Sharron’s room. It wasn’t the place for an argument. “I believe I’ll wait for Mr. Rawls’ return before I begin that endeavor.”

Amanda smirked, “Marie, perhaps you’ve forgotten, I’m in charge of household staff. Nathaniel has more important issues than dealing with the help. Your services are no longer required.”

Ignoring Amanda’s directive, Marie walked toward the bed and squeezed Ms. Sharron’s hand. With tears in her eyes, Marie nodded respectfully to the nurses, gathered her composure and walked toward the door of the suite. She needed air. The day was beautiful. Her goal was the pool or perhaps gardens, anywhere away from Samuel and Amanda.

Marie’s mind spun as she approached the grand staircase taking in the gorgeous entry. The space below shone brightly and full of light, the high ceiling sparkled with reflective gold flakes glistening above the large glowing chandelier. A story below, sunlight seeped through beveled glass, creating prisms of color. Momentarily, Marie paused at the railing mesmerized by the rainbows dancing on the reflective sheen of the marble floor. It was as if the beautiful foyer was unaware that death lurked in the shadows.

 After descending a few steps Samuel’s gruff voice stalled her movement. Gripping the rail she remained facing forward, refusing to turn toward him. His words reached her loud and clear, “I would appreciate you to remember, staff uses the back stairs.” When Marie chose not to respond, Samuel moved closer, descending a few steps. “I am speaking to you.”

Her gray eyes shot shards of hate through the moisture she shed for the woman upstairs. “I can assure you, I heard you. Would you like me ascend, so I may descend again?”

“I would like you to ascend so you may fulfill the task my wife instructed.”

Marie turned away, exhaled audibly, and continued her descent. This time he stopped her progress with a tight grip to her right arm as he propelled himself in her path. “My father has a lot of important things happening with his work; he doesn’t need to be concerned with the employment of servants.” His heavy emphasis on the last word did not go unnoticed.

Marie’s chin rose in defiance. She stared directly into Samuel’s eyes. “I am aware of his concerns.”

“Oh, really?”

She didn’t owe Samuel anything. Nonetheless, she hoped her knowledge would stop his barrage, if only momentarily. “Yes, your father is currently in a meeting with Mr. Clawson and Mr. Mathews. That’s why he wasn’t able to be here for the doctor’s examination. However, he plans to be home as soon as he can. Your son is coming too.”

Samuel chuckled, “Well, I guess it’s true. If you want to know everything about someone,” he paused, “share a pillow.”

Marie freed her arm and attempted to step around the detour Samuel created. The prisms of light and color continued to dance across the floor, far below.

“We want you gone by the time he gets home.” It wasn’t a request.

Marie spun again, “I will not leave this home until your father asks me to do so.”

“So you actually think you will stay, after my mother is gone?”

“I think you disrespect your mother by speaking as if she’s already in heaven.”

His rage was fueled by multiple sources. His mother’s illness and impending death was unjust. She deserved so much more than she’d experienced. She deserved love and kind-ness, something Samuel couldn’t imagine she’d ever received from his tyrannical father. As he stared at Marie’s vain expression, he wanted to remove it forcibly from her smug face. He had never struck a woman, yet he questioned this woman’s true status. Believing her to be nothing more than a gold digging whore, Samuel questioned how Nathaniel could be deceived by this slut. Samuel reasoned it was due to his father’s increased stress with Rawls Corporation and Sharron’s worsening health. Fighting to contain his instincts, he reached once again for her arm, “I am dis-respecting her, when you’re fucking my...”

The front door opened as the prisms disappeared in a shower of light. Samuel and Marie’s loud, angry voices carried throughout the vast foyer and beyond. Nathaniel and Anton’s attention immediately went to the two people half way up the grand stairs.

Nathaniel’s booming voice superseded the two coming from above. He saw the tear stained face of his love and the menacing expression of his son. “What in the hell? ...” He watched as Marie’s expression turned toward him with obvious relief.

The next instant would replay over and over in his mind. Samuel’s hand was on Marie’s arm. She spun toward Nathaniel. Anton rushed forward, as if sensing the future. Amanda appeared at the rail above, seemingly to witness the commotion. But no, alas she had her own agenda. His daughter-in-law’s voice transcended the foyer, “The doctor said we all should be in Sharron’s room; it’s almost time.”

Samuel moved upward toward his wife. Did he push Marie? No, she simultaneously pulled away from his grip. Physics were nonnegotiable. The law of conservation of energy states energy can neither be created nor destroyed. It can only change form or be transferred from one object to another. As the two angry individuals exploded from their point of origin, they each used the contained momentum to propel themselves in their own desired direction.

The stair on which Marie stood was maybe ten or eleven inches wide. In her haste to reach Nathaniel, her sandaled foot misjudged the step. In slow motion, Nathaniel watched helplessly as his new love and the life of his unborn child tumbled downward. Her form rolled vulnerably, hitting each step with increased speed and power as she neared the marble landing.

Anton’s agility and quickness allowed him to reach her before she connected with the rock hard floor. Nonetheless, Nathaniel, Amanda, Samuel, and various curious staff, gasped in horror and stared powerlessly as Anton held Marie’s limp body.

The most precious possession that ever comes to a man in this world is a woman's heart. 

—Josiah G. Holland

Chapter 26

Claire woke slowly, enjoying the soft luxurious hotel sheets against her bare skin. Before her mind registered her location, she snuggled happily into the blankets. Suddenly, her knee contacted a warm leg. Claire gasped and stilled. Only inches away she heard the unfamiliar sound of rhythmic breathing and felt radiating heat. Opening her eyes she saw Harry’s tussled blonde hair. Momentarily, her mind replayed scenes from the night before as her knee mindlessly moved against Harry’s leg. It’d been so long since she’d awakened with anyone. She smiled and relished the softness of his leg hairs against her smooth skin.

Turning slightly toward the clock, Claire adjusted her eyes and read the numbers: 10:27. At first, she wondered where the morning had gone. Then she remembered dawn breaking through the dark sky, when they finally submitted to exhaustion and yielded to sleep. Dismissing the idea of leaving their secure haven, Claire peacefully closed her eyes, curled her body close to Harry, and savored the closeness.

In the recesses of her mind she recalled Harry’s confession; he’d anticipated them together since she purchased her first cellphone. Smiling, she contemplated her first thoughts of a union – when Harry first asked her to play video games. Although, she told Courtney his anti-Tonyisms drew her in; she acknowledged to herself, his unwavering kindness, concern, and support held her captive.

Grinning into her pillow, she recalled Harry’s prowess between the sheets. Prior to Tony, she’d been in a sexual slump. Simon was many years earlier, and they were just children. Between the two, there were a few nameless, meaningless men. Unquestionably, Tony’s sexual abilities were boundless. Nonetheless, the daunting reminder of his nonconventional introduction into her life and bed darkened every positive memory.

Gratified with Harry’s skills, Claire snuggled into the soft sheets, enjoyed his warmth and floated in and out of consciousness. Nearing eleven, Claire stirred as Harry eased his way out of bed. Her damaged self-esteem waited patiently for him to return. When he didn’t, she freed herself from the warm cocoon, shyly wrapped herself in her robe and wandered into the sitting area.

Tentatively stepping into the bright room, Claire found Harry standing in the sunshine, peering through the large window. A glistening vista filled with buildings and shimmering sea filled the large pane beyond his silhouette. Despite the beautiful view, Claire’s gaze focused on Harry’s firm bare torso, trim waist, and perfectly faded jeans. They were the same jeans from last night and hung perfectly around his hips with the top button undone. As she admired the vision, she noted the absence of visible boxer shorts. Suddenly contemplating their location, her insides tightened. If they are still in the bedroom – it meant – under his jeans...

Smirking, Claire shook her head and listened as Harry spoke on his Blackberry.

“That’s fine, send the email to me and I’ll review it.” “No, that can wait until Monday.” “Be sure Lee knows.” “Yesterday?” “No, I wasn’t aware.” “Have Lee call me as soon as he’s off the call.” “Thank you Rachel. I’ll check in later today.” He turned around and saw Claire.

Momentarily she feared her eavesdropping would upset him. However, Claire’s anxiety dissipated as Harry’s eyes lightened and a smile filled his handsome face. Slowly he walked closer keeping his glimmering eyes locked on hers.

Though he spoke into his Blackberry, his expression revived Claire’s feelings from last night. “Yes,” he said, “forward everything to my personal email. I can get it from my phone.” His eyebrows rose as he neared and discontinued his conversation, “Good bye, Rachel. You know how to reach me.”

He hit the disconnect button and flung his phone onto the couch.

Harry’s change in countenance eased Claire’s uncertainties about the night before. Suddenly her facial expression was beyond control. No longer did she wear a mask, her cheeks rose involuntarily, and the tips of her lips moved upward. She remembered Courtney’s question: does he make you smile? She knew the answer and momentarily considered calling her friend and screaming – YES, he does! However, her desire to remain within Harry’s grasp prevailed.

“Hey, Beautiful Lady, I called room service and ordered coffee.” His wrapped his arms around her waist. “It should be here soon.” He moved so close, Claire needed to look up to see his blue eyes.

“That sounds wonderful. It’s way too late for my first cup.”

Lowering his lips to her forehead, Harry asked, “Did you sleep well?”

Her arms encircled the torso she’d been admiring, and she murmured, “Hmmm, I did. You?”

“Much better than I would’ve on that couch.”

Claire grinned into his chest, thinking so many questions. What did this mean for their friendship? Truthfully, she wasn’t looking for anything long term. And she didn’t want to hurt him, but selfishly, the closeness felt wonderful. Every inch of her craved more of what they’d shared.

“Harry,” she began shyly, “maybe we should talk about...” His hand gently lifted her chin, slowing her words. When their lips connected, her words ceased.

“How about we talk later?”

Claire didn’t reason or think. Instead, she nodded and her body responded carnally without modesty. His hands untied the belt of her robe and slowly eased the fabric from her shoulders. As it fell to her feet, she pushed toward his warmth and security. From within the confines of his jeans, Claire felt his straining erection against her hip.

Moving his gaze down her body and back up to her emerald green eyes, Harry asked, “Do you know how gorgeous you are?”

She fought the urge to look down modestly and replied, “You make me feel that way.”

“You should always feel that way.” His hands cupped her behind as he pulled her nude body against him. The rough denim fabric burnished her suddenly sensitive skin. Their mouths united as Claire welcomed Harry’s tongue through her parted lips.

This time she remembered the condom. “Do you have any more protection?”

Harry released his embrace, grasped her hand, and led her to the bedroom. Going to the bedside stand, he opened his wallet, and with a triumphant look produced a small silver square packet.

Claire’s smile and lifted eyebrows begged the question, did you expect this?

“What can I say? Once a Boy Scout ... always prepared.” His infectious levity made her giggle. Harry crawled on the bed and patted the mattress. She willing followed, unable to restrain the large ridiculous smile overtaking her face.

Gently easing her onto the pillows Harry moved to the foot of the bed. With his own devilish snicker, he allowed his lips to brush the skin of her ankle, calf, knee, thigh, hips, and stomach. By the time he reached her breasts, Claire’s expression morphed into a pleasure clouded gaze, and her back arched as he teasingly suckled each nipple.

Weaving her fingers through his unruly hair, she asked the question burning in her mind, “How many of those packets do you have?”

Harry lifted his eyes to hers. “This is my last one.” She exhaled. “I suppose we’d better make it count.”

The thought alone electrified her skin, taking her beyond words. She gasped as her head foolishly bobbed in response.

She heard him say, “I know a few other ways to utilize our resources,” as his kisses moved back toward her stomach and south.

Acquiescing to his suggestion, Claire fell against the soft pillows and allowed her body to enjoy the excursion.

******

Phillip Roach reviewed the video: 23:42:34 Mr. Rawlings leaves Claire’s suite. Phillip notes she appears unharmed, perhaps slightly stunned, as she closes the door. Phil rubbed his temples and ridiculed himself for sending the note. Thankfully, since he hadn’t heard from Mr. Rawlings, he assumed Claire managed to hide its existence from his employer. There was something in Mr. Rawlings’ voice as he waited in that car, something which alarmed Phil. Now, shaking his head at the stilled image of Ms. Nichols closing the door while simultaneously looking into her closed hand, Phil acknowledged Claire’s talent. This petite woman could influence Mr. Rawlings, in ways few others could.

The video restarted, 03:17:25, Ms. Nichols had a crowd at her door. Listening to the dialogue prior to the door opening, Phil determined Harrison Baldwin to be the one to gather the group. Baldwin looked and sounded tense while he banged on her door. As Claire appeared, she looked recently awakened, having slept in her clothes. Though her face was barely visible through the crowd and Baldwin’s embrace, she looked uncharacteristically disheveled.

The others went away while Baldwin entered the suite. Phil rewound the feed and listened again. Though difficult to hear everything, it sounded as though they said something about charges. Claire specifically said no charges to the police woman.

The camera didn’t activate again until 11:13:48, when Mr. Baldwin opened the door to allow room service to enter with a cart, the exchange polite and short. Baldwin wore the same clothes from the night before.

13:37:16, Mr. Baldwin pushed the cart into the hall and left the suite. 14:16:32, Ms. Nichols exits her suite wearing a beach cover-up, hat, sunglasses, and flip-flops and carrying a beach bag.

Phil decided to get a closer look at Claire’s suite. He stopped on his way to the pool. When he reached her door, he found it ajar with a housekeeping cart parked before her entrance. Casually Phillip Roach stepped around the cart and waved to the housekeeper, in the bedroom changing the sheets. Noticing the blanket and sheet upon the couch, Phil grinned and clicked a picture. Although, it was none of his business, he suspected Mr. Rawlings would be as happy about this discovery as he.

Phil clicked a picture of the coffee table with an empty bottle of wine and three glasses. Next, he nodded politely to the housekeeper, left the suite, and walked toward the pool.

Easing into a lounge chair shadowed by a large umbrella, Phil’s eyes settled upon his new obsession. Despite her eventful night with multitudes of visitors, Claire looked rested and relaxed, casually lounging under a deep burgundy umbrella, her bare legs stretched out before her, wearing a black bikini. On the table to her left, Phil saw her iPhone, a plate with part of a sandwich, and a tall glass with amber liquid. The lemon upon the rim and the small bowl of various colored sweetener packets indicated the glass contained iced tea. Her sunglasses were on top of her head as she read from the iPad.

He leaned back, snapped a photo and began his email to Mr. Rawlings.

******

Claire adjusted her eyes to her iPad. As long as she kept it out of the sunshine and her sunglasses off, she could read the screen. Sighing, she reread Meredith’s blog for the third time. The content wouldn’t change. She wasn’t seeking new information – only assessing. The procedure felt strangely familiar, evaluating each new situation for possible fallout. She’d lived two years of her life that way, taking-in everything around her, and gauging if, no not if – how Tony would react. Claire no longer feared physical retaliation; yet, part of her felt the need to placate Meredith’s blog, hoping to mellow his response. Claire reread:

Freedom of Speech

While Freedom of Speech is protected by the First Amendment of the United States Constitution, it is not apparently immune to money and influence. I wrote a retraction scheduled to appear today in Rolling Stone and People Magazine. It was a retraction to an article I wrote over three years ago. (Hyperlink to 2010 article)

As an independent correspondent, I have experienced the highs and lows of our ever changing world of media. In the past, I’ve proposed ideas which have been accepted or rejected in principal. Never, until now, have I had a publication refuse to print my finished product, after first accepting the concept.

 (Hyperlink to Rolling Stone article) and (Hyperlink to People Magazine article); for the record, my retraction was to include additional information which these esteemed publications have since refused to print. A third nationally recognized magazine refused to print any of my retraction.

In an effort to inform the public, as is your right to know, my blog will serve as the sounding board designed to reach the masses. Here, as is my right, I will write what no magazine was willing to print:

Ms. Claire (Rawlings) Nichols has agreed to sit down with me and openly discuss her relationship, marriage, and divorce with Anthony Rawlings. Mr. Rawlings is one of this country’s leading entrepreneurs and listed as one of the top ten wealthiest people in the United States. His influence in the world of business is without bounds. That same influence has been working overtime to stop Ms. Nichols’ right to free speech.

As of yet, I do not know any details of their relationship. It is, however, my opinion that since Mr. Rawlings’ legal team is working diligently to contain her voice, the final product will be worth writing... and reading!