Текст книги "Truth "
Автор книги: Aleatha Romig
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 24 (всего у книги 42 страниц)
Nathaniel had a trip scheduled to Europe, more specifically Geneva, soon. He planned to ask Marie to accompany him. Maybe, he’d even share his Switzerland investments with her. He hadn’t shared those with anyone. There was something about starting with nothing, that made a man want a reserve, a card in the hole, so to speak.
Focusing back on his desk, Nathaniel read Clawson’s latest report. There were two struggling companies in Ohio that looked ripe for the picking. There were also multiple possibilities in Illinois, but that was a trickier battle ground. Sometimes greasing hands cost more than actual purchases.
As he shuffled the reports, a manila folder caught his attention. It was the report Samuel presented to him while Marie struggled to survive the accident. Nathaniel thought his son’s timing couldn’t have been worse. If he would have learned anything from Samuel’s investigation, it was unlikely he’d have kicked her out of his home while she was recovering from internal injuries. Nathaniel shook his head. He continued to hope for Samuel’s business prowess. Hope may dawn eternal, but it wasn’t worth a dime in the face of tenacity. Perhaps there was hope for Anton, or children yet to come.
Nathaniel stuffed Samuel’s report in his side private file drawer, under C for Catherine Marie. After all, with any hope her last name would soon change – to Rawls.
The best laid schemes o' mice an' men.
–Robert Burns
Chapter 33
The traffic slowed as the SiJo limousine moved in short bursts. Claire recognized the sensation, after an almost hour long ride she was finally nearing her destination. Even though it had been a long time since she’d rode in the back of a limousine, her opinion hadn’t changed. She liked driving better. It gave her more of a sense of location and direction.
Through the tinted windows she saw multitudes of people gathered behind velvet ropes. Looking around the vast cabin of the car, she wished desperately for Harry. How had their evening changed so dramatically, so fast? Claire tried to convince herself it was all coincidence, but a voice in the back of her head warned otherwise.
Just before the SiJo car arrived to take them to the gala, Amber and Harry’s phones rang. The urgent message to both of them was the same: the computer systems at SiJo Gaming had been hacked. It wasn’t just their current operations, but also prospective projects and technology. One of their designers recently created a unique application which theoretically threatened cellphone gaming forever, the next Angry Birds. That new creation was in jeopardy. To make it worse, clients’ billing information had been assessed – a potentially huge public relations problem for SiJo. If they couldn’t keep billing information secure, no one would ever buy their games.
Fortunately, the breach was discovered virtually minutes after it occurred. Unfortunately, it doesn’t take long in computer terms to steal millions of gigs of information. Everyone was needed back at SiJo immediately to work on the problem; every creator, forensic specialist, computer specialist, everyone.
As the car inched forward, Claire thought dreamily about Harry in his tuxedo with his hair gelled into place. Despite his unease in such an outfit, he looked wonderful, sexy, and handsome. Mostly he looked different – a very good different.
It was painful to watch his expression. Claire could tell immediately he was torn. He wanted to go to SiJo: his skill set was needed. It’s his sister’s company, and he’d do anything to protect it. That being said, Claire knew he also wanted to be with her.
After Amber hung up she looked at both of them and said, “I can’t believe this! Harry, if you want to make an appearance at the gala and then come to SiJo, I understand. Lee’s at SiJo, but we need you sooner rather than later.”
It would have been easier for Claire to assure Amber and Harry of her ability to attend the gala alone if they hadn’t just learned of Tony’s attendance. Truly, Claire didn’t mind going alone; although, she hated the idea of being unescorted and seeing some gorgeous model on Tony’s arm. The idea rekindled ideas about him attending this gala in 2010, while she was held captive in his house.
Thoughts start out as single idea: attend the gala alone, and soon stream together: Tony with gorgeous companion, and become a river flowing uncontrollably: he went out with other women while I was there; what did he do with those women? Claire knew what he did with her, many late nights when he’d return home. If she hadn’t had the medical examination in prison, these thoughts surly would have propelled her straight to the doctor checking for every possible disease known to man.
Before the figurative damn broke and her thoughts became too difficult to contain, Claire secured her formal mask and spoke earnestly to her friends, “I’ll be fine. You two do whatever needs to be done. SiJo has enough problems right now without wasting two dinners at this gala.”
Amber responded, “The tickets are part of the donation. If you don’t want to go alone, I understand.”
Claire kissed Harry’s cheek and spoke sincerely, “You two go do what you do. I’ll do the one thing I’m good at doing. I’ll hob-knob for SiJo. I will do my best to make you two and Simon proud. Now go!”
Harry’s angst quickly turned to relief. He kissed Claire. Not on the cheek, as she’d done, but a kiss full of emotion. His lips took hers as his arms embraced her. She sensed thankfulness at her understanding and concern for her evening alone. Thankfully, Amber turned away and pretended not to notice. His voice was strong, “You’re amazing. IF you need me, call and I’ll get there as soon as possible.”
“I’m a big girl. I’ll see you here later tonight.”
Amber looked at her phone. Her words staccato, “Claire, the car is here.”
Harry volunteered, “I’ll walk her to the car and meet you in the basement garage.”
Now, alone in the limousine, through the windows, Claire watched the people in the car before hers. They were waving to the people behind the velvet ropes. Claire remembered Harry’s penetrating blue eyes as he helped her into the SiJo car. His voice was slow and steady, “I know you’re a big girl, but if you have any problems with Mr. Rawlings, call me immediately. I hate not being with you. You should know every man there will want to be your escort. You are undoubtedly the most beautiful, brave, and intelligent woman I know.”
His words warmed her soul. She smiled bashfully as he closed the door to the SiJo car.
That same car now stopped. While Claire waited for the driver, or an attendant, to open her door, she secured her mask. As the door opened, the voices from behind the rope came into range.
“Ms. Nichols, why are you representing SiJo Gaming?”
“Ms. Nichols, how does it feel to be out of prison?”
She followed Tony’s instructions, from so long ago at the Symphony, “Do not act surprised or shocked. Just flash a beautiful smile and radiate confidence.” Claire smiled, nodded politely to the crowd, and gracefully made her way into the Saint Regis Hotel.
Once through the front door, a woman with an ear piece and an electronic tablet approached. Claire noticed multiple people fitting that description, all directing attendants through a set of double doors.
“Hello, welcome to The Saint Regis. May I have your name and the name of the company you’re representing?”
“Claire Nichols, SiJo Gaming.”
“Yes, Ms. Nichols, I see your name. There is also a Mr. Harrison Baldwin registered. Is he with you this evening?”
“No, he was unfortunately detained. I will be representing SiJo Gaming alone.”
“I see. If you could please follow the others through the double doors ahead and to your left, you will receive further instructions. Thank you for joining us this evening.”
Claire answered affirmatively and followed the others through the double doors. Once inside, she found herself in a large room. Men in black tuxedos and women in beautiful gowns stood in groupings, while waiters and waitresses mingled about with trays. Some of the trays contained flutes of champagne while others held hors d’oeuvres. Claire’s stomach twisted as whiffs of caviar, smoked salmon, and pâtés lofted through the air. She’d meant to eat something before she left the condo. However, the glitches at SiJo changed her plans.
Before Claire could give food much thought, a young man explained, “In about twenty minutes you’ll need to step to those doors. At that time you’ll be announced as you enter the gala. Do you have any questions?”
Claire said she did not. Once again she was standing alone in a sea of people. Gathering her inner socialness, Claire scanned the room. As she looked from couple to couple, a nice older man and woman approached, “Hello, Ms. Nichols?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Jonas Cunningham. This is my wife, Hilary.”
Claire extended her hand. Mr. Cunningham continued, “We’re from Shedis-tics. I believe we’ll be sharing a table.”
Claire filled with immediate relief. It was so nice to talk to someone whom she would be seeing throughout the night. “Yes, I believe we are. It is nice to meet you.”
The three spoke for a few minutes when another woman with an earpiece politely interrupted. “Excuse me, Ms. Nichols?”
Claire responded, “Yes, I’m Ms. Nichols.”
“If you would please follow me, your presence is requested in another room.”
Claire nodded to the Cunninghams and followed the woman leading her away from the doors she’d been told to exit. When they were on the fringe of the reception room, Claire asked, “Excuse me, everyone else is going another direction. What did you mean, my presence is requested?”
The young woman answered, “If you’ll follow me, I’m sure you’ll understand.”
The voice Claire heard earlier, the one warning her about the coincidence of SiJo’s recent problems, began speaking with an alarming tone.
*****
After almost thirty minutes in the waiting room, Sophia wasn’t sure what else to call it, she and Derek were escorted to the main ballroom. The large double doors opened to a great beautiful vista. The outside was suddenly in, highlighted by a flowing fountain under a glass atrium ceiling. It reminded Sophia of fountains in Italy, complete with glittering sculptures, a continual shower, and an enormous pool.
Everywhere she looked Sophia saw finely dressed people in tuxedos and gowns moving gracefully from place to place. The hum of polite chatter and soft music filtered through the air as their names were announced: Mr. and Mrs. Derek Burke of Shedis-tics Incorporated. Holding tight to her husband’s elbow, they made their way to the floor. Immediately, a gentleman approached and introduced himself and his wife.
“Derek, this is my wife Hilary.”
Derek shook her hand and introduced Sophia. “I’m pleased to meet you, Hilary. This is my wife Sophia. Sophia, this is my boss Roger Cunningham and his wife Hilary.”
As the men began to discuss the economy and expectations for the future, Hilary Cunningham pulled Sophia under her wing. Her motherly voice offered more advice than Sophia wanted, “My dear, you look beautiful. I’m so glad to meet you. Roger speaks very highly of Derek. They’re all so happy he agreed to come to Shedis-tics. How do you like Santa Clara? How do you like San Francisco? How about the beach, do you like the beach? Have you two had a chance to drive into the mountains? They are simply beautiful this time of year...”
Although she was trying with all her might, Sophia couldn’t keep up with Hilary’s questions. It was as if the woman never paused to breathe. How was Sophia expected to answer?
Finally Mrs. Cunningham moved them away from their husbands. “Let me introduce you to some of the other wives. Listening to the men talk shop all night can get a little tiresome.”
Sophia looked to Derek who appeared completely engrossed in Mr. Cunningham’s words. Unwittingly, Sophia allowed herself to be directed around the room. Hilary knew many of the people. After introductions and polite chats they would move away and Hilary would whisper sordid tidbits of information about their private lives. Sophia wondered how she possibly knew so much information.
Making their way back toward their husbands, Hilary whispered, “I’m surprised Mr. Rawlings isn’t here yet. I don’t think I’ve ever made it to a function before him. He has a real thing for punctuality, or so Roger says.”
“Do you know him?” Sophia asked, suddenly interested in some of Mrs. Cunningham’s gossip.
“Not really. We’ve been introduced a few times. He doesn’t usually make it to our area. I think Shedis-tics is pretty small on his food chain. That’s why Roger is so excited he’ll be here tonight.”
“Is he married?” Sophia asked.
Hilary’s expression was both surprised and amused. “Oh come on, surely you know his story.”
Embarrassed by her lack of knowledge Sophia apologized, “I’m sorry, I really don’t follow things like that. Why, should I?”
At that moment a waitress passed by with a tray filled with glasses of champagne. Hilary reached for two glasses, handed one to Sophia and said, “Well, let me fill you in!”
*****
With increased concern and anxiety, Claire followed the woman away from the crowds to an elevator. When the doors opened and the woman entered, Claire decided she’d followed long enough.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t want to get into this elevator without knowing where I’m going.”
It was at that moment she heard determined footsteps approaching from the direction they’d just traveled. Claire turned toward the source and saw a face from her past. The man approached at a steady pace dressed in a very nice suit.
Claire’s mind wheeled with memories. This man had never shown her anything but kindness, except perhaps at their last meeting. Had he purposely left the key cabinet to the cars at Tony’s estate open? Was he part of Tony’s plan? Did his actions lead to her eventual incarceration? Although these questions and many more formed in her head, her lips pressed together in a straight line. This wasn’t the time or place to speak her distress. The only outward signs were the sparks blazing from her eyes toward Tony’s driver.
“Ms. Claire, Mr. Rawlings is upstairs and would like to see you.”
“Eric.” She managed through clenched jaws.
“Yes, now, if you’ll please enter the elevator I’ll gladly escort you to him.” He looked at the woman from the gala, “Thank you, I’ll take Ms. Nichols from here.”
The woman didn’t bother to look back toward Claire for confirmation. She nodded and walked away toward the gala.
While hushed, Claire’s voice sounded strong and resilient, “Eric, please tell Mr. Rawlings I no longer make command performances. If he wants to see me, he can come to me.”
Seizing her elbow, Eric directed her toward the still open elevator. His voice was low, yet determined, “Ms. Claire, there are many people about. Perhaps this time you could make an exception?”
Surprised by his assertiveness and stunned by his touch, her feet moved obediently into the elevator. When the doors closed, she pulled her elbow free from his grasp and felt the floor move upward.
This wasn’t an elevator used by guests, but an industrial lift, presumably used by the staff of the St. Regis. The stainless steel walls marred with fingerprints and floor covered by a large black mat resembled the service elevator at Claire’s condominium.
As the doors opened, Eric gallantly turned and asked, “Ms. Nichols, may I assist you?”
She wondered if that meant: Do you want me to forcibly remove you from this elevator?
Her stoic expression remained while her words were clipped, “Thank you, I believe I’m capable of walking on my own.” She wasn’t happy with this man. Yet, she knew Eric was only doing what everyone did around Anthony Rawlings, following orders. Exiting the elevator, they stepped into a brightly lit, empty hallway. The sound of her heels upon the concrete floor echoed through the passage. “I’ll follow you, as you seem to know where we’re going.”
Eric nodded, “Yes, ma’am, this way please.”
What choice did she have? The elevator was now closed. The sensor near the doors indicated a key was required to regain entry. The hallway had few options for escape. The few doors they passed held name plates indicating the contents beyond: heating/AC, cleaning supplies, and personal supplies. The destination at the end of the passage was not labeled. Eric opened the door and held it for Claire to pass. She did, each step becoming more difficult to endure. More than anything, she wanted to call Harry, but he was busy with problems at SiJo. She squared her shoulders and entered an elegant posh foyer. Claire knew who she’d find at the end of this journey. Before her were two options, an elevator and a set of double doors. This elevator was adorned with golden mirrored doors.
Eric placed a card below an electronic reader near the double doors, and she heard tumblers shift. Anthony Rawlings’ driver and right hand man opened one of the grand doors. Claire obediently entered the threshold of the luxurious penthouse atop the San Francisco St. Regis Hotel. Although every fiber within her body told her to run for the gold elevator, Claire’s Jimmy Choo four and a half inch heels moved forward. She heard the click of each step as she followed Eric through the foyer, complete with a winding staircase, toward a beautiful sitting area. Beyond the elaborately furnished room, with multiple sofas, tables and entries to other rooms were windows covering the wall from the polished floor to the ceiling, at least fifteen feet above.
Claire saw the back of his head, hair gelled perfectly in place and his customary Armani tuxedo slacks and perfectly pressed white silk shirt. She couldn’t remember how many he owned. She knew it was many. Tony’s large form appeared dwarfed against the height of the glass pane. Beyond him the sky filled with color, creating a magnificent vista as an amazing sunset glistened in the western sky, with the Golden Gate Bridge in the foreground.
The anger growing within her chest stilled as she heard his voice. Uncharacteristic anger emanated. He was yelling at some poor soul on the phone he held tightly in his right hand. With his left hand he twisted a cord. It was the tie holding back the drapes at the edge of the amazing view.
“She’s not to be there. He is to remain.” “No, that isn’t acceptable.” “This has been the plan forever. If you aren’t capable, I will find someone who is.” He turned, hearing Eric and Claire enter. His eyes smoldered. Despite the dark blackness of his irises, fire flashed from a deep untouchable abyss. Claire searched his expression for a sign of assurance, finding none; she shivered knowing the depths of this man’s temper.
The words of protest she’d been silently practicing since entering the elevator, faded into Tony’s cloud of rage. With all her soul, Claire prayed she wasn’t the one meant to disappear or the reason for his fury.
“Twenty minutes. I’ll be waiting.” He disconnected his phone and slid it into the pocket of his Armani 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.” Before Claire could blink Eric disappeared down the hall, and she heard the grand double doors close.
Claire gripped her purse and nervously ran her fingers over the silk of the wrap, now lying over her arm. Eric was a source of uneasiness, yet his departure was more unnerving. She stood anxiously before her ex-husband. Straightening her neck, she tried for a formidable yet respectful voice. “Tony, please explain to...”
He didn’t allow her to finish her sentence. Instantly, his chest touched hers, and her chin rose with the direction of his forceful grasp. His warm breath hit her face as his harsh words flowed, “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.”
The bile bubbling from her stomach caused her knees to tremble, yet her voice remained resilient. “I agreed to attend this gala, weeks ago. I didn’t learn of your attendance until this evening.”
His grip increased as he held her emerald eyes toward his pits of darkness, “Then your informant is as incompetent as the firewall at SiJo.”
Though her stance remained still, her eyes ignited, “What did you do?”
“Nothing. As long as your friends don’t have an overwhelming sense of conscious requiring them to inform the public of their near breach, no harm will come.”
Claire remained motionless. Her well trained protocol wouldn’t allow her to pull away from his hold. Nevertheless, her eyes screamed at his manipulation. “Why?”
As his hand released her face, Claire flexed her neck and shoulders. Taking a step back, Claire assessed the man before her. He was still very agitated. However, she needed to know, “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 will not be harmed,” He paused and walked to the window. The sky of orange and red was now darkening. The land beyond the bridge was speckled with lights as the bridge glowed with artificial illumination. Turning on his heels Tony’s gaze devoured her, as his commanding voice filled the tall room, “IF you follow my rules.”
Claire’s heart sunk. Her knees wobbled, and her stomach twisted. This was her nightmare, her greatest fear. She’d convinced herself she was able to maintain the upper hand. Her inner voice tried to warn her, but Claire hadn’t listened. Now it was too late. Suddenly his expression changed.
“Are you not feeling well? You’re pale.” Was there concern in the voice that only seconds ago was harsh and authoritative?
“I need to sit down.”
Tony wrapped his arm around Claire’s waist and directed her toward a soft leather love seat. Her knees buckled and a sudden wave of perspiration covered her skin as she settled against the cool plush hide. Claire lowered her head to her knees and tried to inhale. She saw Tony’s shiny loafers move away and return. Then his voice reassuringly offered assistance, “Here’s some water, drink.”
Claire shook her head against the green material of her Donna Karen gown. The feeling of queasiness wouldn’t fade. She feared if she drank the water she’d be ill.
“Dinner will be starting downstairs in about an hour. Have you eaten recently?”
Feeling the chill that comes after the rush of heat, Claire looked up into the softening eyes. “No, I haven’t.” Her voice quivered, revealing the trembling within her body. She wasn’t sure if the cause of her trembling was the recent onset of nausea or Tony. “I don’t want to go down there with you.” She sat straighter, trying desperately for strength. “I’m here for SiJo, for Amber and Simon.”
Tony’s gaze lingered. He could see her still to pale complexion. Nonetheless, his voice hardened as his posture straightened. “Then you will do as I say.”
Her resolve was spent. She once again lowered her head to her lap and asked, “What do you want me to do?”
