Текст книги "Consequences"

Автор книги: Aleatha Romig

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 36 страниц)

Claire saw no reporters. No one stared or asked questions. By the time she made it down the street to a small coffee shop she felt better about her outing, and even drank coffee sitting at an outside table. She sipped the aromatic rich brew and watched people as they rushed down the sidewalks. She missed being around people. However, the idea of speaking to anyone frightened her. What if she said something wrong?

By the time Eric returned to pick her up, she found a few books on butterflies and some casual clothes for her busy event-filled days. It wasn’t a lot, but she did what she’d been told to do and honestly enjoyed it.

Tony seemed disappointed that she hadn’t bought more, but also pleased that she did as he instructed. He then expected her to give him a fashion show of her finds and suggested that next time she buy some items he would like too. That meant fashions with much less material.

Once the jet landed the five of them entered a waiting limousine. The four continued to discuss their impending meeting. Claire sat silently listening, trying to go unnoticed. It was nine twenty and their meeting was at ten. Eric rode in the passenger seat next to the driver. In no time they were in the throes of New York City grid-lock traffic. The car traveled in short, accelerated movements.

Claire experienced this traffic from the back of a taxi when she lived with Emily and John and knew that it could stifle travel and wreak havoc on schedules. Tony didn’t seem concerned. Their car pulled up to their destination with minutes to spare. The four associates got out and proceeded through the big glass doors. Claire found herself alone in a large limousine. She didn’t know where she was going or how long she would be there. Her life was no longer in her hands, and she was somehow coming to terms with that.

His apartment wasn’t like any apartment she’d seen before. A housekeeper greeted her at the door. “Ms. Claire, welcome. My name is Jan. Let me show you to Mr. Rawlings’s room. We will put your belongings there and show you around.” Claire thanked Jan and followed her. The apartment filled two stories and the entryway had a staircase that reached a landing on the second floor. It contained a massive sitting room complete with fireplace, dining room, kitchen, and office on the first level. Claire called it the first level, but in actuality it was seventy-six stories from the ground. The sitting room and dining room had floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the city and toward the water. She’d spent many days and nights in NYC but had never seen a view like this.

Tony’s bedroom was large and decorated with dark masculine colors. A large high bed with a leather headboard and complementary leather furniture filled the room. Jan carried Claire’s hanging bag, and two other staff members assisted with the rest of their luggage. Once things were put away Jan asked Claire if she would like some lunch or if she would rather rest. Claire decided a little lunch before a nap would be good.

Tony arrived at the apartment at about seven o’clock. He wasn’t alone. Brent Simmons was with him. They arrived conversing about something that happened during the day. Their conversation continued into the dining room, where they opened briefcases, laptops, and resumed their debate. Jan asked Mr. Rawlings if he would like dinner and he told her to just bring them something they could eat while working. Claire hoped for a night out under the lights of New York. She settled for a night with her book, wearing a black silk nightgown and falling asleep before Tony ever made it to the bedroom.

He left before she awoke. If his side of the bed wasn’t unmade, she wouldn’t have known he had been there. In the morning she found a note next to the bed: Eric is available to you all day. Have

a good day in the city. Be back by 6.

Do not disappoint me.

And there was cash with a separate note: For tipping, remember, appearances!

Okay, she thought. IamstuckinNewYork.Imightaswellenjoymyself.

After her shower, Jan served her a wonderful breakfast and promised she would be notified as soon as Eric returned from taking Mr. Rawlings to his office. By ten Claire sat in the back of a limousine while Eric drove her to some shopping therapy. She decided if Tony wanted her to shop so badly, this definitely was the place to do it. She always enjoyed shopping in NYC, but this would be a new experience. The vastness of the city, along with the quantity of people gave Claire the feeling of anonymity. A feeling she didn’t have in Davenport. No one would even notice her here. She could do as she pleased.

“To Fifth Avenue and Fifty-first Street, please.” Eric didn’t hesitate. Claire decided she could keep herself busy with Versace, Prada, Bendel, and Louis Vuitton for at least four or five hours. Eric gave Claire a card with his cell phone number and explained that she needn’t worry about carrying any purchases. Tell the clerk to call him, her driver. He would pick up everything she bought. He dropped her off near East Fifty-first and Madison and promised to pick her up near the Plaza Hotel at East Fifty-eighth Street at two. At that time, he would be happy to take her to her next destination.

As Claire stepped from the car with her high-heeled sandals hitting the concrete and her chiffon sundress blowing slightly in the breeze, she felt like a model doing a magazine shoot. It didn’t seem real. She kept telling herself, “Play the part.” The summer heat radiated in waves off the pavement, and the sounds of the city invigorated her as she fought the crowds of people along the sidewalk.

First she entered Versace. The ornate limestone facade with the large glass doors, and an unlimited amount of money in her purse gave her a rush of adrenaline. It felt different from exercise. It was the strange sensation that she could buy anything and everything she wanted. She did her best to feign the image of someone accustomed to spending. It didn’t take long before she believed it as much as the store’s associates.

She tried very hard to not notice prices as she chose dress possibilities. She liked a cotton pique sheath dress and a gathered bodice sheath dress. They accentuated her trimmer figure. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she judged her image by would Tony like this? She decided he would. According to the associate she also needed shoes. When all was said and done and she paid for her two outfits, she almost lost her composure. The associate smiled and said, “That will be $3,657. Would you like to place that on an existing account?”

Claire worked diligently to keep her mask intact although her heart rate dramatically increased. “No, I will pay for it now and my driver will be back to pick it up. Let me give you his number and he will work out the details.” She handed the associate her American Express.

“Thank you, madam, I will be glad to take care of that for you.” She rang the transaction. This kind associate definitely needed a tip, appearances.

Claire preceded north, next stop Cartier. She was determined to make it back to the apartment with items to show Tony. She decided on a nice little pair of sunglasses for only $500. She thought about the $10 sunglasses she wore for all four years of college. She then continued with more shopping. The crowds of people talking, the cash registers ringing, the smells of exhaust and crowds, the sights of tall buildings as she looked up to the sky, all worked to build the feeling of elation.

By one o’clock, Claire was exhausted. She purchased a few dresses, some shoes, a few new lingerie items, and sunglasses. She successfully spent over $5,000. It truly seemed ridiculous to her, but she was determined to make Tony proud. She didn’t want to shop anymore. She stopped at the Trump Tower, less than two blocks from her pick-up destination, to have lunch. She’d been there before and remembered the Trump Café. The people and beauty of the glass caught her attention as she entered the Atrium, but her mind focused on food.

In the past four months she hadn’t made one decision about food. Now she salivated at the idea of ordering anything she wanted. There were even desserts. She took a few minutes wandering around the cases, so many choices. The aroma from the grill caused her to think of hamburgers in the summertime. She could almost taste the foods as she inhaled their delicious scents. She silently debated her options.

Claire found a table near the window and ate her spinach salad, iced tea, and yogurt. It was still her choice but eating healthy made more sense. She ate and watched. New York had always been fun, and even today, by herself, she found it fun. She glanced at her watch, one forty. She finished her lunch and walked toward the Plaza Hotel. Tony wouldn’t be waiting. But she didn’t want Eric to tell him she was late.

When Eric pulled the car to the curb, Claire was ready to get in. However, she waited for Eric to park, get out, and open her door. She’d learned to perform her part well. Once back on the road he inquired as to the next destination. “I believe I’m tired and would like to go back to the apartment. Oh, did you pick up my purchases?” Yes, they were in the trunk. He would have someone take them to Mr. Rawlings’s room immediately upon arriving at the apartment.

Claire sat back, closed her eyes, and let herself be taken back to Tony’s. It wasn’t until she was almost back at the apartment that it occurred to her, Emily and John are only three hours out of the city. She could get there by train. If she had Eric drop her off near a station, she could get to their house and be back in the span of a day. She used to ride the train all the time. No one would ever know. She couldn’t do it today but excitement brewed as she began to work out the details in her head for tomorrow.

She slept soundly on his bed when he entered the bedroom. It was about three thirty in the afternoon. “We did it! The deal is complete.”

Claire woke from her nap and tried to concentrate on his words. “That is great. I’m happy for you.”

“We are going to celebrate!” Tony exclaimed as Claire started to get out of bed. “Where are you going?” The tone of his question accompanied by his gaze instigated a chill evidenced by goose bumps on Claire’s arms.

“I thought you wanted to celebrate. I need to dress.”

His voice less celebratory, more menacing, “Yes, you do, but first you need to undress while we celebrate here.” Tony removed his Brooks Brothers suit jacket and silk tie, letting them fall to the floor, and unbuttoned his shirt. Claire was napping in a pair of shorts and a shirt. She did as he bid and removed her shorts and then her shirt.

Her instincts told her that the vigor and energy acquired from his successful business dealings would be unleashed here and now. She was thankful she napped. Apprehensively, Claire watched as he walked toward her, his clothes gone. His chest was wide, defined, and covered with dark hair. His trim abdomen was obviously the result of keeping fit. His hips were narrow, and his waist had a light trail of hair leading to where Claire could plainly see he was ready to celebrate. She didn’t need to help him, he was in charge. Although she’d been sleeping something about his demeanor alarmed her, she was fully awake as her body trembled.

Tony pushed his body against hers. Moving fast and rough, he pulled her against him. She tasted coffee as his lips forcefully engaged hers. She attempted to slow down his movements. Expecting to be lifted onto the bed she was surprised when he pushed her, causing her cheek to feel the softness of the down comforter. She hadn’t expected his actions and he hadn’t prepared her. Her fingers gripped the cover, forming fists as she stifled the urge to cry out. He continued to dominate, showing no meekness. Anthony Rawlings had total control.

When he finished, he instructed her to kneel. He held her head and dictated her movements until he was ready again. This time he took more time, more positions, and more possibilities. His authoritative tone resumed with instructions and directions. Eventually he led her to the shower. They needed to get ready to go out. The soap, the multiple shower heads, he continued. Finally, he finished.

He then took shampoo and began to wash Claire’s hair. After ravaging her body, he touched her hair like it was satin. Suddenly, his movements were tender and gentle. She responded appropriately, but couldn’t help think how much she despised him. One day she wanted to help him, to be with him, the next he treated her like a whore. It made her heart ache, but she stopped the tears. He already took too much. She wasn’t giving him those too.

That night, dressed in a sleek black strapless dress with black heels, Claire was escorted by Tony to Daniel, one of the few four-star restaurants in Manhattan. Located on the Upper East Side, it is known for its elegant ambiance and delicious French cuisine. En route, Tony reminded Claire about his rules: do as she was told, keep up appearances, and the severity of punishment for public failure. Perhaps he could sense her overwhelming desire to flee and felt the need to reiterate the consequences if she tried.

When they arrived at Daniel they went to the lounge, where Tony ordered cocktails. They sipped drinks while Tony talked about his amazing rescue of this sensational deal. Claire felt like she was spending the evening with two different men. He could chastise her in one breath and be refined and charming in the next. While talking about his deal he said that he didn’t like to talk about money, but today he made more than most people do in an entire lifetime, quoting, “Hell, more than most families do in their lifetimes.”

The host informed them that their table was ready and they moved to the dining room. Again, Tony ordered their meal. Claire’s attention was completely centered on him. He required that, maintaining appearances. She discovered that Tony spoke French. Since she didn’t, she didn’t know what he said to the waiter. When the bottle of wine arrived, after sipping on cocktails, Claire was surprised. “This is a special occasion,” Tony said. The waiter poured a small amount of wine into a glass and offered it to him. He approved, and two glasses were poured.

If the prelude hadn’t been so tempestuous the dinner would have been more pleasurable. Claire remembered Tony saying he didn’t approve of alcohol because it diminished the senses. Currently feeling her body ache, she welcomed the diminishing effects. Of course, she didn’t show her uneasiness with the return of the Anthony Rawlings she had known. She obeyed the rules and remained the perfect companion.

On the way back to the apartment, Eric drove them around Manhattan to enjoy the lights, sights, and sounds. New York City was truly spectacular. It had been so long since Claire had experienced so many people and so much energy. If Tony weren’t running his hand up her thigh, it would have been more enjoyable.

Tony decided they would return to Iowa in the morning. As they were about to fall asleep he asked about shopping. Her body exhausted, her head spinning from the alcohol, she said it was nice and could she please show him the purchases in the morning? They both fell asleep.

  We shall draw from the heart of suffering

itselfthemeansofinspirationandsurvival. —Sir Winston Churchill

 Chapter 11

His alarm sounded, and Mr. Rawlings called for the car. It would be ready to take them to the airport at 6:00 a.m. Claire knew she would rather be back in her suite, waking at eight, working out, eating, and being on her own schedule. When she worked at WKPZ, she needed to wake before three every morning. But back then, she went to bed much earlier and, most importantly, alone.

A little after five, she sleepily entered the shower. Turning her face to the hot spray, she desperately tried to revive her senses and dull the aches in her body. The water began the process, but the real awakening came as she heard the glass door slide and saw Tony enter the steamy stall. His only expectation was to get clean. However, the act, the sharing of this personal space nonsexually, was more intimate than Claire anticipated or desired.

Once on the jet, she asked about his associates. Tony explained that Mr. Simmons and Mr. Field stayed behind to complete the contracts and Ms. Michaels had left on another company jet yesterday. During the two-and-a-half-hour flight, it was only the two of them in the cabin. Tony busily read his computer screen while Claire watched the clouds under the plane and contemplated the trip, disappointing and short. She thought pensively about her missed opportunity to contact Emily and John. She hadn’t spoken to anyone from her past for almost four months. Did anyone wonder what happened to her? Were they concerned that she’d dropped off the earth? But then she thought about Tony. He’d taken her out and introduced her to the world. She couldn’t be a missing person or the police would have gotten involved. She wasn’t sure how this publicity thing worked. Maybe Emily knew she was seen out with Mr. Anthony Rawlings. Claire berated herself. She worried more about not disappointing Tony than thinking to contact her sister.

Suddenly, Tony broke the silence. “Now tell me about your shopping trip.” The domineering man from the night before was gone. His tone was friendly and inquisitive.

Claire did her best to respond with the appropriate tone and inflection. “It was amazing. New York is such a bustling city. I wasn’t worried about people, or should I say reporters, approaching me.”

“That concerns you?”

“Yes. After that scene at the benefit, I am terrified someone will approach me. I know how much appearance and privacy means to you.”

Satisfied, Tony smiled smugly. “Very well, that is interesting. Go on, what did you buy?”

“Well, first I went to Versace and found a couple of dresses and some shoes. I think you will like them. I made my way along Fifth Avenue and bought some sunglasses. Oh, they are here in my purse.” She pulled them out and put them on. Tony smiled and removed them from her green eyes. He liked her eyes and didn’t want them covered. Claire continued chattily, “I also found some lingerie,” managing to smile coyly, “which I believe you will like.”

His eyes were soft, fully focused, and his expression was amused. “It sounds like you did well. Do you mind telling me how much you spent?”

Claire’s eyes dropped to the floor. She knew five thousand was nothing to Tony, but it would have been a month’s salary for her parents. Two outfits, shoes, sunglasses, and some silk and lace seemed like such a small accumulation for that much money. Tony gently lifted her chin to resume eye contact. Her eyes shone as she flashed a smile and spoke. “About five thousand.”

His reaction surprised her. He laughed. She waited to see if it was a laugh leading to something else, but no, it was just a laugh. Finally, he responded, “Good job, Claire. You may get the hang of this yet. I look forward to my private fashion show tonight when I return to the house.”

It bothered Claire that he could treat her in such a demeaning manner in the bedroom or wherever he chose and then turn around and act like nothing happened. She needed to work on compartmentalizing the sex away from the rest of her life. That was harder than it sounded.

Once they arrived back to Iowa, they entered Tony’s waiting car and Eric drove them back to the house. Tony needed to get a few things before heading into the office in Iowa City. He would be leaving tomorrow for ten days in Europe and had some loose ends that required his immediate attention.

After the car entered the gates to the estate, they took the long winding drive and approached the mansion. Claire usually saw the house from the back. She rarely left the property, but when she did it was usually at night. Now seeing it in daylight, the beautiful combination of river stone, limestone, and brick combined with the Romanesque style architecture gave her a new appreciation. Tony had said he’d built the house about fifteen years ago, but it looked older. It didn’t look outdated or antiquated. It looked as if it had been designed for an earlier time. Claire couldn’t help but ask, “Tony, you said you built this house about fifteen years ago?”

“Yes,” he answered as Eric came around the front drive. “Why do you ask?”

“I am not used to seeing it from the front. It’s beautiful!” He thanked her. She continued, “But it looks older than fifteen years to me, the style I mean.”

“I patterned it after my family’s home from when I was a child.”

Claire knew he lost his parents and didn’t want to stir up bad memories but her curiosity got the best of her. “I thought you built your fortune from nothing. How did your parents have a house like this?” They were now getting out of the car.

“It was my grandfather’s, not my parents’. My father was weak. However, my grandfather’s house and money were all lost over twenty-five years ago. My grandfather trusted the wrong people.”

That seemed like a wealth of information. She wasn’t sure what it meant. Catherine told her that Mr. Rawlings didn’t allow many people to get close. She was sure this family history had something to do with that. As they walked to his office she tried for a little more information. “It truly is amazing. Did you pattern the inside after it too?”

“Mostly. I even found and purchased some of the original artwork and antiques. However, I wanted my home equipped with all the modern conveniences and security equipment. Every inch of this house is under constant surveillance. I will not make the same mistake my grandfather made.” Claire considered what he was saying, he meant every inch of the perimeter. He was stopping someone from getting in who wasn’t supposed to be there. “Haven’t you ever wondered how the staff knows exactly when to enter your room?” Tony now stood behind his desk, punching some buttons on his computer and rummaging through papers.

Claire’s knees felt weak, and she thought she may need to sit down. “You mean my suite is under surveillance? Like there are cameras?”

Tony looked up from the papers and met Claire’s eyes. He saw the repugnance and slowly smiled. His words slowed, adding malice, “Yes, of course. It is all video recorded and saved.” Claire sat on the nearest chair. He was suddenly making the most of her newfound discomfort. “Perhaps we could have a premier viewing together, critique and work on revisions.”

She detested his existence. “Tony, please tell me you are joking, some sort of sick joke.”

His vile smirk gave spark to his darkening eyes. “But, my dear Claire, I am not. Now the staff does not have access to the view of your bed, only I have that. But they do have view of the sitting area and the doorways to and from your dressing room and bath. That is how they have been able to come and go without you seeing them.”

“But why? Why would you do that? Why would you keep it?”

Tony picked up his needed papers and a flash drive and moved to leave his office, “Because I can. I can watch and decide what I like and what I believe can be improved. You will understand after you get a chance to view it. Maybe tonight, but now I must be going.” He started to walk toward the hall doors. Claire didn’t think her legs could support her weight, she stayed seated. The thought of him watching them, of her watching him with her, it all made her physically sick. She seriously believed that if she stood she wouldn’t be able to control the revolt that was occurring in her stomach. Tony reiterated, “It is time to exit my office.” He watched as she sat motionless and heartlessly added, “And in case you were wondering, yes, this too is under surveillance, except for my desk. But I do have a great view of the sofa and this open area.” He nastily grinned and gestured to the setting of one of her worse nightmares. Something she’d pushed away. Now she knew he had it on video and watched it! “Claire, I need to go. Get out of the chair, now.”

She absently stood, only thinking about keeping her breakfast down. She tried desperately to keep all other thoughts out of her mind as she walked out of the office. Before she knew it, she was back in her suite. Her head spun. She wanted to flop on the sofa and stop the thoughts that bombarded her mind, but he could see her. Was there anywhere that he couldn’t see her?

That night they dined on the back patio, it was shaded and the night air felt warm. The yard looked picture perfect. Even with the recent heat wave which had been accompanied by a drought, his lawn was lush and green thanks to the marvels of a sprinkling system and ground’s crew. He was doing what she despised, talking about his trip to Europe, the time in New York, anything except the cameras and videos. Claire couldn’t understand how he could behave one way, say something, and then act as if it never happened. She, however, was having difficulty thinking of anything else. Her appetite gone, she barely ate any of her dinner.

Once they were done dining Tony led Claire to the movie theater. It was her retreat, a place to escape, watch singing and dancing. Tonight Tony didn’t intend to watch a musical. He programmed the video system and entered a passcode. Suddenly, the screen was full of dates and locations, such as “May 05, 2010, S.E. suite.” He had the ability to scroll to different dates and different locations. It wasn’t just her room. There were locations like garages, kitchen, foyer, stairs, theater, pool, S.E. 2 floor hall, S.E. 1 floor hall, etc.

In some humiliating form of torture he chose, 2010 March 20, S.E Suite, and then programmed the time. He scrolled up and the time decreased, 9, 8, 7. He returned to approximately 8:00 a.m. He hit enter, and there on the movie screen, bigger than life, was Claire’s suite. She wore a white robe and lay curled up on the floor near the hall door. Claire didn’t need to watch, she knew too well what would happen. She also knew that the Claire on the screen was covered in bruises, her hair was a mess, and she could see the demolition of the room. Now she heard a beep and the door opened. The screen Claire jumped up, also hearing the sound and Tony entering. “Good morning, Claire.” Screen Claire looked at Tony. “Good morning, Anthony. I want you to know, I have decided to go home. I will be leaving here today.” Screen Tony then spoke, his black eyes shining. He was smiling, “Do you not like your accommodations?” His smile widened. “I do not believe you will be leaving so soon. We have a legally binding agreement.” The real Claire watched as the Tony on the screen took a bar napkin from his suit pocket and continued, “Dated and signed by both of us.”

Claire didn’t want to watch anymore. “Please, Tony. I don’t want to see this.” She covered her eyes. Tony physically removed her hands from her eyes.

“I promised a viewing. I said you will watch. And you will.” The video had progressed in real time. Claire looked up in time to hear her own voice obviously containing alarm. “It is not the end of this discussion. This is ludicrous. An agreement doesn’t give you the right to rape me! I am leaving.” Knowing what was to come. Claire closed her eyes as she heard Tony’s hand contact the screen Claire’s left cheek. Unknowingly her own fingers drift toward her left cheek. Opening her eyes she saw herself fly across the floor and Tony walk over to that Claire. She closed her eyes again, hearing the voice on the screen with the cruel tone, “Perhaps in time your memory will improve. It seems to be an issue. Let me remind you again, rule number one is that you will do as you are told. If I say a discussion is over, it is over, and this written agreement which states whatever is pleasing to me, means consensual, not rape.” The real Claire still had her eyes shut. She knew that the Tony on the screen was straightening his jacket. She could hear him continue in a disturbing authoritative voice, “I have decided that it would be better if you did not leave your suite for a while. Don’t worry, we have plenty of time, $215,000 worth of time” She opened her eyes again to see the screen Tony step on broken crystal and speak again in a tone that made the real Claire shiver, “I will tell the staff that you may have your breakfast after this crystal is cleaned up.” The Tony on the screen left Claire’s room.

“Please stop the video,” Claire cried. She couldn’t help it. “Please, I can’t watch anymore.”

Relishing Claire’s suffering, Tony said, “Oh, there are so many videos, we can watch for hours.” He hit some buttons and went back to the menu. “For example,” the screen read, March 19, 2010, “how do you suppose your suite got into that condition? I am sure we could find out.”

“Please!” she pleaded. Her head hurt and her stomach twisted in knots. She couldn’t stand this. She tried desperately to make it stop. “Please, you are leaving tomorrow. Wouldn’t you rather spend tonight making movies instead of watching?” Her eyes were red and puffy and her nose ran from crying.

Tony smirked at her desperation. His tone dripped with ruthlessness, “But maybe we should watch some more, find out where you need improvement.”

“I will do anything you say, anything you want me to do differently, just tell me. Just please don’t make me watch.” Claire was now on the floor kneeling in front of Tony, crying. She hated that she’d been reduced to begging, but this ruined her whole compartmentalization. How could she keep these awful memories hidden if he made her watch them?

His dark eyes pierced her soul and his voice was ice cold. “You will do whatever I say, even if it is to watch. But . . .” He hesitated to add emphasis. “I do not want to spend my last night for over a week here with you in this condition.” He stood, causing her to fall back onto the floor. “I will be in your suite in a few minutes.” Claire stood. He continued, “Go up and get ready. Wash your face! You look like hell, and as far as attire . . . I am thinking some new lingerie.”