Consequences (12 page)

If he had been moved initially at her emotional response, he quickly recovered. “Yes, that is correct. I do know exactly how long it has been since you have been outside.” His voice resumed the authoritative tone she despised. “And I am happy to see that you still remember who is in control of your access to additional privileges.”

Claire nodded her head ever so slightly to indicate yes, she understood. Anthony cleared his throat. She looked into his eyes trying to blink the tears away from hers. “Yes, I understand. But I truly love being outside.”

“Surely you are smart enough to figure this out,” Anthony teased.

Confused and upset by the loss of her falsely perceived equality, she said, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Claire, I am an important man. I have hundreds of thousands of people in hundreds of companies that depend upon me for their livelihood. I balance a lot on my plate. Being observant to your wants and whims is not on my priority list. If you want to go outside, ask.”

The simplicity startled her and the reality made her ill. She was an adult and she was asking permission to go outside. Her memory seemed foggy, but she couldn’t recall doing that since she was maybe ten or eleven. It was one of his tests. Would she surrender to his authority or would she refuse and spend the summer inside? If she surrendered was it really submission or was it her way of controlling the situation? The internal debate continued for such a short time.

“Anthony, may I please leave the house and go outside?”

“You may be outside. Do not leave the property without me or my permission.” His tone continued, but Claire’s only concern was his meaning, “Remember to be available to me whenever I am here. Therefore, no wandering the grounds if I am present. And you must be in your suite at five each evening for instructions. Can you follow these rules?”

“Oh yes, I can.” It may still be a prison, but it had just multiplied in size.

Greed,
for
lack
of
a
better
word
is
good
 
.
 
.
 
.
Greed
in
all
its
forms
for
life,
for
money,
for
love,
for
knowledge
has
marked
the
upward
surge
of
mankind.

—Gordon Gekko,
Wallstreet

 Chapter 7

The cloud of smoke levitating near the suspended ceiling created a haze, making the florescent lights appear dim within the small office. Nathaniel clenched his teeth while analyzing the figures. Since taking the company public, the numbers showed profits. The stock continued to grow, and industry reports were favorable. Rawls Corporation was in the black. And considering the current economic climate of the seventies, that was good. The problem is Nathaniel Rawls doesn’t want good. He isn’t content with black. He wants more, a lot more. The sound of the furnace blowing warm air created a hypnotizing hum. He leaned back, took a long draw on his cigarette, and rubbed his temples. How could he make the figures in the profit column multiply? Hell, others are doing it. He wanted to too.

Punching the black button on the small box, he said, “Connie, get Samuel in here now.”

The crackling voice responded immediately, “Yes, sir, Mr. Rawls.”

Samuel entered the small paneled office inhaling the suspended cloud. The sight of his father hunched over the books and spreadsheets meant only one thing: he was in for the “
We
can
do
better
” speech. “Yes, Father, did you want me?”

“Have you seen the latest figures?”

“Yes. Sales to major distributors are up 18 percent.”

“That is chicken feed. Textiles can’t make shit in the United States. We have to revisit the idea of moving operations out of country. In Mexico, we can produce the same merchandise for less than a quarter of what it costs here. Hell, the unions here in Jersey are costing us a fortune.”

Samuel learned long ago to pacify his father, let him blow off some steam and things would settle. “We have looked into that. The problem is that we would lay off hundreds of workers who have been loyal through the years. Besides, as I said, we are in the black.”

Nathaniel blew a cloud of smoke toward his son. “I’ve decided to hire Jared Clawson as CFO, chief financial officer. The man has some innovative ideas.”

“Didn’t he just leave New England Energy amid allegations of illegal activities?”

“Nothing was proven. Besides, I have seen the figures. When Clawson was assisting with finance at NE Energy, their profits were through the roof. Since his departure, they’re doing well to keep the grids going.” Samuel remained silent. “The man is a damn genius. We’ve met a few times. He believes Rawls has potential and has some great ideas.”

Samuel knew his opinion didn’t matter. If Nathaniel’s mind was made up, Jared Clawson was coming on board. The only thing he could do was watch and do his best to stop anything illegal before it began. “The contracts with Huntington House are in their final stages. They have plans for a whole new clothing line. The potential for revenue is huge. They have distributors all up and down the East Coast.”

“Damn chicken feed.”

A
strong
positive
mental
attitude
will
create
more
miracles
than
any
wonder
drug.

—Patricia Neal

 Chapter 8

Survival for the last two months was facilitated by a technique Claire called
compartmentalization
. She couldn’t bare the entirety of her situation, but she could handle a part at a time. The colossal lapse in judgment that brought her to this circumstance; the treatment, punishment, or consequence that
he
felt he had the right or ability to carry out; the duties he could tell her to do, and the fact that she obeyed—all were too much. She had to separate them and deal with them in small manageable bits. Some days that was possible. Other days it was more difficult.

Her morning workouts now included swimming and weight training. Exercise supposedly produced endorphins, and endorphins helped elevate mood. That seemed like a good idea.

Before she was allowed outside, Claire spent many afternoons with a blanket and a good movie. The lower level of the house contained a movie theater. With Anthony’s busy schedule, she wondered if he ever used it. It held hundreds, if not thousands, of digital movies. Claire loved the classics, especially musicals. She could lose an entire afternoon curled up in a large soft recliner watching happy people sing and dance. It was a magnificent escape from reality.

It was near the end of May, and Claire had taken advantage of her outdoor liberty every chance she could by lounging at the pool, walking in the gardens, and reading books in the yard. Now she wanted to explore. The woods held the possibility of both plant and animal life. It had been a few years since she studied Earth science, but she believed it would come back
.
Anthony said his house had been on this land for fourteen or fifteen years. Claire believed no one had been back in the woods for years. The potential for real undisturbed wildlife excited her. Not that there would be bears or lions, but deer, rabbits, birds, and rodents. In her current situation, self-preservation encouraged her to find happiness wherever possible.

Three days earlier, she asked Anthony for hiking boots. Now she was tying them and preparing for her new adventure. Inhaling the sweet smells of nature, Claire contemplated her path as Catherine came rushing toward her. “Ms. Claire, I am so glad I didn’t miss you.”

Claire’s tranquility suddenly evaporated. “No, it looks like you caught me. And I promise to be back before five.”

“Ms. Claire, I just received a call from Mr. Rawlings. He has an engagement tonight in Davenport. It is a fund-raiser at the Alder Theater for the Quad City Symphony.”

“So he won’t be back tonight?” she said, thinking that perhaps she could stay out in the woods later than five.

“No, miss, he will be back.”

“What?”

“He will be here at six to pick you up. You are to accompany him to the symphony.”

Claire stared at Catherine in disbelief. She’d just been permitted to be outdoors, and now she was going to Davenport to a symphony. Saying “
No,
thank
you
” didn’t seem to be an option. Her mind swirled. “Catherine, I’ve never been to a symphony before. Can you please help me?” Claire prayed that this wasn’t another test about appropriate dress.

“Of course, I will, miss. Now let’s go up to your room, and we will get started.”

They did. Catherine went directly into the closet and removed a long black evening gown. It was simple, yet amazingly beautiful. Claire showered again. Catherine helped her with her makeup and hair, piling it upon her head with cascading curls. She even had exquisite earrings for Claire to wear. Securing them in her pierced ears, she thought how long it had been since she’d worn jewelry and how nice they looked with her hair up.

One accessory that surprised Claire was the handbag. She hadn’t gone anywhere or needed a handbag, but tonight Catherine had one for her. Anthony would be home and ready at six. Apparently, the symphony began at eight, with cocktails at seven. Catherine explained that it took one hour to drive to Davenport, and Eric would chauffeur them in the limousine.

Before she dressed, still wearing her robe with her hair done and makeup perfect, Claire sat on the edge of the large marble tub and asked Catherine for advice. What did Mr. Rawlings expect of her this evening? How should she act? If he had rules for being out, he hadn’t told her; and if Catherine knew, Claire would truly appreciate being informed.

Catherine’s eyes shone with care and concern. She wanted to help Claire. She would do anything to make this evening a success for both Claire and Mr. Rawlings. Catherine sat next to Claire and gently took her hands in her own. “Ms. Claire, you are to look beautiful, and you do.” Her smile reassured Claire, who nodded as Catherine spoke. “Mr. Rawlings is a very influential businessman. He is a fervent believer in appearance. If things look right on the surface the underside is rarely questioned. However, things may be great in reality, but if one perceives them to be amiss, it is difficult to change that perception. Therefore, Ms. Claire, you are expected to be the perfect companion: beautiful, polite, contented, and appreciative.”

Claire thought to herself,
Well,
perfect
 
.
 
.
 
.
okay,
no
pressure.

Catherine continued, “A man of Mr. Rawlings’s standing is constantly observed by others. Some watch to imitate, others watch to mar. That is why he requires his home to be a place of quietude. He has to do so much for so many, that he needs a place for repose and to refuel. That is where you have been so good for him.” Claire looked into Catherine’s eyes, she was sincere. Claire believed Catherine had Mr. Rawlings’s best interests at heart. However, she was sure Catherine didn’t understand the ways he expected to be
helped
. “But above all, Mr. Rawlings requires confidentiality on the part of anyone who works for him or is near to him.” Claire pondered that thought. “Ms. Claire, you have had the rare opportunity to get to know Mr. Rawlings in a way most do not. The information you hold must not be shared with anyone. He has allowed you to see a more intimate side of himself. The Mr. Rawlings the world knows is much more guarded. He has placed a trust in you and you should know he does not fully trust many people. Do not ever discuss Mr. Rawlings or your relationship with anyone.” Catherine smiled and squeezed Claire’s hands. “I know you will be wonderful, Ms. Claire. Mr. Rawlings will be proud to have you on his arm.”