Inferno Anthology (205 page)

They were both almost a sleep when Tony announced, “You’re coming with me to New York tomorrow. You can use that new credit card again while I have my meetings. And after tonight, I may need more of this, depending on how the meetings go.” Claire had a million questions, but stayed silent. Tony continued, “No, I
will
need more of this, no matter how the meetings go.” They fell asleep.

A little before 6:00 AM, they boarded Tony’s private jet. Catherine woke Claire about 4:30 AM. Since she and Tony fell asleep after mid-night, wake-up came very early. When Claire woke, Tony was no longer in her suite. She showered while Catherine packed her luggage. There would’ve been a time when Claire would’ve been horrified to have someone else pack her belongings for a trip, but today it reassured her. Catherine seemed to know exactly what Claire needed and when she needed it. Allowing Catherine to take care of her needs had become second nature.

Claire’s light yellow slacks and a flowing white blouse were laid out. She obediently put them on. Her luggage was packed. She had a new Prada purse containing her wallet, ID, and credit card, as well as cosmetics, tissues, and other needed items. Carlos came to her suite to take her belongings down to the waiting car.

Before they left Claire’s suite, Catherine informed her she would be staying with Mr. Rawlings at his Manhattan apartment. And although she may be tired this morning, do not let it show, she must maintain appearances. Mr. Rawlings would be off to his work as soon as they arrived in the city. She would then be able to rest at the apartment. Claire nodded her understanding.

While Eric drove them to the local private airport, Tony spoke more directly and less compassionately than the night before. “You’ll be at my apartment while I’m working today. Eric will drive you there after he takes my associates and me to our meeting.” Claire smiled and said that was fine. She didn’t have a choice. She knew that, and so did he. “Upon reaching the airport, we will be met by Brent Simmons, the head of my legal team; Sharon Michaels, his associate; and David Field, one of my lead negotiators. They’ll join us on the flight to New York. I’ll introduce you. Brent is already aware of you. Once we board my jet, you’ll sit away from us while we begin our preparations.”

Claire said she understood. “Tony, I don’t want to get in the way. I’m here because you want me to be.”

“Yes.” He was looking at his iPhone, which had just buzzed. “That’s true. It’s my choice, and I want you here. I believe your presence will benefit me.” He became engrossed in his texting.

Benefit him? Why couldn’t he just say, I want you here? Her stomach tied in knots as she wondered what Brent Simmons knew about her. Did he know what she did? Did he think she was a companion or an employee or worse? As they rode in the backseat of the Mercedes Benz, Claire decided this was time for a
mask
. Finding it through all the apprehension surging through her mind was difficult, but she did, and put it on.

Claire didn’t know what to expect from a private jet. On the outside it seemed smaller than she anticipated. Once they climbed the steps, she was pleasantly surprised by the spacious interior. To her left was the door to the cockpit and to her right was an open space with a table and four chairs. Beyond was a sofa along one wall facing three reclining chairs along the other. Everything was secured and contained seat belts like you would expect on a plane. The chairs and some of the walls were luxuriously covered with white leather and accented with wood like trim. There was additional space behind the far wall. Claire guessed that it contained a bathroom, maybe more.

Tony introduced Claire to his associates and motioned for her to take a seat on the sofa near the wall. Everyone was polite and friendly. She went to the sofa as she was told. Tony, Mr. Simmons, Ms. Michaels, and Mr. Fields sat around the oval table. Eric joined them on the plane after loading their luggage into a compartment below. Surprisingly, he sat in the copilot’s seat. His talents suddenly impressed Claire—obviously, the world’s most versatile chauffeur.

Claire watched and listened as Tony and the others discussed the impending deal. She honestly didn’t care about the deal other than its impact on Tony. She liked to watch him work—his expertise, intelligence, and control. He respected the knowledge and wisdom of his associates, asked questions, and listened intently to their responses and opinions. With that said, Claire knew when the time came for decisions the only opinion that mattered would be his.

After they were in the air and the discussion at the table became mundane, Claire thought about napping and remembered Catherine’s advice. To stay awake, she looked in her purse—another treasure hunt. First, she opened her wallet. Staring back at her was her picture from her Georgia driver’s license. She read the identification card and saw her Atlanta address. Compartmentalize
.
Her picture didn’t look like her. The picture was taken two years earlier and her face had changed: slimmed, tanned, and just changed. Her height, five four, was the same; her weight, one hundred and twenty-five, was closer to actual. That hadn’t been the case four months ago. The listed weight was accurate when she was sixteen and like with everyone else it had inched up through the years; however, now it seemed accurate if not erroneously high. Next, Claire spotted the American Express platinum card with
Claire Nichols
embossed on the front.

When Tony first gave Claire the card, she didn’t want to use it. She thanked him for the confidence and faith and tried to explain there was nothing she needed. She had all the clothes she could possibly wear. She actually had many she’d never worn. Food came to her three times a day, and she had a roof over her head. She had no interest in jewelry; having her grandmother’s necklace was all she wanted. She loved to read, but so far the library contained more than she could hope to read.

Tony wouldn’t accept any of her excuses. He told her to ask him when she wanted to go shopping. She didn’t ask. After a week, he apparently gave up. One evening, over dinner, he proclaimed, “Eric is taking you into Davenport tomorrow to shop.” Claire remembered suddenly feeling ill. She didn’t speak at first and only stared. “Claire, did you hear me?” He knew she did; he wanted verbal confirmation.

“Yes, Tony, I heard you. I thought we discussed this and decided I have no pressing need for anything.”

“I’m pretty sure we discussed it, and I said you’re going—tomorrow.”

“But, don’t you need Eric tomorrow?”

His eyes darkened as his tone slowed. “Are you arguing? You were a confident woman when I met you. You’ve learned your lessons well. You need to get out in the world, and for the record, this conversation is now over, unless you feel it would be beneficial to argue?”

Claire wanted to complain and explain that she worried about the Charles Jacksons of the world; however, she’d made that mistake before. She swallowed. “What time does Eric need me to be ready?”

The trip to Davenport was unnerving. Eric picked Claire up in a black BMW. She sat in the backseat feeling awkward without Tony. Driving away from the house, she told herself Tony was right. She had been a confident woman, and besides, one day she would be leaving here. She also knew the truth. This was a test to determine if she could be trusted out by herself. She’d learned from earlier
glitches
the best way to pass a test was to avoid it. Tony made it clear—avoiding this was not an option.

Eric took her to the
River Walk Shoppes
, higher-end boutiques in the Quad Cities. She entered each shop and took her time looking around. At first, her senses were on high alert, afraid of everyone that approached. She soon realized no one paid that much attention to her. The clerks were attentive, and she was shown everything and anything she wanted. People didn’t browse these shops if they couldn’t buy.

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 she’d done as he instructed. He then expected her to give him a fashion show of her finds and suggested 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 9:20 AM and their meeting was to start at 10:00 AM. 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 had experienced this traffic from the back of a taxi when she lived with Emily and John and knew 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.

PEERING AROUND THE
marble floored foyer, Claire knew his apartment wasn’t like any she’d seen before. Her anxiety eased with the housekeeper’s warm greeting. “Ms. Claire, welcome. My name is Jan. Let me show you to Mr. Rawlings’s room. We’ll put your belongings in there and show you around.”

Claire thanked Jan and followed her up the ornate staircase which ascended to a railed landing on the second floor. The apartment included a massive sitting room complete with fireplace, a dining room, a kitchen, and an office on the first level. Claire called it the first level, but in actuality it was seventy-six stories from the ground. The sitting and dining rooms had floor to ceiling windows looking out over the city and toward the water. She’d spent many days and nights in New York City, but had never seen a view as spectacular as this.

Tony’s bedroom was large and decorated in 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 7:00 PM. 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. He told her to just bring them something they could eat while working.

Claire hoped for a night out under the New York lights. Instead, she settled for dinner alone in his bedroom and a night with her book. Wearing a black silk nightgown, she fell asleep before Tony ever made it to bed, and he left before she awoke. If the covers on his side weren’t rumpled, she wouldn’t have known he’d 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 6:00 PM. Don’t disappoint me.

There was also cash, with a separate note:

For tipping, remember—appearances!

Okay, she thought. I’m stuck in New York. I might as well enjoy myself.

After her shower, Jan served her a wonderful breakfast and promised to notify Claire as soon as Eric returned from taking Mr. Rawlings to his office. By 10:00 AM, Claire sat in the back of the limousine with Eric driving 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 New York City, but this would be a new experience. The vastness of the city, along with the quantity of people, gave Claire the feeling of anonymity—something 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,” Claire instructed.

Eric didn’t hesitate. Claire decided she’d busy herself 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 2:00 PM. At that time, he would be happy to take her to her next destination.