Consequences (25 page)

He put his head down on her hair. Claire exhaled at the unexpected revelation: Anthony Rawlings was apologizing. She stood still while he encircled her with his arms, her trembling ceased and she let her face fall against his chest, inhaling the scent of smoke on his shirt. She felt his erection against her hips and the tension began to build within her depths. Tony’s tone, now mellow, “Up until the moment Sue handed you that note I was extremely proud of you. You were amazing. Courtney told me that about ten times.” Claire lifted her eyes to see his expression, smiling matching his tone. Claire smiled and felt her body relax against his. “There is something I would like us to do.”

The relief of his apology overwhelmed her. Her body continued its disregard for reason. She wanted him to take her and didn’t hesitate. “Whatever it is, yes.”

“Your hair, smells like smoke. I would like us to shower.” Claire took Tony’s hand and led him to her shower. He followed. Once there she helped him undress, and he started undoing her braid. Under the warm spray of the shower he wet her hair, added shampoo, and gently massaged. “Your hair is beautiful, but it really needs trimming. And the weather is getting colder, so maybe some highlights. I believe you will enjoy the spa. It has a great reputation.”

She turned to face him. “You didn’t cancel my appointment?”

Smiling tenderly he said, “No, I was hoping something would change my mind.”

After working the cream rinse into her hair, he took the shower gel and began to lather Claire’s back. Wrapping his arms around her, he lathered her breasts and stomach. Finally, he couldn’t control himself any longer. Claire didn’t want him to. His tender touch caused an ache deep inside of her. He turned her around and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around him and his mouth excitedly nibbled her breasts. His tongue created intense sensations as it tantalized her hard round nipples. She gripped his wide shoulders and let her fingers run through his wet hair as his strong arms and torso held her body against the wall of the shower and moved her. She yearned for him. He tempted her with his fingers until self-control was beyond his reach. He filled her completely. Thunderous convulsions overtook her body. She expected his actions, but the fulfillment made her back arch and sounds escape her lips. Their bodies moved as one, not because of instructions or demands. Instead, the cause was erotic carnal physical instinct. In time the ardent passion moved from the shower to the bed. He received his desires, but he made sure Claire did too.

At some point during the night, Tony asked Claire what she overheard. She told him. At first, she didn’t want to say anything about her looking for a sugar daddy, but why hide anything now? Tony laughed.

He was happy to learn about MaryAnn and that Courtney and Sue were so helpful throughout the day. She told Tony how much she liked seeing him in jeans. Definitely sexy, she told him. He told her he preferred her without jeans or anything else. That started them again.

Claire’s spa appointment would be the following Wednesday. Initially she didn’t want to go, but now she thought about Chicago and Tony’s apartment. “How many apartments do you have?”

“As many as I need. I don’t like hotels much.” They both drifted off to sleep.

Tony woke before his alarm. Hearing Claire’s soft and delicate breathing, he saw her curled into a ball on the far side of the bed, covered only by a sheet. With the pale light of the lingering moon he noticed her chestnut hair fanned around her head, damp and wavy, her body petite, soft, and supple. He carefully lifted the blankets and covered her. As he watched, the warmth of the blanket allowed her to unconsciously relax and settle into a deeper slumber.

This was not his plan. Things had been in the works for so long and now emotions were wreaking havoc. It was supposed to be easy. Her only purpose was for physical enjoyment, release of energy, and personal pleasure. He had watched her for so long. He told himself he deserved that. Yet somehow, now while at work, in a meeting, on a plane, anywhere, without warning he would recall something she said or did and a smile would come to his lips. Tony even noticed strange looks from Brent, a visible sign that his thoughts were revealing themselves.

This was wrong. Tony didn’t want to have feelings. The sex was great. It was okay to want her, dominate her, and control her. It was
not
okay to
want
to be with her,
please
her, and
love
her. Yet every one of his senses desired Claire. Watching her sleep, he wanted to see her emerald-green eyes that flared when she was upset with him, her neck that straightened with defiance even when her words accommodated his demands, and her body that filled his every waking thought. He wanted to touch her skin, warm, soft yet firm, and her long silky hair. He wanted to taste her. He wanted to smell her scent when he first came home, clean and fresh with her chosen perfume; and the aroma of her after sex, warm, moist, and exhausted. And he wanted to hear her. At this moment, he heard her faint breathing but he also liked to hear her endless talk. He knew she longed for companionship and camaraderie. He also knew he was currently her only choice. He tried desperately to appear uninterested, but her voice filled him with an intense desire he’d never experienced. That desire had a sexual component, but it also contained a desire to fulfill her yearnings. Tony never previously considered fulfilling someone else’s desires. His entire adult life had been about
his
wants, goals, ambitions, and needs.

As his mind pondered these dilemmas, he thought about her just a few feet away. He wanted her again. He knew he could wake her and she would accommodate his demands. Laying his head back on the pillow he remembered the sex they experienced and wondered
when
did
this
happen?
He no longer wanted to dominate but to satisfy. This situation was completely unplanned. His entire life, business, everything was calculated,
how
could
this
happen?

He hadn’t realized until he heard himself apologize. When he entered her suite he knew what he was going to say. It wasn’t what he said. Anthony Rawlings could count on one hand the people to whom he’d apologized. Now this woman, a piece of his plan, was on that shortlist.

At the Simmonses she performed beyond his expectation. Then his overreaction almost ruined everything. Claire’s strength, standing up to him, explaining the situation, and then not complaining yet complying with his punishment touched him. But when she was relieved by his realization, instead of upset by his overreaction, she melted him.

In reflection he berated himself. He should have stayed indifferent, dominant, and in charge. The words from his past echoed in his memory, “Only the weak apologize.” He reconsidered waking her, fulfilling the indifferent domineering qualities that would prove he wasn’t weak. Then he saw her peaceful expression and thought of her giving and surrendering herself over and over. Quietly, he got out of bed, put on his trousers, and left her suite. Stepping into the corridor, he decided to work out.

There
is
something
perverse
about
more
than
enough.
When
we
have
more,
it
is
never
enough.
It
is
always
somewhere
out
there,
just
out
of
reach.
The
more
we
acquire,
the
more
elusive
enough
becomes.

—Unknown

 Chapter 17

Clawson tried one more time. “It is very easy. Textiles have made you a fortune, a fortune you can now plant and invest to grow a lot more. This is 1977. The real money isn’t in creating. It is in owning and selling. See these figures?” He handed Nathaniel the reports. “You have capital not only in profit margins but also in secured retirement plans. That money is just sitting there, waiting for those employees to get old. Hell, many of them won’t be eligible for retirement for another twenty years. Use that money, invest it. Grow it. Right now, it’s just rotting away in these accounts.”

Samuel stayed quiet as long as he could. His father’s dark eyes were starting to flash dollar signs. “Clawson, the problem with your plan is that our employees own that money, not us. They’ve entrusted us to keep that money for them so it will be available when they retire. And it is growing interest.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Rawls, have you seen the interest rates? Your employees will have their money because you aren’t going to lose it. You’re growing it. Then when the day is done, they’ll have their retirement and Rawls Corp. will have additional profits.” Clawson spoke to Samuel, but hoped Nathaniel was the one listening.

He was. Nathaniel said, “Jesus, Samuel, have you looked at these reports? Where are the figures on Hong Kong Industrials? Since the exchange-trade options change of seventy-three, it’s a cake-walk to manipulate these options.” Clawson handed Nathaniel the reports. “We set our strike price. If the stock price starts to move out of the option near expiration, we set the cap.”

Clawson smiled. The old man was finally getting it. “You have the capital to do that.”

Samuel threw a report on the table. “It
isn’t
our capital.”

Looking first to the suddenly disorganized stacks of papers, then to his son, Nathaniel’s dark eyes darkened. “Like hell it isn’t. It is my goddamn company. I built it from nothing. Do you think those employees you’re so damned concerned about would have a job if I didn’t work my ass off thirty years ago?”

Who
will
tell
whether
one
happy
moment
of
love
or
the
joy
of
breathing
or
walking
on
a
bright
morning
and
smelling
the
fresh
air
is
not
worth
all
the
suffering
and
effort
which
life
implies.

—Erich Fromm

 Chapter 18

A week later, they flew to Chicago. Tony absorbed himself in his work and laptop as Claire sat quietly and thought about the city. It had been a frequent haunt during her college days. Valparaiso is only an hour and twenty minutes from the Loop. She and her sorority sisters would spend entire afternoons or evenings enjoying the sights. They would shop, dine, or go to the theater. They knew their way to all the best deals.

Claire remembered the fun as they rode the L and the train around the city. Sometimes they would go with guys to a baseball game, usually the Cubs. She enjoyed watching people at Wrigley Field. Not really a baseball fan, she liked warm evenings with a group of friends, enjoying hot dogs and beers. They would all pile into someone’s vehicle and road-trip. It really didn’t get better than that. They were even known to blow off classes for a day at Wrigley. Claire rationalized it as academic research, her major being meteorology and baseball held outdoors, it all made sense.