“How could I?”
“We will need to discuss it further.”
“I’m discussed out.” Later Claire would reflect on their candor in Eric’s presence. Sometime ago Tony’s intimate staff became part of the woodwork. Claire didn’t mean to say they weren’t people, but, on most occasions she’d forget they were even present.
“I can tell you’re tired. Go get some sleep. We can continue our discussion tomorrow before I leave for Iowa.”
Claire closed her eyes. The last thing she wanted was Tony in Palo Alto with Harry. “I have plans tomorrow. Call me after you’re back to Iowa.”
“This would be better discussed in person.”
She exhaled, “Let me meet you somewhere.”
His eyes returned her blaze. “Ten o’clock. Text me the location. Palo Alto is fine.”
Claire nodded. She didn’t want to meet, but the concession was better than having him at Amber’s condominium. “Tomorrow.” she replied.
“Tomorrow, Claire.” He closed the door.
Eric eased the Mercedes C-Class out of the underground garage and around the front of the Saint Regis Hotel. Along the sidewalk, under the bright lights of the canopy, were multitudes of people. Some had cameras while others only wanted to see the attendees of the gala, as they made their way to the line of waiting cars. Claire reclined against the soft leather seat, thankful for Tony’s discretion, and the tinted windows. No one seemed to notice the dark grey sedan as it made its way to US 101.
Once on the highway Claire turned on her iPhone. The time appeared, 12:13 A.M., where had the night gone? The screen filled with messages: 16 missed calls, 3 voice mails, and 11 text messages. She debated. Should she listen and read, or should she just call?
Sweeping the screen with her finger she sought her call log and tapped Harry’s name. Her heart beat rapidly as the sound of ringing filled her ears. Glancing forward she saw Eric’s eyes in the rearview mirror. She knew anything she said would be repeated to Tony as soon as she exited the car.
Harry’s voice sounded strained, “Claire.”
She took a deep breath, “I’m finally on my way home. I should be there in about an hour.”
Silence... finally he asked, “Can you talk right now?”
Her heart broke hearing the emotion in his voice. “Not really.”
“Is he with you?”
She imagined his clenched jaws and strained blue eyes. “No, I’m being driven by his driver.”
“And he can hear you?” There seemed to be relief in the knowledge Claire wasn’t currently with Tony.
“Yes.”
“I’ll tell Amber you’re on your way. Will you please come here first?”
Although she was exhausted beyond belief and didn’t want any more confrontations, Claire knew she owed this to Harry. “Yes, as soon as I can.”
“Can we work this out?”
She thought about the news release. Had he seen it? Were there pictures of her and Tony on the internet? What did he think happened? A tear fell from her eye as she replied, “I hope so.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
She nodded into the phone as the connection ended. He didn’t say good-bye. She couldn’t remember a time in the past when he hadn’t said good-bye. Claire leaned her head against the seat and watched the lights of the highway. She thought about checking the messages and missed calls. Instead she watched the lights.
Power resides only where men believe it resides.
― George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings
Chapter 37
Sophia gripped tightly to Derek’s elbow as they walked past the crowd of onlookers. The bright lights of the hotel’s canopy illuminated the night. A gentleman wearing a black uniform opened the door of the Shedis-tics’ limousine. Gracefully Sophia lowered herself into the spacious compartment and settled into the plush leather seat. Once Derek was beside her, the door closed and the car eased forward. It was the same car which brought them to the gala. Sophia whispered in Derek’s ear, “I like some of the perks with your new job!”
Momentarily closing her eyes, Sophia enjoyed the silence of the limousine. Compared to the gala, the tranquility was heaven. With the multitudes of people talking, the music, people dancing, and the paparazzi outside the hotel, for the past three hours noise had been constant. Suddenly she remembered the presidential suite. Sophia struggled with her mixed emotions. She was angry she’d missed part of the gala, sad at disappointing her husband, and excited about the mystery buyer’s newest offer.
Derek’s familiar touch warmed her hand and brought her thoughts back to the man beside her. She leaned against his sturdy shoulder. Her cheek brushed the sleeve of his new tuxedo while her fingers played with the satin lapels.
“Are you tired?” Derek asked.
“I am, but I enjoyed the dancing very much.”
“Me too.” He kissed the top of her head.
Sophia exhaled; she’d already apologized a hundred times for missing the meal and speeches. Nevertheless, she felt the need to do it again, “Derek, I’m so sorry I missed part of the gala.”
“You don’t need to keep apologizing. I understand. It’s your job.”
Sophia nodded. She rarely thought of herself as employed. Yet, Derek was right; art was her job. She reasoned he understood job responsibilities and equating her temporary absence in that way made it easier for him to justify.