Behind His Eyes: Truth
Page 32
Mr. Rawlings regrets initially denying connection to her pardon. He also refuses to speculate as to whom he believes was responsible for the poisoning, which resulted in his near death and led to the false accusations. He will only respond, “It is a personal issue.”
It has been reported that multiple long-time employees of Mr. Rawlings have been relieved of their duties.
At the current time, Mr. Rawlings is concentrating on renewing his relationship with Ms. Nichols. He confirms that theirs is a complicated and passionate bond and asks for privacy at this important time of healing.
The entire world would learn of their new relationship—before Claire.
At a little after 7:00 PM Tony received notice of Claire’s arrival, sent Eric to retrieve her, and texted Shelly:
“PUBLISH THE PRESS RELEASE.”
The fact that the gala had already begun, Tony’s impending tardiness, as well as Sophia’s continued attendance worked to exacerbate Tony’s already unpleasant demeanor. He paced near the large windows and punched Mr. George’s number in his phone.
The curator immediately answered, “Mr. Rawlings, I-I’ve texted and called her. Ms. Burke isn’t responding.”
“I’m not sure if you can fathom the depth of my disappointment regarding your inability to perform to my liking. You have received exceptional compensation for your services. I don’t believe I have been as kindly reciprocated.”
“I am here. If I have to drag her from the gala, I will.”
“Do you truly believe that will go unnoticed?”
“No, sir. I’ll think of something.”
“I have taken care of it. My associate, Mr. Hensley, has a suite here at the St. Regis. I want you and Ms. Burke in that suite. Tell her that the buyer—I assume you know better than to use my name—wants to meet with her. Do not leave that suite until my associate releases you. Is that clear?”
“W-what if she wants to bring her husband?”
“That’s not an option. Mr. George, don’t make me repeat myself.”
“Yes, sir, when it comes to the gala—”
“She’s not to be there. And, only he is to remain.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“No, that isn’t acceptable.”
“Mr. Rawlings—”
“This has been the plan forever. If you aren’t capable, I’ll find someone who is.” Tony turned at the sound of footsteps and saw Eric entering with Claire. At least someone could do his job.
“Twenty minutes—I’ll be waiting.” Tony said as he disconnected the call and slid his phone into the pocket of his slacks. “Thank you, Eric. Ms. Claire will remain with me. Please take care of our other issue. I’m late for the benefit, and that’s very upsetting to me.”
“Yes, Mr. Rawlings. Twenty minutes?”
“Not a second more.”
Eric nodded as he backed toward the door. “Yes, sir.”
Tony stood and glared. This wasn’t how he wanted their reunion to go down, yet desperate times called for desperate measures. The closing doors echoed through the suite; silence filled the room, until Claire’s shoulders straightened and she swallowed. “Tony, please explain to—”
He didn’t allow her to finish. Instantly, he was across the room, his chest pressed against hers and her chin in his grip. Forcing eye contact, he leaned down and bathed her cheeks in his warm breath. “I have no intention of being at a social gathering, or anywhere else, with you and another man. You’re a fool to consider such a thing.”
Her face trembled below his grasp, yet her words sounded strong. “I agreed to attend this gala weeks ago, and I didn’t learn of your attendance until this evening.”
Tightening his hold of her chin, he replied, “Then your informant is as incompetent as the firewall at SiJo.”
Fire ignited behind her glare. “What did you do?”
“Nothing—and as long as your friends don’t have an overwhelming sense of conscience requiring them to inform the public of their near breach, no harm will come.”
“Why?”
He released her chin and continued to stare. That damn fire burned right through his overwrought nerves. He’d made the right decision. Claire may not realize it, but they belonged together. No one else could do what she was doing. No one else could continue to maintain eye contact as well as question his motives.
She repeated her question. “Why did you do this?”
“I told you, Claire. I know your weakness; it’s your concern for others. God only knows why, but for some reason, Amber McCoy has been kind to you. Her company won’t be harmed.” He paused and walked toward the window. The darkening sky reminded him that he was late. The gala was starting without him, and he’d yet to learn of Sophia’s location. Exhaling, Tony turned back to Claire and continued. “If you follow my rules.”
He waited. Claire didn’t respond, yet her complexion blanched as she lost footing. It wasn’t what he’d expected. Fight? Argue? Tears? Instead, she suddenly appeared ill. “Are you not feeling well?” Tony asked. Concern overtook his displeased tone “You’re pale.”
“I need to sit down.”
Wrapping his arm around her petite waist, Tony helped Claire to the nearest sofa. As she sat, her beautifully painted face glistened with a sheen of perspiration. He watched in horror as she lowered her head to her knees. Tony noticed a crystal pitcher of iced water and poured Claire a glass. When he returned, he knelt before her and handed her the glass. The domination in his voice was replaced with something softer and reassuring. “Here’s some water, drink.”
It has been reported that multiple long-time employees of Mr. Rawlings have been relieved of their duties.
At the current time, Mr. Rawlings is concentrating on renewing his relationship with Ms. Nichols. He confirms that theirs is a complicated and passionate bond and asks for privacy at this important time of healing.
The entire world would learn of their new relationship—before Claire.
At a little after 7:00 PM Tony received notice of Claire’s arrival, sent Eric to retrieve her, and texted Shelly:
“PUBLISH THE PRESS RELEASE.”
The fact that the gala had already begun, Tony’s impending tardiness, as well as Sophia’s continued attendance worked to exacerbate Tony’s already unpleasant demeanor. He paced near the large windows and punched Mr. George’s number in his phone.
The curator immediately answered, “Mr. Rawlings, I-I’ve texted and called her. Ms. Burke isn’t responding.”
“I’m not sure if you can fathom the depth of my disappointment regarding your inability to perform to my liking. You have received exceptional compensation for your services. I don’t believe I have been as kindly reciprocated.”
“I am here. If I have to drag her from the gala, I will.”
“Do you truly believe that will go unnoticed?”
“No, sir. I’ll think of something.”
“I have taken care of it. My associate, Mr. Hensley, has a suite here at the St. Regis. I want you and Ms. Burke in that suite. Tell her that the buyer—I assume you know better than to use my name—wants to meet with her. Do not leave that suite until my associate releases you. Is that clear?”
“W-what if she wants to bring her husband?”
“That’s not an option. Mr. George, don’t make me repeat myself.”
“Yes, sir, when it comes to the gala—”
“She’s not to be there. And, only he is to remain.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“No, that isn’t acceptable.”
“Mr. Rawlings—”
“This has been the plan forever. If you aren’t capable, I’ll find someone who is.” Tony turned at the sound of footsteps and saw Eric entering with Claire. At least someone could do his job.
“Twenty minutes—I’ll be waiting.” Tony said as he disconnected the call and slid his phone into the pocket of his slacks. “Thank you, Eric. Ms. Claire will remain with me. Please take care of our other issue. I’m late for the benefit, and that’s very upsetting to me.”
“Yes, Mr. Rawlings. Twenty minutes?”
“Not a second more.”
Eric nodded as he backed toward the door. “Yes, sir.”
Tony stood and glared. This wasn’t how he wanted their reunion to go down, yet desperate times called for desperate measures. The closing doors echoed through the suite; silence filled the room, until Claire’s shoulders straightened and she swallowed. “Tony, please explain to—”
He didn’t allow her to finish. Instantly, he was across the room, his chest pressed against hers and her chin in his grip. Forcing eye contact, he leaned down and bathed her cheeks in his warm breath. “I have no intention of being at a social gathering, or anywhere else, with you and another man. You’re a fool to consider such a thing.”
Her face trembled below his grasp, yet her words sounded strong. “I agreed to attend this gala weeks ago, and I didn’t learn of your attendance until this evening.”
Tightening his hold of her chin, he replied, “Then your informant is as incompetent as the firewall at SiJo.”
Fire ignited behind her glare. “What did you do?”
“Nothing—and as long as your friends don’t have an overwhelming sense of conscience requiring them to inform the public of their near breach, no harm will come.”
“Why?”
He released her chin and continued to stare. That damn fire burned right through his overwrought nerves. He’d made the right decision. Claire may not realize it, but they belonged together. No one else could do what she was doing. No one else could continue to maintain eye contact as well as question his motives.
She repeated her question. “Why did you do this?”
“I told you, Claire. I know your weakness; it’s your concern for others. God only knows why, but for some reason, Amber McCoy has been kind to you. Her company won’t be harmed.” He paused and walked toward the window. The darkening sky reminded him that he was late. The gala was starting without him, and he’d yet to learn of Sophia’s location. Exhaling, Tony turned back to Claire and continued. “If you follow my rules.”
He waited. Claire didn’t respond, yet her complexion blanched as she lost footing. It wasn’t what he’d expected. Fight? Argue? Tears? Instead, she suddenly appeared ill. “Are you not feeling well?” Tony asked. Concern overtook his displeased tone “You’re pale.”
“I need to sit down.”
Wrapping his arm around her petite waist, Tony helped Claire to the nearest sofa. As she sat, her beautifully painted face glistened with a sheen of perspiration. He watched in horror as she lowered her head to her knees. Tony noticed a crystal pitcher of iced water and poured Claire a glass. When he returned, he knelt before her and handed her the glass. The domination in his voice was replaced with something softer and reassuring. “Here’s some water, drink.”
