Revealed: The Missing Years
Page 40
Perhaps another drink was in order.
Tony refused to give up on Claire. Even if he couldn’t see her, he would never stop watching her. He couldn’t. She was part of him. The separation obviously added to his funk. Despite it all, he believed with all of his heart that she would get better. She just needed better doctors—the best money could buy. There was a reason for his success, other than Nathaniel. With Tony’s money he could provide Claire and Nichol with the best the world had to offer, even if he were going to be spending the next three to fifteen years behind bars. The plea agreement was in place, the final decision for sentencing was up to the judge. Claire and Nichol deserved that and more.
Tomorrow, Tony had a meeting with the Rawlings Industries board of directors and then a web conference with the presidents of the subsidiaries. He prayed that his admission of guilt and quiet plea agreement would help to take the focus away from his company. It wasn’t just for him, but for the thousands of people employed by him. Even that reminded him of Claire. That damn little company in Pennsylvania. She’d saved their jobs and now his past could take them all away.
No. He’d walk away from the company before he let that happen.
Tony looked at his watch; it was a little after 8:00 PM. Sitting back up, he knew it was too early to fall asleep. But it wasn’t too early for Nichol to fall asleep. His arms ached with the desire to hold and rock their daughter. He turned on his phone to a picture taken only a few days ago. Her cheeks looked rounder than he remembered, and she was smiling. While it broke his heart, it also encouraged him. Tony hated Emily with everything in him, but he was thankful she was caring for Nichol. The picture came from Courtney. She’d finally convinced Emily to allow her to visit. A faint grin came to Tony’s lips. Courtney had a way with everyone. Hopefully, she’d soon be allowed to visit Claire, too.
Thankfully, John and Jane had successfully worked out a plea agreement for Claire. The FBI came forward and agreed to drop the charge of aiding and abetting: that left only attempted murder. The video made it clear that Claire acted in self-defense. The prosecutor discussed aggravated assault; however, it was her mental condition that sealed the deal. Declared unfit to stand trial, Claire was exonerated of all charges.
Tony and Evergreen had come to a conclusion. It was Tony’s conclusion, but Evergreen agreed. Dropping the charges against Claire didn’t make the prosecutor look bad. He’d caught a much bigger fish in Anthony Rawlings.
Before Tony could celebrate Claire’s freedom with another drink, he heard the knock on his office door. Curiously, he asked, “Who is it?”
“It’s me, Mr. Rawlings. May I come in?” Patricia’s muffled voice came from behind the closed door.
Tony rose and opened the door. “Patricia, why are you still here? You should be home.”
She lifted a plastic bag with what appeared to be Styrofoam containers and grinned. “You need to eat.”
Shaking his head, Tony ran his hand through his unkempt hair and allowed her entry. “Thank you, but you didn’t need to do that. I could have called—”
Patricia opened the bag and set the containers at the conference table. As she smiled, she said, “You could have, but you wouldn’t have.”
She was right. Tony had no intention of eating. He honestly hadn’t even given it much thought. Noticing the way she was setting two places he asked, “Did you get something for yourself, too?”
“I did.” She tilted her head toward the liquor cabinet. “I didn’t think you should be drinking alone, either.”
Since his return from paradise, Patricia had been instrumental in catching him up on all things Rawlings. He’d never be able to thank her for the long hours she’d spent running reports, filling him in on the numbers, and all around helping him re-acclimate to the world of CEO. It wasn’t that Tim, Tom, and Brent hadn’t been helpful—they were. But Tom and Brent were overwhelmed with legal issues, and Tim was still making the day-to-day decisions regarding operations. Tony didn’t see the need for resuming the role just to lose it when his prison sentence began.
He lifted the bottle of Johnny Walker. “I’d offer you something else, but this seems to be all I have.”
Patricia raised her eyebrows. “I’m not much of a drinker. Oh, but…” She hurried from the room. Seconds later she was back with a bottle of red wine and an opener. “…I’ve had this in my file cabinet for months. It was a Christmas present that I forgot to take home.”
Tony grinned and reached for the bottle. He closed one eye, helping his focus, as he lined the little curly Q opener over the cork. When the cork popped, he said, “Well then, here’s to your forgetfulness.”
Patricia produced two new crystal tumblers from the cabinet. “Oh, my memory isn’t that bad.”
“No, no, it’s not,” Tony said as he pulled out her chair and sat. “Thank you for this kindness. I seem to be taking self-pity to a whole new level.”
“Well,” her voice came out an octave higher. “Mr. Rawlings, none of that tonight. I’d say you’ve had enough for one day.” As she lifted her tumbler, her brows knitted together. “Should you drink wine after liquor? What’s that saying?”
Tony chuckled, lifting his glass and clinking hers. “I believe it has to do with beer, not wine. Beer before liquor, never been sicker. Liquor before beer, all in the clear.”
Taking a sip, she laughed. “Then I guess you’re safe.”
Tony refused to give up on Claire. Even if he couldn’t see her, he would never stop watching her. He couldn’t. She was part of him. The separation obviously added to his funk. Despite it all, he believed with all of his heart that she would get better. She just needed better doctors—the best money could buy. There was a reason for his success, other than Nathaniel. With Tony’s money he could provide Claire and Nichol with the best the world had to offer, even if he were going to be spending the next three to fifteen years behind bars. The plea agreement was in place, the final decision for sentencing was up to the judge. Claire and Nichol deserved that and more.
Tomorrow, Tony had a meeting with the Rawlings Industries board of directors and then a web conference with the presidents of the subsidiaries. He prayed that his admission of guilt and quiet plea agreement would help to take the focus away from his company. It wasn’t just for him, but for the thousands of people employed by him. Even that reminded him of Claire. That damn little company in Pennsylvania. She’d saved their jobs and now his past could take them all away.
No. He’d walk away from the company before he let that happen.
Tony looked at his watch; it was a little after 8:00 PM. Sitting back up, he knew it was too early to fall asleep. But it wasn’t too early for Nichol to fall asleep. His arms ached with the desire to hold and rock their daughter. He turned on his phone to a picture taken only a few days ago. Her cheeks looked rounder than he remembered, and she was smiling. While it broke his heart, it also encouraged him. Tony hated Emily with everything in him, but he was thankful she was caring for Nichol. The picture came from Courtney. She’d finally convinced Emily to allow her to visit. A faint grin came to Tony’s lips. Courtney had a way with everyone. Hopefully, she’d soon be allowed to visit Claire, too.
Thankfully, John and Jane had successfully worked out a plea agreement for Claire. The FBI came forward and agreed to drop the charge of aiding and abetting: that left only attempted murder. The video made it clear that Claire acted in self-defense. The prosecutor discussed aggravated assault; however, it was her mental condition that sealed the deal. Declared unfit to stand trial, Claire was exonerated of all charges.
Tony and Evergreen had come to a conclusion. It was Tony’s conclusion, but Evergreen agreed. Dropping the charges against Claire didn’t make the prosecutor look bad. He’d caught a much bigger fish in Anthony Rawlings.
Before Tony could celebrate Claire’s freedom with another drink, he heard the knock on his office door. Curiously, he asked, “Who is it?”
“It’s me, Mr. Rawlings. May I come in?” Patricia’s muffled voice came from behind the closed door.
Tony rose and opened the door. “Patricia, why are you still here? You should be home.”
She lifted a plastic bag with what appeared to be Styrofoam containers and grinned. “You need to eat.”
Shaking his head, Tony ran his hand through his unkempt hair and allowed her entry. “Thank you, but you didn’t need to do that. I could have called—”
Patricia opened the bag and set the containers at the conference table. As she smiled, she said, “You could have, but you wouldn’t have.”
She was right. Tony had no intention of eating. He honestly hadn’t even given it much thought. Noticing the way she was setting two places he asked, “Did you get something for yourself, too?”
“I did.” She tilted her head toward the liquor cabinet. “I didn’t think you should be drinking alone, either.”
Since his return from paradise, Patricia had been instrumental in catching him up on all things Rawlings. He’d never be able to thank her for the long hours she’d spent running reports, filling him in on the numbers, and all around helping him re-acclimate to the world of CEO. It wasn’t that Tim, Tom, and Brent hadn’t been helpful—they were. But Tom and Brent were overwhelmed with legal issues, and Tim was still making the day-to-day decisions regarding operations. Tony didn’t see the need for resuming the role just to lose it when his prison sentence began.
He lifted the bottle of Johnny Walker. “I’d offer you something else, but this seems to be all I have.”
Patricia raised her eyebrows. “I’m not much of a drinker. Oh, but…” She hurried from the room. Seconds later she was back with a bottle of red wine and an opener. “…I’ve had this in my file cabinet for months. It was a Christmas present that I forgot to take home.”
Tony grinned and reached for the bottle. He closed one eye, helping his focus, as he lined the little curly Q opener over the cork. When the cork popped, he said, “Well then, here’s to your forgetfulness.”
Patricia produced two new crystal tumblers from the cabinet. “Oh, my memory isn’t that bad.”
“No, no, it’s not,” Tony said as he pulled out her chair and sat. “Thank you for this kindness. I seem to be taking self-pity to a whole new level.”
“Well,” her voice came out an octave higher. “Mr. Rawlings, none of that tonight. I’d say you’ve had enough for one day.” As she lifted her tumbler, her brows knitted together. “Should you drink wine after liquor? What’s that saying?”
Tony chuckled, lifting his glass and clinking hers. “I believe it has to do with beer, not wine. Beer before liquor, never been sicker. Liquor before beer, all in the clear.”
Taking a sip, she laughed. “Then I guess you’re safe.”
