Truth - Page 172/204

“Ms. Nichols, are you well? You’re very pale.”

Claire peered toward Grace’s concerned expression, “I think I just stood too fast.”

“Yes, ma’am. We’ll have your luggage out to you in a few minutes.”

“Thank you,” Claire said as the door began to open. Remaining seated she inhaled the fresh air and returned her iPhone to normal. There were three text messages. The first one was from Tony, sent just as she left Iowa: OH, BUT HOW I WOULD LOVE FOR YOU TO ELABORATE! The color quickly returned to her cheeks.

The second was received only a few minutes ago. I’M HERE, from Harry.

The third came immediately after Harry’s. YOU SHOULD BE LANDING, PLEASE LET ME KNOW YOU HAVE ARRIVED SAFELY, from Tony.

With the fresh air filling the cabin, Claire quickly replied to the third text: JUST LANDED. THANK YOU AGAIN FOR EVERYTHING. I SLEPT THE ENTIRE FLIGHT... VERY COMFORTABLE WITHOUT ALL THAT RECYCLED AIR! Smiling she hit send.

The comfortable California breeze refreshed Claire as she stood at the door atop the steps. Looking around she saw Harry standing casually near one of the hangers. Immediately, she recognized his blonde hair moving slightly in the breeze. Her eyes moved from there to his well-fitted black t-shirt tucked casually into the slim waist of his faded jeans. Claire remembered telling Courtney about Harry, describing him as the anti-Tony. That was so true and yet not. Both were incredibly accomplished, strong men. Tonight’s conversation would be much easier if Claire could in some way blame Harry. However, she knew none of this was Harry’s fault.

She smiled his direction and he nodded, stepping toward her as she descended the stairs.

*****

Sitting behind his large mahogany desk, Tony tried in vain to read the documents on his computer. The words entered his mind and disappeared before he could digest their meaning. He watched the clock in the corner of his monitor. Finally the iPhone to his right sounded and vibrated upon the smooth glossy surface. Hastily he swiped the screen. 1 Text Message: JUST LANDED. THANK YOU AGAIN FOR EVERYTHING. I SLEPT THE ENTIRE FLIGHT... VERY COMFORTABLE WITHOUT ALL THAT RECYCLED AIR! He smiled at her cheekiness. Maybe the recycled air was a stretch, but he would undoubtedly prefer her in Iowa to California. Nevertheless, they made progress this weekend. They both knew it. His phone sounded and vibrated again. 1 Text Message: MS. NICHOLS PLANE JUST LANDED. MR. BALDWIN WAITING AND LUGGAGE BEING PUT INTO HIS CAR. I WILL FOLLOW.

Tony’s neck muscles tightened. Does picking her up at the airport constitute a date? Tony tried to tell himself it didn’t. Besides, would he rather have her in a taxi with some stranger? They spent four days together, made love on three different occasions, and have a baby coming. While reasoning words went through his thoughts, the clenched jaws and tightened shoulders revealed the jealousy cursing through his veins.

Tony replied to Phillip Roach: KEEP HER IN SIGHT. LET ME KNOW IF THERE ARE ANY STOPS ON THE WAY TO THE CONDO. WHERE IS THAT PICTURE? He hit send. Text message number two, to Claire: OUR AGREEMENT FORBIDS PUBLIC EXPOSURE WITH ANYONE ELSE! I THOUGHT I’D MADE THAT CLEAR! WE HAVE AN UNDERSTANDING! (Exclamation marks were so often overused in text messages.) Tony hesitated. He repeatedly hit the backspace key.

He typed once again: IM GLAD THE AIR WAS TO YOUR LIKING. REMEMBER OUR AGREEMENT. CALL WHEN YOU’RE SETTLED. The restraint was difficult, but he knew he wasn’t going to win her back without effort. The damn press would have a field day if they saw her with Mr. Baldwin, but Tony reminded himself to do what he’d told her to do -- trust. Exhaling he tried. It was especially difficult if you’d never done it before.

The sound and vibration announced another arriving text message: THE PICTURE WAS SENT TO YOUR EMAIL. LET ME KNOW IF YOU DON’T HAVE IT.

Shit, Tony had been trying to read the acquisition documents and forgot to check his email. He switched screens. There was the email from Phillip Roach with attachment. He opened the attachment. The photo quality was poor, obviously enlarged too many times, creating a very grainy image. Tony pushed the plush carpet with his feet, as his leather chair moved away from the screen hoping for a clearer picture. He saw a man with little to no hair. Was he older and balding or younger with his head shaved? Looking closer Tony guessed the man was older. Normally, Tony was excellent with names and faces. He saw a hint of familiarity, but Tony couldn’t remember why. Perhaps it had been a long time since he’d seen him, or maybe he’d been on television or in the news. Regardless, the twinge of recognition made Tony uncomfortable. Why would someone he recognized be stealing Claire’s laptop?

Two more text messages came through his iPhone. The first one, from Claire: I DO. I WILL LATER. Tony exhaled. It took every fiber of self-restraint to not get on another plane and go get her. Second message, from Phillip Roach: DID YOU GET THE EMAIL? I CAN RESEND.

*****

On a Sunday night the light traffic around Palo Alto flowed well. Nevertheless, within Harry’s Mustang their polite conversation was strained through the dense unspoken tension. Harry asked, “How was the wedding?”

Claire told him about Caleb, Julia, Courtney, and Brent and how nice it was to talk openly. She rambled about one thing and another, avoiding their impending discussion.

As the tension began to wane, Harry asked, “Would you like to get something to eat?”

Claire thought about it. She was hungry. Yet, Tony’s reminder about their agreement came to mind. Even more deterring was the thought of her and Harry’s future talk. “I think I’d like to order something to the condo,” she said, as they neared the four story building. “It will be more private, and we need to talk.”