Convicted (40 page)

Tony sighed. “I hope so, because my dear, there’s more.”

Claire closed her eyes, unsure how much more she was ready to hear.

“Open your eyes”—Tony demanded—“I need to see what you’re thinking.” Obediently, she did as he said. His next confession came with more emotion than she was accustomed to hearing from him. “My life hasn’t been perfect, yet I’ve never wasted my time envying anyone else. If something wasn’t the best it could be—I made it better. Never did I want to be someone else. That’s still true; however, there’s one person of whom I was jealous.”

“Simon? Why?”

“He was the only man I knew of that you loved. I did what I do—I made it better—for me. I separated the two of you.” Tony shook his head. “So you can imagine how shocked I was when he showed up at the symposium in Chicago. When he approached us, I didn’t know who he was until he asked to speak with you privately. Suddenly, I recognized him”—he paused—“Then...it was
you
I didn’t recognize.”

Claire couldn’t process fast enough to respond. There were so many thoughts, yet all she could do was listen.

“You were usually so perfect in public—flawless.”

She remembered what could happen if she wasn’t; nevertheless, she stayed silent; her thoughts monopolized by this conversation’s destination.

“Your expression and then...” Tony’s words trailed away as he privately relived the encounter. “You could hardly speak. Even the introduction was difficult for you.” Tony’s sudden restraint became visible as the muscles in his neck tensed and his tone hardened. “For maybe only a split second, because Mrs. Rawlings, you quickly remembered to play your part, I saw something in your eyes I’d never seen. When you recognized him, before you remembered who you were, who I was, for only a moment, you were that eighteen-year-old girl I’d seen in pictures.”

She tried to speak, although she didn’t know what to say. The Claire from 2011 would have known the exact appropriate response—she wasn’t that Claire anymore. “Tony,” she steadied her voice. “If you saw that—I’m not denying it was there. Honestly, I don’t remember feeling anything except panic. I guarantee, I was more afraid of you being upset than I was happy to see Simon.” The warmth from his body covered hers. She continued, “If you expect me to apologize for that split second, then I’m sorry—not for that split second—but that you’re not getting that apology.”

Tony shook his head. “No, I wasn’t expecting an apology.
I’m
trying to give one.”

Claire lifted a brow.

“Don’t you see? Instead of having confidence in our marriage, I was jealous. You were the woman I manipulated into marrying me, and Simon was the man you loved”—he paused—“To say I behaved badly would be a gross understatement”—Tony inhaled and exhaled, and continued—“to Simon and to you.”

“I do love you.”

“Now”—he kissed her—“it’s all right. Remember, we promised honesty?” His rage, which moments earlier filled their bedroom, faded into the stormy skies. “That look, the one I saw for only a short time, I see it now—every day—every time your beautiful, green eyes look my way. I think perhaps it’s a look that one must earn. When we saw Simon in Chicago, I hadn’t earned it—I’d demanded it.” He closed his eyes. “It isn’t the same thing.”

She reached up and caressed his cheek. Her touch opened his eyes, revealing the storm of brown behind his lids.

“Claire, I don’t want to lose that look. I promise, I’ll never demand it again...I don’t want that. I want what I have today. I’m concerned that, when all my confessions are out—it’ll be gone. ”

“I’ve told you, my love won’t change, but you started this story, so are you going to finish it?” Her stomach twisted with each word. Her accelerated heartbeat throbbed behind her temples.

“I apologize for how I reacted in Chicago.”

“Tony, you opened this door; I need the rest of the story. Do you know how Simon died?”

She felt his body tense as he said, “I do.” His words came quickly as if speed could take away their sting. “His plane was tampered with, but I don’t know who did it or how they did it. It’s a very complicated network of connections to allow the person paying the fee to stay anonymous.”

The air left her lungs. “Oh, God...” She pushed against his shoulders. “Please get up, I can’t breathe.”

“Open your eyes.”

Claire shook her head.

“Claire”—his tone now softer—“Please open your eyes.” Slowly, emerald green met sad brown, as Tony offered, “I can call Roach. I can be gone before noon.”

She shook her head against the pillow. “Stop that! Stop threatening to leave every time I’m upset. I deserve to be upset!”

Tony lay back onto his pillow. “I’m not threatening—I’m offering.”

For a while, they lay in silence, both staring up at the ceiling. Only the sound of their breathing and the rumble of thunder getting louder and louder filled her ears. Finally, Claire said, “I wanted so badly for that not to be true. I wanted you to be totally innocent. I tried to blame Catherine for everything, but”—Claire reached for his hand, their fingers intertwined—“I think I’ve known it for a long time.”

“When the FBI questioned me, they insinuated other crimes. I believe they know about this. I’m not sure if they can truly trace it back to me, but I think they at least suspect. Claire, I’m going to confess.”

Her eyes sprang wide. Her sadness for Simon dwarfed in comparison to her sudden panic for Tony. “No, you can’t! They’ll arrest you—I need you.”

“Maybe I can make a deal. I’ll tell them about everything with Catherine.”

Claire’s eyes filled with tears. When she wrapped her arms around the man she loved, the moisture spilled onto his chest. It had taken them a long time to reach this destination—not the island—the place of complete honesty. Claire didn’t want to lose it.

His voice resonated through their room, dominating the impending storm and echoing thunder. “You deserve to be with a man who’s faced his past. I can’t live with the threat that any day the FBI could come and arrest me in front of you or our child.”

“Tony, don’t do anything rash. Let’s work
us
out first, please.”

Tony smirked. “Now, I bet you wish we’d have talked about this
before
we were married. Then you could still say no.”

Claire shook her head from side to side. “No, you’re wrong. That’s a bet you’d lose. You’re laying your cards on the table, and I still think I’m the one coming out a winner. When I said I’d love you—no matter what you told me—I wasn’t bluffing.”

The morning sky lit with intense lightening. As the thunder roared, the skies opened and large raindrops fell, splattering the inside of their room. Tony and Claire jumped from their bed, their bare feet rushing from open door to open door throughout the house. By the time everything was secured against the storm, they were both drenched. Claire made her way to the bathroom, her nightgown plastered against her skin and droplets falling from her soaked hair. When she was about to take off the wet gown, Claire turned toward the doorway. He hadn’t made a sound. If he had, then it had been covered by the raging storm; nevertheless, she felt his stare and knew he was there.

“I
am
sorry.” Tony’s expression matched his apologetic words. Stepping into the bathroom, he straightened his stance. Claire expected more words of regret; instead, she heard. “I wasn’t—not even when we were at the funeral. I felt bad for you—I didn’t expect you to take it that hard, and though I tried to be supportive, I’ll admit—your grief upset me.”

She stared and tried desperately to register each of his words. “
My
grief?” She asked in disbelief. “What about his mother’s?”

“What about her?”

“You shook her hand—you talked to her—she told you that Simon admired you!” Each phrase was a little louder.

“I didn’t think about it. To me, the deed was justified. I made a business deal. Deals happen all the time.”

She stood silently and contemplated her husband. “Then why do you feel sorry now?”

He moved closer. “I don’t know if I can explain this, especially to you.”

Claire glanced to the mirror. In the opulent bathroom, in the middle of paradise, they both looked like drowned rats. Near their feet the puddle grew. “Try,” she said.

“I didn’t feel
anything
before—not just about Simon—about everything. It was why business was second nature to me. It’d always been about numbers and formulas.” He wrapped his arms around her lower back. “I’m not making excuses. You want the truth—that’s it. From the time my parents died until you were with me in Iowa—I didn’t
feel
. Sometimes I wonder why anyone wants to. Not feeling was a hell of a lot easier.”

Claire stepped forward, leaning her chest and midsection against him. “It can also feel
good
to feel.”

Tony wrapped his arms around her. “You’re cold. You need to get out of this wet nightgown.”

“I probably do, but I want to know more.” She buried her face in his chest. “There was a time I did what you’re saying, a time when I didn’t feel—I just remember it being very dark.”

He tilted her chin upward. “I probably don’t need to ask what or who caused that time.”

“It’s over. I can tell you who brought me out of it.”

His eyebrow cocked in question.

Her lips touched his and she asked, “So, does that make us even?”

Tony’s shoulder’s shrugged. “I doubt it. That dark time was a lot longer for me; you had more work to accomplish—to rescue me.” His lips grazed the top of her forehead and his eyes shimmered. “Your influence went beyond my personal life.”

“Oh?”

“You probably don’t remember, but one time you asked me about something, and I told you about a company. It was one I was considering buying. You asked me how I could buy a business and close it without thinking about the people.”

Claire nodded. She had recollections of such a conversation.

“Until that moment, I’d never considered—the people.”

“What happened to that company? It was in Pennsylvania, right?”

Tony grinned. “That’s right—good memory. The company’s CEO and shareholders accepted my low-ball offer. Their major competitor, a company where I’m a major stockholder, took over their company. All forty-six employees were given the option to retain their jobs if they stayed and worked for the new company.”

“Really?” It wasn’t the answer she’d expected. She recalled him talking about closing the doors.

“Really.” He moved a strand of wet hair from her face. “Some of the employees declined and they received a severance package. The last time I looked into the data regarding that company, over seventy people were employed, and my profits were higher than projected with the original proposal.”

“What made you change your mind? Why didn’t you go with your original plan and just close the company?”

“My dear, there has only been one person who has ever made me do anything or question my beliefs, and since she has become a real, true part of my life—my world has never been the same.”

Despite their wet clothes and skin, Claire filled with pride and warmth. “So, I helped save those peoples’ jobs?”

“You didn’t help. Not one of my employees—or anyone—had ever had the nerve to question my motivation or decisions. You were the first.” His eyes shone with pride. “Claire, you didn’t
help
save their jobs—you
saved
them
.”

Her smile beamed upward. “I told you some of your confessions would upset me. That doesn’t mean I love you any less.”

Tony pulled her closer. “You need a warm shower. It sounds like the storm is slowing down. When you’re done, you can get a few more hours sleep.”

She lifted her arms. “Only if you’ll help me get out of this wet nightgown.”

Pulling her gown upward, Tony replied, “I told you before, you made a great business negotiator.” Once it was completely over her head, he kissed her lips. “You still do.”

The family you come from isn't as important as the family you're going to have
.

—Ring Lardner

Amber entered Harry’s condominium. Sitting in the living room, surrounded by stacks of papers, open file boxes, and multiple computers, she found her brother. Glancing around the cluttered room, she sighed.