Consequences (10 page)

By the time she closed the door her internal monologue was in full gear.
He
actually
hit
me
with
his
belt!
My
god!
The
man
is
mad.
I
have
to
find
a
way
out
of
here!

At that moment, she didn’t search for an escape. Instead, she showered, redid her hair, her makeup, and put on another outfit. While she
cleaned
herself
up
she contemplated fleeing. Questions arose. Where would she go? How would she get there? How far to civilization? And what were her chances of success? And most importantly, if she failed, what would he do?

Her lunch arrived. Even though she missed breakfast she barely ate. She sat quietly on the sofa, read a book, stared into space, and waited for instructions. A feeling of helplessness settled into her chest like nothing she’d ever known.

About four thirty, the beep sounded, the door opened, and she dutifully obeyed. His demeanor, less malicious than before, seemed merely callous. The forbearance of the early morning and the tour were gone. Anthony had a goal for his actions. Claire needed to understand who was in control. She had done this to herself, he told her. She needed to do what she was told. But did she? No. He made her say, “No, I didn’t do what I was told.” And behaviors have consequences. Could she remember that? “Yes, I understand behaviors have consequences.”

That evening they didn’t dress appropriately for dinner in Claire’s suite. Anthony decided he wanted her to model some of the lingerie. Dinner was eaten while wearing a flowing black silk negligee.

Every time she thought he was done and would leave, he regrouped. Maybe a drink of water or check the messages on his iPhone, then he resumed. The violence ended, but the domination continued. Claire wanted to scream. But she didn’t. The more she obeyed, the less ruthless his instructions. After midnight, Anthony left her suite. He didn’t say whether her door would be unlocked in the morning, and she couldn’t remember if she heard the familiar beep. She wanted to check, but her body barely moved. Instead, she closed her eyes and went to sleep.

Human
beings,
by
changing
the
inner
attitudes
of
their
minds,
can
change
the
outer
aspects
of
their
lives.

—William James

 Chapter 6

Her eyes didn’t open until she heard the door and her breakfast arrive. It usually came after she awoke. Looking at the clock, she saw that it was 10:30, the latest she’d slept since her initial arrival. The young lady with the food apologized. “I am sorry, Ms. Claire. I know you were still asleep, but Mr. Rawlings would like you dressed and in his office by noon. Catherine said you need to eat.” She handed Claire her robe as she got out of the bed.

“Is Mr. Rawlings working from home again today?” Claire’s head pounded and body ached. This was way too late for coffee, and perhaps the activities of yesterday were affecting her.

“Miss, today is Sunday. Mr. Rawlings is usually home on Sundays.” The young lady left the suite. Claire made a mental note:
Watch
out
for
Sundays.

Timidly, Claire approached the mirrors in the bathroom. Lowering the soft robe, she saw long red stripes on her back and new bruises. She didn’t cry. She steamed with anger. Of course, it was directed toward
him
but also at herself. She wanted this nightmare to end, but she couldn’t figure out the solution. Helplessness was not an emotion Claire was accustomed to feeling, and she didn’t like it. Her only solution was to remain resolute until an opportunity arose.

At eleven fifty-seven, Claire knocked on Anthony’s office door. The door opened, and he looked up from his desk. “Good afternoon, Claire.”

Smiling respectfully, she said, “Good
morning
, Anthony, I believe it is still morning.” She looked at his eyes and wondered who he would be today.

Claire walked into his office and stood before his desk, the same place that twenty-four hours earlier had been the terrifying scene of his rage and domination. She stood with her back straight, chin high, and smile plastered on her lips. The blouse she chose and her makeup covered the visible signs of the prior day’s happenings. Anthony sat quietly and studied her. The silence made her uncomfortable. She prayed he couldn’t hear her heart beating too fast or notice her wet palms. Long ago, she learned that awkward silences were an interview technique. She wouldn’t be the one to break the silence.

Finally, “I believe you are correct, for another two minutes.” Anthony’s eyes seemed lighter. Claire breathed easier and smiled. She was on time.

“Lunch will arrive here in a few minutes. I thought we would discuss some of the glitches that our business deal has encountered.” He stood and moved toward Claire. She kept her ground, neck straight, and watched as he circled the grand desk. He stopped only inches away. She could smell his fragrant cologne and needed to tilt her neck upward to see his face. He didn’t speak but indicated with a gesture that they move to the conference table, where he pulled out a chair for her to sit; she did. He sat at the head of the table with Claire to his right. The room was silent as Claire thought to herself how his
gentlemanly
behaviors were such a farce.

“Glitches? I am not sure what you are referring to.”

Before responding, he sat back and contemplated Claire Nichols. Her eyes contained an intense fire, and she possessed more daring than half of the presidents of his many companies. After what he put her through, he couldn’t help but be astounded. “I wasn’t sure you would come here today.”

“I wasn’t aware I had a choice. I believe my job duties include doing as I am told.”

“That is correct. Perhaps you can be trained.” He chose his words carefully.

Claire’s mouth twitched, but she stayed steady. Getting upset would only accomplish losing control and giving it to him. He may take it, but by god, she wasn’t giving it. “I am trying my best. Now glitches?”

A knock came as the door opened and their lunch arrived. They sat in silence as the young lady placed their food in front of them and asked Mr. Rawlings if they needed anything else. He informed her they were currently fine. She retreated from the office and closed the door behind her.

“Glitches, yes. I spent $215,000 for a business deal. I make deals that will be lucrative to me. I expected a better return for my money than I have experienced in the last three weeks.”

If this was supposed to shock Claire, it didn’t. She casually picked up her fork, ate a piece of broccoli, and responded, “I would believe that yesterday you successfully increased your return.” And stabbing another piece of broccoli, she added, “Besides, wasn’t it you that decided your business holding would be locked away for almost two weeks?” She ate more broccoli. Part of her feared retaliation, but the other part believed he appreciated the bravado.

“That is true. I am considering the possibility that it was worth it, after what I am currently witnessing.” He watched her expression as he spoke. “And we have no deadline for completion of our contractual agreement.”

Claire didn’t know if she should be happy that he seemed impressed, and she did think an estimated timeline would be nice, but she didn’t mention that either. Instead, she said, “Then apparently, the glitches have been resolved.”

Claire felt she appeared respectful enough to avoid confrontation but impertinent enough to demonstrate resilience. She saw the light brown gleam around his irises, somehow knowing he wouldn’t explode. She would learn to read him. They continued to eat.

Claire let Anthony do most of the talking. He discussed more of the
house
rules
. She could roam the house. However, in anticipation of more glitches, she was not permitted to go outside or consider leaving the property. His office and the corridor of his suite were off-limits. Her schedule would be hers for most of the day, unless told otherwise by him or Catherine. He didn’t work from home that often, but when he did she would be required to be nearby and available at all times. On days he went to the office his only requirement would be that Claire be back in her suite by 5:00 p.m. to receive evening instructions. He was a very busy man and wouldn’t be home every evening to dine with her. However, on the nights he intended to be home she would receive instructions for time of dinner, apparel, and other plans he may have. If he were in town, she would receive instructions as to his intentions regarding visiting her suite and the estimated time of his arrival. She verbally responded to all of his rules.

The young lady with the food came back to clear the dishes and brought a carafe of coffee with two cups. Claire’s headache was improving with food but the coffee would be helpful. Anthony told her that he and Ms. Claire would be having coffee on the sunporch. She thanked him and left with the coffee. Claire didn’t remember a sunporch from the tour.

She walked beside Anthony as they left the office. Located in the rear of the main section, through the archways behind the grand stairs, and past the sitting room, they stepped down into a room made completely of glass. Claire felt faint as her eyes adjusted to the sunshine and she inhaled the fresh spring air. The room was decorated with brightly cushioned rattan furniture as well as tropical plants. Anthony sat on a loveseat and Claire on a chair. The sides of the room opened to allow a cool fresh breeze. Her bogus composure disappeared as the sensation of the fresh spring air blew her hair and she listened to the faint sounds of nature.

When she was a child, her dad, a policeman in Indianapolis, knew how much Claire loved the outdoors. Each spring he would take her to one of the many state parks. They would spend the weekend together hiking, fishing, talking, and wandering. Her grandfather, his father, had been FBI. It was ingrained in them to be cautious. On those weekends he let Claire believe she had control over their plans and the direction of their adventures. Remembering their activities she smiled, knowing he did most of the steering and all of the protecting. The aroma of the fresh spring air brought the memories of those adventures soaring back to Claire’s consciousness.

Just off to the side of the sunporch she saw a large pool. The water was covered with a large tarp, furniture was absent from the deck, and fountains were nonoperational. Though not in season, it definitely had potential for a wonderful place to spend her
Claire
time
once the weather warmed.

As they sat and sipped warm coffee with a cool breeze, Anthony informed Claire that he would be leaving for three days on a business trip. His businesses were all over and traveling was an important part of his work. He would leave later in the afternoon as his meetings were scheduled to begin very early in the morning. He planned to be home Wednesday evening. She would be informed if his plans changed. “Anthony, what do you do?”

“Do you truly not know who I am?”

It frightened her to bruise his ego but erring on honesty was always best. “I’m sorry if I should, but I don’t. I thought at first that your name sounded familiar, Anthony Rawlings, but I have tried for over two weeks, and I admit I don’t know.”

He leaned back on the loveseat and offered a brief synopsis of himself. He called himself a businessman who had built his fortune from nothing. The beginning of and bulk of his success came with the Internet, he and a friend created one of the first Internet search engines. He later bought out his friend’s part of the company, had diversified his holdings, and has done pretty well.

Claire chuckled. “You made your fortune, because
this
,” looking around the expanse of his mansion, “is more than doing pretty well, with the Internet? And the only technology in your home is in your office?”

“Perhaps I want my home to be an oasis from my business life.”