Truth

understood the conversation was done; he was happy with her honesty. Each such behavior helped her figurative chess king live one more day.
    When the couple from Shedis-tics finally arrived, Tony gallantly proceeded, “Mr. and Mrs. Cunningham, it is always a pleasure.”
    Roger Cunningham replied, “Mr. Rawlings.”
    Tony continued, “Ms. Nichols tells me you have met?”
    Claire wasn’t sure, but the Cunninghams appeared embarrassed or apprehensive about their earlier meeting. She joined the conversation, extending her hand, “Yes,” she smiled pleasantly at both of them, “I was so lost in that large room. I appreciated your friendly greeting.”
    The Cunninghams visibly relaxed with her comment. Mrs. Cunningham spoke, “Ms. Nichols, it was a pleasure to meet you. I’m sure this collaboration between Shedis-tics and SiJo will be beneficial.”
    Claire continued, her mask intact, “I’m sure you’re aware, it goes way back. Mr. Rawlings gave Simon his first opportunity in Silicon Valley with his dream job at Shedis-tics. Simon Johnson never forgot where he started and enjoyed the allegiance between the two companies.”
    Mr. Cunningham replied, “It’s easy to forget the origins of our companies. Thank you for reminding us. I’m sure Mr. Johnson would be happy that the allegiance has remained.” Claire radiated confidence. Her never wavering smile successfully hid the contained emotions she successfully compartmentalized away. Mr. Cunningham indicated the man to his left. “Mr. Rawlings, Ms. Nichols, this is our promising new associate Derek Burke.”
    Everyone shook hands. Claire evaluated Derek Burke: tall, polished, and polite. He approached Tony with an honest reverence yet with enough self-confidence to indicate he deserved the praise bestowed upon him. There were so many people who blabbered incoherently in Tony’s presence. Claire assessed Tony must also be impressed by Derek’s poise because they conversed longer than Tony usually did with one person. Unfortunately, his attention toward this new associate left Claire, once again, at the disposal of Mr. and Mrs. Cunningham. Their friendly greeting earlier in the waiting room turned to gushing compliments about Claire’s attire and the gala. More incoherent babbling , Claire thought.
    Eventually, the next set of attendees made their way to Claire and Tony. When dinner was announced, Claire was relieved beyond words. She’d played her role well -- very well. Even Tony complimented her regarding the Shedis-tics couple. Nevertheless, her body ached from standing in high heels and the stress. The act of sitting was a welcome relief.
    At one point, before the speeches, Claire excused herself to visit the ladies room. She expected a warning glance or gesture. Surprisingly, she received neither. All the way to the restroom she considered borrowing someone’s cellphone and calling Harry. The problem was -- she didn’t know his number. She called it multiple times a day. But, the number was programmed into her phone. After racking her memory, she gave up and made her way back to her new assigned seat.
    On her way to Tony, she passed the round table where she should have been sitting. Claire noticed three empty seats. It was the only table within the large room with so many vacancies. The Cunninghams, Derek Burke and another couple were politely chatting. Claire moved quickly, to avoid another conversation with Hilary Cunningham.
     
    *****
     
    Sophia believed she’d suffocate if she spent another minute in the beautiful sitting room of the Saint Regis’ Presidential Suite waiting for the mystery buyer. Walking through French doors onto a balcony she observed the lights of the Golden Gate Bridge. Although almost the end of May, the evening air was brisk against her exposed skin. Mindlessly she wrapped her arms around her chest and dissected the view, as only an artist can do. The towers glowed more orange than gold, she thought as she as she viewed the illumination from Route One.
    She stood motionless at the rail and inhaled the salty air. It wasn’t the same as Provincetown. There was something about Provincetown Harbor which was unique from San Francisco Bay. Nevertheless, closing her eyes and listening to the distant rush of waves, the similarities made her homesick. She glanced at her watch, almost nine thirty.
    She and Mr. George had been in this suite both alone and with Mr. Hensley for an hour and a half. Though she’d communicated