Truth

had been more than accommodating. It was Claire who suggested moving the mountains of findings to the small bedroom. She felt bad burying the dining room table with her stacks of research.
    The queen-sized bed created the perfect palate for Claire’s unique filing system. There were piles from one end to the other. In a paperless world, she’d managed to personally decimate a tree or two. The information was also saved on her laptop. Nonetheless, holding the pages in her hands, gave Claire a sense of reality. She knew from experience the internet could contain false truths. However, when she held a story, a blurb from an article, dates from public record, and pictures, in her hand – it gave them validity. The small desk contained her laptop while a dresser held the printer.
    Claire moved toward the bed and stacks of information. She wondered, could there be something in their accumulated data she’d missed? She wasn’t the only one gathering information. Harry pulled strings to get police information containing invaluable reports unavailable to the general public. Amber willingly spent hours surfing the net , back-dooring company websites. She understood the business side of their research much more than Claire.
    That being said, the depth of Claire’s business knowledge surprised them all. Apparently, the days she’d spent in Tony’s office weren’t wasted. She remembered sitting hour after hour while Tony worked, required to be at the ready, in case her services were demanded. At the time she saw it as his display of power and control over her time and body. Today, she grinned at the new perspective: those wasted days were actually educational.
    How many people receive the opportunity, to watch and listen to one of the country’s most successful entrepreneurs at work? Although she usually spent those days reading, she subconsciously listened. Perhaps, he felt she didn’t care, or couldn’t understand. Claire opted for the answer: he didn’t even consider eavesdropping. He was busy displaying his power over her schedule, the rest of the world be damned.
    She shuttered at the estimation of hours spent in that office during the nearly two years on his estate. After they were married, most of the time was voluntary. Nevertheless, she’d listened to web-conferences, webinars, and unnumbered telephone conversations. Hell, she listened to those in cars and even on his plane. Her presence never inhibited his words. Actually, she got good at recognizing the subtle changes in body language as his words remained amicable.
    When in his office and perturbed, he had a habit of rolling an old key ring in his hand. It was some old trinket he kept in the upper right hand drawer of his large desk. If Claire looked up from her book or magazine and saw the stupid ring running laps on his right hand, she knew he was upset. Yet, the person on the other end of the discussion would never know. His features and voice never wavered. They couldn’t see the tarnished silver charm or strangely shaped key being passed from one finger to the next. Claire came to know the speed at which the ring ran a lap in his large hand, was proportional to his state of agitation.
    Contemplating those memories, Claire’s stomach twisted. His unease was directly proportional to the downturn of her day. Not only did he control her comings and goings, he was the barometer for the tone of her life. If he were happy, the day could be manageable, maybe even good. If he weren’t...well, she really hated that stupid key ring.
    Her business knowledge was unrealized until she read an article about a company under investigation by the SEC, Securities Exchange Commission. Claire remembered hours of discussion about that same company. Some of the issues that, according to the article were just brought to light had actually been debated ad nauseam years before.
    Amber found her information very intriguing. After Amber pulled up more details on the company, Claire was shocked to realize she actually knew, or at least recognized, the names and faces of many prominent players. They were people Claire had been responsible for entertaining at business dinners. She’d met them, talked with them, and dined with them. Her knowledge base was much broader than she’d previously expected.
    Settling into a comfortable chair, feet on an ottoman, wrapped in her warm robe, Claire began rereading documents. Anthony was obviously surprised by the use of his name, Anton