Truth

Claire stared. Her stomach twisted with the realization, he’d asked the same question twice. It was another of his old pet-peeves. As much as she didn’t want to allow him entry, she didn’t want risk him asking her a third time. She stood back and nodded. He walked in and surveyed his surroundings with an air of approval.
    “ My, Claire, you are living much better than I expected. When I first learned of your release, I pictured you destitute.”
    “ I’m sure you enjoyed that scenario. I’m sorry to disappoint.”
    He snickered, “Disappoint? On the contrary, your ingenuity is to be praised.”
    Still standing on the marbled floored entry, Claire asked her question, again. “Tony, I will repeat myself, at the risk of being redundant.” She could sense the increased intensity in his stare. “Why are you here and how did you access my floor.”
    “ I gained access by the security guard on the first floor. He tried to call you, but you didn’t answer.” Claire thought about that unknown number. She needed to program Security into her phone. “I explained, we are old friends, I’m leaving town, and since I had recently talked with you, I knew you were home and expecting me.”
    As he spoke her iPhone rang. It was the unknown number again. “This is security. I’ll tell them I don’t want you here, unless you quickly tell me why you’re here.” The phone rang again.
    Rarely, if ever, did Anthony Rawlings receive an ultimatum. Now faced with one, he didn’t anger or hesitate, he answered, “I want to know more about your prison delivery.”
    She eyed him, more assessment: honesty. Apparently the conversation wasn’t closed the night before, only tabled until today. After the fourth ring, she brushed the screen and answered. “Hello.” “Yes, this is Ms. Nichols.” “Yes, he did.” “Thank you.” “Yes. I will. Good-bye.” Tony watched intently as she spoke. She had the sensation of a bird, being evaluated by a cat. Should she fly away, had she just thrown away her only chance of ejecting him from her home, or would she be consumed by a power greater than she could manage?
    After her conversation with security ended, she turned back to her guest , “I have plans today. Please make this quick.”
    His eyes scanned up and down her petite form. “Yes, I see you are dressed for business. What do they call that, business casual ?” The vulnerability of her light weight pants and top made her uneasy. Refusing to take his snide bait, Claire remained silent. His tone turned sultry, “I’m not complaining. I always found the casual Claire as sexy as the one who rocked designer dresses.”
     
     

 
     
     
    Dreaming or awake, we perceive only events that have meaning to us.
- Jane Roberts
     
    Chapter 18
     
    Claire looked up into the sparkling velvety brown eyes. Damn, she’d been seeing those same eyes and that Cheshire expression all night long. Crossing her arms over her breasts, she exhaled, “Please, I have lunch plans, and I’d like to change. Question what you want and go.”
    “ Do you only entertain in the entry, or may we sit?”
    His gentlemanly tone was difficult to resist. “We may sit.” She led him to the living room. As they sat, him on the sofa and her in a chair, she added, “I know you enjoy coffee, I’d offer you some. But, the last time I got you coffee, it didn’t work out so well for me.”
    Tony smirked, “God, Claire you’re something else. I can’t imagine anyone else joking about that.”
    “ Well, see, you misinterpreted. I wasn’t joking. I’m actually still pissed as hell.” This wasn’t something she could have said while they were married. And definitely not something she would have said in a restaurant, even a restaurant devoid of other patrons. Some details of their life could only be discussed in private. His rules regarding privacy and appearance were as ingrained as punctuality.
    “ Good for you.” He leaned toward her, his eyes devouring her entirely, until she questioned her own presence. “Your ability to admit your displeasure is refreshing. It encourages me to be honest, too.”
    Claire did her best to glare, “Honesty. That would be a refreshing change.”
    His expression remained soft and so were his words, “You should know ...I am sorry.”
    The world as Claire knew it, shifted. Perhaps it was an earthquake, they do happen in California. Why couldn’t he be domineering or abrasive? That she could resist. But, apologetic,