Consequences(18)

“PICK ME UP AT BUDGET RENTAL, TEN MINUTES.”

Anthony didn’t like doing all these tasks himself. Under different circumstances, he would hire someone to box the items, or wait for the movers. This—however—wasn’t normal circumstances. He couldn’t risk others knowing his plan. He couldn’t even trust his best friend and head of his legal team. This was all very private.

Eric, Anthony’s driver, had some clue about things transpiring in Atlanta. Truthfully, he had more than a clue. He helped transport Claire back to Iowa; however, Eric’s allegiance was steadfast, as was the rest of his household staff.

Sighing as he parked the inconspicuous gray Toyota Camry in the lot of Budget Rent-A-Car, he thanked God this was done. Now to change into his kind of clothes, get back to his real life, prepare for his scheduled meetings overseas—and decide Claire’s future.

He flashed a private smile—the acquisition was complete.





Through humor, you can soften some of the worst blows that life delivers. And once you find laughter, no matter how painful your situation might be, you can survive it.



—Bill Cosby





Chapter Four


?


Multiple times a day, she would think of her chance meeting with Anthony Rawlings. She believed his name sounded familiar, but didn’t and still doesn’t know why. God, she would love to put his name in Google and see what popped up; maybe Crazy Abusive Man or Nut Job with a Supremacy Complex?

She recalled that one day, while tending bar, they started to talk, not about anything particular, just chat. He was attentive and charming. His eyes mesmerized her, not with fear as they did now, more of a pull, an attraction. Her policy was not to see patrons socially, yet for some reason, when Anthony invited her to a small booth after her shift, she accepted. In hindsight, Claire believed she was safe, still being in the Red Wing. Once there, they continued talking and drank some wine. At some point, he had a napkin and talked about helping her obtain a job. It was something about the Weather Channel—definitely not this. She remembered signing the napkin but couldn’t recall him signing it. The entire scenario seemed harmless. She couldn’t remember what was written on the napkin. It was never discussed again as they shared a few more glasses of Cabernet Sauvignon.

After that, she went home—alone.

The next day she slept in, shopped for groceries, which now sat rotting in her refrigerator, and worked the closing shift. Had she known it was her last full day of freedom, she would have spent it in a more productive manner: visiting with friends, enjoying a crowd at the mall, or calling her sister. Claire wondered if Anthony returned to the bar that day. She didn’t think so, but she did remember his call that evening…

*

—About a week ago—March 16—

The call surprised Claire. After their talk the night before and her refusal to see him for food, she never expected to hear from him again, yet the call came as the seats around the bar were beginning to fill. Her boss didn’t appreciate personal calls at slow times of the day, much less during busy times. “Hello, this is Claire. May I help you?”

“Good evening, Claire.” Her heart skipped a beat, immediately recognizing the deep, husky voice that accompanied the handsome, dark-haired, dark-eyed man.

“Anthony?”

First a chuckle, then, “I’m impressed. You have a wonderful memory for voices.”


Well, yeah, when they accompany people like you. “Thank you, I talk with people for a living. I’m surprised you called. Did you forget or leave something?”