Consequences(228)

Do not bite at the bait of pleasure, till you know there is no hook beneath it.



—Thomas Jefferson





Chapter Forty-Seven


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The dashboard in front of her looked more like something from a helicopter, dials and lights came to life. Claire tried to remain calm—telling herself driving hadn’t changed in twenty-two months. She just needed to put the car in gear and push the accelerator. Trembling at the prospect of the simplistic task, Claire almost ran into the garage door; however, she remembered to push the button, waited for the door to lift, and concentrated on breathing—slowly inhaling and exhaling. The door opened, and cautiously, she proceeded down the driveway. Claire prayed if anyone saw the car, they’d assume it was Eric. At the gates, she again pushed a button—the one she’d seen Eric push many times. At first, the gates seemed to hesitate, but then the iron fence swung wide.

Claire drove toward Highway I-80 and inhaled. It was the sweetest air she’d smelled in almost two years. The clock on the dashboard read 11:16 AM. She knew in forty-four minutes, Tony would expect her in his office. She reasoned perhaps the web conference would go long and he wouldn’t notice her absence—or maybe, the phone calls would start, and he’d be preoccupied. She knew the truth—Tony could do ten things at once. Come 12:00:01 PM he’d be irritated—by 12:15 PM—he’d be fuming. Feeling her heart beat intensify, she wondered what would happen when they reunited. What kind of punishment would he decide was appropriate for this behavior? Feeling her wet palms slide on the leather steering wheel, Claire chose not to linger on the possibilities. The Mercedes was now headed east on Highway I-80. Her mind searched for possible destinations. Courtney—no—she was out of town. Emily—no—that would be the first place Tony would check. Utilizing her therapy skills, she convinced herself this was a deserved break. She also instructed herself to relish the overpowering sensation of freedom, a feeling she hadn’t known in twenty-two months. Slowly, she felt her senses awaken: the countryside looked brighter, the leather seats emitted a stronger aroma, the wheels on the pavement created a soft hum, and the vibration responded to her movement of the wheel—it all invigorated her.

The brilliant dash indicated a full tank of gas. Silently, she thanked Eric—momentarily worrying he’d suffer because of her actions. She concentrated on the majestic world outside the windows and watched the traffic which consisted mostly of large semi-trucks. At first, this made Claire uncomfortable, but the Mercedes could weave and pass easily. Before moving to Tony’s, she drove a Honda Accord. It was a good car, but the Mercedes felt like driving a cloud. Then, the clock caught her eye, 12:11 PM. She started to wonder what was happening at home. Would he be looking for her or sending someone else to look? All Claire could do now was drive and think. She loved him, but the constant pressure was wearing on her. She just needed a break.

Taking the bypass around Davenport, she decided to go south on Highway 74, away from New York City. At 3:30 PM she passed Peoria, Illinois. The emptiness in her stomach reminded her she hadn’t stopped driving since she left the estate. She desperately needed a restroom and some food. In the distance she spotted golden arches—french fries sounded wonderful.

She hadn’t eaten fast-food in almost two years. Claire turned the wheel and eased into the McDonald’s parking lot. Contemplating her order, she realized she didn’t have money. Oh well, the restroom was free. If she had planned this excursion, she would have grabbed a coat and her purse. More than likely Tony had her ID and credit card, but for appearances, she usually had cash in her wallet.