Consequences(41)

Eric opened the door. Claire gently swung her legs outside the car and put on her mask. It was the mask of the beautiful face she’d seen smiling back at her in the bathroom mirror earlier that evening. Her movements flowed gracefully and her smile never waned. She diligently followed everyone’s advice.

Anthony exited the car, nodded with a handsome smile to the crowd, and gently placed his hand in the small of Claire’s back. Her nervousness changed to exhilaration as they advanced through the crowd and into the theater. Waiting inside the doors was a man who enthusiastically greeted Mr. Rawlings and escorted them upstairs to a private room. Once there, the reporters were gone, but the people remaining were equally anxious to speak with Anthony Rawlings.


As they mingled, Anthony took two crystal flutes of champagne and handed one to Claire. His voice sounded different—chatty—as he greeted and was greeted by different people. He graciously introduced his companion, Claire Nichols, to the individuals and couples they encountered. Claire smiled politely, shook hands, and made small talk. Claire watched the man she’d come to know; he seemed so different. Many people wanted to talk to him, and he knew all their names. After so much time alone, his social skills captivated her.

After the lights flashed, he gently touched her elbow and led her to their seats. They stepped through the black curtain where Claire could see the entire theater. Anthony had directed her to a private box above and to the right of the stage. They sat and she beheld the magnificent view, ornate walls, crowds of nicely dressed people, and beautiful velvet curtain. Too quickly, the auditorium darkened and the spotlight hit the stage.

A woman with a German accent began to speak, “Before we begin tonight’s performance, I would like to thank everyone for their attendance. I would like to ask you, the audience, to join us at the Quad City Symphony in thanking the one man who made this evening’s performance, as well as future performances, possible, Mr. Anthony Rawlings.”

Suddenly, the spotlight shone directly into their box. The crowd erupted in applause and a standing ovation. Claire watched as Anthony stood and acknowledged the gratitude with a dashing smile and a wave. He sat back down, and with the light still on them, leaned over and took Claire’s hand. She smiled at him; his eyes were so light. The spotlight turned off and the symphony began.

They hardly spoke during the entire performance other than to comment on a musical piece. When not occupied with applauding, Anthony’s hand continued to gently hold Claire’s. The entire concert ended too soon. The lights came up and they stood to go. Whispering in his ear Claire thanked him again. It was more than she could have imagined. He smiled, gently placed his hand in the small of her back, and led her through the crowd to the foyer. Once outside, Eric opened the door of the waiting car and Anthony assisted Claire as she entered the limousine.

The stark contrast in volume left Claire’s ears ringing as the limousine pulled away from the curb. Her mind swirled with thoughts, the evening was wonderful—music, champagne, people, theater, everything. They were riding for a few minutes when she realized Anthony hadn’t spoken since they entered the limousine. Her heart rate increased as she contemplated the possibility he was upset. She told herself he couldn’t be. She did everything everyone told her to do. She kept up appearances and let him do most of the talking. She felt his eyes upon her, but was afraid to turn and face them. The ringing in her ears turned to silence—completely devoid of sound—silence. She adjusted her new mask and turned. “That was a magnificent evening, thank you again.”

“Do you really think so?”

She wondered if he was asking about the symphony or her. “I do. The music was performed beautifully and you were right about the conductor.” Her pulse quickened, unable to take the suspense any longer, she asked, “Did I do all right?”