Aleatha Romig - Behind His Eyes

Anthony Rawlings continued to smile and shake hands. He listened to questions and proposals and said all the right things; however, his eyes and mind were constantly pulled to a table not terribly far away. To Claire’s credit, when Simon attempted physical contact, Tony watched her pull away. For what seemed like hours the two of them appeared engaged in a soul-searching discussion. When Claire finally returned, he scrutinized her expression. It was perfect and empty. He never realized that he’d been denied that look, until he saw it bestowed on someone else. Stoically he nodded and addressed his wife, “Mrs. Rawlings.” They had more attendees to meet, and her name was his subtle reminder of her title and her duty. She belonged to him!

Tony glanced at his watch. Claire had only been gone for eight minutes. It was the longest eight minutes he’d endured in a lifetime. The rest of the evening, she performed beyond expectation. She spoke politely and moved people along. It was her eyes: they were far away in another time and another place.

As they stepped to the curb and waited for Eric, Tony’s hand rested in the small of Claire’s back. He, too, was seeing memories—flashes of photos. He remembered pictures of Claire and Simon on the Valparaiso campus and reports of her staying in Simon’s room, or vice-versa.

When they were settled into the limousine, Tony waited. He waited for Claire to talk, to apologize, or to say anything. She didn’t. Her normally chatty demeanor was gone; instead she stared aimlessly toward the window, seemingly mesmerized by the lights of Chicago. Time didn’t register as Tony’s blood boiled. How dare Simon Johnson approach Anthony Rawlings’ wife in a public setting? Claire knew her role; it was that of the perfect companion. How many rules had she successfully broken in a matter of seconds? By leaving him and going off with Simon, she’d not fulfilled her obligation, in essence, not doing as she’d been told. She did it in public! It was public failure! Tony wondered how many tabloids would jump on this.

Finally, he spoke, “Mrs. Rawlings.” He moved closer. Their noses nearly touched when she turned to face him. “What is your name?”

It was as if his words weren’t registering. He wanted—no needed for her to understand. Tony grasped her chin, not allowing her to turn away, and repeated his question. “Your name. What is your name?”

He watched as the fire in her eyes began to burn away the fog of memories. “Tony, what are you doing?”

He held tight. “I’m asking you a question. One that you seem unable to answer.”

Claire’s neck stiffened. “My name is Claire … Claire Rawlings.”

“Please, Mrs. Rawlings, explain to me how you can be sitting with me, your husband, wearing the rings I purchased, in the limousine paid for by my hard work, and thinking about another man.”

“Tony, please let go of my face. You’re hurting me.”

Though the red seeped, he remembered his promise and released her chin; however, relinquishing her completely was out of the question. His large hand slid behind her neck, tightly holding her head, and purposely pulling the hair that dangled down her neck. Tony did not like repeating himself, and he’d already done it once since they entered the limousine. For Claire’s sake, he didn’t want to do it again. He continued, “Do I need to repeat every question, or do you think you may be able to answer at least one the first time?”

“Seeing Simon caught me off guard. I haven’t thought of or heard from him in eight years. Don’t you think that deserves some reflection?”

She gasped as his grip tightened. “No,” he growled. “I believe the past is just that. It’s done and now it’s time to concentrate on the present.” He stared at the fire that now burnt out of control as the car’s cabin filled with his pent-up rage. How dare she be thinking about another man! He spoke slowly and deliberately, wanting to give her the chance to hear every word. Anthony Rawlings would not repeat himself again. “At present, I believe you need to concentrate on showing me that my wife is first and foremost concerned with pleasing her husband.”

With their eyes still locked, Tony reached for the button to close the window between them and Eric. Claire didn’t look away until she noticed his next move. With the hand not holding his wife’s neck, Tony unzipped the slacks of his tuxedo. He wasn’t truly thinking—he was reacting. That didn’t matter. When Claire began to protest, he trumped her. Physically she was no match for him, and the idea that she’d attempt to push herself away may have been comical if it hadn’t fueled his rage. Tony seized her hand and twisted it back. Holding her neck, he rested his head against the leather seat, entwined his fingers in her hair and directed her movement. It didn’t take her long to remember how to follow his number-one rule. Not all demands required audible words. He’d trained her well.

Before they left the limousine, Tony told Claire to fix her makeup; there would be people in the building where they were about to enter. The world didn’t need to know that his wife needed a refresher course on appropriate behavior. Dutifully, Claire appeared composed as they walked through Trump Tower’s lobby, yet when he gently put his arm around her waist, she tensed. It was enough insubordination to tell Tony that Claire’s lessons were not complete. He leaned close and whispered, “I have more ways you can demonstrate your devotion, Mrs. Rawlings. We’ll review when we reach our apartment.”

* * *

Tony woke during the night. They’d be heading to Iowa in the morning, yet his head pounded with the memories of Simon Johnson. Once they were back to the apartment, Claire had done her best to show her devotion. Tony reminded himself that she wouldn’t have misbehaved if Simon had not approached her. That didn’t absolve her of her inappropriate behavior. He planned to remind her about her duties, again, once they returned to the estate. A breach like what occurred couldn’t be repeated. Perhaps she needed some time alone at the estate, showing her devotion to her husband, instead of out with friends or communicating with her sister. Perhaps that would help to reinforce his stance. After all, he couldn’t tolerate public failure.

Claire’s consequences weren’t enough to quell Tony’s fury. Simon Johnson was also guilty. He’d had the audacity to approach Tony’s wife in a public forum. Tony slipped from their bed and made his way to his apartment office where he pulled out his private laptop.

He began to search Simon Johnson. The man had made quite a success of himself. He was founder of a gaming company in Palo Alto, California, called SiJo Gaming. Though not as wealthy as Tony, he was doing very well. It seemed as though he’d left Shedis-tics, a Rawlings subsidiary, years before. If he still worked under the Rawlings umbrella, Tony thought he could influence Johnson through business. After all, Tony had done it before; however, this was different. Johnson’s success made him a potential threat. Tony wanted Claire totally dependent upon him. He couldn’t allow there to be an ex-boyfriend with the financial means to help Claire if she asked. By the way Johnson looked at her, and she at him, that wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility.

If business intervention weren’t possible, Tony needed to look elsewhere. In an unnamed file, he found the cell phone number he sought.

The way he looked at it, it was a business decision. Claire’s behavior reflected upon him; he had a reputation to uphold. He’d invested a lot of time and money into his wife. As with anything else in business, he evaluated the facts. Positives were accentuated and negatives needed to be eliminated. If an adversary was identified, it became a liability. Liabilities can hinder the projected outcome—and needed to be removed.

Admittedly, this was different than any other call he’d authorized. Simon Johnson was not on Nathaniel’s list. That didn’t mean that Tony couldn’t justify his decision.

Claire was on his list, and as long as she performed well and personified a Rawlings, Tony was doing his part to rid the world of a Nichols—a child of a child. When she failed, when she exhibited her independence and innate strength in a non-Rawlings matter, she reminded Tony that he’d failed to directly, fully fulfill Nathaniel’s directive. In order to avoid this type of a failure in the future, ridding the world of Simon Johnson would work to assure Claire’s success. He was helping her.

After the short call, Tony made his way back to their bed. He felt a slight twinge of his conscience when he found Claire sleeping on her edge of the massive mattress. It was how she used to sleep when he first brought her to the estate. He wanted to pull her close and apologize for some of his earlier behavior, but that wouldn’t teach her the lesson he needed her to learn. It would only show weakness, and that wasn’t acceptable.

When they returned to the estate, Claire’s disobedience would result in new rules, and her recently earned liberties would need to be reevaluated. It only made sense: actions had consequences. Nevertheless, by the time he slid under the covers, the sound of Claire’s soft breathing and the knowledge of his call dissipated the last hues of red. With a renewed sense of calm, Tony drifted off to sleep.

If a relationship is to evolve, it must go through a series of endings.

—Lisa Moriyama

Tony paced the length of his office. Although his decision was set, he couldn’t shake the conflicted feeling that nagged deep inside of him. He told himself that this was a test—only a test. He’d presented Claire with more tests than he could count, and when she passed this one, everything could continue as it had been. Would she pass? Tony knew in his heart that this wasn’t the same as other tests he’d created; this was bigger and potentially life changing. It wasn’t a test: it was her final examination—the fulfillment of a personal deal he’d made a lifetime ago. It started out as an idea, a seed, and like things do, it grew.

Twenty-two months ago, when he brought Claire to his home, Tony didn’t know what to expect. He never in a million years planned to have feelings for her—she was the enemy, a Nichols. In hindsight, Catherine had seen and warned him. She knew his interest in Claire was more than that of curiosity. That being said, Tony fought those feelings with all he had. He’d never admit it to anyone, but in a significant way, Claire was his biggest success and his biggest failure. He’d brought her to Iowa to pay the penance of her family’s sins, but during her sentence she’d won him over. Oh, he’d changed her, but she’d changed him, too. He was no longer her warden but her husband. In essence, she’d derailed his plans.

Unlike any other failure, and he’d had very few, Tony didn’t mind. He enjoyed her—more than enjoyed, he craved her. She fulfilled a part of him he’d never known existed, yet despite all the ways he’d changed her, he knew that she was still a Nichols. She acted, dressed, and looked different, but was it real? After all, deep down, she was still the same woman who he’d acquired. It was a reality he couldn’t shake. Maybe it was the way the subject snuck into conversations. Catherine would say something like, I saw the photos of the two of you in the magazine. Claire is doing so well, and you two truly make a handsome couple. Sometimes I forget that she’s a Nichols.

It would be at times like that when Tony would remember the little seed that had been planted decades ago—the seed which grew tall and deep and reminded him that a Nichols helped to condemn his grandfather to twenty-two months in prison. That time period resonated in Tony’s psyche. Twenty-two months—the length of time that Nathaniel Rawls lost to the state of New York for sins that were saddled on him by Sherman Nichols and Jonathon Burke. With that time period in mind, Claire’s sentence was almost up. Originally, it had been the time period Tony had hoped to keep Claire. He and Catherine had even discussed what would happen to her once it was all over.

Since the very beginning, Catherine had reminded him that Tony needed to stay cognizant of his public persona. If Claire failed, Tony needed to be prepared to distance himself. If he couldn’t, there was only one option. That option may have been viable two years ago, but it wasn’t something Tony would entertain now. Claire’s accident had been too traumatic. He refused to consider her enduring anything worse; nevertheless, the groundwork had been laid for the option of public disgrace.