Consequences (Consequences #1) - Aleatha Romig Page 0,147

Calling upon her courage and strength, she pulled. Through the darkness and into the cavernous depth, she saw it—silver with black buttons. The remote was there, available to her. Emotions swept through her: relief, she was getting the chance she requested. Happiness, he was trusting her. Sadness, she couldn’t touch it. Fear, would he catch her? She listened for the sound of footsteps, or worse doors opening. The only sound came from the fireplace. Claire carefully closed the drawer, walked back to the sofa, and collapsed onto the soft cushions. The flames flickered as the scene melted before her moistening eyes. She pulled her knees into her chest and watched the blaze before her. Fear and sadness pushed relief and happiness away. Summoning the happiness she told herself this was a good thing and attempted to regain her composure before she left his suite.

About a week later she sat perched on a high stool with her Gucci heeled boots teetering on a wooden rod, listening to her friend’s voice, more evidence of progress. Claire loved Courtney’s company. She could talk enough for the both of them, making Claire laugh in the process. Today she was talking about the Red Cross, the amazing job it did responding to natural disasters and helping the citizens of Iowa and the United States. She explained the financial problems facing the Red Cross with donations decreasing and needs increasing. Courtney was the fund-raising chairman for the Quad City Chapter. She asked for Claire’s help with her committee, believing that they had an advantage of knowing individuals and businesses that were surviving the economic slowdown. They could use those connections to help raise money. She asked Claire which fund-raisers she thought would be most profitable. They discussed the pros and cons of an auction, banquet, sports tournament, or raffle. There were so many possibilities. Courtney wanted to exceed last year’s goal.

The pub where they sat was electric with energy. Located on the University of Iowa’s campus, its tables overflowed mostly with students coming and going. The hum of voices combined with the sound of moving chairs caused Claire’s toes to move with excitement. She hadn’t been around this many people in so long. She wanted to absorb all the vitality. Claire told Courtney that with a degree in meteorology the idea of assisting with a charity that aided with the disasters she used to forecast appealed to her.

Courtney gave her a folder of information. It contained a calendar with scheduled committee meetings and a list of committee members’ names, e-mail addresses, and telephone numbers. As Claire ate her salad she scanned the contents. This volunteering would be more time consuming than she’d realized. That was great. Of course, she knew she would need to run it all by Tony. But how would it appear if Mrs. Anthony Rawlings wasn’t willing to help charities? Besides, he had allowed this outing knowing that Courtney wanted Claire’s help, more evidence.

Courtney stood to get them both some coffee and Claire looked around the restaurant. She couldn’t believe her exhilaration at being out with a friend. Between Courtney and the surroundings she felt like her chest would pop. The people at the other tables looked so carefree. They probably took their freedoms for granted, Claire knew she used to. Exhaling, she thought about her husband. He was trying to consider her requests. She smiled as she remembered him telling her to call Courtney.

Everything seemed normal as he entered her suite and talked about his day. It was as he entered the bathroom for a shower that his words stunned her. “Claire, I almost forgot, Courtney would like you to call her. My iPhone is on the bookcase. Her number is in the address book under Courtney S., help yourself.” Then he turned and closed the door. Claire stared. Was it really him? The other times she called from any phone, he’d dialed. She worried that maybe she had imagined the whole scene.

Her legs wobbled as she walked toward his iPhone. Slowly, she picked it up and went through the address book. She scrolled until she saw Courtney S. There were many names, she continued to scroll and saw Emily V., John V., and John V. home. She scrolled back to Courtney S. and hit the dial icon. The screen indicated that the call was in progress. It didn’t last long and Claire believed her clammy hands and shaking knees couldn’t be detected on the other end. Most excitedly she’d made a

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