she could rest at his apartment. He hadn’t mentioned the location or when he would return. She took a deep breath and waited while Eric moved the car through the crowded streets. In a short time the limousine idled in a line approaching the front entrance to the Trump Tower.
Eric lowered the window that separated the two compartments and gave Claire the first information on her destination. “Ms. Claire, Mr. Rawlings’s apartment is the eighty-ninth floor of Trump Tower. Security has your name and will allow you access. As you enter the main doors, walk around to the left. You will see a security desk. They will help you reach the apartment. I will park the car and bring your and Mr. Rawlings’s bags up as soon as I can. The staff of the apartment will be available to assist you once you reach the eighty-ninth floor. Do you have any questions, miss?”
“No, thank you, Eric. I will be fine.” Then she waited while he stopped the car and came around to open her door. Only having five hours sleep, Claire felt like a mouse placed in a maze. Would she be able to find the cheese?
A cool lake breeze hit her legs as she stepped from the car and proceeded into the Trump Tower. She thought about her appearance, the blouse, skirt, sophisticated heels, and hair pulled up and back. She didn’t resemble the college girl that used to roam these streets with her friends. Doors opened and the bellman nodded as she passed. She looked like she belonged in a limousine. The guard at the security desk didn’t question her as she spoke with confidence, “Hello, I am Claire Nichols. Please show me to Mr. Rawlings’s apartment.”
“Yes, Ms. Nichols, we have been expecting you. We hope your flight was enjoyable. Please follow me this way.” The guard tried his best to make small talk, but Claire’s mind lingered six years behind.
Once the elevator reached the eighty-ninth floor, Claire tipped the guard, thanked him, and entered the open door to the apartment. Immediately, a charming gentleman greeted her, “Hello, Ms. Claire, my name is Charles. I am very pleased to meet you.” He showed her to Mr. Rawlings’s room. Would she be interested in some breakfast, coffee, or anything else?
Tony’s room reminded her of his apartment in New York, more of the masculine natural colors. The shades were drawn and Claire asked Charles to open them. The room felt dark and dreary and she knew on the other side of the shades the sun shone brightly. The view as he opened the drapes took her breath away. The windows faced north toward the lake. Far above most of the city, she could stand close to the window and look down at the buildings. Just a little to the left she could see Navy Pier and out on the lake boats. The beautiful vista hypnotized her. She loved Chicago, and there it was eighty-nine stories below.
“Ms. Nichols, will you be staying or going out?”
Pulled from her trance, she knew her desire and reality differed. She and Tony hadn’t discussed her activities. “I believe I will be staying here for now, and I would like some coffee please.”
Charles returned with coffee and their luggage. If she were back in Iowa she could be on her way to her lake. Instead, she was sequestered in Tony’s apartment. She lay down on his big luxurious cold bed, covered herself with blankets, and fell asleep. When she awoke the clock said 12:30. Tony may not be back for at least five hours. If only she could contact him, find out his plans. Instead she investigated his apartment.
Not surprisingly it was magnificent and apparently took the entire eighty-ninth floor. Like his New York apartment there were floor-to-ceiling windows throughout the dwelling. She found an office that contained computers and telephones, no doubt Tony’s home office in Chicago. She opened the office door, looked around, and closed it. Under no circumstance was she permitted in his home office without him. There was no reason to believe the rules would be different here.
It occurred to Claire that perhaps Eric would be able to contact Tony and find out his expectations. Charles informed her that Eric was with Mr. Rawlings. He didn’t know when they planned to return.
Next Charles served lunch. It bore a striking resemblance to her everyday lunches in Iowa. Claire knew that there were restaurants with various delicious foods just an elevator ride away. Her