At some point during the night, Tony asked Claire what she overheard. She told him. At first, she didn’t want to say anything about her looking for a sugar daddy, but why hide anything now? Tony laughed.
He was happy to learn about MaryAnn and that Courtney and Sue were so helpful throughout the day. She told Tony how much she liked seeing him in jeans. Definitely sexy, she told him. He told her he preferred her without jeans or anything else. That started them again.
Claire’s spa appointment would be the following Wednesday. Initially she didn’t want to go, but now she thought about Chicago and Tony’s apartment. “How many apartments do you have?”
“As many as I need. I don’t like hotels much.” They both drifted off to sleep.
Tony woke before his alarm. Hearing Claire’s soft and delicate breathing, he saw her curled into a ball on the far side of the bed, covered only by a sheet. With the pale light of the lingering moon he noticed her chestnut hair fanned around her head, damp and wavy, her body petite, soft, and supple. He carefully lifted the blankets and covered her. As he watched, the warmth of the blanket allowed her to unconsciously relax and settle into a deeper slumber.
This was not his plan. Things had been in the works for so long and now emotions were wreaking havoc. It was supposed to be easy. Her only purpose was for physical enjoyment, release of energy, and personal pleasure. He had watched her for so long. He told himself he deserved that. Yet somehow, now while at work, in a meeting, on a plane, anywhere, without warning he would recall something she said or did and a smile would come to his lips. Tony even noticed strange looks from Brent, a visible sign that his thoughts were revealing themselves.
This was wrong. Tony didn’t want to have feelings. The sex was great. It was okay to want her, dominate her, and control her. It was not okay to want to be with her, please her, and love her. Yet every one of his senses desired Claire. Watching her sleep, he wanted to see her emerald-green eyes that flared when she was upset with him, her neck that straightened with defiance even when her words accommodated his demands, and her body that filled his every waking thought. He wanted to touch her skin, warm, soft yet firm, and her long silky hair. He wanted to taste her. He wanted to smell her scent when he first came home, clean and fresh with her chosen perfume; and the aroma of her after sex, warm, moist, and exhausted. And he wanted to hear her. At this moment, he heard her faint breathing but he also liked to hear her endless talk. He knew she longed for companionship and camaraderie. He also knew he was currently her only choice. He tried desperately to appear uninterested, but her voice filled him with an intense desire he’d never experienced. That desire had a sexual component, but it also contained a desire to fulfill her yearnings. Tony never previously considered fulfilling someone else’s desires. His entire adult life had been about his wants, goals, ambitions, and needs.
As his mind pondered these dilemmas, he thought about her just a few feet away. He wanted her again. He knew he could wake her and she would accommodate his demands. Laying his head back on the pillow he remembered the sex they experienced and wondered when did this happen? He no longer wanted to dominate but to satisfy. This situation was completely unplanned. His entire life, business, everything was calculated, how could this happen?
He hadn’t realized until he heard himself apologize. When he entered her suite he knew what he was going to say. It wasn’t what he said. Anthony Rawlings could count on one hand the people to whom he’d apologized. Now this woman, a piece of his plan, was on that shortlist.
At the Simmonses she performed beyond his expectation. Then his overreaction almost ruined everything. Claire’s strength, standing up to him, explaining the situation, and then not complaining yet complying with his punishment touched him. But when she was relieved by his realization, instead of upset by his overreaction, she melted him.
In reflection he berated himself. He should have stayed indifferent, dominant, and in charge. The words from his past echoed in his memory, “Only the weak apologize.” He reconsidered waking her, fulfilling the indifferent domineering qualities that would prove he wasn’t weak. Then he saw her peaceful expression and thought of her giving and surrendering herself over and over. Quietly, he got out of bed, put on his trousers, and left her suite. Stepping into the corridor, he decided to work out.
There is something perverse about more than enough.
When we have more, it is never enough. It is always somewhere
out there, just out of reach. The more we acquire,
themoreelusiveenoughbecomes. —Unknown
Chapter 17
Clawson tried one more time. “It is very easy. Textiles have made you a fortune, a fortune you can now plant and invest to grow a lot more. This is 1977. The real money isn’t in creating. It is in owning and selling. See these figures?” He handed Nathaniel the reports. “You have capital not only in profit margins but also in secured retirement plans. That money is just sitting there, waiting for those employees to get old. Hell, many of them won’t be eligible for retirement for another twenty years. Use that money, invest it. Grow it. Right now, it’s just rotting away in these accounts.”
Samuel stayed quiet as long as he could. His father’s dark eyes were starting to flash dollar signs. “Clawson, the problem with your plan is that our employees own that money, not us. They’ve entrusted us to keep that money for them so it will be available when they retire. And it is growing interest.”
“With all due respect, Mr. Rawls, have you seen the interest rates? Your employees will have their money because you aren’t going to lose it. You’re growing it. Then when the day is done, they’ll have their retirement and Rawls Corp. will have additional profits.” Clawson spoke to Samuel, but hoped Nathaniel was the one listening.
He was. Nathaniel said, “Jesus, Samuel, have you looked at these reports? Where are the figures on Hong Kong Industrials? Since the exchange-trade options change of seventy-three, it’s a cake-walk to manipulate these options.” Clawson handed Nathaniel the reports. “We set our strike price. If the stock price starts to move out of the option near expiration, we set the cap.”
Clawson smiled. The old man was finally getting it. “You have the capital to do that.”
Samuel threw a report on the table. “It isn’t our capital.”