He waited patiently. The carriage steadily moved through the cold crisp air. She saw her breath as she looked at her hand and at Tony. She thought about his patience as she healed from her injuries, about him risking public exposure with Dr. Leonard, about how he made her feel when she saw him walk into a room. Her contemplation took a while. They sat back in the carriage. She rested her head on his shoulder and thought. He didn’t say a word, he didn’t push. He held her hand.
She could decide to leave and do what? Go back to Atlanta. Did she still have an apartment? He waited. There was a side of him that frightened her, but the idea of living without him frightened her more. She needed him. He told her that. Most importantly, she loved him, she really did. Sometime during the last eight months he’d become her everything. She couldn’t imagine life without him. Finally, she answered, “God help me, yes. Tony, I will marry you. I love you too.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her tenderly. She laid her head back on his shoulder as the carriage continued through the park. Claire looked again at her left hand.
“If you don’t like the ring we can look at others. It is from Tiffany’s. We can go Friday and exchange it.”
“Oh no! I love the ring. Besides, you chose it. It is exquisite. I am just so surprised.” She thought of something. “Does Catherine know you were planning this?”
Tony said she suspected, but he hadn’t told anyone. He didn’t know her response. “I never go into a meeting that I don’t know the outcome of. I am always prepared for every situation. Tonight I wasn’t sure. You asked about your debt being paid a few months ago. I thought that perhaps you would take that option.” He leaned down to kiss her hair. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you didn’t. I know Catherine will be too.”
When the carriage arrived back at Seventh Avenue, Eric had the limousine warm and waiting. As Tony helped Claire down from the carriage and led her to the car, he told Eric, “My fiancée and I are ready to go back to the apartment.”
“Yes, sir. Congratulations, Mr. Rawlings, and to you too, Ms. Claire.”
That night after some of the most wonderful lovemaking Claire ever experienced, she began to consider the fact that she was getting married and that meant a wedding. “I don’t know how to plan a wedding to someone like you.”
“Someone like me?”
“You know what I mean. This isn’t your everyday Indiana or Iowa wedding. You are Anthony Rawlings. We can’t go to dinner without photographers. A wedding will be a national spectator event.”
He chuckled. “My dear, that is what wedding coordinators and planners are for. We will hire the best. They will assist in everything.” That made her feel better. She wondered if the wedding was a catastrophe, wouldn’t that be a public failure? “By the way, how do you feel about a Christmas wedding?”
Her mind went into overdrive. “Christmas? As in four weeks from Friday?”
“I can’t wait any longer than that to have you be my wife, Mrs. Anthony Rawlings.”
She knew from experience his mind was made up. With queasiness deep in the pit of her stomach, she said, “I feel that you must hire the world’s best wedding coordinator and planner.”
Claire tried to sleep but the panic of planning a wedding in four weeks made her suffocate. She lay next to her fiancée and attempted to make sense of everything. Maybe she needed to compartmentalize, one thing at a time: wedding, reception, dress, and maid-of-honor. “I would like Emily to be my matron-of-honor.”
He was almost asleep. “We can discuss it tomorrow. Good night.”
“Good night.”
This is the finest measure of thanksgiving:
athankfulnessthatspringsfromlove. —William C. Skeath
Chapter 25
They talked into the early morning about the wedding. Therefore, Thursday morning, Claire slept soundly until after nine. Sensing that she was alone in the big bed, she focused her gaze on her left hand. On the fourth finger was a spectacular engagement ring. Smiling, she marveled at the reality; it wasn’t a dream. She was really marrying Anthony Rawlings.
Until last night, Claire hadn’t allowed herself to think of Tony in terms of emotions or endearments. She knew she was having feelings, but she wouldn’t let herself elaborate. However, when he said he loved her, it opened a floodgate. She thought about her feelings and how she missed him when he’s gone. How she enjoyed having him around to talk with. How he could make her feel special, and how she thought about him when they were apart. She realized, to her own amazement, she really did love him! She couldn’t contain her smile; this revelation was so astounding!
Claire wrapped herself in a thick long robe and walked downstairs to the dining room. As she approached, the rich poignant aroma of fresh coffee filled her lungs and brought her senses to life. Jan had coffee warm and ready for Claire. Tony wasn’t there either. “Mr. Rawlings is in his office, Ms. Claire. And if I may? Congratulations.”
“Thank you, Jan. I’m sorry you have to work on Thanksgiving,” Claire offered as Jan poured her coffee.
“It is all right, miss. I am looking forward to having guests this afternoon for dinner. We rarely entertain here.”
“Guests? I am sorry. If Mr. Rawlings mentioned guests, with the excitement of our engagement, I’ve forgotten. Do you remember who is joining us for Thanksgiving dinner?”
“I am sorry. I don’t believe he told me names. I know there will be two, and they are scheduled to arrive at one thirty.”
Jan convinced Claire to eat an English muffin and grapefruit. After breakfast, Claire went to Tony’s office. She could hear him speaking behind the closed door. She may be his fiancée, but interrupting him uninvited in his office didn’t seem like a good idea. Perhaps some rules would change, but she decided that he would choose which ones. She went back to their bedroom, showered, and thought about how glad she was she’d bought new clothes. If she needed to be the perfect companion for some business associates, she felt better in well-fitting clothes. She decided on a black pair of wool slacks and a pink knit sweater that came from Neiman Marcus. The black boots had high heels, Tony wouldn’t seem as tall. Dreamily, she thought about fuzzy socks and her new hoodie—being Mrs. Rawlings would teach her to keep up appearances. Actually, being Claire Nichols had taught her that.
As she straightened her hair, she marveled at the new even lighter shade. The auburn showed through enough to be considered low lights, but she was definitely a caramel blonde now. Although Catherine packed many pieces of Claire’s new jewelry, she wanted to wear her grandmother’s necklace and the O earrings Tony brought her from Europe. She shook her head; that seemed so long ago. Once she was completely dressed, she relaxed on the bed and let her mind wander.
Internal monologue: I’m going to marry Tony. I’m going to marry Tony in four weeks. I need a wedding dress. I need to call Emily. There were guests coming to dinner. Perhaps after dinner I can approach the Emily subject with Tony. Where will we marry? Who will we invite? Suddenly, a nice destination wedding anywhere seemed like a good idea.