Truth - Romig Aleatha - Страница 89

Now Sophia and Mr. George continued to wait. The night air helped relieve Sophia’s distress. Although she hadn’t been looking forward to Derek’s big gala, she knew how much it meant to him. He’d been anxiously anticipating spending this time with his boss and Mr. Cunningham’s wife. He was also very excited to meet the CEO of Shedis-tic’s parent company. He’d told Sophia his name and Hilary Cunningham had gone on about a woman named Nichols, but currently the CEO’s name escaped Sophia. More than anything she wanted to be back in that crowded, pretentious ballroom.

“Mrs. Burke, I apologize for this inconvenience.” Mr. George was now on the balcony too.

“I don’t blame you. It’s just that my husband is so close, and I should be with him.”

“Mrs. Burke, if this weren’t important, I wouldn’t have asked you to be here.”

“Do we even know the name of this mysterious buyer?”

Mr. George rubbed his temple. “No, Mr. Hensley is the one I’ve been dealing with.”

They both turned, upon hearing the door to the suite open. Mr. Hensley entered. When it was clear he was alone, they both exhaled and moved to join him within the suite. His voice was more assured. “I cannot adequately express my sincere apologies regarding this horrid meeting. Circumstances beyond anyone’s control have delayed my employer. He would, however, like to offer an olive branch.”

Sophia and Mr. George didn’t reply. It had been a long evening.

Mr. Hensley continued, “If you two could please have a seat. My employer would like to fund an exhibition of your work, Mrs. Burke. He was thinking of an exhibition which would run in multiple cities, in succession.”

Mr. George and Sophia sat. Her tired mind spun with this new offer. First, this mysterious man paid 2.3 million dollars for three of her paintings and now, he wanted to fund a moving exhibit. She momentarily forgot about Derek and the gala. Her thoughts now centered upon Mr. Hensley and the papers before him.

Eric went on, “Mr. George, commission of all sales at all locations would be directed through you. Mrs. Burke, if we could take a few minutes to discuss possible locations?”

Sophia nodded. She wasn’t sure her voice could sound composed.

*****

When the final speaker concluded, the MC from earlier came to the podium and announced, “Ladies and gentleman, the orchestra will be in place soon. If everyone could please make their way back out to the atrium, dancing will commence in less than a half an hour.”

Claire looked down at her watch. It was only nine-forty, but she was exhausted. If this were Harry she’d let him know. But it wasn’t. She was back to weighing each word. “Are we staying for dancing?”

Tony leaned closer, his eyebrows raised, “Do you want to dance?”

“No, I really don’t. I’m tired and I’d like to go home. If I could have my phone I’ll call for the SiJo car.”

Tony leaned back against his chair. His lack of response caused Claire’s skin to crawl. The contrary emotions his actions elicited made her feel as though she were with two different men. One minute he was courteous and social, the next he was his old domineering, controlling self. She tried to remain obedient. With each passing minute her insolence increased. Finally, she leaned toward him, smile glistening. From afar they appeared to be having a friendly chat. Claire’s voice betrayed her current emotions; she could only restrain them visually, audibly was too much. Her voice cracked as she questioned, “Have I done everything you asked?”

His external facade remained intact, “Yes, but I want more.”

Her heart sank, “Please, I’m tired.”

“Then perhaps you should go to bed.”

She saw the twinkle in his eye. Her mask momentarily shattered, she leaned closer, as panic filled each syllable, “I am not agreeing to sleep with you.”

His perfect smile remained unwavering; however, his eyes registered darker than she’d seen since the penthouse, “Sleeping, my dear, is not what I had in mind.”

She closed her eyes and waited for the distress to pass. When it merely subsided, she turned to her ex-husband, “I will go upstairs with you. I will complete this scenario. I will not have sex with you.”

“Why do you fight it?”

People mingled close. There were waitresses and waiters clearing tables. Other couples milled near. Claire inhaled and exhaled. The urge to cry was almost beyond her control. “May we please go upstairs? This conversation is upsetting me. If you want to maintain this charade, we’d better leave while I can maintain a smile.”

Tony stood and chivalrously offered Claire his hand. She exhaled and took it, allowing her fingers to be swallowed by his girth. “Ms. Nichols, shall we bid our ado’s to the appropriate people?”

“Yes, Mr. Rawlings. I am but so ready to close the curtain on this performance.”

Tony leaned toward her ear, “The press release is viral. This, my love, was only the first act.”

An older couple from the National Center for Learning Disabilities approached. With her stomach in knots, Claire bravely continued her duties. When they finally reached the golden elevator, Tony removed his phone from his jacket and sent a text. Claire remained silent until the doors opened to the Penthouse entry. “May I have my phone?”

Tony looked at his watch, 10:17 PM. “My dear, the night is still young.”

*****

Sophia looked at the list of cities: San Francisco, Seattle, Phoenix, Dallas, Chicago, Louisville, Atlanta, Miami, Charlotte, New York, Boston and Bangor. The tour consisted of two weeks in each city. Exhibition halls rented, advertised, and paid. Lodging and food stipends, as well as travel expenses. Mr. George would receive his customary fifteen percent. The mysterious buyer would receive five percent. The rest of all sales would go to Sophia. With two weeks in each city and the occasional time off, the tour would last approximately thirty months.

“I have some overseas commitments,” Sophia said as Mr. Hensley discussed the exhibitions.

“I’m sure that can be worked out.”

“I really need to discuss this with my husband.”

“Of course,” Eric replied as he glanced at his phone. “Let me give you this written information.” Looking to Mr. George, “You have my number. Please call when Mrs. Burke has made her decision.”

Mr. George responded, “Yes, we’ll talk.”

Eric Hensley turned to Sophia, “Mrs. Burke, again, I apologize for the inconvenience. I hope my employer’s olive branch will help to make amends for the missed gala. I’m sure you would like to join your husband. I look forward to talking to you again soon.”

Sophia stood with the realization she’d been released. “Thank you, Mr. Hensley. Mr. George and I will be back to you soon. Please tell your employer I do appreciate his offer.”

Eric walked Sophia to the door of the suite, “I will. Do you need an escort back to the ballroom?”

“No, thank you. I’ll be fine.”

Eric Hensley nodded as Sophia walked from the suite. As she waited for the elevator Sophia sent a text to Derek. I’M FINALLY RELEASED. DO YOU STILL WANT ME? 

Her phone vibrated within seconds, DINNER IS DONE. DANCING IS ABOUT TO START. I’D LOOK FUNNY DANCING ALONE. I ALWAYS WANT YOU!

Sophia smiled as the mirrored cubical descended to the main level. When the doors opened, she hurried toward the ballroom.

The single biggest problem with communication is the illusion that it has taken place. 

—George Bernard Shaw

Chapter 36

Perhaps it was her look of desperation or the tears that lingered on her perfectly painted lids. The reason was not yet revealed. Nonetheless, once the golden elevator closed and Tony and Claire were alone in the entry of the Saint Regis Penthouse, he opened his Armani jacket and handed Claire her phone. She contemplated taking it to an isolated area and calling Harry. Instead, she bravely stood before Tony, waited for it to turn on, ignored the icons indicating missed calls and messages, and scrolled for the number of the SiJo driver.