Harry thought for a moment and then replied, “Do I think she’d still go to this, if Mr. Rawlings were present? Yes. Why?”

“It seems he isn’t sitting at your table, because he’s one of the speakers. He’ll be sitting at the head table.”

Forgetting his tailored tuxedo, Harry sank onto the sofa. Subconsciously he blew his blonde hair from his eyes. However, this evening his normally unruly hair was gelled back. The only movement from his deep exhale was a subtle repositioning of his long lashes.

His tone was one not often heard, Amber recognized her brother’s pinned up animosity, “You know damn well Liz knew about this, before now.”

“No, I don’t. She’s a good assistant. I can’t fire her because you two have history.”

“Then fire her because of shit like this. She’s trying to derail this evening. It has nothing to do with SiJo; she’s doing it because it’s me with Claire.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Like hell I don’t.”

Claire took one last, long look at herself in the mirror. She did a slow spin trying to see the whole package. The dress she’d choose with Emily’s help was a Donna Karan emerald green gown. It created an hour glass figure, better in Claire’s opinion, than the one hidden underneath. Its sweetheart neckline was perfect to showcase her grandmother’s necklace. The cap sleeves and crossover design on both the front and back fit perfectly. Of course she’d had it shortened. Now with the Jimmy Choo, sling-back, peep-toed pumps complete with four and a half inch heels, the hem brushed the top of her toes, making her closer to Harry’s six plus foot height. Turning ever so slowly her gaze lingered on the cut-out back. It didn’t go as low as her white sundress, but nonetheless, it exposed a large portion of skin. Smiling, Claire knew Harry would like that.

Peering closer at the woman in the mirror she analyzed her hair. Claire decided to do it herself; she enjoyed the primping. It’d been a long time since she’d dressed up this much. Yes, she agreed to do it for Amber. Yet, truth be told, she enjoyed the occasional formal occasion. It was part of her life with Tony she sometimes missed. When he first started taking her out, she thought of it like dress-up -- make-believe. Then over time, it was a fun get-a-way from the confines of the estate. It never seemed to matter what was happening in their private lives, once the door of the limousine opened and they stepped in front of the cameras they were the perfect couple. Those memories didn’t feel jaded or feigned; instead, they felt warm and exciting.

After the first time they went to the symphony, Claire never feared the events. She learned quickly how to behave and very much enjoyed the social Anthony.

Pushing the memories of her and Tony away, she looked again at her hair. Piled high on the back of her head, there were ringlets falling down her exposed neck. She knew it was a style Tony liked, but hopefully so would Harry. And thankfully, Tony wouldn’t be there.

As she touched-up her lipstick, she heard Harry and Amber’s voices from down the hall. Frowning, Claire realized they didn’t sound happy. She did one last scan, grabbed her purse, her light wrap, and headed for the living room. She wanted to know what was happening.

The sound of her heels upon the polished wood floor caused both Amber and Harry’s heads to turn in her direction. Immediately, their quarrel ceased and smiles radiated from each face. Amber found her voice first, “Claire, you look beautiful! Thank you so much for doing this; Simon would be so proud.”

Simon’s name brought a wave of sadness. Claire had been in her room thinking about Tony, about to go to this function with Harry, and now Amber mentioned Simon. Despite the melancholy sentiment, Claire feigned her brightest smile. Perhaps all formal attire came complete with a lovely mask. “Thank you, that’s very sweet.”

Before Amber could reply, Harry made his way to Claire’s side and smiled lovingly down into her painted face. “I wish I were better at words; all I can think is Wow!”

Claire felt her cheeks blush. “That says a lot.”

“Maybe this thing won’t be so bad; after all, I’m gonna have the most beautiful woman on my arm.” Harry said as he lifted his elbow. Claire obediently slid her petite hand into the crook of his arm.

“You look pretty amazing in that tuxedo, too.” Claire purred, enjoying the adoration radiating from Harry’s intensely blue eyes.

Amber beamed, “Seriously, thank you, both of you.”

Claire’s expression became more serious as she glanced between both Harry and Amber, “What were all the loud voices about?”

Harry straightened his stance; his shoulders filled the confines of his jacket. “Amber just received some news.”

Defensively, Claire straightened her posture, too. “What’s wrong? What kind of news?”

Amber spoke quickly. As if saying the words in rapid succession would lessen their sting, “Liz just called. While it’s true Mr. Rawlings won’t be at your table, she just learned he will be there. He’s one of the speakers.”

Claire’s mind once again went into reverse. She remembered many events, sitting at the head table, and listening to her husband speak. “So he’ll be at the head table,” she said matter-of-factly.

Amber and Harry both released their breaths.

Claire looked surprisingly at each face, trying to read their expressions. “Did you think I’d be upset? Did you think I’d say forget it?”




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