Leaving his office she turned toward the grand staircase. Beyond the stairs through the magnificent foyer with the high ceiling Claire saw the double doors that led to the outside. They were tall and ornate. Without thinking she walked toward them, perhaps she should have run, but no one was around. The house was empty, like a museum. She could hear her heart pound in her ears as she approached the handle wondering if it would open. She wouldn’t learn. Suddenly, she heard the sound of shoes on the marble floor of the corridor. The footsteps didn’t sound rushed but determined and were getting closer. Claire quickly turned and began the ascent to the second floor. She didn’t look back down. She didn’t want to see the person that produced the footsteps, especially if that person would meet her gaze with a black-eyed stare. Instead, she walked toward her suite.

By the time she closed the door her internal monologue was in full gear. He actually hit me with his belt! My god! The man is mad. I have to find a way out of here!

At that moment, she didn’t search for an escape. Instead, she showered, redid her hair, her makeup, and put on another outfit. While she cleaned herself up she contemplated fleeing. Questions arose. Where would she go? How would she get there? How far to civilization? And what were her chances of success? And most importantly, if she failed, what would he do?

Her lunch arrived. Even though she missed breakfast she barely ate. She sat quietly on the sofa, read a book, stared into space, and waited for instructions. A feeling of helplessness settled into her chest like nothing she’d ever known.

About four thirty, the beep sounded, the door opened, and she dutifully obeyed. His demeanor, less malicious than before, seemed merely callous. The forbearance of the early morning and the tour were gone. Anthony had a goal for his actions. Claire needed to understand who was in control. She had done this to herself, he told her. She needed to do what she was told. But did she? No. He made her say, “No, I didn’t do what I was told.” And behaviors have consequences. Could she remember that? “Yes, I understand behaviors have consequences.”

That evening they didn’t dress appropriately for dinner in Claire’s suite. Anthony decided he wanted her to model some of the lingerie. Dinner was eaten while wearing a flowing black silk negligee.

Every time she thought he was done and would leave, he regrouped. Maybe a drink of water or check the messages on his iPhone, then he resumed. The violence ended, but the domination continued. Claire wanted to scream. But she didn’t. The more she obeyed, the less ruthless his instructions. After midnight, Anthony left her suite. He didn’t say whether her door would be unlocked in the morning, and she couldn’t remember if she heard the familiar beep. She wanted to check, but her body barely moved. Instead, she closed her eyes and went to sleep.

  Human beings, by changing the inner attitudes of their minds,

canchangetheouteraspectsoftheirlives. —William James

 Chapter 6

Her eyes didn’t open until she heard the door and her breakfast arrive. It usually came after she awoke. Looking at the clock, she saw that it was 10:30, the latest she’d slept since her initial arrival. The young lady with the food apologized. “I am sorry, Ms. Claire. I know you were still asleep, but Mr. Rawlings would like you dressed and in his office by noon. Catherine said you need to eat.” She handed Claire her robe as she got out of the bed.

“Is Mr. Rawlings working from home again today?” Claire’s head pounded and body ached. This was way too late for coffee, and perhaps the activities of yesterday were affecting her.

“Miss, today is Sunday. Mr. Rawlings is usually home on Sundays.” The young lady left the suite. Claire made a mental note: Watch out for Sundays.

Timidly, Claire approached the mirrors in the bathroom. Lowering the soft robe, she saw long red stripes on her back and new bruises. She didn’t cry. She steamed with anger. Of course, it was directed toward him but also at herself. She wanted this nightmare to end, but she couldn’t figure out the solution. Helplessness was not an emotion Claire was accustomed to feeling, and she didn’t like it. Her only solution was to remain resolute until an opportunity arose.

At eleven fifty-seven, Claire knocked on Anthony’s office door. The door opened, and he looked up from his desk. “Good afternoon, Claire.”

Smiling respectfully, she said, “Good morning, Anthony, I believe it is still morning.” She looked at his eyes and wondered who he would be today.

Claire walked into his office and stood before his desk, the same place that twenty-four hours earlier had been the terrifying scene of his rage and domination. She stood with her back straight, chin high, and smile plastered on her lips. The blouse she chose and her makeup covered the visible signs of the prior day’s happenings. Anthony sat quietly and studied her. The silence made her uncomfortable. She prayed he couldn’t hear her heart beating too fast or notice her wet palms. Long ago, she learned that awkward silences were an interview technique. She wouldn’t be the one to break the silence.

Finally, “I believe you are correct, for another two minutes.” Anthony’s eyes seemed lighter. Claire breathed easier and smiled. She was on time.

“Lunch will arrive here in a few minutes. I thought we would discuss some of the glitches that our business deal has encountered.” He stood and moved toward Claire. She kept her ground, neck straight, and watched as he circled the grand desk. He stopped only inches away. She could smell his fragrant cologne and needed to tilt her neck upward to see his face. He didn’t speak but indicated with a gesture that they move to the conference table, where he pulled out a chair for her to sit; she did. He sat at the head of the table with Claire to his right. The room was silent as Claire thought to herself how his gentlemanly behaviors were such a farce.

“Glitches? I am not sure what you are referring to.”

Before responding, he sat back and contemplated Claire Nichols. Her eyes contained an intense fire, and she possessed more daring than half of the presidents of his many companies. After what he put her through, he couldn’t help but be astounded. “I wasn’t sure you would come here today.”

“I wasn’t aware I had a choice. I believe my job duties include doing as I am told.”

“That is correct. Perhaps you can be trained.” He chose his words carefully.

Claire’s mouth twitched, but she stayed steady. Getting upset would only accomplish losing control and giving it to him. He may take it, but by god, she wasn’t giving it. “I am trying my best. Now glitches?”

A knock came as the door opened and their lunch arrived. They sat in silence as the young lady placed their food in front of them and asked Mr. Rawlings if they needed anything else. He informed her they were currently fine. She retreated from the office and closed the door behind her.

“Glitches, yes. I spent $215,000 for a business deal. I make deals that will be lucrative to me. I expected a better return for my money than I have experienced in the last three weeks.”

If this was supposed to shock Claire, it didn’t. She casually picked up her fork, ate a piece of broccoli, and responded, “I would believe that yesterday you successfully increased your return.” And stabbing another piece of broccoli, she added, “Besides, wasn’t it you that decided your business holding would be locked away for almost two weeks?” She ate more broccoli. Part of her feared retaliation, but the other part believed he appreciated the bravado.