One idea reaped Rawls millions. The next cost them millions. Currently, the balance sheet was in their favor, but the risks and the possible legal repercussions weren’t worth the benefits. Stepping into the large office, Samuel silently prayed that he would be able to make his father see his point of view.

The man behind the desk sat bold and defiant. “I wondered how long it would take you to confront me.”

“I didn’t think we needed an audience.” Samuel closed the double doors, unaware that they were slightly ajar.

“Always worried about others’ opinion.” Nathaniel grinned. “Obviously a trait you received from your mother. I don’t give a damn what others think.”

“Perhaps you should.”

“Speak your mind.”

“You know my thoughts. You need to get rid of Jared Clawson. You need to stop these alternative means of financial gain.”

Nathaniel laughed deep and low. “I need?”

“Father, I’m sorry, maybe need isn’t the best word. You should.”

“You are sorry? You are a weak piece of shit!” Nathaniel stood and walked around his grand desk, facing his son. “Didn’t you learn anything? Don’t apologize! Apologies are for cowards, they make you appear weak.”

Standing tall, Samuel continued his mission. “This situation is getting out of hand.”

Nathaniel laughed again. “Out of hand, like we are making millions upon millions. And this is bad?”

“We were doing well before, and it was legal.”

“So what part of these monies don’t you like? Your wife is enjoying the money and your son is enjoying the best education. You, your wife, your son will never know what it is like to be without. Tell me again what you don’t like.”

“I believe they would’ve been happy with our earnings before. Amanda and Anton do not need excess. Neither do I.” Samuel watched his father turn back toward his plush leather chair. “Neither does Mother.”

Changing directions, Nathaniel abruptly turned and struck his son’s left cheek. “Don’t you ever tell me what your mother wants. You have no idea what she’s been through. You have never lived as we did. Money is good for one thing, it buys what you need, what you want. And because of my decisions you and Anton will never worry about money. Do not ever tell me what to do with my business, and don’t apologize. I raised you better than that!”

He knew there wasn’t an answer for his father. Samuel turned to walk away.

“Where are you going, boy?”

“I am going upstairs to my wife. Do you have a problem with that?”

“You are going upstairs, to the upper level of my house. No. I don’t have a problem. Do you?”

“No, Father, I do not.” Samuel exited the office and briefly saw Anton’s face. The teenager had witnessed the entire scene. Samuel hoped that when they entered their suite they could talk about it. His son would know that discussion was welcome.

  God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom

toknowthedifference. —Reinhold Niebuhr

 Chapter 33

The view through the windshield of Tony’s new Mercedes-Benz CLS-Class Coupe reminded Claire of space movies. The snowflakes were stars being passed at warp speed. The snow, wind, and subfreezing temperature accentuated the reality that they were no longer in paradise. She settled into the heated seat, rubbed her leather gloved hands, and watched the snow covered terrain. The glistening sparkles would’ve been pretty if not for the blowing and accumulation. Tony didn’t mind. He was enjoying his new car, which had arrived at the estate while they were gone. To Claire’s relief, it handled amazingly well on snow.

Although almost eight at night, she felt as though she was finally waking, the jet lag was difficult to navigate. Both she and Tony slept late following their arrival back to reality. Now as they headed to Tom and Bev’s for a New Year’s Eve celebration, she thought about their return.

When they entered the estate, Catherine’s welcoming smile was the best sight Claire could imagine. They immediately embraced. The peaceful stillness of the mansion, barren of decorations and workers, was comforting. She and Tony ate a light dinner and fell sound to sleep.

It was this morning, while more awake, that they discussed their bedroom situation. Now that they’re married, should they move into one room? When Tony asked her opinion, a benchmark moment, she replied she liked maintaining two rooms. The most important thing was that they sleep together, the location was irrelevant. Claire told him she liked her suite. Truth be told, she did. Yes, she knew it had surveillance and memories, but it was also where she felt safe and at home. Maybe she’d come to terms with the recordings. She felt . . . well, secure. If Tony could watch her every move, he wouldn’t question her actions. She also mentioned, “Besides, my suite doesn’t match yours in terms of technology.” His had the big multifaceted screen and God knows what else. “And you wouldn’t be able to access all your stock market data from here.”

Since their big storm last summer Claire hadn’t been required or asked to watch any more videos, but she believed Tony did. She also believed that he could access anything he wanted from his office, bedroom, movie theater, or anywhere else he chose. This hadn’t been confirmed, but somehow she suspected it to be true.

His reply was why even now as they drove Claire was still stewing. “I think that sounds reasonable, I don’t believe we will be running out of room anytime soon.” As Claire watched, the honeymoon hue of Tony’s eyes was overtaken by darkness. “However, regarding the technology you mentioned, I believe it would be prudent to maintain the past restrictions involving my office and bedroom. I do not think you need unsupervised access to computers, Internet, or telephones.”

“Tony, I am your wife. What do you think I will do?”

“I think that it is best to avoid possible glitches.” He lifted her chin. “Do you agree, or would you like to discuss it further?” He’d closed the conversation.

Claire stared into his eyes, squared her shoulders, and straightened her neck. “I agree. Excuse me. I need to take a shower.” He released her chin and she walked away. She’d learned months ago she didn’t like glitches, and pursuing a closed conversation wasn’t prudent. However, every bone in her body wanted to pursue it. She really didn’t care about the technology. She didn’t want to access it. Claire wanted the ability to access it!

Ten hours later, as they rode to Tom and Bev’s party, she contemplated the closed conversation. Now that she was Mrs. Anthony Rawlings, didn’t that give her some kind of clout? Some perks? Could she possibly revisit the subject without fear of retaliation? As she debated this internally and watched the glistening flakes sparkle in the illumination of the Mercedes’ beams, she wondered if her life had changed. She was Mrs. Anthony Rawlings, but was that really different from being Ms. Claire Nichols?

“Do you agree?” Tony’s question pulled Claire from her thoughts.

“I am sorry. I didn’t hear your question.”

“I asked if you would prefer the view in Fiji over this frozen splendor of Iowa.”

Claire laughed. “I don’t think you need to ask, do you?”

“Probably not, but I am trying to get you to talk.”

“I’m talking.”

“Yes, you are. But you haven’t really been talking since this morning. Would you like to discuss it before we get to Tom’s?”

Claire thought about the question. Yes, she wanted to revisit the subject, but should she? “I don’t know.” Her feet were cold and the fashionable boots weren’t helping. She tried to get them under the blow of the Mercedes’ heater. “If I say yes, am I opening a closed subject?”