He could say no and make her wait. Her unmet curiosity could be her punishment; however, if he made her wait, then he would have to wait. Tony was tired of waiting. “Certainly, Catherine, shut the door and have a seat.”
Her gray eyes narrowed as she approached his desk. “What is it? Did she refuse to speak to you?”
“What is what?”
“You look… I don’t know, upset? And you didn’t call.”
He shook his head. “No. She spoke to me.”
“And?” Catherine leaned forward. “Tell me, how is she?”
“She’s doing well—too well.”
“Anton, don’t make me pry each word out of you. I want to know all about it.”
There was no way in hell that Tony planned on telling her all about it. His and Claire’s reunion had gone better—much better—than he’d dared to imagine. He wouldn’t tell anyone about what happened at her condominium. That memory would be theirs alone. It would sustain him until he held her in his arms again, until she was where she belonged—in Iowa.
He suppressed a chuckle as he recalled Claire’s power play. “I had reservations for our dinner. A few hours before, she called my cell.”
Catherine gasped. “How did she get the number? She didn’t try to cancel, did she?”
“I don’t know how she got my number. I wondered the same thing. Although I’m curious, the subject never came up.” He shrugged and suppressed a grin. Since something else had come up during their reunion, he no longer cared. “Perhaps, she remembered it from before? And, no, she didn’t cancel; she’d made reservations of her own.”
Catherine’s eyes widened. “What did you do?”
“I let her believe she was in control. I went to her destination.”
“You see, Anton, she’s much stronger than you gave her credit for.”
He didn’t usually think about the way Catherine addressed him. She’d called him Anton ever since the two of them were very young. That would change. Nodding at her statement, Tony leaned forward and looked her in the eye.
Uncharacteristically, she pulled away. “What is it?”
“My name is Anthony or, better yet, Mr. Rawlings. It is not, nor has it been for a long time, Anton.”
“What? Of course it is. You’ll always be Anton to me.” When he didn’t respond, she added, “That was how you were introduced to me, and what Nathaniel—”
“Don’t go there.” He abruptly stood and walked toward the highboy.
Catherine’s voice softened. “Did something happen… with her? Is that why you’re acting this way?”
“I think it’s time to move on. Anton Rawls is gone.” He lifted his brow. “And so is Marie Rawls.”
She shook her head. “Stop it. Why are you saying this?”
“Because of you.”
“Me?” Catherine asked, stunned.
“You said that Claire lived in this house for two years and never knew its secrets. I think it’s time to put those secrets to rest. Our list is done—we’re done with the past. After all, no one knows about it but us.” He watched as she smoothed nonexistent wrinkles from her skirt. When she failed to respond, he asked, “Isn’t that correct? No one but us.”
Lifting her chin, she swallowed before she spoke. “I-I think I might… I might know…”
“What, Catherine? What do you know?”
Squaring her shoulders, she stood. “Mr. Rawlings? Really? After everything that we’ve been through, you suddenly want to be addressed as Mr. Rawlings—in private? And what respect do I get? After all, I was Nathaniel’s wife.”
“You were,” Tony agreed. “But since Rawls was taken from you, I suppose it would be London.”
Her eyes screamed with retorts, yet her lips remained pressed together in a straight line. Finally, she nodded. “Very well, Mr. Rawlings, I hope that you feel better in the morning. I believe this conversation is deteriorating faster than either of us is willing to admit.”
Tony chuckled and pulled the picture from his pocket. Thrusting it toward her, he asked, “What can you tell me about this?”
Slowly, she took the photo and unfolded it. “It’s a picture of Claire and Emily at Claire’s graduation.” Meeting his eyes, she asked, “Why?”
“Because apparently it was just part of a prison delivery that Claire received.”
Catherine stepped back. “I didn’t include… I don’t know… she told you?”
“She blindsided me. You didn’t think it would have been helpful to let me know about your little package before I went to see her?”
Her hands ran over her skirt as she sat and perched on the edge of the chair. “Anton-thony, I should have.” She nodded. “I should’ve told you when I first did it. It was just that… well, I saw how much you were hurting.”
“And telling Claire my birth name would help that—how?” Tony’s baritone voice echoed throughout his regal office.
“It would help her understand why you did what you did.”
“What about you? Did you add your autobiography to this delivery as well?”
“She didn’t share all of the contents?”
“If you are asking if she invited me to her condominium to see for myself, no.” When Catherine didn’t reply, Tony went on. “She knew the name Anton Rawls and that my parents and grandfather were dead.”
“Anton, you have to understand.”
He raised his brow.
“Anthony,” Catherine corrected. “She wasn’t supposed to be released for a long time. I thought that maybe if she knew some of your background and if she had time to think about it, she would understand you better. She would want to understand you better.”
He stepped closer and his words slowed. “I don’t want you or anyone else going through my private things.”
“T-that picture, I didn’t send it.”
“But you did send pictures, and they had to have come from my information.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Catherine went on to talk about the articles she included. They were selected to create an accurate timeline designed to lead Claire to the right conclusion.
“And what exactly was the conclusion you wanted her to find?”
“I wanted her to know that you’d been obsessed with her far longer than she realized. I hoped that would show her that you did love her and had for a long time. I wanted her to understand that you are a man of your word, and you had a promise to keep. I hoped that if she understood all of that, she could forgive you and… I don’t know… help you.”
Tony sunk back in his chair. Running his hand through his hair, he asked, “Forgive me? She’s the one who left me.”
“Yes, An-nd she knows that she didn’t try to kill you. She knows that she spent over a year paying for a crime she didn’t commit. I had hoped that she would stop hating you for that consequence and start to understand you.”
His eyes closed as he processed her explanation. It wasn’t at all as he’d imagined it. Had Catherine’s plan worked? Did that information help to propel her to become the woman at the restaurant and in her condominium? Finally, he stared back at the steel-gray eyes watching him. “It wasn’t your place or your right to share.”