Sophia gently took the man’s elbow and led him around the studio. After a few minutes of enjoying his charm, she decided, why not? After the last two weeks, what harm could one dinner and a drink do... after all; a new investor could help with her parents’ debt.
Sophia’s mind moved slowly with recent events; however, when the word investor came to her, she recognized the name of the man beside her. “Rawlings?” She stepped back. “Are you the Anthony Rawlings, as in Rawlings Industries and Shedis-tics?”
He grinned, “The one and only.”
She tried to hide her shock. “I’m not sure if you know this... I mean you have thousands of employees, but my husband works for you at Shedis-tics.”
Tony turned toward the painting. “This is lovely. What was your inspiration?”
Sophia tried to concentrate, the mountains were from memory. “The inspiration was a mountain range in Geneva, Switzerland. It’s a beautiful place. Have you ever been?”
He nodded. Sophia saw sadness behind those memorizing eyes. “Mr. Rawlings is everything all right?” She’d been so wrapped up in her own personal tragedy she hadn’t been following the news.
His eyes refocused on her. “I’d like to purchase this.”
She never remembered making an easier sale. “You don’t have to do that, just because we identified our connection.”
“Oh, Mrs. Burke, there is more. Could we possibly discuss it all over dinner?”
Sophia looked at her watch. “It’s ten in the morning.”
He smiled, “Then lunch? Could I meet you at the Bistro at the top of Bradford Street, say one o’clock?”
“They don’t serve meals until after 5:30.”
Tony exhaled, “Well, I’m not on my usual game. I’m staying at the Inn at Crown Pointe, so once again... dinner... say six?”
“Do you want to know the price of the painting?”
“You can tell me during dinner. I’ll write you a check.” He smiled, “If you think I’m good for it?”
Despite the absurdity of this encounter, Derek had said good things about Anthony Rawlings. “I accept. I’ll see you at six.”
Tony bowed gallantly. “Mrs. Burke, it is a pleasure to finally speak with you in person. I look forward to our talk.”
She watched as he walked into the cool autumn morning. Mmm, tonight’s conversation with Derek will be interesting, she thought as the bell on the door jingled signifying Mr. Rawlings’ exit. Sophia quickly walked toward the handle and secured the lock. She’d had enough odd visits for one day.
Tony paced the confines of his executive suite thinking about Sophia. He wondered what she would be like if she’d been raised a Rawls, instead of a Rossi. In actuality, she was a London; however, that was irrelevant.
Nathaniel Rawls wanted to bring Sophia into the family as soon as he found her. At first Tony wasn’t sure; although, he never dared voice his opinion to his grandfather. Yet over time, as Nathaniel’s intention remained steadfast, Anton agreed. With Sophia’s talent, an affluent education and influence could have propelled her beyond her current meager status.
Although Sophia’s adoption was completely legal, the true reason Nathaniel’s desire never materialized was Marie/Catherine. Even in 2013, she didn’t want to know or even have knowledge of her daughter. Catherine didn’t know Sophia’s name, her occupation, anything...
Catherine knew Tony knew. Tony even suspected Catherine knew he’d been watching over her. Until the death of Sophia’s adoptive parents, they’d never discussed it. Tony wasn’t sure how to approach the subject, especially now with Sophia married into a line connected to Jonathon Burke. Yet, he reasoned, Catherine was supportive of him and Claire; perhaps she could also be supportive of Sophia’s choice.
Heaven knows, Tony didn’t approve of Derek Burke initially. However, over time the man passed every test Tony posed. Tony wanted to be sure Derek was the right person. After three years of enticements, Derek and Sophia were still together.
Tony thought pensively about Claire. If only he could say the same about them.
The knock at the door startled him. His original thought to ignore it evaporated as the rapping grew louder. “Mr. Rawlings, open the door.” He stared toward the wooden barrier. “Mr. Rawlings, this is the FBI. If you don’t open the door, we have a member of the Inn’s staff present to open it.”
His dark eyes stared as he pulled the door toward him, “FBI... is this about Claire?”
A man in a dark suit presented a badge, “Yes, sir.”
“Have you found her?”
“Mr. Rawlings, we need to take you in for questioning.”
The weak can never forgive.
Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.
― Mahatma Gandhi
Afterward
Claire rolled on the large bed, relishing the soft sheets against her skin. Smiling, she reached for the man whose warmth filled her days and nights. Instead, her touch met cool satin. Lingering in her cocoon, she enjoyed the ceiling fan’s gentle breeze as it moved the humid air around the grand bedroom. When she closed her eyes the scent of his cologne permeated her senses. Beyond her haven, she heard the sounds of morning: birds singing their morning wake-up songs and the ever present surf.
Forcing herself from the heavenly bubble, she reached for her robe, and walked toward the veranda. A veil of tropical vegetation filtered the sun’s sultry penetration. Stepping around the fragrant flowers and large lush leaves, she took in the marvelous view. Even after over two months, it still took her breath away. Leaning against the folding wall, one that, due to her instance, remained mostly open allowing the indoors to be outdoors; she relished the blue. Truly, blue couldn’t describe the panorama: endless blue sky with wisps of white filled the space above the horizon. Below the horizon, Crayola would be at a lost to describe the shades. On most mornings turquoise dominated. Sometimes if the sun was just right, the waves sparkled florescent. Farther out, away from the shore and her paradise, the waters darkened. The blue became indigo, purple or gray, often reminding her of the fog covered mountains near Palo Alto.
Wearing a white bikini and white lace cover she made her way to the front lanai. As her bare feet padded across the smooth bamboo floor, Madeline’s friendly rich voice brought her to present. “Madame el, may I bring you tea?”
Claire smiled, “Yes, Madeline, thank you. But please, no food... I’m not hungry.” The baby’s increased growth reduced her stomach to a mere fraction of its old size. She filled so easily these days.
Madeline and Francis were brought to this island paradise thirty-five years ago by their wealthy employer. He died, but they stayed. Since that time they’ve worked and maintained this heavenly home, on the other side of the world from their native Haiti, for multiple owners. When Claire purchased the paradise retreat, the couple came as part of the package. They were invaluable, especially during the first few weeks while she was alone.
She couldn’t imagine being there without them.
They did everything and anything to make Claire feel welcome and safe. Madeline’s dark, radiant skin and cheerful smile brightened every room. She absolutely glistened when Francis was near. Being married for over forty years and unable to have children themselves, they have tirelessly cared for family after family. As a matter of fact, when they first learned the estate, the island, the retreat, was purchased by a single female, they tried unsuccessfully to hide their disappointment. However, as soon as Madeline saw Claire’s midsection, she praised God for giving them another child to tend.