Tony’s eyes darkened, “Are you saying when you were with my friends in the past, it was a performance?”

“No.” Claire sat taller; the car glided onward and Tony continued to make marked looks to his right. “I’m saying, there were times I wasn’t happy with you, but no one knew.”

“You aren’t happy with me?”

Grasping the large hand holding the steering wheel, she explained, “Tony, we are doing what you want, it’s a performance.” She considered their child. “I can’t say I don’t want it to be real. But for now, it isn’t. Let’s not add unnecessary layers to this charade.”

He considered her words, and finally asked, “So there is a part of you, I will settle for a small part, which wants what we are about to do, to be real?”

She exhaled, “Yes, Tony, a small part of me.” and of you – she thought. “wants us to be real.”

The scenes passed, and a comfortable banter ensued, until they neared Tim and Sue’s home. Tony slowed the car and his tone, “Perhaps we should review rules?”

Claire closed her eyes and replied, “Maybe I could save us some time and summarize? Do as you say. No public failure and do not divulge private information.”

Tony exhaled, “Are you summarizing or mocking?”

“For the sake of argument, I’ll call it summarizing. As I said earlier, I’ve done this before. Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but I’m perfectly capable of doing as you wish.”

“No, Claire, I have not forgotten your abilities. I just need confirmation that we’re on the same page as we enter the Bronson’s home.”

Her patience waning, “Tell me the number, and I’ll turn right to it.”

The car was now stopped along the side of the country road. Tony grasped Claire’s chin and turned her glaring green eyes toward him. “I believe I’m tiring of the sexy, bold, and cheeky.”

Her strong tone didn’t vacillate, “Then stop this charade.”

He maintained his hold, peering intently into the fire of her emerald eyes. Finally he asked with obvious restraint, “May I please have reticent and genteel while in the presence of others?”

Her lashes fluttered, the fire ebbed, and her southern belle emerged, “Why Mr. Rawlings, your wish is my command.”

The darkness before her grew. She found herself lost in the abyss of his stare. Time stilled as her chin remained captive between his thumb and finger. Their distance decreased and his lips neared hers. “Kiss me.” It was his wish, his command. Powerless, her eyes closed, lips parted and their mouths united. His hand released her chin and reached for her shoulders. The restraint of the seatbelts held their bodies in place, yet their hands and lips searched for one another.

When they parted, Tony replied breathlessly, “If we weren’t expected at the Bronson’s any minute, I’d like to put more effort into exploring the wish and command possibilities.”

Claire leaned her head against the seat and laughed. Tension within the sleek sports car had been mounting. The kiss released the pressure valve on their boiler. The sudden relief allowed Claire a moment of honesty, “I’m nervous to see all of them again.”

Once again he reached for her chin. This time he gently pulled her eyes toward his. What was once black now faded into soft brown velvet. “There may be questions, personal questions. This isn’t the press. They are people who know me, know us. They’re going to want to know what happened.”

Claire nodded, accepting Tony’s advice. He continued to create a believable scenario – a story which they’d each know and could refer, with consistency. The blending of their stories was essential to making the world believe their reunion. Dutifully she listened to every word, knowing her performance affected the lives of many.

This dinner was another of his forced moves. Claire needed to evaluate the chess board and strategize her next appropriate move. She couldn’t afford to lose any more pieces. As she considered their baby – too much was at stake.

The cars parked in the driveway indicated they were the last to arrive. Claire tried not to imagine the conversation occurring within. Of course, she’d probably learn the truth from Courtney later. For fear of being discovered, Claire left her work phone in California. Talking intimately with her dearest friend would wait until Claire was back in Palo Alto.

Claire compliantly stayed within the grip of the sleek bucket seat, struggling to quell her growing anxiety, until Tony parked the LFA and chivalrously came around to open her door. Upon seeing her expression, Tony whispered, “I’m not leading you into the den of lions.”

“No, you’ve already done that.”

His polished expression wavered, “This time, I won’t leave you. I’ll stay by your side. You won’t be alone.”

 His valiant tone strengthened her. Nodding, Claire grasped his extended hand. Being alone was always her greatest fear. As their fingers intertwined she realized she wanted his support and presence. Walking toward the house, Tony leaned down, “I’d hoped seeing everyone here first would be easier than seeing them for the first time in a crowd.”

“It probably will be; nevertheless, I think I’m going to be ill.”

He stopped their forward movement and assessed the woman before him. “Your color looks good. You look amazing. I promise,” he squeezed her hand, “I’m right here.” His grin broadened, “A man of my word.”

She reached up and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

Before they could push the door bell, Tim opened the wooden barrier. With Sue by his side, he politely offered, “Welcome to our home. Tony, Claire,” he nodded with a smile.

 “Please come in,” Sue added. She motioned toward the large sitting room full of familiar faces. Feeling the cool insincerity, Claire secured her mask and clung tighter to Tony.

Silence prevailed as Tom, Bev, Brent, Courtney, Mary Ann, and Eli turned and watched Tony and Claire enter with Tim and Sue. Courtney was the first to move. Without speaking she sat her wine glass on the large square table before the sofa. Ignoring Tony, Courtney approached Claire, her blue eyes glistening with tears. It wasn’t as dramatic as their reunion in Texas, but Courtney’s embrace squeezed the air from Claire’s lungs. Helpless, Tony released Claire’s hand as the two women clung to one another weeping. Courtney whispered in Claire’s ear. Could others hear? They didn’t know.

“I’m so sorry; I’m so sorry.”

Claire nodded, swallowing her sobs. This wasn’t an act. It was the reunion of two friends. The ice was broken, another release. Eventually the rest of the room began to talk. Sue, Bev, and Mary Ann led the women to the kitchen. Dabbing their eyes, all the women gave Claire the support she’d feared Tony’s friends would withhold. Everyone claimed to have doubted Claire’s guilt. They all apologized for not being more supportive. Claire knew the man in the other room was the reason for their disobliging behavior. Nonetheless, she bashfully accepted their belated validation.

When they returned to the living room, Claire devotedly sat beside her ex-husband. His expression displayed genuine pleasure with the ladies’ response. When he reached for Claire’s hand and gently brushed her knuckles with his thumb, their faces bowed toward one another and their noses touched. The light contact provoked an approving smile from her lips.

 Their Oscar worthy performance was outstanding, possibly under serious consideration for nomination. Throughout the entire evening Tony was Claire’s anchor. By the time dinner was complete, even Claire believed the words coming from her mouth.

With Tony engrossed in conversation in the living room, Claire made her way to the kitchen. She’d spent the evening nursing a glass of wine, for appearances; however, water seemed to be the only liquid capable of quenching her ever present thirst. Leaving the others behind, Claire wondered, is thirst another symptom of pregnancy? She stood at the sink, filling her goblet when Brent approached and nonchalantly whispered, “Did you get my message?”