Behind His Eyes: Truth
Page 38

 Aleatha Romig

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As Tony scaled the front steps, Brent opened the front door. “Good morning, Tony,” Brent greeted. “Come on in.”
“Thanks,” he said, as he looked around. “Is Courtney here?”
“She is. She’s kind of going a little crazy right now.”
“I know you two must be busy. This won’t take long.”
Brent led Tony through the house toward the kitchen. “Cort, Tony’s here.”
Although she greeted him with her customary hug, volumes of unspoken questions filled the room with tension. Tony didn’t like it. He had very few people in his life that he considered true friends, and Brent and Courtney were on his short list.
“So,” Tony began. “I thought you deserved to question me yourself—about the press release. I’m sure it came as a shock. I would’ve been here sooner, but I didn’t get back from California until late last night.”
The Simmonses looked at one another. Finally, Courtney spoke, “I really don’t know what to say. I mean, seriously, what the hell?”
Tony pressed his lips together. It was more direct than he’d anticipated.
“I don’t understand,” Courtney continued. Her voice cracking as her volume increased. “I wanted to help her and you forbade it!”
Brent squared his shoulders. “Sorry, Tony, Courtney has a lot happening right now. This caught us both off guard.”
“No,” Tony hastily replied. “Don’t apologize for her.” Turning to Courtney, he added, “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I was wrong and I deserve everything you just said.”
His friends sat silently as a bit of the tension eased. After a few moments, Courtney wiped a tear from her cheek and offered, “Wow, I never expected to hear that from you.”
Tony shook his head. “I never expected to say it. I think it was seeing her, talking to her—”
Courtney interrupted, “Wait, would you like some coffee? I think we need more than a brief answer.”
Tony agreed.
Courtney started the coffee and excused herself for a moment. When she returned her tears had dried, and the three friends moved to the sunporch. The fresh, gentle breeze from the open windows helped to facilitate a calmer atmosphere. As Tony spoke, he explained how he never wanted to believe that Claire would want to kill him, but the evidence seemed so strong. He lashed out—at her and everyone else. He added, “I’m sorry.”
Though Brent didn’t respond, Courtney walked to where Tony was seated and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Tony exhaled. It was a more welcoming hug than the one he’d received upon his arrival. After she moved back to her seat, Brent asked, “How did you secure her pardon?” His frigid tone returned the chill to the spring air.
Tony glared in his direction and the wheels turned. Honesty? Fabrication?
Before he could reply, Brent continued, “I mean, I accompanied you to Ms. Allyson’s office. I know you pretty damn well—or so I thought.”
“No, you do know me,” Tony conceded. “I didn’t know who was responsible for her pardon that day—and I still don’t. Maybe this will pull the coward from hiding. I don’t care anymore. Taking responsibility was Shelly’s idea and I agreed to it. She thought it made the story more convincing.”
“I bet she was excited about this declaration of reunification,” sarcasm dripped from Brent’s statement.
“She wasn’t.” Tony’s neck stiffened. “However, I’d hoped that maybe you’d understand.”
“I do!” Courtney chimed in.
Tony turned his dark glare from Brent and saw Courtney’s shining blue eyes. Sighing, he said, “I’m glad, because I’m not exactly sure where this is all going. Claire and I’ve had the opportunity to hash a few things out, and I’m hopeful that in time we can be back together, as a couple.”
“One press release won’t change people’s perception.” Brent stood and paced. “Hell, Tony, we’re your friends and I don’t know what to think. What about outsiders, employees, and investors?”
“I don’t give a damn,” his resolve reverberated through the porch and beyond.
“You don’t? I’ve known you for a long time, and that has always been your main concern.”
“Listen, I don’t have all the answers. What if I’m getting played? What if none of this is real, just some charade?” Tony used Claire’s word. “Right now, I want it to be real. And,” he paused. “I’d like to have her accompany me to Caleb’s wedding.”
Courtney gasped. Brent’s eyes grew wide, masking the usually present lines.
“I haven’t asked her,” Tony added quickly. “I’m talking to you first.”
Courtney’s words came slowly. “Are you asking our permission?”
The obvious emphasis on the word asking made Tony bristle. Was he asking? Did he ask? “Yes, I guess I am.”
Courtney stood and walked to the window. With her back to them, they could only watch as her head shook slowly from side to side. Finally, she turned on her heels; a new look of determination prevailed. “Here’s the deal. It’s not up to you, or me, or even Claire. First and foremost, it’s up to Julia.”
Tony nodded. He hadn’t thought of that.
“It’s her wedding. I mean we’ve seen thousands of pictures of that gala in California. I don’t want my son’s wedding turned into some media circus because suddenly you’ve had a change of heart.”