In the face of that rather awkward encounter, Claire didn’t say much of anything. She just quietly told Eliot that she needed to check in at the club. She then headed back down the stairs she had only just been ascending before their ever so brief reunion stopped her in her tracks.

Eliot took a deep breath as he looked between the two women, then started down the stairs after Claire, who was already nearly through the main hall and the foyer door.

“El...” Summer called down to him as she bit her lip.

Eliot let out another deep sigh before making himself turn back her way, “Out of the two of you, I think she’s the one I need to be talking to right now.”

“But...” Summer continued worriedly, though he had already made his decision and had continued on the rest of the way down the stairs to follow after Claire’s quick footsteps.

Upon arriving at the “social hall” of sorts that Raven’s Loft had now become, Claire made her way through the crowd and up the stairs to her office, her expression giving away nothing.

Having to move quickly just to keep up with her, despite the ten and a half inches of height he had on her, Eliot finally caught up to Claire when he reached the office she had barely frequented in recent years.

“Trust me, I was as surprised as you by this... development,” he settled on as he took another moment to catch his breath.

“What development?” Claire asked quietly as she moved to the desk to busy herself with the recent receipts that were in a pile there.

“Claire,” he stated with a gentle scolding tone at her lack of showing any sort of response at all to said development.

“Eliot,” she said in the same tone as she made a show of organizing the receipts before her.

He sighed as he took a seat across the desk from her, “I am sorry,” he said softly.

“For what?” she asked, still making no eye contact.

“For Summer of course,” he scoffed, though quietly.

“The season, or...? Cause that’s pretty much all year, here,” Claire mumbled.

“Claire,” he sighed as he continued to watch her struggle to maintain that unruffled facade.

That was when she finally allowed herself to look up and show some tiny sliver of emotion again, “What? Am I supposed to be going into a jealous rage or something?” she just shook her head and returned her eyes to the papers.

Eliot swallowed as he tried to gauge her true feelings. “I mean, it was unexpected and you have every right to...”

Claire scoffed loudly as she looked up again, “No I don’t. You should know that better than anyone. Even if you have been gone for practically twenty years,” she added more quietly.

“Listen, I know you have this whole open marriage thing. And you have other lovers, obviously, but still...”

“But what?” she asked him pointedly.

Eliot swallowed as it took him a moment to meet her eyes then, “But if things are the way they were, when I was actually here,” he stated with a trace of guilt, “I mean, you aren’t bogged down with all the duties that have been plaguing him for almost a century. Sean has, what, an hour of free time a night? And to choose to spend that with someone...” Seeing her eyes quickly dart away, he immediately regretted his statement.

Claire took a long moment to find a response, “I’m not jealous, like that. I mean I don’t think I am. I just...” she shook her head.

“Just what?” he asked gently.

“I don’t understand why. I mean, I guess that doesn’t even make sense, but I just don’t understand. Like you said, he barely has a moment to enjoy, any of that sort of thing. He’s always claimed that he wished he had more time for us to spend together. But now, suddenly he’s found more time. Only...” her voice shook, “I mean what’s so special about her, that he would finally find that time... after all these years? That’s what I don’t get,” she said in a near whisper as she forced down more emotions, turning her eyes away again.

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“So you’re worried that he sees something in her that he doesn’t see in you?” Eliot asked perceptively. “Come now, Claire. He’s been with you for three hundred years.”

“Exactly,” she agreed sadly. “Maybe he’s just finally tired of me.” She quickly moved on, “and, I mean she is gorgeous and all magical and...” Her voice trailed off as Palmer appeared in the doorway, casting she and Eliot both a curious look.

“Don’t stop chatting on my account,” her long time business partner stated wryly. “Besides, whoever you’re talking about, she sounds quite interesting,” he added as he moved to retrieve some papers from the cabinet near the door, seeming totally oblivious to either she or Eliot’s moods right then. Not that emotions were high on the list of things Ventrue acknowledged, let alone noticed.

“Did you need something?” Claire forced herself to ask, though her tone was a little curt despite the other man’s attractiveness. The fact of what clan he belonged to had spoiled that for her long ago.

“Got it already,” he told her as he held up the paper pointedly. “I have been running this place pretty much by myself for a long time after all, Claire,” he added with his usual condescending manner replacing the charm he only turned on when he needed something from someone. He then moved on just as quickly, “And when you said ‘magical,’ I assume that was just some flowery turn of phrase you lot like?” He asked, his opinion on Toreadors never far from the surface.

“Don’t you have your own office now?” Claire told him impatiently.

“Touchy touchy,” he smirked as he moved toward the door, then turned back once more. “And, can I give you a bit of advice to help with whatever has you oh so sad tonight?”

“I seriously doubt it,” she bit back, though in a mumble.

“Well, thin walls and our hearing have both allowed me to follow most of your conversation here this evening. And, if you really want to know what’s so special about this girl that has you so bemoaning your own existence again, then just use that pretty little brain of yours and find out. I’m sure Sean knows every single thing that’s in her head already. Why shouldn’t you know too? Ciao,” he added as an afterthought before heading back to his own office at last, leaving Claire with that sage advice, offered as pleasantly as a Ventrue could offer anything.

----------------------------------------

Claire had taken to spending nearly every night at her club for the remainder of that year. And the place had now grown to five times the size it had been when she originally opened the place. Of course, she also had embarked on a side project or two during that year as well. Anything to keep herself as occupied as possible, and coincidentally, away from the estate as much as possible.

She did still return to the mansion to sleep out most of her days, just for safety’s sake. But her daily slumber was almost always followed by her heading off to The Loft again for the rest of the evening. Some might assume she was avoiding the place she had called her home for so very long, but she reasoned that if anyone in that home ever had a desire to find her, it would hardly be difficult for them to know where to look.

It was the last week of the year when someone did come looking for her there after all. Claire was upstairs at The Loft in her office going over the books, as she usually did when she wasn’t in the mood to deal with the crowds that flocked to the place each night. At the sound of footsteps approaching her doorway, she looked up, fully expecting Eliot to be stopping by for a late dinner, as he often did.

“Happy holidays,” Summer greeted her with a more than awkward smile as she reached the doorway of Claire's office. She held her arms protectively around herself as she tried to keep her gaze on Claire’s face instead of averting her eyes as she was quite tempted to.

“Holidays?” was the only response Claire found as she struggled to keep her expression from showing anything deeper than just her skepticism of the girl’s greeting, let alone her presence there at all.

“It is Christmas Eve isn’t it?” Summer tried another smile through her shrug.

“Didn’t notice,” Claire mumbled as she did Summer the favor of averting her own eyes and pretending to be still concentrating on the account books before her.

“It seems that the couple hundred people celebrating downstairs noticed,” Summer continued, still trying to hold her smile.

“Mm hmm,” was Claire’s only response.

Summer took a deep breath as she looked around the office, “So Eliot’s not here?” she stated the obvious.

Claire resisted the urge to shake her head and continued in the same mumble, “apparently not.”

Summer swallowed hard again, “Well, since you didn’t really spend your birthday, or Sean’s, or any other holiday this year, really, at the estate, I was wondering if you were going to make an appearance tonight or tomorrow. Maybe?”

“Wasn’t invited,” was Claire’s brief response.

Summer allowed a small, if wary, chuckle, “Why would you need an invitation to spend the holidays at your own home?”

Claire couldn’t help scoffing at the statement before then shaking her head, “To answer both of the questions you’ve posed tonight, Eliot is working on my other home. Which is probably where I’ll be for any of the holidays I barely even pay any attention to anyway after all this time.”

“Your other home?” Summer asked with obvious surprise. “Sean never said anything about you getting another home.”

“Shocking,” Claire responded nearly inaudibly. “And why would he? I paid for it with the money the club makes. So why would it even come up in any conversation you might have with Sean?”

“Does he even know that you were getting another home?” Summer asked with what nearly sounded like sadness, as shocking as that too would be.

“Well, he will now, as soon as you go back to see him tonight. So sort of a moot point isn’t it?”

“Well, I mean, were you trying to keep it a secret from him, or something?” Summer asked bravely, though her voice did grow quieter as she did.

“I doubt Sean would even care, Summer,” Claire said, her eyes saying more than even her tone did then.