Claire Danes Young Novels & Stories

Claire got ready to go to the office. She is wearing an Armani business suit. Her beautiful hair is set in loose curls. Claire came out of her room walking downstairs to find the utmost silence in the dining area. Everyone is there, but having thirteen people around the table and no one is talking, she understood something is wrong. And it would of course be her fault. The head chair was empty, that is her place. Dakota is sitting right in front of her on the other head chair.

​The air in the foyer of the Glass House didn’t just feel cold; it felt ancient. It was as if the return of Claire Vance had brought back a draft from twenty years ago, a chill that no amount of industrial heating or high-end architectural insulation could mask. She stood at the base of the grand staircase, her black silk gown pooling around her feet like a shadow. To the world, she was a tragedy a woman whose car had tumbled over a cliff two decades ago, leaving behind a shattered husband and a motherless child. To Elena, she was a nightmare that had suddenly found flesh.

She read it again now with different eyes, looking for the thread she had not known to look for the first time. An hour later Dana appeared in her doorway. "The two finance people," Dana said, quietly. "From the forensic team's preliminary findings." "You know about that already," Jade said. "I know about most things on this floor before most people do," Dana said without apology. "The two junior people from legal and finance." "What about them." "I know the one from finance," Dana said. "Slightly. Not well. But enough to know she is not someone who makes decisions without being very specifically motivated." She paused. "Her name is Claire Webb."

"I meant—" "You said commercials," Lorenzo said, pulling out his phone. "Interesting choice of words for someone who claims to have been hidden away in protective custody." He turned his screen to show Claire's acting resume—headshots, a list of theatrical productions, commercial appearances. "Claire Donald," Lorenzo read. "Born in Ohio, not New York. Moved to New York five years ago to pursue acting. Moderate success in theater, several commercial bookings, but struggling financially until three months ago when suddenly you could afford a Tribeca penthouse."

Claire took a deep breath as she said "That is because you do not know the kind of man Dane Grayson is" . . . TBC

That night, Claire decided not to tell Danny about the audition, reasoning that, if she didn't get the part, there really was no point in worrying him about nude scenes and the like. She was back at Justin's house the next day in a blue and white summer dress, blue heels and a red bra and knickers as promised. Claire was half undressed by the time she got to Justin's couch so keen was she to show how well she could act. She even initiated an open-mouthed snog with him to start things off, trying to picture Danny in her mind rather than an old hideous obese slob with poor hygiene standards.

"You asked me to contact Claire’s relatives. She has none, except for an aunt who has dementia and lives alone. By my sources, I found out that Claire lived her entire life in New York, but when she was 18, she moved to the UK. There is no clear reason for her move to the UK, except that people say she wanted to travel the world. However, I found it suspicious, considering Claire’s history." "I contacted my sources at Oxford and found out that Claire was indeed enrolled there in the same course as your mom. And Politician Scuderi, who studied law, happened to take a minor in Fiona and Claire’s department," Adeline said. "Claire was either expelled or resigned. We’re not sure which, but then

Hunter smirked as he breathed across from her face. Tbc... To those thinking how come Claire's a CE at such a young age. Come on, when a 5 yr old can hack into his billionaire father's company systems and make him almost go bankrupt, then my FL is still more mature than that 🤣

Dana’s POV As I sat down on my couch, sighing and thinking of my life and how God decided to make things difficult for my twenty four year old self I was brought back to life by my ringing phone “Where the hell are you” my only friend and coworker, Claire yelled through the phone “I’m on my way, there’s a lot of traffic” I lied “Be fast or else you know what” she said almost yelling I ran through the door as fast as I could knowing I’m putting my job at risk, I hailed a taxi and got in telling the driver the address, looking at how the crowd outside bubbled and the lights as beautiful as ever I only thought one thing

Daniel's POV The runway was below the VIP box. Daniel stood at the glass and watched because there was nothing else to do. Claire was beside him. Her hand had found his arm and stayed there. "She's performing," Claire said. "All of this is theatre. The white coat, the timing, the speech in the lounge. She's a designer making a collection, Daniel. Not a martyr." "She didn't sound like a martyr," Daniel said. "That's because she's rehearsed it."