Valentine's Dream. Carmen Green

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      “I’m told it was limited to kissing and hugging...”

      “Brian, hold on a minute. What is it?” she asked the staffer.

      “Sorry to interrupt. There’s someone who says he’d like to speak with you. He’s over there.”

      He pointed, but all Grace could see was a densely packed group of people engaged in their own conversations.

      “What about?”

      “He didn’t say.”

      “Did he give you his name?”

      “No, but I think I can take you to him.”

      Grace shook her head. If it was important, if it was who she thought, he’d find her again. She held up her hand to the staffer.

      “I can’t leave now. If you see the gentleman again, give him my apologies. Maybe Steve Milton can help him. Steve should be with the caterers.”

      “I’ll go check,” the staffer said as he walked away. At that moment she could hear a gong being sounded to signal to the guests that they were to proceed to another hall for the formal sit-down dinner.

      Grace spoke again into her walkie-talkie. “Brian, I have to go.”

      “One more thing. Security has calculated that there are probably fifty to seventy-five more attendees than the guest list allowed for. I had two of my staff using counters as people checked in.”

      “Review the numbers, and give the development office a head count in the morning. Let them decide what to do about any added expense.”

      When Grace finished relaying instructions, she was already in motion, hurrying off to make sure the guests were being properly ushered into dinner. She tried not to let her attention wander.

      She stood to the side as the main hall emptied and the guests filed past her into the rotunda. She allowed herself a few moments to study the beautifully dressed women while indulging in a private game of picking out the dresses she liked the best. She smiled to herself as she also realized that she no longer had occasion to wear anything so elegant. While she was nicely dressed in a simple, black, cocktail-length dress appropriate for the event, she certainly couldn’t compete with the glamorous women guests decked out in expensive designer gowns.

      It took almost twenty minutes for everyone to find their table and then covertly switch places with one another as invariably happened. The caterers then served the first course, offering each guest a choice of red or white wine with dinner. The noise dropped to a low hum, and Grace breathed a sign of relief. She’d managed to keep things moving through half the evening without any serious mishap or griping by the sponsors.

      Part of Grace went into a new alert mode as she took in the seated guests. She resisted the urge to try and identify any one person. Ten minutes into the first course, she signaled for the attention of a technician, waiting discreetly behind a screen with the audio-visual equipment to make sure the microphones were ready for use.

      At one of three main tables where the corporate higher-ups and their wives were prominently seated, one man suddenly stood up. Grace automatically turned her attention to him. The lights were very low, and the room was softly illuminated by cleverly designed centerpiece candles on each table. She could not see his features clearly but didn’t need to. She experienced instant recognition and a feeling that was akin to fight or flight. Grace was quickly able to overcome the surprise factor and had time to compose herself before she heard him call out her name.

      Someone else did the same from several feet away. Grace turned around as the catering supervisor approached to request instructions on what to do with the leftover food and the extra bottles of liquor. When she’d finished conversing with him, she pivoted slowly and found herself face-to-face with the man who’d called from across the dinner hall.

      She lost her sense of time and place. She remained controlled, but her smile was stiff, her hands cold. She rested her gazed upon him, cold and distant.

      His dark eyes were watchful and discerning. His wide mouth showed signs of a smile. His brows were black and finely arched over discerning eyes that watched her through thin, wireless glasses that were almost undetectable until he was right in front of her. His skin was a rich earth brown, and his face was clean-shaven, with masculine contours and angles. Grace kept her gaze on his face but avoided direct eye contact. Finally, in self-defense, she resurrected those impressions she’d formed of him at their first meeting, some eight years ago. She held those memories up like an invisible shield, as if he was somehow a danger to her.

      He tucked his chin as he thoughtfully considered her. “Why do I get the feeling you were trying to avoid me?”

      His voice was confident. Although strong and deep, Grace knew that it could also be very quiet, a steadying force. Ignoring his astute observation, however, she hid her embarrassment behind a smile.

      “Carter. My goodness. What are you doing here?”

      “First thing’s first,” he said. “How about a proper hello?”

      Grace started sharply, thinking he was going to embrace her right there in the hall. Instead, he merely bent forward to kiss her on a cheek.

      “I know you’re working, but I don’t think that was too out of line.”

      She stood stiffly at his greeting, feeling the warm imprint of his lips on her skin, lips that momentarily quickened her breathing. “It doesn’t matter. By tomorrow someone will ask me, ‘who was that man?’”

      “And your answer?” he baited smoothly.

      “I’ll say you’re a family friend whom I wasn’t expecting to see,” she said indifferently. She could tell that he was monitoring her reaction to him. “But to get back to my question—”

      Carter stretched his arms out to the sides so that she might see how he was dressed. “I was invited. I’m one of the guests.”

      Grace gave him a quick up and down glance. She’d seen him in a tuxedo before. He did it justice, appearing not only urbane and sophisticated, but with an air of authority that could be intimidating. It had taken her a while to learn he could be otherwise.

      “A guest? You mean you flew in from Chicago just for the evening?”

      He slipped his hands into the pockets of his formal slacks. “More than just an evening. Actually, I’m in New York for about ten days to take care of business.”

      “Really. Where are you staying?” She couldn’t help asking.

      “Through my company, I have guest privileges at a midtown club.” He took a moment to study her features and said quietly, “I thought of calling to let you know I would be in.”

      “Checking up on me?” Grace shook her head. “You don’t have to do that. I’m doing fine, and I know you’re busy. You do have a life that has nothing to do with Benson and his family. And he’s been gone three years.”

      He nodded, considering her words. “I know that. But, like you just said, I am a family friend. I’d like to stay in touch. I’d like to—”

      Grace put her hand out to stop him, СКАЧАТЬ