Valentine's Dream. Carmen Green

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      “You’re right. I don’t want you to get in trouble on my account.” Carter put his hand around her elbow for a brief moment, squeezing it before releasing her. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

      Throughout the rest of the evening, Grace found herself constantly distracted and a little off balance owing not only to Carter Morrison’s sudden appearance, but also to the one unsettling memory she’d retained from their last encounter. It had been at the memorial service for her late husband, Benson.

      Grace now moved briskly, not giving herself any more time to let her mind or attention slip into reflection, or to process the fact that Carter was not only in New York, but would be here for nearly two weeks. She oversaw the timely cleanup and dismantling of the bar. She accepted the praise of one of the corporate honchos, who was pleased with the level of service from her staff. Of course, Grace had to put his comments in perspective, given the distinct possibility that he may have had too much to drink, or was expecting her institution to concede another favor.

      But for the rest of the night, there was no denying that a part of her was absorbed by the presentations, speeches, laughter and applause that flowed out from the guests dining in the rotunda. She was surprised when Carter was introduced to accept an award. She stood listening to his humorous acceptance speech, which drew laughter and applause. Also evident was the effortless way Carter showed himself as someone who could be trusted. Nonetheless, later, as the guests trickled out of the rotunda after dinner, she made a point of being someplace else.

      After nearly everyone had left, one of the female guards approached Grace as she talked over the evening with her coworker, Brian. The guard was holding a square glass vase with an exotic arrangement of hothouse flowers. They had been part of the decoration for the night.

      “I saved this for you, Ms. Haley,” said the chubby woman as she smiled at Grace.

      “Carmen, you know we’re supposed to leave everything for the night crew to clean up.”

      Carmen made a dismissive face. “Why should they get everything? You know they are not going to throw out these beautiful flowers and the vase. They’re going to take ’em home. The way I figure, it’s like taking the centerpiece home when you go to a wedding reception, right?”

      Grace laughed but still didn’t accept the arrangement being held out to her. “Why don’t you keep them? I’ll pretend you didn’t say anything to me about it.”

      “I already got one,” Carmen said conspiratorially.

      “Carmen, I really don’t think I should. How will it look if the events coordinator for the society is caught sneaking off with the floral arrangements? Even if it were okay, I can’t take those home with me on the train.”

      “Tell you what. Don’t worry about it, okay? If you come into your office in the morning, and there happens to be this big thing of flowers on your desk, you can act surprised and say you have a secret admirer or something like that.”

      “Whatever.” Grace gave in with a grin as Carmen walked away, carefully balancing the vase.

      There was plenty to take care of, and Grace was glad that her duties kept her away from the exit and the departing guests. She reasoned that she wasn’t really avoiding Carter, but that she was fulfilling her responsibilities for the evening. When she finally switched from black, high-heeled pumps to her winter boots and put on a stylish black wool overcoat, Grace realized she had a mere thirty-five minutes to catch her commuter train. She said good-night to the last of the cleanup staff and exited the building through a side security door.

      Despite the late hour, there was plenty of traffic on the Midtown Manhattan street, and Grace had no qualms about walking the six blocks to Grand Central Station alone. But she’d gone no more than a few yards when the driver’s door of a town car double-parked near the corner suddenly opened and out stepped Carter.

      Grace slowed her steps, astonished to see him again.

      “You’re not waiting for me, are you?” she asked.

      “Are you done for the night?”

      He stood with the car door open and the engine running. He wore no coat over his tuxedo, and his breath vaporized in the late-January air. The streets still had piles of dirty snow from a heavy snowfall the previous weekend.

      “Yes. I’m on my way to Grand Central to catch my train. I’ve really got to run.” Grace waved casually to Carter as she walked away.

      He beckoned to her. “Get in. I’ll drive you home.”

      She shook her head. “That’s nice of you, Carter, but crazy. You don’t want to go all the way up to Westchester at this hour.”

      “It’s my invitation, my decision. All you have to do is say yes. Unless you really want to ride the train alone this late. Or maybe it’s me?”

      Grace was forced to stop completely. She regarded him with wary embarrassment. To her, Carter sounded neither angry nor hurt, but was simply speculating.

      “That’s not true,” she said quietly. But even to her ears, her disclaimer came across as insincere. “I just assumed you’d want to hang out awhile with some of your associates.”

      “That’s why we all attended the dinner. I’m off the clock now. This is my time.”

      “Right. But you don’t have to spend it with me every time you come to the city,” Grace said, trying to walk away.

      “Benson was my best friend, Grace. I was there at your wedding. I’m godfather to one of your kids. So far it’s fair to say I haven’t really been here for you when you’ve needed anything, especially after Benson died. And he did ask me to keep an eye on his family if anything ever happened to him.”

      Grace faced him squarely. She also remembered Benson making that request. It had come right after Carter, the best man, had given an eloquent toast at their wedding reception.

      “I can’t hold you to that, Carter. It was eight years ago....”

      Two men passed behind her, deep in conversation. A lone woman on a cell phone passed in front. Grace was standing in the middle of the sidewalk, and it was cold.

      “Come on. Get in,” Carter repeated and waited.

      Grace took a deep breath and slowly walked toward the car. By the time she’d reached the passenger side, Carter had come around the front of the vehicle to open and hold the door for her. She settled herself in the front seat and waited for him to get behind the wheel. In the few seconds it took for him to climb in and put on his seat belt, she had accepted the situation. Besides...the car was deliciously warm, with a luxurious leather interior, and she was grateful that she’d been spared a grim late-night Metro-North train ride to the suburbs.

      Neither said anything for several blocks, as Carter navigated traffic and headed to the east side of the island and the FDR Drive. It was the quickest route to the Major Deegan Expressway and north into Westchester County.

      “Are you warm enough?” he asked, making a turn at an intersection.

      “Yes, thank you,” Grace said, pulling off her gloves and stuffing them into her tote bag. She noted that Carter knew his away around the city like a native. She stole a glance at СКАЧАТЬ