“Guenivere.”
“Carrie? Are you all right?”
Her shoulders drooped from disappointment. “You could tell from one word?”
“It’s in your voice, dear. Now tell me. What’s wrong?”
Dear Guinevere. She made Carrie think of the mother’s love she should have had. “I’m glad you called. I could use a friend right about now.”
“Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad. You’re a strong woman. Talk to me, dear.”
The woman had a way of bringing a peaceful calm to her nerves. Tranquility enveloped Carrie like a blanket. “Knowing you’re on the other end of the line eases my mind. I’ve never had the closeness and affection with anyone that I have with you.”
“I’m honored, dear.”
“No, Guinevere. I’m honored. And grateful. You’re one of an astonishing kind. You’re the epitome of grace. Elegance itself. You’re thoughtful. You’re smart. You’re sensitive.”
“Will you stop, please? And tell me the reason behind this.”
Carrie settled on the couch and curled her feet beneath her. “I can’t express how much you mean to me.”
“I would say the feeling is mutual, dear. Now tell me what’s wrong, before you make me cry. I can’t afford tears at my age.”
She never had a close friend growing up. There was no one to confide her teenage secrets. No one to nurture her, or soothe her hurts and fears. Life had made her grow up too fast. Her goal to help her sister fed her inner strength. The weight of the world that she carried on her shoulders had become a normal routine. This rare and heartfelt friendship she had with Guinevere bestowed a sense of amity.
“I had a rude awakening.”
“Not your young man?”
She gave a forced laugh. Him too. “A man, yes. Someone in my office.”
“Go on.”
“I trained him. He had the potential to be a high-status executive.” She hesitated, and then forced herself to go on in a rush. “I trusted him.”
After a lengthy silence, Guinevere said, “And he betrayed you.”
“Yes. That’s what I get for letting down my guard.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“He could have destroyed the company,” Carrie blurted. She rose and impulsively paced the length of her living room. “I fired him. He made a few idle threats. Acted like he had friends in high places and even had the nerve, the balls, to say I’d come crawling to him. Can you believe that?”
“I’m sure you gave him a piece of your mind along with that boot.”
“Men!” On her soapbox, words rolled out of her mouth like a run-away train. “I’ve had it. I knew not to trust men, yet I let myself get blind-sided.”
“Carrie, I think there’s more here than this man at your office.”
“How was your trip to Scotland?”
“Forget Scotland. Now tell me. Did Matthew do something to offend you?”
She came to an abrupt halt. Offend? If you wanted to label a traitor offensive. Carrie closed her eyes in pain. Matthew. “He is a man isn’t he?”
“You’re putting him in the same category? You make trust sound like a dirty word. You can put your trust in the right man. Dear, listen to your heart.”
“I don’t have one.”
“Stop that. Pouting doesn’t become you. I thought you had feelings for your young man. You can’t let what happened to your sister drive the rest of your life. That’s not living, dear. We learn from our mistakes and move on. Didn’t you say, your sister is engaged? Sounds like she has moved on.”
“So she says.”
“Carrie, tell me about Matthew. How does he make you feel?”
Like heaven.
So why did she feel like hell?
Carrie plopped on the couch. “Oh, Guin. I haven’t seen him in weeks. The last words I spoke were hurtful. I . . . there’s something else. He betrayed me too.”
Silence stretched across the wire.
“Tell me what you think to be true.”
She didn’t know what to think. Or do. Maybe if she poured it all out, Guinevere would help her make some sense of the situation.
“The man I fired, Brad, revealed confidential information for his own gain. When I confronted him, he threatened me. He also insinuated Matthew was involved.”
“The skunk would have said anything to save his own skin. Or he wanted to hurt you. ‘Cause you doubt.”
“I thought so at the time. But the man who exposed Brad, saw him with Matthew.”
“And you immediately assumed? Do I need to remind you how to break up the word into three parts? You’re a good judge of character. You must have had your doubts about your employee. But you know your young man. You fought against your feelings for him, so I know you gave him a thorough going over before you opened your heart.”
Carrie leaned her head against the glass door and stared into the distance, just like she’d done a thousand times since Matthew stormed out of her office.
“Do you remember when I mentioned a once-in-a-lifetime love?” Guinevere said at last. “I had that. There’s nothing like being loved by a man you think is your soul mate. He was everything to me. I had him for a short while. I wouldn’t trade one precious minute of the time I spent with him. Someday I may tell you about him. I loved him with my whole heart, body, and soul. There are no words to describe the way he made me feel.” Her voice held a wistful longing. “The best way to describe the feeling, I floated. Love flowed around us. I too had a career, even though back in my day that was unheard of.”
Intrigued, Carrie asked, “What kind . . .?”
“A movie career.”
She blurted, “You were an actress?” She couldn’t believe it. The old girl sure had the air of presence, not to mention the confidence, to execute any scene, whether on stage, in a movie, or in a queen’s palace.
“I had no doubt in my mind that I would give it up for him. And when the time came, that’s exactly what I did. If your young man makes you feel anything like that, don’t throw it away. Examine your feelings, dear. Search your heart. You’re an adult now. Don’t live in the past of your teenage years. You’re smart enough not to be taken in by a false love. As far as your career, which is more important? Didn’t you say something was missing from your life?”
Everything Guinevere said was true. “I wish you were here so I could hug you.”
“I just called to tell you that I’m back from my holiday. I wanted to extend an invitation so I can tell you all about it. Come over and you can hug me then.”
“I’d like that.”
“I’m off. You have some thinking to do. Remember what I said. Trust your heart. “
“Guin?”
“Yes, dear?”
Growing up in a house where these words were never mentioned, Carrie found it difficult to force the words out of her mouth. “I love you.”
“Now you’ve gone and done it.” Guinevere sniffed. “I love you, too. Like my own daughter.”
Carrie hurt. She went over everything once again in her mind. Including Guinevere’s words.
You can’t let what happened to your sister drive the rest of your life.
She had. The incident from long ago had shaped her entire life. A sour taste formed in her mouth the way it did every time she thought about the boy who had gotten her sister pregnant and then dumped her. For nearly twenty years she’d let her sister’s rotten, teenage boyfriend set the course of her life.
Ellie survived. She had a beautiful daughter. The man she now lived with supposedly loved her. Ellie seemed happy.
How does he make you feel?
Like heaven.
If Ellie’s man made her feel anything close to the unbelievable sensations Matthew created in me . . .
No wonder Ellie thought she was in love.
Love. Humph. Her parents never used the word. She loved her sister. And she loved Andrea as if she were her own child. Could she put a label on what she felt while
in Matthew’s arms? Her toes curled, her breath became shallow, and she forgot everything else. Including her livelihood.
Would you give it up for the right man?
Everything in her life had been arranged around her career. Hell, her life was her work.
Until Matthew.
You’re putting him in the same category? Dear, listen to your heart.
Yes, she’d put him in a category—a men category. But, she was finding they weren’t all the same. Matthew was not Brad. There could have been any number of reasons Williamson had seen the two. They could have met by accident. Brad could have planned the meeting as a set up.
Matthew was a part of her life now. A big part. An important part. She didn’t want to lose him. Her career wouldn’t mean a damn thing if she lost Matthew. These past weeks were proof of that.
How ridiculous she had behaved, moping around, acting like a lost soul when he’d been out of the country those weeks. Good Lord! Cupid’s arrow had found its mark even then. When lightning struck and the house fell on your head, you just had to accept it. The ice-queen hard-ass had fallen in love.
Maybe some of her assistant’s fixation on ‘that special someone’ had rubbed off, had been rooting in her brain for some time. Affection was different from crave.
Crave, want, hunger, all were words associated with sex. But, she wanted Matthew heart, body, and soul.
Her chest hurt a little more. Could she trust a man that made her forget everything but him? Most of her life she’d felt something was missing, there had to be something more. That skepticism had not reared its ugly head since Matthew came into her life. The day he shoved her into that cab he must have chiseled a chink in her armor. Not only had he been a constant in her thoughts, he’d changed her way of thinking.
Edward accused her of throwing their relationship away. The egotistical boob had said, when she returned to her senses, she would come crawling back to him. Brad had used the same term. Crawl. Somehow, she knew Matthew would never talk to a woman that way. He would treat her like an equal.
It all boiled down to trust, didn’t it? A man who made her pulse race. A man she counted the hours—minutes—until she saw him again. A man who made her think of him instead of keeping her mind on business.
They both were used to the fast lane. Travel, business, high dollar world, and demanding jobs. He’d just completed a merger which would certainly demand more of his time. And he didn’t live in New York. Those were minor difficulties compared to the chance she’d be taking with her heart.
There was no doubt he wanted her, in the bedroom. That didn’t mean he wanted a serious, loving relationship, a lifetime together.
Trust?
Lifetime?
She waited for the threatening confinement to overwhelm her. Only a calm reasoning filled her mind. Where was the denial? A lifetime. Hmmm. Didn’t sound so bad. Once she’d made up her mind she wanted Matthew, permanent sounded just fine to her.
Oh, Matthew. I do love you.
Her mind raced. Nothing held him in New York. What if he never came back? What if she never saw him again? Pain unlike any she’d known pierced her chest. Yes. It would seem she had a heart after all.
She had to find him.
Wild thoughts flew through her mind like leaves scattering in a March wind. LA. He lived in Los Angeles. A flight. She needed a plane ticket.
Grabbing her phone, her fingers shook as she called for information and booked the next flight out of New York. Then she called her assistant.
Getting her voice mail, Carrie waited for the beep. “Brenda. I’m going out of town. Hold down the fort while I’m gone. And no, I’m not sure for how long.” Won’t she be pissed she wasn’t home to get the scoop.
Carrie recalled her self-made promise to send Brenda some flowers of her own. She called her friend, who made a career in planning weddings. And got her voice mail too.
“Angela, it’s Carrie. Hey, I need a favor. Make up one of your most extravagant bouquets and send it to my assistant at the office. It must be there tomorrow morning. She’s my right arm and I’ve put her through the ringer lately. Her name in big bold letters on the envelope. Put these words on the card. You get your raise. And yes, I will give you the juicy details when I get back.”
Well. Maybe not all the details, if things work out the way I hope.
She dropped her cell onto the table and ran to her bedroom like her feet were on fire. Tearing through her closet, she grabbed a suitcase and tossed it on the bed. She flung her hair over one shoulder and jerked clothes from her dresser. All she needed was enough to get her there. Anything she forgot, she would buy later.
Her heart lifted.
She would see Matthew.
Soon.
Chapter 26
From the first moment they’d met, Matthew knew he wanted Carrie to be a permanent fixture in his life. Now he wondered if he’d ever see her again.
Sprawled back in his comfy recliner, a dark bottle of brew dangled from his hand. A single lamp gave off light from the stereo while lilting keys of Jacques Abram hovered about the room. With his white shirt open several buttons, the cuffs rolled to his elbows, he stared at nothing through the gloom.
No matter how hard he tried, the scene with Carrie played again and again in his mind. What happened next was entirely up to her. He damn sure was not about to apologize for a sin he never committed. Didn’t take him long to get serious about Carrie. He thought she’d grown deeply involved too. True, there were no rules in their relationship. No commitments.
The knot in his stomach grew.
Their connection had happened fast, maybe too fast. But he knew what he felt. And it hurt to find out she had not experienced the same emotion. Hell, it had devastated him. The blow to his ego, learning she didn’t trust him. She’d taken the word of another over him.
But then, more than his self-esteem had been damaged. His heart had splintered.
What about the hell she’d endured? He’d noted the pain in her eyes as she issued her allegations. Uncertainty flashed in her gaze. She’d asked him. Why must he deny the charges when she should have believed in him? The thought that Carrie would consider him guilty of such an offense only enraged him.
Of course he reacted with vehemence. All he could see was her accusing him, pushing him away, when all he wanted was her love.
Love.
He loved her. He needed her. In his arrogance, he’d walked away. Expecting her to come after him, begging for his forgiveness. Hell. What was wrong with him?
If he knew anything about Carrie, he knew she’d never give in, and not to a man. She was a fighter. Her strength and character is what he admired about her. If only she weren’t so single-minded on the male gender. He couldn’t remember a time in his life when he’d been more frustrated. She’d dealt him a blow, his pride attacked, and his hurt fashioned a wall of self-preservation. Thinking his heart would never recover, he’d written her off.
Which lasted about a day.
Did she really doubt him? Surely she did not believe him capable of such corruption? Despite his wealth and position, nothing had gone the way he’d anticipated. He couldn’t control the incredible disappointment of Carrie’s attack.
He’d have to meet her at least half way. Convince her to drop those walls, take a chance with him. Deep down, she had to believe in him. Her wound was old and she’d been scarred. He needed to convince her to give up any lingering resentment of the episode regarding her teenage sister.
He took a pull of his beer. He thought his life was empty before . . . he was damn hollow without Carrie.
He stilled. It took a moment for the sound to register, a persistent knocking. Placing the bottle on the table, he climbed from his cozy chair, strode to the door, and threw it open.
“Carrie?” He blinked to make sure it was not his imagination. “What are you doing here?”
“Matthew. I need to talk to you.” She seemed out of breath. And by her body language, very det
ermined.
“What’s this about?”
“May I come in?” Her voice had a hint of uncertainty, which he never expected to hear from her.
He hesitated only an instant before he stepped back and held his arm to the side. “Please come in.”
She marched past him with the huff of a stampeding bull. Not the cool, collected woman she normally showed the world. Unwilling to delve further into the purpose of her visit, he took a deep, silent breath and quietly closed the door. When he turned, he found the cool Carrie Stratton no longer inhibited this woman’s body. She stood with her hands fisted and breathing heavily as if ready for combat.
If a battle was what she wanted, he’d give her one.
Carrie blurted, “I know you’re probably upset with me.”
That was putting it mildly. “Upset?”
“Please don’t interrupt until I’ve finished.”
He stared at her for all of five seconds, then bent at the waist and made a gallant show of sweeping both arms in a grand gesture. “The floor is all yours.”
He strode to the sofa, and without another word, he sat. He leaned back resting one ankle over the opposite knee, his arm stretched across the back. And waited.
Her heart thumped as if she’d run the entire distance from the airport to his place. Now that she faced him, Carrie automatically analyzed the situation. For the first time in her life she was nervous.
Good Lord, she’d made a mess of things. The fluttering in her stomach would not cease. She had intended conducting herself as the professional she was. But standing before him, her nerves overrode her brain. If she’d listened to her heart earlier, she wouldn’t be standing here ready to throw herself at his feet—beg for mercy—Crawl.
Oh . . . my . . . God!
Another minute and she would have . . . crawled?
Something More Page 18
