by Jean Joachim
"Sometimes you can be infuriating," Jenna said, scooping rice onto her plate.
"Determined. Determined to have my way in this." Grey piled the sesame chicken on a small pile of rice in his plate and dug in, deftly moving the food from the plate to his mouth with chopsticks.
"Make your own rules and I hope someday you find this elusive mystery woman who is as good in the kitchen as she is in the bedroom," Jenna said, picking up her cup of tea.
Grey grinned and motioned the waiter for a check.
"If I find her…when I find her, you'll be the first to know."
"I believe you'll be the first to know, Grey," Jenna laughed as she clinked her glass with his.
Grey dropped some bills for the tip on the table and took the check up to the cash register. Jenna returned from the ladies room and the two climbed into his car and drove uptown.
Chapter Five
It was eight o'clock and the Upper West Side of Manhattan was quieting down from the traffic and honking horns of rush hour. Men and women were going to restaurants, curtains were going up on Broadway shows and Carrie was arriving home from work.
She felt tired from brainstorming on two new business pitches and working on a new product line for Country Lane Cosmetics. She barely had time to breathe and was now looking forward to settling in at home with a glass of wine, a frozen dinner and a good book.
Carrie locked the front door behind her when her cell phone started to ring. She groaned, sure it was Dennis from the office. Seemed there was always one last thing to tell her about some project or other. But the number on the phone display was not Dennis, in fact it wasn't recognizable to her at all. Curious, she answered it anyway.
"Carrie?"
"Speaking."
"It's Grey Andrews."
"Oh, hi."
"Have you heard from Paul yet?"
"Haven't but it's only a few days since you gave him the manuscript."
"I'll call him. He shouldn't keep you waiting."
"That's nice of you. Thanks," she said, moving to hang up the phone.
"Wait! Wait!"
"Something else?"
"I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me and go to the ballet on Tuesday night?"
A date?
"Is this business?"
"A date, actually."
"Oh…I'd love to. How did you know I liked the ballet?"
"I believe you made reference to it at our dinner last week," he said.
Wow! A man who listens.
"You'll have to pick me up at work, or I can meet you at the restaurant."
"I'll pick you up. Give me your address and I'll be outside in a car, waiting for you at six o'clock. Does that work for you?"
"That's fine. I have to go back to the office after the ballet…"
"Oh?" She could hear the disappointment in his voice.
"We're having a business crunch and I'm working long hours. I just walked in the door when you called."
"I'm glad you can carve out the time to come with me."
"Me, too. See you then."
"Goodnight, Carrie, pleasant dreams."
Carrie hung up the phone and plopped down on the sofa. She couldn't have been more surprised if she'd won the lottery. So Grey Andrews isn't gay and he felt the chemistry as much as I did.. Called less than a week after our date. Hmm. Could be interesting.
She got undressed, slipped into bed and fell asleep thinking about Grey.
****
"You're leaving?" Dennis asked her.
"I have a date, Dennis."
"But we have so much work to do…"
"Not tonight. I'm going out. I'll work on it at home, better yet, I'll come back after the date," she said, packing papers into her briefcase.
"Joe's not gonna like this," he warned.
"Tough. I've got a life, too."
"Had a life, Carrie, had."
"Speak for yourself," she said, pushing by him to get to the elevator.
Carrie was wearing an aqua silk dress, cut low and fitted at the waist that brought out the blue of her eyes. The skirt was full but soft and clung to her hips and thighs. The air was cool for August so she had a lightweight jacket thrown over her shoulders. When she hit the street, Grey stepped out of a black limousine and held the door open. When he looked at her, his gaze felt like the caress of a warm hand sliding gently down her body.
"You look beautiful," he said, holding the door for her.
She smiled at him, watching his eyes, pleased to see the light of desire spark there when he looked at her. He was wearing a charcoal Grey business suit with a blue shirt and a black knit tie. Flecks of green in his eyes glittered when they looked at her. He took her hand, sending shivers up her arm, and helped her in the car then eased his six foot one inch frame in next to her. Their shoulders and thighs touched, making Carrie tingle. Grey gave instructions to the driver then took her hand.
The car stopped at a little French restaurant on Second Avenue called Sans Souci. The tiny place was charming, intimate and romantic inside, with about fifteen small tables, dark turquoise walls and red tablecloths that went all the way to the floor. A table in the corner had been set for two, with one tall candle glowing and a bottle of wine waiting. Grey held out her chair then sat down next to her, instead of across from her.
The Maître d' came by and placed napkins in their laps, and then asked for drink orders.
Carrie shook her head. "Just water, please."
"Are you sure?"
"I have to work after the ballet, so I need to be awake."
"Wine with dinner?"
"Maybe just half…okay one glass," she said.
"Tell me what is keeping you so busy," Grey asked, pouring the wine.
Carrie spent the next ten minutes regaling him about the stress of trying to save the Country Lane Cosmetics account and handle the pressure of new business assignments at the same time. He quietly took her hand and listened attentively.
"What about you? What exactly do you do and how did you get there?"
"Big questions…can't be answered in a few simple sentences. Let's order first."
Carrie ordered coq au vin, Grey, steak au poivre, then he began his tale.
"I worked like a dog for ten years to amass as much money as I could. I was lucky with real estate and other investments, very lucky. Now I'm an investor, a partner in a small company that backs new green ventures…like epublishing."
"That's admirable. Do you work…like a regular job?"
"Not all day everyday anymore. We have a small staff and every quarter we select a company to invest in. The rest of the time we spend researching, interviewing and meeting with principles in new start-up companies. When we have a company we're serious about, work can get intense with long hours and many meetings. I find it exciting helping new companies. We have slow time, too. Sometimes I spend days and days doing nothing but research…"
"Can't imagine you stuck with a computer or a stack of papers and not out talking to people."
"I am a people guy but every business has its downside. Tell me more about you."
"For instance?" she asked.
"Do you cook?"
"For one? Rarely."
"If you were…uh…more than one, would you cook?"
"Depends. Maybe."
"What kind of home life did you have as a kid?"
"My parents were successful. We never wanted for anything, except their time. My parents were always busy, we fended for ourselves…you've heard of latchkey kids?"
"Siblings?"
"A brother. You?"
"A brother and two sisters."
"Oldest?"
"No, second. Have an older sister."
"Close to your family?" she asked.
"Very. You?"
"Not so much. My parents live in Arizona, my brother in Chicago."
"Did you celebrate holidays, have family traditions?"
"Why all the questions? This feels like a job interview
…"
He looked down at the tablecloth and blushed.
"Sounds like an interview for a wife," she continued, her keen eyes searching his face.
"How do you feel about family? Want one? Want kids?" He went on.
"Kids? Absolutely. Home life? Have always wanted to create the one I never had. Hoping to have a Currier & Ives Christmas someday…"she said, rather wistfully.
He grinned.
"And you?" She asked, turning her gaze on him.
"I want it all," he said simply.
"The whole thing? Picket fence 2.3 kids, two-car garage…"
"Kids, Christmas, house…everything…except maybe the white picket fence…with the right woman," he admitted.
"So…is this a job interview for a wife?" She persisted.
He took a sip from his wine glass.
"Getting to know you, that's all. I take a keen interest in all my dates," he said, sidestepping the question.
She eyed him suspiciously when the waiter arrived with their food.
"All your dates? And am I one of many…hundreds…thousands?" she teased.
He laughed. "Right now, you're the one and only." He put down his glass and his gaze met hers.
Good and let's keep it that way. She grinned at him.
****
Grey watched Carrie dig into her food enthusiastically and felt happy he'd invited her. Obviously she needed a good meal. He watched her face while they ate. With her eyes on her food, he could study her without detection. Her oval face had smooth, delicate skin with a slight blush in her cheeks. Her nose was straight and grown-up looking, not one of those baby-face noses sculpted by a plastic surgeon, her chin was strong but feminine. Her honey hair with streaks of light blonde curled slightly around her face softening her look. He was enchanted by her natural beauty.
"This is delicious," she said, her mouth half full.
He laughed. "Take it easy, no need to rush. We have plenty of time."
"I'm starved. Do you want a taste? It's incredible…" she offered.
He nodded. She picked up her knife to slice off a piece for him, but he put his hand down over hers, stopping her.
"Like this, from your mouth," he said, leaning over and gently placing his lips on hers. His tongue barely skimmed the surface of her lower lip, then her upper lip, tasting the sauce still lingering there. Gently his lips coaxed hers open and his tongue dipped in just far enough to share the taste of chicken on hers. She closed her eyes.
Carrie didn't move, except for her chest, which heaved with her rapid breathing, as his tongue took one last gentle swipe over her lips then he sat up.
"Ummm. Delicious," he said, feeling his pulse return to almost normal and a slight tingle in his lips as he sat back in his seat.
As she sat there staring at him, color started at her face and spread all the way down her chest. Grey smiled at her, staring into her eyes as she sat, touching her bottom lip with the tip of her tongue.
"No teasing me, now," Grey whispered, glancing at her tongue. He returned his attention to his own meal, picking up his knife and fork, slicing off a piece of meat and putting it in his mouth.
Grey tried to concentrate on the meal, but his eyes kept seeking hers, his gaze drifted to her cleavage more times than he wanted to admit, even to himself. Watching her lips consume the chicken gave him lustful thoughts. He wanted to touch her in the worst way. Grey was a seasoned single man, one attractive woman should not affect him like this, disrupting a wonderful meal that passed into his stomach totally ignored by his taste buds, which were mentally tasting Carrie instead.
"What?" She asked.
"Like to look at a beautiful woman," he murmured.
She could be it. The one. Just the idea made him nervous with anticipation. Don't jump the gun. You've been close before. But I want it to be her. Delightfully, she was quickly making progress on his list. Her interest in creating a home intrigued him. But could she, would she want to do it on her own? Much about Carrie remained to be seen but he especially looked forward to exploring the last item on the list with her. He obsessed about her sexual appetite, crowding all other thoughts out of his mind. Would they be sexually compatible? It was all he could think about. The trick was not to start exploring that idea while still in the restaurant.
Chewing on the last piece of chicken, she looked at him again and cocked her head.
"Nothing. It is a crime to admire you?"
"It's a little more than admiration, Grey. I feel like your eyes are burning a hole in my…in my…"She blushed.
He simply had to touch her.
"I'll behave," he interrupted, pushing a lock of hair away from her face.
"Good."
Is that a strike against her? She doesn't want to flirt or be sexy with me? We're in a restaurant, maybe she's a private person and if we were alone…maybe she would…
"More wine, Monsieur?" The waiter asked.
Grey shook his head and raised his eyes to hers just in time to catch her looking at his lips. Ah, too soon to call.
They finished dinner and returned to the car which would take them to the ballet. They had twenty-five minutes before curtain time. Grey was out of patience denying his libido. He pulled Carrie into his arms for an ardent kiss. He started slowly, nibbling on her lower lip, while his hand rested on her neck, his thumb feeling her pulse quicken. He worked her mouth with his tongue. Her arms wound around his neck, pulling her closer to him as a soft moan escaped from her mouth. Her response fueled his desire. The more she melted in his arms, the more he wanted her.
The kissing got intense and his hand moved up to her breast. He squeezed gently and she groaned, a little too loudly. The sound brought Grey back to Earth. He removed his hand and sat back. The chauffeur checked in his rearview mirror and blushed.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have taken…have…done that," he breathed, wondering if she could tell he was getting hard.
She nodded, trying to catch her breath, her gaze dropping down to her hands. He leaned over to whisper in her ear, "I find you so attractive…I can't help myself."
She reached up and touched his face, her gaze searching his. He saw disbelief in her eyes and wanted to reassure her.
"This isn't a line to get you into bed. We couldn't tonight even if you wanted to…I know you have to go back to the office after the ballet. I'm not setting you up. I find you…amazing. Is that bad?" He asked.
She pulled him down for a sweet kiss, which he deepened easily. She tasted so good and smelled fresh and sweet, like lilacs. He ripped his mouth from hers and took a nibble of her neck. She closed her eyes and moaned softly as his lips traveled down then back up her neck leaving soft kisses. Before he could make another assault on her mouth, the car came to a stop.
"We're here, sir," the driver said loudly, after clearing his throat.
Grey looked up, almost sorry to see they had arrived at the ballet. He sat back, straightened his tie and jacket while Carrie tried to smooth the wrinkles out of her dress and replenish her lipstick. The driver came around and opened the door.
"Handkerchief," she demanded, extending her hand.
Grey pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to her. She carefully and gently wiped the lipstick from his mouth and cheek, then handed the white cloth back to him. He smiled at her.
He maneuvered Carrie in front of him to hide his erection, hoping it would disappear quickly. His strong reaction puzzled him. He hadn't known Carrie long and though she was beautiful and sexy, his response was more than usual in this situation. His reaction to Carrie stunned him.
They got out of the car with Grey angling Carrie so she was blocking his private parts from view. He relaxed as they walked toward the door, fishing in his breast pocket for the tickets.
"I love the ballet. This will be so relaxing for me," she said, squeezing his arm.
Not so relaxing for me, sitting next to you, wanting to touch you, forced to sit still and keep my hands to myself.
****
Carrie slipped her hand into Grey's, smiling up at him as she walked into the lobby of the theater at Lincoln Center. The fountains spouted water into the air as spotlights made it shine. The three beautiful buildings houses concert, theater and ballet performances, all glass fronted looked glamorous. A sense of anticipation of splendid performances to come was almost palpable. Her face was warm from their passion in the car; in fact her whole body felt tingly and alive. His touch, his lips were like magic and when he put his hand on her breast, she thought she was going to pass out as the fire of her desire seemed to consume her. If their destination had been twenty miles out of town, she knew she would have succumbed to him in the back seat with a stranger at the wheel. How embarrassing, where's your self- control?
Sneaking a sideways peek at him, she was proud to be with such a handsome man. His sandy hair flopping a little over his forehead made him look boyish even though his face was more mature. Still, he was devastating, smooth, sophisticated and sexy as hell. She enjoyed every minute with him.
They settled into their seats and he helped drape her coat around her shoulders, touching her bare skin, sending sparks down her spine. When the lights started to dim, he took her hand in his, lacing his fingers through hers as they sat back to enjoy the show.
Carrie didn't find it as relaxing as she expected. She couldn't seem to get comfortable in her seat, perhaps because Grey was occasionally stroking her palm with his thumb, which kept her in a constant state of subtle arousal. She shifted again and heard the person behind her make a cluck of disapproval. Finally, she smiled at Grey and got up, unable to sit still any longer. Out in the lobby, she pressed her hot face against the cool window, hoping to settle her core.
"Restless?" Asked a voice behind her.
She turned her head to find Grey right behind her and could feel his hands on her waist.
She nodded.
He leaned over and planted a light kiss on her neck. When she turned around, he pulled her to him for a sweet kiss that grew passionate immediately. Reluctantly, she pushed him away.
