Valentine's Dream: Love Changes EverythingSweet SensationMade in Heaven

by Sandra Kitt

  “...arranged beforehand.”

  “Sorry, Brian. Say that again,” Grace instructed, searching for that face that had stirred to life part of her past, giving rise to disturbing and conflicting feelings within her.

  “I said one of the corporate bigwigs wanted to know if the guests could walk through the exhibits on the main floor. I told them it wasn’t possible because there wasn’t adequate security on duty to cover those areas.”

  “Good response, but tell the attendants to keep an eye out, anyway. So far, everything seems to be going well,” Grace commented while she began her slow patrol again. She observed the guests intently, even as she wondered if she’d imagined what she thought she’d seen.

  “We’ve had the usual stuff happen. Spilt drinks and squashed canapés, glasses and plates left all over the place. Somebody got sick near the corridor to Gallery 3, but it’s been cleaned up.”

  “Thanks,” Grace said, giving up her search. She’d made a mistake. “I’ll be outside the rotunda as the guests are directed to dinner. I’ll notify the caterers to begin breaking down the bar as soon as the hall is empty. Is that everything?”

  “Caught a couple who’d sneaked into one of the exhibition halls.”

  “Nothing embarrassing, I hope.”

  Grace watched as a tuxedoed staffer from the communications office maneuvered his way to her, silently indicating a need to talk with her.

  “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 hav
e 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, taking a deep breath. “Look...you’re here for a party. I can’t keep you standing here, and I’m supposed to be working. Please, go back inside and finish dinner. I’ve got things to take care of....”

  “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 his profile, noticing the familiar firm set of his jaw and his unconscious habit of flexing the muscles there. Her gaze went to his hands, curved around the steering wheel. His nails were clean and his fingers were long, tapered and capable. She stared out the windshield at the traffic and the city lights as they sped along. “I’m sorry I was rude to you tonight. I didn’t mean to be, Carter.”

  “Not consciously, maybe. But I don’t think you were particularly happy to see me.”

  “I didn’t expect to see
you. It’s been a long time.”

  “Only seven months.”

  “You came in for a quick meeting before flying over to Germany.”

  “It was also Becca’s birthday. We’re going to go through this every time we see each other.”

  It was a statement, not a question. Grace felt bad that she’d given him the impression that she didn’t want to see him, but she also felt that she’d been put on the defensive.

  “I was working. I was distracted. There was so much going on at the gala, and...”

  “Relax, Grace. Apology accepted, okay?”

  She glared at his profile. “That wasn’t an apology.”

  “Look, I’m going to rewind the tape back to the beginning of the evening, and we’re going to start over.”

  Grace was surprised at how relieved she felt that Carter had adroitly smoothed over the awkwardness. It also annoyed her that he didn’t seem nearly as unsettled as she felt.

  “If you want,” she agreed.

  “You first,” Carter said, giving her a brief glance.

  “Carter! It’s so great to see you,” Grace exclaimed with exaggerated excitement. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be in New York? I would have baked a cake.”

  He grimaced and shook his head. “Be careful. Don’t overdo it.”

  Grace stared ahead. “I’m being real now. I was shocked to suddenly see you. And it is nice to see you. Honest.”

  He chuckled, his wide smile showing white, even teeth, and his eyes almost squinting in amusement. “Okay. I’ll accept that. Sorry I didn’t let you know I was coming, but I didn’t find out myself until early this morning.”

  “Why so last minute?”

  “Actually, not so last minute. I knew a few days ago that the firm was offering me a new position that would mean moving to New York.”

  “Oh.”

  “There was a lot to consider. Do I want to move to the city?”