The Marriage List (9 page)

"No, no, I believe you," Carrie said, raising
her hands up.

"Good."

"So what were all those one-word answers
about?"

"Jenna being nosy, that's all."

"Nosy about what?" Carrie slid onto the bed
and sat cross-legged.

Grey hesitated and looked down at his hands,
then up into Carrie's eyes.

"About you," he admitted.

"Me? Jenna knows about me? Why? How? Me?
Really?" Carrie sat up straight on the bed and coughed twice.

He nodded.

She blushed and clammed up. There was a heavy
silence in the room.

"Your family knows about me?" She
repeated.

"Should you be a deep, dark secret?"

"I guess not."

"I'm close with my family. We talk…often. Is
that a problem? You never talk about men you're dating with your
family or friends?"

"I didn't say that."

"Oh…so you
do
talk about men. Do you
talk about me?"

She shook her head, then stopped.

"Well, maybe I've mentioned you to my
aunt…once or twice and my friend Rosie at the office."

"And I've mentioned you to Jenna. We're
even."

"Why?"

Grey stepped closer to her again, pulling her
up off the bed and into his arms.

"Because you're special, Carrie," he
confessed, closing his eyes.

****

Carrie smiled at him, then disappeared into
the bathroom. Grey went in when she came out. He opened the door to
find her already in bed and the lights low. He slipped in beside
her naked body and curled up behind her, spooning her.

"I checked my phone while you were in the
bathroom."

"Any important calls you missed while we were
making love?" He whispered, kissing her shoulder.

"A text."

"Oh?" He asked, sitting up and looking at
her.

"From Paul Marcel. He wants to publish my
book."

"That's fantastic! Congratulations, Carrie,"
He said, leaning down to kiss her.

"You didn't have anything to do with it, did
you?" She asked, rolling over to face him.

"Me? No way. It's business. No matter how
much I like you, I can't influence editorial choices, which books
to publish. Those decisions are strictly Paul's. He wouldn't offer
a contract unless he thinks the book will sell well...I'm proud of
you."

She smiled at him. He resumed his position
cuddled up against her. She turned to kiss him goodnight, then he
wrapped his arms around her and they drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Ten

They were inseparable from the first night
they slept together. He stayed the next day and they made love
three more times. By the next weekend, they had been together three
out of five nights. Grey settled his own toothbrush in Carrie's
bathroom and she came home from working late to a hot meal, his
warm companionship and one of Grey's expert foot massages.

It was a Tuesday, a slow day for Grey. He
stopped at Zabar's on the way to Carrie's apartment. A pleasant
day, he took his time walking, passing the quirky second-hand,
hard-to-find books, Filene's Basement and several small shops plus
a deli on his way to 78
^th
Street.

He rounded the corner to her apartment, his
arms loaded down with goodies from Zabar's, cold poached salmon,
huge cooked gulf shrimp with cocktail sauce, grilled vegetables and
a small David's cheesecake for dessert. He climbed the stairs
whistling "I Can't Smile Without You", a big grin on his face. When
he put the groceries down and put his hand on the knob, the door
swung part-way open. Startled, Grey stepped back, dropped his
packages and prepared to do battle with an intruder.

When he didn't hear anything, he poked at the
door with his finger, standing back alert and ready to have someone
lunge at him when a voice came out of the apartment. A female
voice.

"Put your hands above your head or I'll
shoot!"

Grey did as the voice commanded and stepped
slowly over the threshold, his eyes scanning the room. In the
corner by the open window facing on the fire escape, poised for a
quick exit was an attractive woman in her mid-fifties. She had dark
auburn hair in a short stylish hairdo. Artfully applied make-up
made her appear about five years younger. She was dressed
expensively and in excellent taste, wearing an Armani silk dress in
a light chocolate brown print, complimenting her fair complexion.
Her long fingernails were painted a dark pink and her high heels
were deep brown snakeskin. She held a can of mace trained on Grey.
Though her hand shook slightly, she stood firmly rooted to her
spot.

"I mean it!" She straightened out her arm,
directing the sprayer at his eyes.

"I don't doubt you. I'm terrified. Do I look
like a burglar?" Grey tried to keep the smirk off his face.

"Most of the men I know who wear Brooks
Brothers don't break into apartments, but you never know," she
said, not moving from her spot.

"May I ask who you are?" He asked, lowering
his arms until she motioned for him to raise them again waving the
can of mace at him.

"I'm Delia Tucker, Carrie's aunt. But the
question is who are you?"

"I'm Grey Andrews, her…ah…uh…boyfriend," he
said, grimacing at the inadequate word.

"You're her new lover, aren't you?" A slow
smile swept over Delia's face.

Grey blushed at the intimate term and nodded.
Delia lowered her weapon.

"I guess you're okay," she said, capping the
small can of mace and returning it to her Gucci handbag.

Grey returned to the hall to retrieve the
bags of food then walked back into the apartment and closed the
door. When he turned around, Delia was staring at him.

"Hmmm, Brooks Brothers jacket and pants,
maybe L.L. Bean shirt? Gucci loafers, I'd know those anywhere," she
said, moving to one of the love seats and sitting down.

"Excuse me a moment," Grey said, retreating
to the kitchen to unpack the food and put it away.

Delia sauntered up to the kitchen
counter.

"While you're there, do you know how to make
a Cosmo?" she asked, lifting her heavily-mascara'd eyelashes up to
widen her eyes.

"I do. Does Carrie have the fixin's?"

"Probably not, this cabinet is too small to
hold much," Delia said, rummaging through Carrie's liquor
supply.

"Can I make you something else?" Grey asked,
pulling down two highball glasses.

"It's warm…how about a vodka and tonic. Does
she have lime?"

"She does. Bought it yesterday. Vodka and
tonic is my poison, too." Grey opened the refrigerator and plucked
out a lime.

Delia stepped back to allow Grey access. He
pulled out the necessary bottles and cracked some ice from a tray.
In five minutes, he handed Delia a frosty glass and motioned her
back to the living room.

"Delia… Carrie has mentioned you but hasn't
told me much…"

"Maybe that's because you two don't spend
much time talking," she smirked.

Grey looked at his drink as warmth crept up
his neck.

"Come on…family here. Just teasing! She's
told me a lot about you. I'm her aunt, was married to her uncle,
the late Jackson Tucker for twenty-two years. I've been a widow for
five years." Delia's eyes misted and she directed her gaze out the
window.

"I'm sorry."

"I've been in the fashion business all my
life. Had a wonderful marriage but never had kids. Now I have
Carrie. She may be my niece, but she's more like a daughter to
me…especially since her parents are so far away."

"I'm glad she has some family close by…"

"And I want to tell you…if you break her
heart…if you mess with her, you mess with me, too," Delia said, her
eyes flashed at him.

Grey laughed so hard he almost dropped his
drink.

"What makes you think I'm going to break her
heart?"

"You're a man, aren't you?" Delia narrowed
her eyes.

"Ouch!"

"Maybe that was a tad extreme but I'm very
fond of Carrie. She's quite a gal."

"She is. She's amazing!" He took another sip
of his drink, keeping his eyes on Delia.

"So why are you here at this hour and what
did you bring her?" she asked, crossing her long legs.

"I brought food like I do most nights these
days. You're welcome to stay and join us…do you like cold salmon
and shrimp?"

"Yum, I certainly do! I saw the Zabar's bag.
Do you always bring her food?"

"She's working extra hard on a special
project at the agency. I get out early unless I have a deal
pending…so I'm feeding her," he explained, finishing his drink.

"Isn't she lucky to have you! I'd love to
stay and share dinner, but then I'm off. I have an art gallery
opening to attend. I was going to try to take Carrie with me…she's
been working too hard. But I'm sure she'd much rather stay here
with you."

"Maybe she should go…" he began, trying to be
diplomatic.

"Nonsense. She'll have a better time here
with you. I hear you give one helluva foot massage," Delia said,
opening her eyes fully to stare at him.

Grey covered his embarrassment by rising up
to take his glass to the sink.

"Another drink?" he asked her, purposely
ignoring her remark.

"There'll be alcohol at the opening. One's
enough," she said, downing the rest and leaning over to hand him
the glass.

Grey looked at his watch.

"Carrie should be home in half an hour. Just
enough time to clean up and get everything set," he said, pulling
down some plates from the cabinet and bringing them to Carrie's
tiny dining table.

"You really do have dinner ready for her,
don't you?"

"Yup."

Delia got up and moved toward the
kitchen.

"Let me get the placemats down," she
said.

****

At eight fifteen, Carrie turned the knob on
her apartment door and walked in to a surprise, seeing her aunt and
Grey talking and laughing like old friends.

"I must be going…" Delia said, looking at her
Movado watch.

"I thought you were staying. We set the table
for three." Grey put his hand on her arm.

"Three's a crowd."

"Stay, Delia. I never get to see you," Carrie
said, stealing a glance at Grey.

"Please do. Come on. I mean it." Grey
insisted, pulling her back into the apartment by her elbow.

"Well, you twisted my arm," Delia said
grinning broadly as she headed for the loveseat. "And there might
be time for one more itty bitty drink."

Chapter Eleven

Grey got into his office early to go through
his mail. He hadn't been working very hard. Tomorrow was November
first and they wouldn't be deciding on new ventures until January.
So research continued but he could slack off some. His partner,
John Whitaker, and John's wife, Renee, always went to the Caribbean
for the month of December anyway. Then the first two weeks of
January were frantic with Max and Susan presenting their research,
John and Grey digesting it all and making decisions on which
companies to approach.

But now, now he had time for Carrie. So he
enjoyed himself, taking care of her and his spirits soared. He sat
back in his chair. Opened his Starbucks coffee and perused the mail
piled up on his desk. One envelope he picked up was thick and
heavy. An invitation.

He ripped it open to discover his annual
invitation to a fund-raising event at the American Museum of
Natural History. Grey was on the board of a charitable foundation
he started with his three college best friends. They called it The
Four Horseman Foundation. Each member had to kick in $100,000 when
he became a trustee. Then every year a donation of $20,000 to the
foundation was expected. Grey invested the money and each year they
paid out $40,000 to various charities. So all the non-profits
invited them to their fund-raisers.

The one at the Natural History Museum was his
favorite and the only one all four horsemen always attended. He
slapped the invitation against his hand, lost in thought. What a
perfect place for Carrie to meet his friends without it being
formal. He smiled at his plan. Perfect. When Susan came in, he
called her into his office.

"I want to RSVP to this invite from the
Museum. I know it's after the deadline but…"

"I already did, Mr. Andrews."

"You did?"

"You always go to that event, so I naturally
assumed you would this year, too. Since you're been
so…uh…preoccupied with other things, I took it upon myself to sign
you up...with a guest. I assume you're taking Ms. Tucker?"

"That's the plan. Such foresight should earn
you a raise, Susan," Grey commented, chuckling.

"Can I quote you on that?" she retorted,
smiling.

Susan left his office and Grey picked up the
phone to dial Carrie.

"There's a great party at the Museum of
Natural History tomorrow night. It's a fund-raiser they have every
year. Do you think you can make it?"

"Tomorrow, Wednesday, huh? Let me see."

There was silence on the phone for a few
minutes.

"Is it okay if I don't get there until eight
o'clock or so?"

"Sure. Tell me when you can come and I'll
send a car for you. You can meet me there."

"Works for me. Let me go and see if I can
sweet-talk, Dennis. Later, babe."

Grey pushed back in his chair, put his feet
on his desk and stared out the window.
Does life get any better
than this?

****

Grey was walking on air. Carrie hungered for
him as much as he did for her, making her mastery of his list
complete. He couldn't get enough of her. Waiting so long to find
the right woman had been agony and now he had her, he wanted to be
with her every night. Evenings during the week, he'd leave work at
six to go to her apartment and make dinner, or bring food in. When
Carrie returned much later in the evening, he was there to massage
her feet, feed her and make love to her. His heart leapt every time
the weary expression on her face changed to a warm smile when she
opened the door and was greeted by his kiss.