Valentine’s Day can be a time of wonderful surprises, even for those who aren’t looking for love. Delight in these charming classic stories of unexpected romance, passion and desire.

Love Changes Everything by Sandra Kitt

Carter Morrison is a changed man. Grace Haley never imagined that her late husband’s best friend would turn into the improved man she now sees. And when he asks her for a little Valentine’s Day advice, she’ll discover a longing deep in her heart.…

Sweet Sensation by Carmen Green

Nessie Claiborne only wants to make her firm’s annual Valentine’s Day charity extravaganza a success. But the moment she tries to work with handsome, sensible executive Craig DuPont, she finds her impractical ideas and his hidden longings are producing a love affair neither expected.

Made in Heaven by Felicia Mason

Val Sanders doesn’t believe in romance or love at first sight. Then she receives a gift certificate for a dating service and meets Eric Fitzgerald, the sexy bachelor owner. Has Eros loosed an arrow…one headed straight for Val’s heart?

Valentine’s Dream

Sandra Kitt

Carmen Green

Felicia Mason

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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CONTENTS

LOVE CHANGES EVERYTHING

SWEET SENSATION

MADE IN HEAVEN

Love Changes Everything

Sandra Kitt

To my late father, Archie Benjamin Kitt,

who gave me my first box of Valentine candy,

taught me to dance as I stood on his feet,

and nicknamed me Lady.

Thanks and gratitude to my agent, Lisa Erbach Vance,

for her amazing support and guidance.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Prologue

“We’re taking off, bro.”

Carter Morrison, who’d been quietly observing the poised woman in conversation on the other side of the room, turned at the announcement to find two men and a woman waiting to say goodbye. He’d met them before, years earlier, and knew them by name. They were colleagues of his best friend, Benson Haley.

“Gotta get back to work,” the second man said apologetically.

“Hey, glad you could make it. Sorry we had to meet up again under these circumstances,” Carter said, shaking the hands offered to him by the two men.

“This is rough, but Grace seems to be holding up,” the first man observed.

“She’ll be fine,” Carter said confidently.

“Benson was a great guy,” the second man added. “I didn’t know what to say. Wish her well. You know.”

“I still can’t believe he’s gone,” said the woman, shaking her head in disbelief. “One minute he’s making all kinds of plans for the mayor this fall, and then he just—”

“It’s a tough thing to say, but the mayor is going to fill Benson’s spot and move right on,” Carter cut in quietly, not wanting to hear again the blunt way in which his friend’s sudden death was being described.

Benson Haley had dropped dead at the feet of three reporters while making a statement on behalf of his boss, the mayor.

“I know you’re right, my man, but it’s not going to be so easy for Grace. She’s got two young kids, a house, a mother-in-law. Damn,” the first man muttered and then looked shame-faced at his blasphemy. “They hadn’t been married all that long, right?”

“Five years,” Carter replied.

“Well, at least they had that. Hardly anyone stays together that long anymore,” the woman commented. She then caught the gaze of one of her companions, who silently signaled her not to go there.

Carter didn’t have to watch the exchange to know where the remark was coming from. The innuendo was not unreasonable, but it was off base. He’d heard some of the rumors that the deceased had stepped out once or twice on his wife but didn’t know if they were true or not. Nonetheless, the thought caused Carter to shift his attention and covertly scan the room. He spotted the object of their discussion, Benson’s widow, Grace, standing near an occasional table that was top heavy with an extravagant floral arrangement from the mayor himself. Appearing serene, if a bit tired, she was listening and smiling benignly at the emotional testimony of her late husband’s assistant.

“Benson said something recently about you moving back to New York from...”

“Chicago,” Carter responded, bringing his gaze around to the trio, watching as they searched for and found the tickets to retrieve their coats on their way out of the midtown club. “Not just yet. I’m doing some important work there, for the moment.”

The first man chortled. “Chicago? Too damn cold,” he said, once again catching his irreverence too late.

“Maybe he has family there,” the woman suggested to her companion.

“I don’t,” Carter corrected. “I just can’t make a move right now.”

“Give me a call when you come back,” said the woman, smiling at Carter coyly. “Let’s get together.”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” one of the men added.

Carter watched until all three had left the salon before turning to look for Grace once more, Benson’s former coworkers immediately forgotten.

She was shaking the hand of a relative from Benson’s side of the family and kissing another, who was also preparing to leave. Then a couple, neighbors from the Westchester enclave where Grace and Benson lived, approached, waiting for Grace’s attention. Carter silently monitored the interaction and her response. While Grace appeared sad and pensive—even numb with grief, which was perfectly understandable—it was hard for him to tell how she was really doing under the strain of the past week.

He tried to imagine what it must have been like getting the call that notified Grace of her husband’s collapse while at work and then rushing to the hospital an hour later, only to be told he was already gone. Carter wondered how she’d felt learning that Benson had died almost instantly, felled by an aneurysm, even before the call to her had been placed. Afterward, she would have had the terrible task of calling her mother-in-law, Marjorie, to tell her that her only child, her beloved, handsome and brilliant son, was dead. And there was Grace herself. How was she doing?

Carter looked at the time and checked out the remaining guests. He saw Grace’s father, Ward Mathison, chatting and laughing with several former classmates of both Benson and Grace from NYU, where they’d gotten their undergraduate degrees, and where they’d met. Ward caught his gaze and nodded briefly, continuing with his conversation. Carter paced along the side of the room, thinking that he should leave as well. He guessed that after a week of ceremony, testimony, tears and the prevailing shock that hovered over everyone, Grace probably just wanted to be alone.

Grace’s simple two-piece black ensemble made her look elegant and slender, and offset her tan complexion. Her only makeup, lipstick, had worn off during the past few hours. Her hair, which was as long as when he’d first met her five years earlier, was brushed back from her face and rolled into a neat twisted knot at the back of her head. She wore no other jewelry besides her engagement and wedding rings, and both sparkled on her left hand, an ever-present reminder. She had been appropriately named, Carter thought, as she gracefully handled everyone else’s surprise, grief and memories. What would she do with her own?

Carter raised his gaze to Grace’s face to find her studying him as well. He looked for signs of distress but saw only wide-eyed bewilderment, a kind of stunned appeal. Their mutual regard narrowed the distance between them across the salon, but only for a few seconds as someone else claimed her. He watched as Grace sat with the guest, patiently attentive while they expressed their condolences about her husband.

Carter stood alone. He knew he should be leaving. He wasn’t sure what more he could do here now that the memorial service was over. But something kept him slowly circulating around the room, reluctant to say goodbye. He looked around for Benson’s mother, Marjorie. Not seeing her, he was sure that she was sitting alone somewhere, closeted with her pain. He’d always liked Marjorie. Perhaps she was a little too devoted and maternal, a bit too much the stage mother to an ambitious son, but Carter admired what she’d managed as a single parent. She’d raised a son and kept him out of the seductive clutches of street life and away from other bad influences.

Suddenly, Carter saw Marjorie emerge through a door that he thought led to a small library in the vast complex of the club. She was blowing her nose in a wad of tissues balled in her hand. A stout woman of average height and in her sixties, Marjorie was considered a pretty and curvaceous woman in her youth. She had given her life to nurturing her only child and with him gone, Carter knew Marjorie had aged virtually overnight. She straightened her back, but her shoulders were still curved from the weight of her loss. The perfect hairdo of her stylish wig was the only thing about Marjorie that was not in disarray.

“Can I get you anything?” Carter asked, placing a solicitous hand on Marjorie’s back and bending slightly toward her.

“All that food going to waste. It’s a shame, but I really couldn’t eat a thing,” Marjorie said, looking distressed at the very idea.

“Why don’t you sit down? I’ll get you something to drink. How about hot tea?”

Marjorie nodded and gave her consent with an absent gesture of her hand.

Carter walked silently across the carpeted floor. The room seemed so much bigger now that most of the guests had left. On his way, he once again searched out Grace. Finding her, he could see the first signs that the long afternoon, indeed the past ten days, was taking its toll. He could detect strain between her eyes and a tightening of her mouth, which prohibited a natural smile. She was absently twisting her wedding ring round and round her finger, sliding it up to the knuckle before pushing it back into place. Halfway across the room, Carter hesitated a moment before continuing. At the console table, which was laden with light refreshments, Carter poured hot water and made a cup of tea for Marjorie Haley. He carefully carried it back to her. After a moment’s hesitation, he took a seat by her side.

“Thank you, Carter,” she murmured. Her voice was hoarse and deep from crying. “I appreciate that you stayed to help with everything.”

Carter took her hand. “Benson was my best friend. He knew I’d do anything for him. I’m sorry that it came down to this.”

“Yes,” Marjorie said, her voice warbling and her hand trembling around the cup of tea.

“You’re going to be fine,” he soothed.

Marjorie raised her head proudly, her eyes red and watery and filled with despair. “The good Lord willing. He saw fit to take my child, but I’m blessed to have Madison and Becca. I don’t know what I’d do without my grandbabies.”

“And Grace,” Carter added, watching the older woman. “You know she’ll be there for you always.”

“We’ll see,” Marjorie said cryptically.

“I wish there was something more I could say to you besides I’m sorry. Benson was a good man, and he did you proud.”

“He could have become a judge one day,” Marjorie prophesied. “Maybe a senator.”

“Maybe.” He glanced around. There were only a handful of people left, but Grace was nowhere in sight. He stood up. “Will you be all right for a while? I’m going to check to make sure that everything’s taken care of.”

Marjorie silently nodded as she sipped her tea.

Carter headed to the same room that Marjorie had appeared from, but it was empty, as were the two small alcoves next to the fireplace. He proceeded through a passageway leading to a series of rooms. One was being used as a staging area for the preparation of the refreshments for Benson’s memorial service. A second room housed a photocopier, fax machine and several cartons of paper. The door of the third room opened, and a man stepped out, closing it behind him. He was carrying a sheaf of documents as he walked toward Carter.

“Yes?” the man inquired, raising his brows and blocking Carter’s way.

“I’m looking for Mrs. Haley,” Carter responded.

“She’s in my office, but I don’t think she wants to see anyone just now. It’s been an emotional day.”

“Yes, it has. I’m a close friend of the family. I want to make sure she’s all right.”

“She seemed a little weary so I gave her my office for some privacy. Can I help you with anything?”

Carter was amused that the man, in his own way, was being protective of Grace by running interference. “I’m just going to let her know I’m leaving.”

The man finally acquiesced and stepped aside. Carter waited until he had gone before reaching for the door. From within the room came the low but distinct sound of Grace crying. For a moment Carter considered leaving, weighed down with the feelings of loss, even his own. But as the sounds became more plaintive and heartbreaking, he went against what was perhaps the best thing to do under the circumstances. He opened the door and quietly slipped inside.

Grace was sitting, ironically, on a love seat positioned next to the door. She was hunched forward with her elbows on her knees, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed into a tissue. It was pressed against her mouth, held in place by both hands. Her eyes were closed, but tears leaked beneath the lids to trail down her cheeks and through her fingers. For a moment Carter could do nothing but watch helplessly, mesmerized and miserable as he bore witness to what she was going through.

His jaw and throat tightened, and he felt a sudden anger that took him by surprise. He stood in front of Grace and squatted down on his haunches. He was so close to her that he could see the veins in her temple, filled with the coursing blood of stress and emotion. He could smell the faint but fragrant scent of her perfume. The tissue she held was sodden. Carter looked around for a box of Kleenex and placed it next to her on the sofa. He pulled several fresh ones from the top and carefully touched Grace’s hand to give them to her.

She jumped, her crying abruptly cut off as she opened her eyes, startled to find him there. Carter put his hands on her arms, gently rubbing them to calm her. She stared at him, her eyes wide, slightly red, and watery.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” Carter said softly. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Grace suddenly got up from the sofa, stumbling away to stand next to a massive oak desk. Her chin trembled, and her eyes filled with fresh tears. “I’m not okay,” she said tightly.

Carter stood up. “I’m sorry,” he said, feeling foolish. She began crying again. “I know this is hard for you, Grace. Benson was a great guy....” She turned away from him. “I wish there was something I could do....”

With a great wrenching sob, Grace turned and looked at Carter. The expression on her face was more than he could stand. He barely had time to think about what he was doing before he opened his arms. Grace stepped into them and allowed him to hold her. Her crying was quiet now, but just as intense and poignant. Carter applied everything he could think of to comfort her. He slowly rocked back and forth. He softly murmured sympathetic but unintelligible words. He rubbed a comforting circle on her back. He closed his eyes, fully experiencing the weight of her in his arms. He pressed her face to his chest, absorbing her anguish as he fought his own.

“You loved him very much, didn’t you?” he found himself asking, holding his breath as he awaited an answer.

There was no response from Grace beyond her turning her head to rest a cheek against his jaw. The warm fanning of her breath was against his neck. That was, oddly, enough for Carter.

Neither of them heard the office door quietly open and then close a moment later.

Chapter 1

“Grace, it’s Brian. Come in.”

“Yes, Brian. I’m here.”

“I thought I’d let you know what’s going on. We have a few problems.”

Grace Haley moved slowly and unnoticed on the periphery of the crowded party as she answered the call on her walkie-talkie. She was on duty at the evening gala, overseeing the arrangements and details, while three hundred formally dressed guests were occupied with boisterous conversation and laughter. Their collective joie de vivre was fueled by several open bar stations, as well as unlimited glasses of champagne being served by a circulating waitstaff. The din was so loud that the music of the quartet playing at one end of the hall could barely be heard. Grace pressed her earphone tightly to hear above the noise.

“Go ahead,” she said, talking as discreetly as she could, hoping not to draw attention to herself.

“The ladies’ room outside the hall is out. I’ll have to close it off until maintenance can deal with a malfunctioning stall.”

“Get a sign up as soon as you can. We’ll reassign the men’s room to the ladies for the rest of the night and direct the men to the lower-level restrooms.”

“Okay.”

“And let the attendants on duty know ASAP about the change so they can inform guests looking for the facilities.”

“I’ve already notified the supervisor...”

Grace positioned herself in the shadow of the Ionic pillars just inside the entranceway to the hall, where a meet-and-greet reception was being held for employees and guests of a large financial institution. She’d passed by several times, checking out the arriving guests. She was familiar with the sponsoring company and knew one of the employees from an affiliate office.

From where she stood, she could also take in most of the main hall and the attendees. Her gaze roamed absently over the gathering. In a brief parting of several people across the open space, she suddenly caught a fleeting glimpse of a tall black male guest and did a double take. A sudden stomach spasm signaled recognition. Then she lost sight of him.

“...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 have 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?”

She waited, not hearing any definitive answer. “Did coming to the dinner tonight have anything to do with the offer?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. I flew in early enough to meet my new colleagues, to see my new office, to look over a few apartments I can choose from to lease until I decide on more permanent housing.”

“Oh.”

He started laughing. “Oh? I can’t decide if that means you’re surprised, happy, disappointed or what.”

“It just means oh,” Grace said noncommittally.

“Fine. Anyway, once I knew I was attending the gala, I called your office. They said you were busy getting ready for an event this evening, so at least I knew you’d be on hand. I thought I’d surprise you.”

“Well, you certainly did that,” Grace murmured a little dryly. She glanced at him. “Are you really going to move to New York?”

“Looks like it,” he said, glancing her way again. Silence spread between them for almost a full minute before he spoke again. “Is that going to be a problem?”

Grace shrugged. “Why should it?”

For the rest of the ride to her house, they managed to keep the conversation on the safe topic of his job, which was as financial executive for an international corporate firm. Grace got questioned about her position as events coordinator for a private library, a major step up from working in guest services. They talked about mutual acquaintances and family. About Madison and Becca, her two young children. About Benson. They reached the quiet and orderly suburban community in Westchester, which lay immediately north or the city, in about forty minutes.

“You’ll have to take me to the station. I left my car there this morning.”

Grace gave Carter directions. Her late-model Honda Accord was among only five cars remaining in the commuter lot. She got in and started the engine, and Carter followed closely behind her as she headed home.

They finally reached Grace’s house in a quiet residential neighborhood of spacious detached homes. The raised ranch, which she and Benson had considered their starter home, intending to move once he felt more secure in his position as one of several deputies in the mayor’s office, was on a quarter-acre lot set back from the street. It had a modest circular drive and was landscaped with several trees that provided a natural but subtle screen from passing vehicular and pedestrian traffic. There was still quite a bit of snow around the property.

Grace turned into her driveway, and Carter pulled in behind her, turning off his engine. She thought that he would get out of his car to say good-night, and when he didn’t, she climbed inside instead. Immediately, the suburban stillness closed in around them. The warmth from the car heater began to quickly dissipate.

Grace wasn’t sure why, but she waited for Carter to say something first.

“Before I forget, I have something for you,” Carter said. He reached behind her seat and grabbed a small, gold-toned shopping bag with red-and-gold ribbons tied to the handles. He set it in her lap.

Grace stared at the bag without touching it. She felt a peculiar sensation, a cross between surprise at the unexpected gift...and suspicion.

“What is it?”

“It’s the goody bag the company prepared for all the guests. I took one for you.”

She looked at him and half smiled in exasperation. “First Carmen and now you?”

“Who’s Carmen?”

“Oh...never mind. Why are you giving this to me?” Grace asked, poking through the red tissue paper to look inside.

“Because there won’t be a thing in the bag that I want or can use. The goody bags are for the women guests. It’s yours.”

“Thank you. But isn’t there someone else you can give it to?” she asked.

Carter shifted in his seat so that he could fully face her. His gaze was thoughtful, but also faintly amused.

“Is that your way of asking whether I’m seeing anyone?”

Grace turned her head away in a haughty manner. “I wasn’t trying to be nosy.”

“There is someone I’m interested in. The relationship is still new, but I have high hopes,” Carter explained.

“Well. That’s nice,” Grace murmured, checking to make sure she had all her things. Taking her house keys from her purse, she added, “You never liked any of the women Benson tried to set you up with.”

“Benson had no idea what kind of woman I want.”

“He could be opinionated, but I know he meant well.”

“I know he meant well, too,” Carter agreed.

Grace realized she was waiting for Carter to elaborate on who he might be dating. He changed the subject instead.

“Tell me about the kids. How are they?”

She suspected this was a diversionary tactic so she’d stop tiptoeing around the issue of his personal life. She sighed in resignation. “Good. Becca is—”

“Going to be a heartbreaker.” Carter chuckled.

“My father says the same thing. Of course, she’s got him wrapped around her finger. Madison is going to be tall, like Benson.”

It was a natural comparison, but Grace felt awkward saying so. Carter never missed a beat and didn’t appear to find the reference uncomfortable.

“I bet he’s a handful.”

“Sometimes. He’s got more energy than he knows what to do with. Definitely all boy.”

“Do you think I could see them while I’m here? They probably won’t remember who I am.”

“I think they might. You must have promised Madison you’d take him to a basketball game, because he talks about it now and then.”

“I’d like to keep that promise.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Grace demurred. She played idly with the gold ribbons on the gift bag. “I owe you an apology.”

“Why?”

“I never thanked you for sending Becca that sweet Valentine’s Day candy last February. Or that little stuffed lamb for her birthday. She’s very attached to it. It’s filthy—” she broke out into a rich laugh “—but I’m afraid to wash it. She might throw a fit.”

“Then I wouldn’t if I were you.”

She glanced at him openly. “And I never thanked you for the flowers and candy you sent me, either. It was very thoughtful, Carter.”

He shrugged, embarrassed. “No need to thank me. I hope you enjoyed everything.”

“I loved the flowers. Never got any of the candy. The kids beat me to it.”

Carter laughed again. For some reason, it made Grace feel good that she could make him laugh. Carter had always struck her in the past as too serious.

“I guess I’ll have to do something different this year.”

“Don’t,” Grace quickly said. “It’s not your responsibility.”

He sat up straight in his seat. “I’m sorry. I forgot that you might be seeing someone.”

“I’m not. At the moment,” she said, quickly qualifying her answer. “The kids and my job take up a lot of my life. That’s not a complaint, by the way.”

He silently nodded. “How’s Marjorie?”

“Marjorie is doing fine. She adores the children, of course. I don’t know what she would have done if her only child had died before making her a grandmother.”

“Do I hear a bit of—”

“No, you don’t. Marjorie can sometimes have a one-track mind, but don’t you think it’s understandable that she misses Benson?”

“What you’re saying is, she hasn’t let him go yet.”

Grace sighed. “Maybe we can’t expect her to. How do you put a time limit on grief?”

“How about you? Do you hold him in your memories?”

She stared straight ahead out the windshield. “I have two children with Benson. Of course I think about him. They remind me every day of my life.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he said quietly.

Grace searched blindly for the door handle. “You know, it’s really late, and I better go in. And you still have to drive back to the city. I appreciate the ride, Carter. It was nice of you to go out of your way.”

He lightly touched her shoulder, and it stayed her as she glanced back at him.

“I’m serious. I’d like to see the kids. Do you think that’s possible? I have to return to Chicago in about a week to wrap up some business and arrange for the move here. Can I see all of you before I go?”

There was an element of appeal in his voice that touched Grace because it came across as sincere. But rather than responding, she found herself weighing the ramifications. She was about to suggest that perhaps getting together should wait for another time, hoping that by then his interest would have waned, when he spoke again.

“How about this coming Saturday?”

She thought about it. In all honesty, there was no reason why he couldn’t visit for a few hours, even though she was reluctant to encourage his sense of responsibility to her children.

“I’ve got a couple of household errands and chores to do in the morning. Madison and Becca have a swim class. Afterward, I’m taking them to a local ice-skating rink. Then I treat them to lunch at the local mall.”

“Why don’t I join you for lunch?”

“If you want,” Grace said in an offhand manner before finally getting out of the car.

She heard the driver’s door close and realized that Carter intended to walk her right up to the front door.

They stood under the entrance light and faced each other. Carter’s gaze seemed to roam her face, taking in all of her features. She tried to ignore the fact that he was staring.

“I know you have to go inside and relieve the babysitter....”

Grace shook her head. “The kids are with Marjorie tonight. She’s very good about volunteering to keep them when I have to work late. I’ll pick them up in the morning and drop them off at school before heading to work.”

He nodded his head to indicate he was listening, but Grace was starting to feel a little uncomfortable under his persistent scrutiny. Finally, Carter broke his trance.

“Sounds like you have a system that works. What do you do when you want or need time to yourself?”

She laughed. “Haven’t you heard? Mommies don’t get time off. We’re not allowed to get sick, either.”

He shook his head sadly. “All work and no play. Gotta do something ’bout that.”

“I’m open to suggestions.”

“I’ll get back to you,” Carter said lightly. “I should let you go in. It’s great to see you again, Grace.”

“Thanks again for the ride.”

Carter slowly raised and opened his arms. There was only a fleeting instant of awkward hesitation before Grace took one tentative step forward into them. Their embrace was loose, brief, not at all romantic but familiar. She patted his shoulder, like she often did with her children when they needed comforting. Carter glided his hand back and forth across her back before they stepped apart.

Again memories of the past came back to Grace, and she felt a brief but heavy sense of guilt. She inhaled the cold air to shake it off.

“I’ll see you Saturday,” he said, returning to his car.

“Good night, Carter. Drive safe.”

“Oh, by the way,” he said, about to climb back into the driver’s seat. “I really like your hair cut short that way. It’s very becoming.”

Grace didn’t respond to the compliment. Benson had liked her hair long, but it was more work that way. Cutting her hair had been one of the first things she’d done once things had settled down after Benson’s death. The new grown-up style was her declaration of independence and break from the past. She saw no point in looking back. She tried to remember that as Carter turned over his car engine.

She turned to unlock her door as he reversed the town car into the street and drove away.

Chapter 2

“Madison, put that book away, and go get your coat. We’re going to be late. Becca, honey, you don’t need any more raisins in your cereal. Eat one more spoonful, and then we have to go,” Grace said firmly to her children, who seemed inclined to dawdle.

“Oh, Grace, do stop fussing at them. You’ll make them nervous,” Marjorie Haley complained in her own maternal nagging tone.

“I asked you to please have them ready by the time I arrived. I have a train to catch,” Grace said, trying not to sound annoyed.

She was standing at the kitchen counter in the home of her mother-in-law, checking her son’s knapsack to make sure all of his school things were inside. She then approached her daughter, removing the nearly empty cereal bowl and instructing her to find her boots and put them on. Marjorie, a pleasant looking late-fiftysomething woman of average height but slightly overweight, was meticulously packing a lunch for each of the kids, which she then put into each of the children’s schoolbags.

“I told you I could take them to school myself, but you kept telling me you want to do it. I think you get the children all mixed up.”

Grace decided not to point out to Marjorie that she was hardly ready to drive Madison and Becca to school since she was still in her bathrobe and nursing a cup of coffee. The only thing already in place was Marjorie’s fashionable wig, one of several she owned in different styles. Instead of arguing, Grace placed Madison’s schoolbag by the front door of the house and bent over to help Becca as the child tried stuffing her tiny foot into her boot.

“I can do it,” Becca told her mother, sitting on the floor to make it easier to pull the boot on.

Grace glanced over to Marjorie. “I know it would have been easier, even made sense. But I wanted to see my kids before they went to school this morning.”

“Do you have to work late again tonight?”

“No, but I don’t like going such a long time without seeing them.”

“I suppose that means you don’t think I know how to take care of my own grandchildren.”

“That’s not what I mean, and that’s not what I said,” Grace corrected calmly. She was holding Becca’s pink parka to help her into it.

“I want to remind you that after my divorce, I raised a son alone. He turned out good enough to attend Harvard. You found him good enough to marry.”

“Mommy, Nana Marj said that if me and Becca come to stay with her, she’s going to take us to see Monsters, Inc., an ice show.”

“When is this?” Grace asked, grateful to Madison for the distraction.

“It’s performing for the next two weeks, but I thought maybe this Saturday,” Marjorie said. “The kids can stay with me for the weekend.”

“Can we?” Madison asked.

“Did you forget we have plans for Saturday?” Grace asked. Madison groaned dramatically, his face scrunched up as he recognized the conflict.

“I wanna go ice-skating,” Becca piped up, not to be left out.

“Can we go with Nana on Sunday?” Madison negotiated.

“We’ll talk about it tonight. Right now, we have to go. Do you have everything?”

“What’s going on on Saturday?” Marjorie asked as she walked Grace and her grandchildren to the door.

“Madison, take Becca and get in the car. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“I thought you said we have to hurry?” Madison protested.

Grace sighed and sent Madison a silent, telling look. Taking the warning to heart, he went to his grandmother, arms outstretched for a perfunctory hug.

“Bye, Nana.”

“Have a good day in school, sweetheart. Come on, Dumplin’. Give Nana a kiss,” Marjorie cooed, bending over to scoop Becca into her arms.

Becca returned the affection but quickly pulled away to run after her brother. “Wait for me!” she whined, dragging her red, blue and yellow schoolbag by a strap, her bright knit hat askew over the four thick cornrows of her slightly curly hair.

“I’ll call you later,” Grace said to her mother-in-law, heading for the door.

“Grace, you can spare five minutes to tell me why I can’t see my grandkids this weekend,” Marjorie complained.

“You make it sound as if I deliberately keep them from you,” Grace said carefully. “You had them for a full weekend two weeks ago. I told you we already have a lot to do. Madison is going to a sleepover on Friday night. Then he, Becca and I are going skating. They’ve been looking forward to that.”

“Then bring them to me in the evening. They can stay until Monday.”

Grace shook her head patiently. “Not this weekend. It’s too much running around for them and me. I do enough of that during the week. Besides, Carter Morrison is in town. He asked to see the kids, and I invited him out for the day,” she finished casually.

“Carter Morrison?” Marjorie repeated. “What’s he doing in New York?”

Graced stared at her, taken aback by Marjorie’s scathing question. “He’s here on business. He happened to attend the corporate event I worked last night. As a matter of fact, he’s gotten some sort of promotion and will probably leave Chicago.”

“Oh, really? I suppose he’s moving here?”

“Why do you say it that way? I thought you liked Carter. I mean, he’s...was Benson’s best friend.”

“Was is right. Carter may be smart and good-looking, but he always thought he was better than my son. He’s very ambitious, and you know what I’m taking about.”

Grace suddenly forgot all about the time. She took a quick look out the window next to the door and saw both children in the back of the car, waiting. Madison had once again buried himself in a book, and Becca had fallen asleep in her car seat.

“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about,” she said, turning back to Marjorie.

“I saw you, you know,” Marjorie drawled in a low, nearly menacing tone.

“What?”

“Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on. I saw you and Carter together after the memorial service for my son. Couldn’t believe my eyes. Benson not in the ground forty-eight hours, and I catch you fooling around with another man.”

Grace felt her heart thudding wildly at the accusation. She swallowed hard as Marjorie’s words drained all of her body heat. She narrowed her gaze on the older woman.

“How dare you say that to me. I wasn’t fooling around with Carter, then or at any other time.”

“I know what I saw,” Marjorie said with equal indignation. “Benson was a good, honest man. He deserves a wife who holds his memory dear. But you couldn’t wait until he was gone to turn to someone else.”

Grace realized that she was squeezing her gloves so tightly in her hands that her fingers were cramping. Her mouth was dry, but when she spoke, her voice had a steely edge to it.

“You’re my children’s only grandmother, and I know you love them very much, so I’m not going to trade insults with you. It’s really none of your business, and I don’t owe you any explanation, but what you saw three years ago was Carter trying to comfort me. I was in Reverend Daniels’s office. He found me crying. I was overwhelmed with the changes that I knew would take place after Benson died. I was scared, and hurt. I...I realized that my daughter will have no memory of her father, and that Madison might soon forget.

“I loved Benson. He was too talented, too smart and much too young to die, but he’s gone. I’m trying to do the best I can for my kids and myself.”

Marjorie stood listening to Grace’s recital with interest, but skepticism was still apparent in her gaze. But by the time Grace had finished, Marjorie’s demeanor had changed. Her shoulders slumped, and she averted her eyes to hide the evidence of tears.

“Benson was my only child,” Marjorie moaned. “My...baby. Lord, not a day goes by that I don’t think about him. I miss him so much. He was my life.”

Grace took another moment to let her tumultuous feelings settle down. She was not unsympathetic to Marjorie’s loss. She sucked in a deep, calming breath and reached out to rub her mother-in-law’s arm. “I know you do.” Grace looked down at the head, with its synthetic hair, bowed in grief, and suddenly felt sorry for Benson’s mother. “Maybe I can bring the children over after Sunday school. I’ll call you later.”

Grace couldn’t stand to see any more of Marjorie’s pain, or to explore the bald assumptions that had been made about herself. There was no time to react fully to the astonishing news that she and Carter had been seen together that afternoon three years ago. The cold morning air gave her a jolt back to the present. Grace resolutely buried that singular memory. She drove away with her children, knowing now that the past was not so easy to let go of after all.

* * *

Grace took a quick glance at Madison, who was already laced up and on the ice with fifteen or so children his age. There were two ice attendants but no rambunctious teenagers to interfere or take over the PeeWee Period on the ice. Assured that he was okay, she bent to tie the laces on Becca’s ice skates. Suddenly, she felt a hand brush her shoulder. She swiveled her head and, in a state of disbelief, saw Carter looming over her. His sudden appearance was disconcerting.

“Carter,” Grace said. She went back to securing her daughter’s skates. She fumbled the laces and had to start over.

“Mommy, hurry up,” Becca complained.

“I’m almost done, honey.”

“I know I’m early, but I wanted to watch the kids skate. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Why should I? How did you find us?” Grace asked, getting to her feet and helping Becca stand on the double-edged training blades.

“I let my fingers do the looking. I searched online and this was the only public rink in the area. Hi, Becca. I’m Carter. Remember me?”

He held out his big hand to the little girl, who, after getting a reassuring nod from her mother, shyly put her hand in his to let Carter gently shake it.

“Hi,” she murmured, pulling free and looking up at her mother. “I want to go skate.”

“All right, but stay close to the side of the rink. I’ll be watching you, okay?”

Grace led her daughter to the entrance gate. She held Becca by both hands as the little girl stepped off the protective rubber matting and immediately lost her balance as her feet slipped out from under her. Grace pulled her upright and held her until she got her footing.

“Mommy, let go. I can do it by myself.”

Grace reluctantly did as she was asked, watching as her baby shuffled along the ice. Becca wasn’t going fast enough to be in any danger, and she was low enough to the ground that if she fell, there’d be minimum damage. Still, Grace hid her anxiety over her daughter’s safety.

“She’s pretty fearless.” Carter chuckled admirably, standing behind her.

Grace didn’t realize he was so close, as she was intent on making sure that Becca was managing. “Frighteningly so.” Grace sighed. “Madison! Keep an eye on Becca!”

“Okay,” he yelled back.

But Madison was involved in a game with several other boys to see who could spin around without falling. Not knowing the correct move, their actions consisted of trying to force their bodies to turn in one big effort, a movement that was unsteady and clumsy.

“I’m not going to look,” Grace murmured as she walked to a bench and sat facing the rink.

Carter laughed quietly but stood alone, watching the children. Assured that her children were doing fine without her, Grace returned her attention to Carter, checking him out. She realized that this was probably the very first time she’d seen Carter dressed down. He had on sturdy Timberland boots, corduroy slacks and a black turtleneck sweater. The rolled collar hugged his neck right up to his jaw and chin, and the stark color seemed particularly bold and attractive on him. Carter was hatless and stood with his leather coat gathered and tucked under one arm. He looked and seemed different. Somehow stronger and more solid than a few nights ago, when he’d materialized formally attired. It was strange to see the difference. But both times Grace recognized in Carter a man who was self-possessed and indomitable.

Watching him, however, she was also reminded of that strained conversation with Marjorie. And it wasn’t as if her mother-in-law was totally wrong, Grace conceded. She and Carter had hugged after the memorial service, although Marjorie’s spin on the situation was pretty nasty. And yet, Grace admitted to herself, there had been a brief moment when she’d wondered, What am I doing? What is Carter thinking?

It was equally disturbing to recall that when Benson had asked her to marry him, he’d said that he couldn’t wait for his best friend to meet his future wife. He’d told her that Carter was straight-up and dependable, worth going to the mat for. It was a very guy thing to say, and she’d found it funny at the time. Now she was finally coming around to seeing exactly what Benson had meant. What he’d said about Carter was true.

Carter turned to find her sitting on the bench. He slowly approached and sat next to her. He glanced at her, with humor brightening his eyes. The rink lights created glare on the lenses of his glasses so that all she could see was his smile.

“I bet your heart leaps into your throat every time you have to let them go off without you.”

“I want them to do things on their own and have fun. But I don’t want them to get hurt.”

“But they will. It’s part of going off without you. Why don’t you join them? Do you skate?”

“Not if I can help it. To be honest, I’m a little afraid that I’m the one who’ll get hurt and then I can’t take care of them. I mean, there is my father or Marjorie, but...”

“I think I’ll join them,” Carter suddenly announced. “Do you mind?”

Before she could tell him that wasn’t necessary, Carter had dumped his coat in her lap and marched off to rent skates. He came back, sat down again and laced up the skates. Afterward, he stood, took off his glasses and silently handed them to her. As he made his way to the entrance gate, Grace was struck by how much taller he was in skates. Gigantic. They made him appear invincible. She also noticed that he stepped onto the ice with amazing confidence, although it was quickly apparent that he moved with the stiff, careful gait of an adult trying to overcome inexperience and lack of control.

Grace got up from the bench to stand closer to the rink so she could observe through the Plexiglas barrier. She was curious and followed Carter’s progress. He seemed to be deliberately headed for her kids. She spotted Madison showing off as he awkwardly skated backward in front of his sister, teasing her, while she scuttled along trying to catch him. Carter caught up to them, stopping to speak. Grace could see Carter reintroducing himself and then holding out his hand to Madison. The boy listened and then looked to her for guidance. Grace raised her hand and waved, signaling her okay.

Madison shook Carter’s hand. In the meantime, Becca, who unable to grab ahold of her brother, had nothing to help steady her as her arms flayed and she fell. Carter, not much more steady himself, nonetheless bent to lift her back to her skates and then released her. Grace raised her brows and grinned. How smart of him not to patronize the kids.

It was hard for her to tell after a while if Carter was really keeping an eye on her children, or was out there having a good time himself. His ease and grace improved considerably with time. Only a few times did he engage Madison and Becca in brief conversation, mostly just leaving them to enjoy skating. Madison fell only once, and Becca several times, once close enough to Carter to wrap her small arms around his leg and pull herself upright.

It was inevitable that Carter himself would end up on his butt. Madison thought it was very funny and laughed merrily at the grown man sitting on the ice, trying to figure out how to get up. Even Grace allowed herself to chuckle. Then she watched in amazement as Madison and Becca each took hold of one of Carter’s hands and actually tried to pull him to his feet. When that didn’t work, Madison turned his back and told Carter to use him for balance. And Carter didn’t hesitate to take the boy up on his offer. Bracing his large hands on Madison’s shoulders, he positioned one foot on the ice and quickly levered himself up, not actually putting any weight on Madison at all.

Grace was not only glad but relieved when Carter indicated that he’d had enough and headed off the ice. Madison and Becca followed him. Madison was sniffling from the cold air of the rink. Becca’s nose was running, and the knees of her jeans were wet from her many falls. Grace gave her attention fully to her children, letting Carter take care of himself.

“Mommy, I only fell down a little bit,” Becca boasted, wiping her nose on her sleeve before she could be stopped.

Madison chortled. “You fell down a lot. I only fell once.”

“You both were great,” Grace complimented them.

“I helped Carter get up. Didn’t I?” Madison said proudly.

“You sure did. You’re pretty strong,” Carter agreed.

“Mommy? Did my father know how to ice-skate?” Madison asked.

Grace glanced briefly at Carter, who was engrossed in pulling off his skates. “No, sweetie, I don’t think he did.”

“Know what, Madison? Your dad was a pretty good soccer player, and he knew his way around a basketball court.”

For just a moment Grace’s gaze met Carter’s. She didn’t have to smile her thanks but knew that he’d gotten her silent message.

Madison thoughtfully considered that before asking, “Are you still going to take me to a basketball game? You promised.”

“Absolutely,” Carter said and nodded smoothly. “I’ll check out the games for the rest of the season, and we’ll set it up, okay?”

“I want to go, too,” Becca complained.

“Mommy, tell her she can’t go,” Madison fussed.

“We’ll talk about this later, Madison. Right now you can do me a favor and return the rental skates.”

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m ready for something to eat,” Carter said as he stood to return his skates and get his boots.

“I’m hungry,” Becca suddenly decided.

“We’re going to the mall for lunch. I want to go to McDonald’s,” Madison called out as he raced to the rental desk.

“No! I want Friendly’s,” Becca piped up in her tiny high voice.

A final decision was postponed until everyone had made a bathroom run and they’d left the rink. Carter followed behind in his town car, which looked so out of place among the SUVs and suburban sedans. The local mall was the zoo that Grace knew it would be on a Saturday afternoon, but it suddenly didn’t seem so bad as she watched with interest the interaction between her children and Carter. What was even more pleasing was that he was effortless and totally comfortable when talking with them, and did not talk down to them. She was pleased with his ability to make both of them laugh; sometimes four-year-old Becca laughed only because Madison did. For the most part, Carter seemed to ignore Grace’s presence. His decision, conscious or otherwise, went a long way toward putting her at ease in his company.

Grace wasn’t sure how Carter managed it, but he successfully, and without a fuss, persuaded the children to have lunch at a café and not a fast food restaurant. Madison and Becca were still able to have hamburgers and fries, and Grace was thrilled to be able to order Oriental Chicken Salad.

A waitress brought the children each a coloring book and small boxes of crayons. They contentedly occupied themselves with coloring after eating their fill, while Grace and Carter talked.

“I saw you fall on the ice,” Grace said.

“Are you going to hold that over me?” Carter asked smoothly, eating a grape tomato from his pasta dish and putting aside the menu he’d been reading, which advertised Valentine’s Day special meals.

“I thought you hurt yourself. I was a little worried.”

His gaze was warm as he regarded her. “I’ll probably feel it later tonight or tomorrow, but I’m okay.”

“I think they like you,” Grace observed honestly. “Madison tends to be a little more reserved. You won him over again pretty fast. Becca is more open and trusting.”

Carter nodded silently, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Then he rested his elbows on the table and thoughtfully stared into his empty bowl.

“Becca reminds me a lot of Benson. Madison is more like you.” He looked steadily at her. “On the other hand, both of them look more like you than their father.”

“I know. Marjorie said once that she wished that at least one of her grandchildren looked like Benson or herself.”

Carter shrugged. “Luck of the draw. It’s all in the genes. They’re beautiful kids, Grace. Nice kids. Benson would have been really pleased about how you’re raising them.”

Grace couldn’t think of how to respond other than to murmur a thank-you and busy herself finishing her Diet Coke. When she next glanced up, she found Carter staring openly at her.

“Do you still miss him?” Carter asked quietly.

Still miss him, Grace repeated to herself. She thought quickly, again remembering the painful conversation she’d had several days before with Marjorie. The question was a minefield, and she trod with caution.

“I’m sorry that he’ll never get to know his children, or they him. Benson had a larger-than-life personality, didn’t he?” she asked rhetorically. “His presence could fill a room, and he was such a natural-born leader. I think he would have been a great success if he’d ever run for office.”

Carter pursed his mouth. “Yeah, he would have. But do you miss him?”

She shifted restlessly. “Benson’s death was so...so unexpected. In a way, I still haven’t adjusted. It’s like my life was stopped short, and it’s taken a while to get it back into gear.” Carter was still waiting for her answer, and she looked squarely at him. “I guess I miss the promise of what we might have been together.”

Nothing in his facial expression changed, and Grace wondered what Carter was thinking. Why did he ask that particular question? Why couldn’t she be straightforward in her answer?

“Are you coming home with us?” Madison asked, gazing up at Carter.

“Are you inviting me?”

“Yeaaaaah,” both children chimed in unison.

“Did you get your mothers’ permission? Maybe she has things to do.”

“Can Carter come to visit for a while?” Madison asked his mother.

“For a playdate?” Grace asked her son.

Madison got the joke and laughed. “Not a playdate. He’s too old. I know how to play chess,” Madison boasted to Carter.

“Really?” Carter said, impressed. “So do I.”

“Me, too,” Becca said, not to be left out.

“No, you don’t. You’re still a baby,” Madison teased.

“No, I’m not,” Becca whined.

Grace intervened. “I know you have something else you probably want to do for the rest of the day, so don’t pay attention to Madison....”

“I’d love to stop by. I think I just got challenged to a game of chess.”

“I wanna play, too,” Becca said.

“Mom, tell her she can’t,” Madison pleaded.

Becca’s whine turned to slow tears.

“Okay, time to leave. They’re getting tired,” Grace said. She slid out of her seat, lifting Becca. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she said to Carter as she and her daughter headed for the ladies’ room.

When Grace returned to the table, Carter had already taken care of the bill. Together they headed in the direction of the parking lot, meandering their way through the mall, which was crowded with shoppers, aimless teens, a plethora of baby strollers and children.

Grace suddenly felt a stilted silence between herself and Carter. And she was very much aware of his physical presence. In a strange, intimate way, he made her more aware of herself. Grace wondered suddenly if she looked attractive in her black stretch pants and white cashmere sweater set. She absently fingered her hair. Was it fluffy and cute like when she’d combed it that morning, or had the cold, breezy air left it a mess?

They slowly followed behind the two children, who seemed to be enjoying the noisy bustle of the mall. Grace was very mindful of the one probing question Carter kept asking her about Benson. She worried that somehow her answer was inadequate. Why hadn’t she been more forthright? And she couldn’t stop herself from replaying in her mind the things Marjorie had said to her. Had she wanted Carter to hold her?

Grace took several more steps before she realized that Carter was no longer beside her. She looked quickly around and spotted him approaching a jeweler’s window to browse the brightly lit display of rings, necklaces and bracelets.

“Madison. Becca. Come over here,” Grace called to her children.

Becca skipped over and squeezed in front of Carter, and then she stood on tiptoe to peer into the showcase.

“I can’t see,” she complained.

Carter obliged by lifting her into his arms. Madison grew bored and walked away to a nearby water fountain. Grace kept an eye on him but joined Becca and Carter at the store window.

“What are you looking for?” she asked.

“It’s that time of year again,” Carter said.

Puzzled, Grace followed his gaze to the cutout red hearts, confetti and curled ribbons, which hit shoppers over the head with the reminder that Valentine’s Day was just around the corner.

“I want that,” Becca said, pointing with a small finger.

“That’s too expensive,” Carter replied, shaking his head.

“What’s she pointing to?” Grace asked, searching the display. She caught Carter’s gaze over the top of Becca’s head. He silently shrugged and raised his brows as if to say, what difference does it make?

Grace grinned and went back to examining the jewelry. She took in all the things a man could give a woman to show his love. Benson had never succumbed to such ploys.

“What do you want for Valentine’s Day?” Carter asked Grace as he set Becca back on her feet. The little girl immediately joined Madison at the water fountain.

“Nothing,” Grace said, waiting until the kids had caught up to her and Carter.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m serious,” Grace said, holding out her hand to her daughter.

“Are you telling me that your husband never did it up right on February 14?”

“He made up for it at Christmas, on our anniversary and on my birthday. That was fine by me,” she said, and it was true.

Still, Grace had a sudden and overwhelming sensation of isolation, almost abandonment. She distinctly recalled her last Valentine’s Day celebration with Benson. It had been three months before he’d suffered a fatal aneurysm. He’d gotten her flowers, and they’d gone out to dinner. But he’d spent the whole evening discussing his problems with the mayor’s staff. He’d taken a cell phone call and texted several messages of his own. It had not been a special night to her at all. But then, she’d always known about his intense focus on his career.

“Why are so you interested in how Benson and I spent Valentine’s Day?” Grace asked Carter.

“Just curious. Last year I wanted to send something to Marjorie. I realized that with Benson gone, there was no one to remember her. So, when I sent flowers to my mother in Virginia, I sent some to Marjorie as well. I know it’s been tough for her.”

“Is that why you sent me flowers and candy?”

Grace was a bit surprised by the intensity with which Carter returned her gaze before he finally responded.

“That was one of the reasons.”

Her stomach churned. She wasn’t going to ask what other reasons he had. “Well, it was very—”

“Romantic?” he asked with a smile.

“Nice,” she corrected.

He shook his head. “You say that like you thought I was either a confirmed bachelor or gay.”

She couldn’t smile at his attempt at humor. It would never enter her mind that Carter might be gay, especially since Benson had told her about some of Carter’s girlfriends and love affairs when they were in law school together.

And there was certainly something genuine about the comfort she’d received from his embrace that one time. She’d never forgotten.

While her own thoughts and questions were putting her through an emotional wringer, Grace absently consented when Carter asked if it was okay to get Madison and Becca ice cream. She declined his offer to get some for her as well.

After accepting his waffle cone, Madison raced to hold two recently vacated bistro tables and chairs so they could all sit down.

“What’s your idea of a romantic Valentine’s Day?” Carter asked Grace as he slowly consumed his ice cream. “What would really do it for you?”

Grace sighed. “Are we back to that again?” But she pensively gnawed her lip. “I don’t know if I should tell you. It’s going to sound indulgent. Foolish. Whiny.”

“I’ll let you know if it is or not.”

Grace gave him a crooked grin. She got over her shyness and decided to treat Carter’s question like a game of what-if.

“Well, first of all, I get to sleep late. Somebody else has the kids. There will be flowers all over the house. Inside my croissant, I’d find a pair of diamond ear studs....” Carter laughed at that. “In the refrigerator, a bottle of Perrier Joet champagne. The local spa would call to tell me I have an appointment for a massage, and they’re sending a car to pick me up. After that, we’re flown by helicopter to a secret retreat for three days and two nights of...” Grace stopped, remembering that her children were within earshot of her recitation. “You get the idea,” she concluded.

“Who’s the other person in the ‘we’ part?” Carter asked.

Grace reined herself in. Fantasy over. She was back at the mall with her kids, Carter, and a cast of thousands. She pursed her mouth. “I don’t know. I was just making it up.”

“Can I come with you?” Madison suddenly asked.

Carter grinned broadly. Grace glared at him. “I’m not going anywhere, baby. Mommy was just pretending.” She felt Becca pulling on her arm.

“I wanna go home.”

“We’re leaving now,” Grace said, standing up and taking her daughter’s hand.

* * *

Once they all arrived back at Grace’s house, Carter became the sole and exclusive playmate of Madison and Becca. And while Grace was amazed and relieved that her children had taken so effortlessly to him, she couldn’t wait for Carter to leave.

It wasn’t so much that he’d gotten too comfortable too quickly in her children’s lives, but that Carter was insidiously burrowing into hers. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy his company, his bantering and his thoughtfulness. It was the other possibilities that could be part of the package. Every time her mind ventured into the unknown, Grace was pulled back to reality by two things. The first was the notion that she’d somehow been unfaithful to her late husband’s memory. The second was a fear of falling.

Without interruption, and with nothing else to keep her company but her own thoughts, Grace did chores. First, she did the laundry, and then she repaired a hole in one of Madison’s pants. All the while something was definitely happening inside her. It was a gradual recognition of her loneliness. It was a desire to live again, and to love.

“I guess I should have offered to help.”

Carter’s voice startled her, and she looked over her shoulder to find him standing in the doorway of her kitchen, hands in his pockets.

“You are helping. You’re keeping the kids from fighting and getting in my way. Where are they?”

“In the family room watching a DVD. Square Bob something.”

Grace couldn’t help laughing. “It’s SpongeBob SquarePants. Who won the chess match?”

“We didn’t actually play a game. I thought it wiser to just show Madison a few moves, see what he could do. Who taught him? I don’t remember Benson playing.”

“He didn’t. My father taught Madison.”

Carter was watching her fold small T-shirts belonging to her son. “I guess it’s true what my mom once said to me. A woman’s work really is never done. What do you do to relax?”

“Relax? What’s that?”

He nodded. “I get you. Look, I think I’m going to get on the road back to the city.”

She put a half-folded T-shirt on a pile and followed Carter into the front room, where he’d left his coat.

“Thanks for being so patient with the kids.”

“Thanks for letting me come to play with them.” He grinned.

Carter put on his leather coat but left it unbuttoned. “When can I see you again?” he asked.

The question struck a nerve in Grace. She knew he wasn’t talking about being with her kids. “The next few weeks are going to be busy.”

He grinned knowingly, well aware that she had deliberately misunderstood. “Tell you what. I have to go look at some apartments the next time I fly in from Chicago. Can you come with me?”

“Call me when you get back,” she said coyly.

“Great. I’d like your opinion.”

“You might be sorry you asked.”

With his hand on the doorknob, he looked at her for a long moment. “I seriously doubt it.”

“Do you have to go?” Madison asked, wandering into the front room in his stocking feet.

“I’m afraid so. I have plans tonight, and I have to go get ready.”

Grace folded her arms across her chest and fixed her attention on the middle of Carter’s chest.

“Can you come back to see us again?” Madison asked.

“I hope so,” Carter said comfortably, watching Becca as she soon joined them, sucking two fingers and leaning against her mother’s side. Coming from the family room were the screechy, frantic sounds and dialogue of cartoon characters on the TV.

“Have a good trip back home to Chicago,” Grace said.

“New York is going to be my home,” he replied. Then he playfully pinched Becca’s nose. “Be sweet.” He turned to Madison and asked solemnly, “Is it okay if I kiss your mother goodbye?”

“Carter—” Grace started to object, but her disapproval was lost in Madison’s response.

The boy shrugged. “Sure. I don’t mind.”

“Madison...” she complained anew.

She barely had time to prepare herself when Carter stepped in front of her. She’d imagined something highly inappropriate. Her wild imaginings had already worked it out. But Carter’s kiss, light and affectionate, caressed her lips briefly and was done.

“I’ll call you before I leave the city,” he said.

He was gone before she could react.

“I’m hungry,” Becca announced.

“I’m going to do dinner right now, hon. Madison, please put your chess pieces away. And if you’re not going to watch that movie, turn it off.”

Madison knelt on the floor and swept together all the chessmen, putting them in a box. “Carter’s fun. I like him,” he said simply.

Grace grimaced ruefully to herself as she moistened her lips with her tongue.

What’s not to like?

Chapter 3

“Hi, it’s Grace. Can I help you?”

“You got a minute?”

Grace sighed. “I have a little more time than that for you, Marjorie, but I’m going into a meeting soon. Is everything okay?”

“As well as can be expected. I was wondering what you’re going to do in May for Benson’s anniversary?”

Grace, who was multitasking as she talked to her mother-in-law, furrowed her brow. “Benson’s anniversary?”

“Of his passing.”

“I don’t have any plans to celebrate, Marjorie,” she said smoothly.

“Good. ’Cause it’s no occasion to celebrate. I’m talking about recognizing the day, all of us visiting his grave.”

Grace quickly bit back her immediate reaction to Marjorie’s suggestion. “By all of us, I take it you want to include Madison and Becca.”

“Yes, I do. I think they need to show their respect.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t agree with you.”

“Benson was their father,” Marjorie defended firmly.

“The key word here is was. Don’t you understand that the children don’t remember Benson? They see his picture, even pictures of him with them as babies, but they don’t really make a connection. He’s just a man in a photograph.”

“That’s your fault. You could do more so Madison and Becca don’t forget who he is. It’s your responsibility as my son’s wife.”

Grace closed her eyes and rested her forehead in her hand, speaking patiently. “Marjorie, look. I’m raising my children, and I know very well what they need to know. I can’t begin to tell you how many times I’ve sat them down to tell them all about Benson. I tell them stories about how he and I met, about Benson asking me to marry him and about what he did when each of them was born. They’re just stories to the kids right now.

“One day about a year ago, Becca comes home after preschool and asks me, what’s a daddy? She was having trouble with the concept, let alone attaching it to Benson. Now she knows that he’s died and gone away, but that means nothing to her because she never knew him to begin with. I don’t think I can force a memory that’s not there.”

“That’s all the more reason why I think you need to mark that day. It’s time she learned about him.”

Grace looked at the time. “Look, I’m sorry to cut you off, but we can finish this later. I have to go. I promise I’ll think about it, but I’m not fond of the idea.”

There was only silence for a moment before Marjorie finally responded.

“Have they met Carter?”

“Yes, they have. I told you he was coming out on Saturday. Don’t forget, Carter is Madison’s godfather. So why would I deny him a chance to see the children? They like him. You’ll be pleased to know that Carter told Madison a lot about what a good athlete Benson was, and how they became good friends.”

“That was nice of him,” Marjorie said grudgingly. “I still feel—”

“I know how you feel. I get it. If it’s not too late this evening, I’ll call you after the children are asleep.”

“Don’t forget that I go to bed myself at ten,” Marjorie said and hung up.

Grace replaced the phone, but instead of feeling angry at her mother-in-law’s imperious attitude, she felt consumed by guilt.

She had no desire to visit Benson’s grave, and even less interest in dragging her children out to stand over a granite marker in the ground with his name carved on it. She was not interested in playing the grieving widow, or in pretending that his death was an unbearable loss. Benson’s death had been hard at first for reasons that neither Marjorie nor anyone else could ever understand. But there was no point in revisiting the past.

Shame at her thoughts forced Grace out of her chair. She snatched up her folder of notes and headed out the office toward the meeting in a nearby conference room. She’d gotten as far as the office door when her phone rang again. She wavered between taking the call and leaving it to her answering machine. She looked at the time again. There was still five minutes to spare. She had been expecting a call.

But it was her father on the line.

“Hey, baby. Am I interrupting something?”

“Hi, Daddy. As a matter of fact, I’m about to go into a meeting. Is this important?”

“Yeah, but not urgent. It can wait. Am I going to see you and the children anytime soon?”

“Do you want to come over for dinner this weekend? Madison has some new chess moves, and he wants to try them out on you.”

Ward Mathison laughed in his booming voice. “Tell him to bring it on. Who’s he been playing with?”

“Carter Morrison. You remember him, right? He spent the day with us last weekend.”

“Carter Morrison,” Ward murmured. “Is that right?”

“Madison and Becca really took to him.”

“How ’bout yourself? What do you think of the man?”

“Did you want to talk to me about anything in particular?” Grace asked, ignoring her father’s question.

“Nothing that can’t wait ’til I see you. But some time soon, okay?”

“Now you’ve got me curious.”

He chuckled. “Now you’ll have to wait. Bye, baby. Call me when you can.”

This time Grace actually made it through the office door into the corridor when the phone rang again. This time she ignored it and went to her meeting. An hour later she was back in her office, listening to her voice messages, including one from Carter. He was just getting to his reason for calling when a staffer stopped by her office, knocked gently on the door, and announced that there was someone waiting to see her at the entrance. Carter’s voice message made it clear that he was on his way to her office and was going to take her to lunch.

Grace sat for a moment, processing the unexpected visit, analyzing the past and present, and speculating on the future. The very first thought that came to her was the lingering impression of Carter’s good-night kiss. In truth, it could hardly be called a kiss. But she still remembered it. She wondered at the wisdom of encouraging a relationship with Carter, even for the sake of Madison, for whom, she admitted, she couldn’t have picked a better role model. But Carter was part of the past as well, and she wanted to be done with that. At least, she kept telling herself that.

He was in conversation with the security guard when she arrived at the entrance. As she approached, Grace noticed that he was dressed less casually than when he visited the weekend before but was definitely dressed down from business attire. He was wearing a winter overcoat, and a long chenille scarf was wound rakishly around his neck. At his side was a packed folding garment bag made of black leather, with numerous pockets and straps. He looked so worldly. He seemed so together. He was so...

“Hi,” Grace said, drawing his attention.

“Hi, yourself. I was hoping you’d be free. Sorry I couldn’t give you more warning about getting together. I’m leaving a day early for Chicago.”

“It’s a busy day, but I can do lunch.”

“My treat,” Carter said, lifting his bag and walking with her out to the street.

“You better believe it,” she responded tartly, making him laugh. “Where would you like to go?”

“Downtown,” he said, walking to the curb, where the town car was again double-parked.

“Downtown? Why? There are plenty of good places a few blocks from here.”

“I want to show you something first. It won’t take long, and then we can find a place.” He opened the passenger door and held it for her.

Grace didn’t move. She was puzzled and more than a little suspicious. “What’s going on?’

“Remember I told you about viewing some apartments? I want your advice. Are you with me?”

She slowly nodded. “Okay.”

“Good.”

During the ride, Carter told her about the apartments that had been arranged for him to see in Battery Park City, an enclave several blocks away from the site of the former World Trade Center towers. Grace listened as he tried to describe the area, but she confessed that she didn’t know anything about that part of Lower Manhattan. She was surprised that he would consider living there but flattered that he cared about what she thought. Grace also felt a rising apprehension that Carter’s move to New York was becoming real. He’d be able to spend time with Madison. That meant spending time with her.

For all the new construction and the contemporary sleekness of the high-rise buildings, the manufactured parks and promenades, and upscale shops and restaurants in Battery Park City, Grace found the setting sterile and artificial. Carter parked behind one such rectangular high-rise and led her through a maze of security procedures. Before they’d even boarded the elevator, Grace hated every inch of what she’d seen so far. This was a place for men and women whose lives were ruled by work and the clock. It was a residence, but not a home. It was fine for singles and couples, but terrible for a family.

As Carter led the way into one of the apartments on his list, on a floor high enough to induce a nosebleed, Grace couldn’t help but wonder if this was really the way he wanted to live. The rooms were rather small, except for the master bedroom, which had a walk-in closet, a large dressing room area, a Jacuzzi in the bathroom and heating racks for towels. One wall of the bedroom was almost entirely glass and overlooked the Hudson River and the undistinguished shoreline of New Jersey on the other side. She watched Carter’s broad shoulders and his erect posture as he stared silently out the window.

“There isn’t much room for... Do you expect to get married some day? Do you see yourself having kids?” she asked carefully, not sure if she was crossing the line of “too personal.”

He turned to face her and seemed mildly surprised by the question. “Definitely. What do you think?” Carter asked.

“It’s nice,” Grace said politely.

“You hate it,” he said without rancor. “Be honest with me—that’s why I brought you to see it.”

“Carter, it really doesn’t matter what I think. I don’t have to live here, or raise a family here.”

“But you have a woman’s point of view, and that’s important. I trust you. You won’t hurt my feelings.”

Grace felt trapped and sighed helplessly. She looked around again, hoping to find one redeeming quality, one positive thing to say about the space, for his sake.

“It will work fine for your lifestyle,” Grace began, trying to sound enthusiastic. “You have a fast-track life right now. You could make this place comfortable, simple and easy to maintain. And it’s not permanent, right? You can always get something different in a few years, if anything changes.”

“I expect it to,” Carter said, watching her move about the empty rooms.

They went to see two more apartment units, but to Grace’s thinking, there wasn’t much difference between them. It was hard to generate excitement about places that seemed little more than compartmentalized boxes. It was hard to imagine Carter living in any of them, with or without a significant other.

They finished seeing the last place and headed back to the elevator. The presence of other passengers forestalled any conversation until they were both back in the car. She was relieved when he didn’t question her further right away but turned the conversation to his work and what his new responsibilities would be. He drove in search of someplace to eat. Grace could tell that he was excited about starting again in New York, but she was sure she detected an edge, almost an uncertainty, to his excitement. It was understandable, given all the changes Carter was going through in such a short period of time.

He took her to a small, well-known restaurant near South Street Seaport. Grace was very familiar with its name and reputation but had never eaten there herself. She hadn’t done much fancy dining of the adult variety beyond the children’s birthdays, Christmas and Halloween. She’d looked forward to lunch with Carter, but as they were seated, Grace felt a warm lethargy overtake her, which she didn’t understand. Carter also seemed pensive, with a disquiet underlying his conversation all through the meal. It was over cappuccino that she finally addressed his quiet mood.

“Is everything okay? You seem a little distracted. I hope it wasn’t because of what I said about those apartments.”

The rest of her comment stuck in her throat as Carter reached across the table and took hold of her hand. She stared at his hand and then into his eyes, their expression protected behind the lenses of his glasses. But she could tell by his eye movement that he was closely monitoring the changes on her face.

“Maybe I was testing you.”

“Testing me? What for?”

“I wasn’t sure if you still hated me.”

Grace stared at him. “Where on earth did you get that idea? I don’t hate you.”

He adjusted his glasses but finally took them off and laid them, folded, next to his plate. He regarded her silently. To Grace, it somehow felt as if they were much closer together. She felt enveloped by Carter’s gaze, by the memory of two small moments between them that had changed everything.

“When Benson first introduced us, six months before you two got married, that’s how I felt. Those were the vibes you seemed to be sending me.”

Slowly, the shock faded, and she became reflective. “You know, it’s funny you would say that,” she murmured. “I always thought you hated me. And what has any of that to do with where you’re going to live when you move to New York?”

“I needed to know what you really thought about me. How well do you know me? How much do you care?”

He paused, but Grace remained still and silent, her insides roiling. She felt an overpowering sense of intimacy, drawn into his dark gaze.

“If you were indifferent, it wouldn’t matter if I wanted to live at the Plaza or a Ramada Inn, in Battery Park or Harlem. But I felt like you were really considering what was right for me.”

“I can’t believe you’d be happy in any of those places we saw.”

“That’s what I wanted to find out, Grace.”

She was still confused. “But, why?”

“Was I just Benson’s best friend, or can I be your friend, too? Can we start with that?”

“I don’t hate you,” she repeated. “But when we first met, I thought...well, I thought you were arrogant and unfriendly. I felt like you looked down on me, like you didn’t think I was good enough for Benson. You never seemed to smile when I was around, and you never made much attempt to talk to me. What was I supposed to think?”

Carter’s expression looked strained. He seemed both surprised and sad by her observations, and shook his head.

“I didn’t realize I was coming across that way. I’m really sorry you felt that way all those years, but you did touch on something that was partially true.”

“What?” she questioned cautiously.

“It’s not that I thought Benson was too good for you. It was the reverse. I thought you were probably too good for him.”

“Really?”

“Don’t get me wrong, Benson was a great guy. He was street-smart and ambitious—he was basically an honest man. But he was a player.” Seeing the shock that came into her eyes, Carter held up his hand to keep her silent. “I don’t think he fooled around. As far as I or anyone else knew, he was totally faithful to you.

“I’m talking about what he wanted to do with his life, where he wanted to rise to. Getting appointed to the mayor’s office was a real coup, but Benson had plans to go much higher. You can’t have that kind of drive without knowing you have to play ball, cut deals, compromise, maybe even gloss over the truth when necessary. Well, that was fine for Benson, but I always had the feeling that that’s not the kind of life you bargained for when the two of you got married. He went from being just another district attorney to being in ‘the game.’”

“How did you know how I felt about his career?” Grace asked, not denying any of Carter’s statements.

“You seemed not in awe of Benson, but overwhelmed. Like he was moving too fast, and you were afraid you’d hold him back. I think you wanted to be a partner in a marriage, not in his career goals. I think you wanted to know he would give as much quality time to his family as he did to outfoxing his opponents and enemies. Benson had them, you know.”

“I...I don’t know what to say,” Grace murmured. “I never realized anyone was paying attention to my relationship with Benson. Everyone liked him, and he was so popular, but I wasn’t jealous of that.”

“I came to understand that after a while.” Carter nodded. “But I thought you hated me because you believed I thought you were holding him back. On the other hand, Benson really loved you. He said you were a class act, not like those other bi...women he’d known before. You gave him a son, and that made a huge difference in his outlook. But I wondered what would have happened down the road.”

It was a lot for Grace to think about, putting together all the puzzle pieces that made up the relationships between her, Benson and Carter. She’d never seen before that their relationships were such a complicated triangle. The revelations about her and Carter’s misconceptions about each other also had an effect on her. Grace suddenly felt as if a door had opened to reveal secrets that might give closure to the past.

“I wasn’t sure that becoming a father would make a difference to Benson. When Madison was about two, I started to think Benson was getting a little restless. Like he wanted and needed something else. Like...I wasn’t doing it for him anymore. I even asked him if he wanted a divorce. That sort of shook him up, and he said no. Shortly after that, I got pregnant with Rebecca. But deep in my heart, I knew that having another baby was only a Band-Aid on a bigger wound. I knew I couldn’t keep up with him.”

“I’m sorry,” Carter said quietly. “I had no idea. Which makes what happened three years ago so unreal, doesn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“When I found you alone and crying after the service for Benson, you looked like your heart had been broken, and I felt it was proof positive of how much you loved him. Then you lost him.”

She grimaced ruefully. “I never had Benson. You don’t hold someone like him. I never really belonged to him. Maybe I wanted something from him he couldn’t give. Maybe, after a few years and a couple of kids, he felt the same way. But I don’t believe in looking back, Carter. I’m not still in mourning.”

“I wanted to be sure.”

“How come?”

“That day when I tried to comfort you, I knew that the timing couldn’t have been worse. I finally got a chance to show a little of how I felt, and your husband had just passed away. Was I just Benson’s best friend or could I be your friend? Maybe take it from there. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Grace felt disoriented by Carter’s admission. Suddenly, every word, every action in their time together lately fell into place and began to make sense. Benson’s mother had seen more three years ago than she could have realized.

“I...don’t know what to say.”

He leaned across the table. “How about, for starters, that I’m not making a fool of myself. That it’s not too late, or a big mistake.”

There was something poignant and vulnerable about his honesty.

“I’m a little nervous and confused, but I think you’re on to something,” Grace quietly confessed.

“It took three years for me to get up the courage to say something. I know you didn’t feel the same way.”

“Do you think Benson knew how you felt?” she asked, suddenly horrified at the thought.

“I would have broken off the friendship if I thought I couldn’t keep it to myself. I didn’t want to hurt Benson or you.”

She shook her head in amazement. “But to stay silent for all those years.”

“Until now,” Carter quietly reminded her.

“Is everything okay here?” The waiter’s overly cheerful voice broke into their mutual reflection and brought Grace and Carter back to the present. “Can I get you anything else?”

“No, this is good,” Carter reassured the young man. He glanced at Grace. “This is very good.”

By the time they left the restaurant, Grace felt as if everything had changed and the world looked different. She was giddy and disoriented, her head spinning with Carter’s revelations. She felt awkward and shy and exposed. Carter had tapped into something between them that she had only begun to question herself. But she wasn’t there, yet.

They left the restaurant, and he took her hand.

“Don’t say anything right now.”

“I can’t,” she agreed, bemused.

“I guess I could have planned this better. Maybe I should have said something sooner. Maybe waited until I’d already moved here. I hate that I have to leave you like this.”

Grace smiled kindly at him. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Carter, but I’m glad you have to go back to Chicago for a while.”

He looked a little grim, but stoic. “Got it.” He nodded.

She waited in numb silence while he hailed a cab for her and paid the driver to return her to her office. They faced each other suddenly like total strangers. But she finally realized how much courage it had taken for Carter to come forth with his feelings about her. And how much more it had taken for him to remain silent for eight years. Despite that spontaneous but electrifying encounter between them, Carter had never taken advantage of her. She stood before him now, appreciating and admiring the risk he’d taken. He had shown strength of character and had opened his heart. Could she do any less?

Grace took a tentative step toward Carter and raised her arms for a hug. It was gentle and comforting, and took them back to that time and place when the moment called for understanding.

“Have a safe trip,” Grace said softly. “Hurry back.”

* * *

“Thank you so much for understanding. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you more warning, but something came up, and I have to stay in the city a little longer this afternoon.”

Grace, on the phone with her babysitter, felt a little uneasy about having to change her children’s routine. It was rare that she was forced to rearrange her schedule and theirs, and it was always work-related, something that she had to accommodate when necessary. Yet going into emergency backup mode for Carter Morrison struck her as not only out of character, but pretty spur-of-the-moment. Her life was not geared to spontaneity, or to taking chances. Grace realized she was making concessions for him that she hadn’t made for any other man since Benson.

Why?

“I’ve already spoken with the children’s grandmother, and she’ll pick them up at your place at the time I normally would,” Grace informed the babysitter. “Here’s her name and phone number....”

Why not? she thought.

Because with Carter, she could talk about more than Playstation and Toy Story dolls, she thought, realizing how limited her vocabulary had become. Because he liked her kids, and they liked him. Because Madison had been asking when Carter was coming to play chess with him again. Was it because the myth that had been dispelled between them had allowed for another feeling to sneak in?

Now it could be said.

“Yes, everything will be back to normal tomorrow,” Grace assured the babysitter. “I’ll pick up the children after work as usual. Thanks so much. I’ll call my mother-in-law and let her know you’ll be expecting her. Bye.”

Grace sat forward in her chair, turning to her computer to finish an email. She was tired of trying to analyze her decision. What difference did it make? There was nothing to read between the lines as she made arrangements so she and Carter could see each other.

He was becoming a good friend. There was nothing wrong with having a good friend.

Right?

Grace had known exactly when he’d returned to New York. He’d called on his way up the New Jersey Turnpike to say he’d taken a year lease on one of the three apartments they’d seen together. He already had a phone number, had arranged for movers to arrive with his things, and had driven himself back in his Lexus.

He’d wasted no time in asking to see her.

Grace was breathless with anxiety. Was he moving too fast? Was this whirlwind of feelings more than friendship or curiosity? Or just a momentary apparition?

Carter’s phone call an hour earlier, asking if she could possibly stay late and meet with him, had not only caught her off guard but had stirred an odd anticipation. When she left work that afternoon at almost five-thirty, it was raining lightly. She walked briskly toward the subway only to realize that Carter was standing at the top of the entrance, under the protection of a large umbrella.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, sounding more annoyed than she’d intended.

“Waiting for you.”

“Afraid I’d get lost in the subway? Or that I’d stand you up?”

“Aren’t you glad I came to drive you in the comfort of my car, saving you the hassle?” he said, waving a hand to the Lexus parked near the corner.

“Yes,” Grace conceded as a gust of wind tried to tear her pocket umbrella from her hand.

The drive downtown was stop and go as the traffic was hampered by the weather and the usual insanity of rush hour in the city. He’d made reservations at B. Smith’s.

She realized that she was nervous to be with him—to the point of trembling. She crossed her legs after they were seated to keep her knees from jumping. Seeing Carter again after their parting conversation ten days earlier made Grace wonder what they could say to one another now. How they would behave. But the one surprising difference that she’d noticed at once was that she was glad to see Carter again.

He ordered glasses of champagne. They toasted his return to New York, finding an apartment, beginning a new life. But Grace realized it was a new start for her, as well. Then Carter proposed a second toast.

“Let’s hope the joys of the future will be strengthened by those of the past.”

She found his remark thoughtful and somehow profound. Grace had always thought of Benson with genuine feeling and warmth and regret, and without guilt she smiled at the man sitting opposite her. Grace began to relax in his company.

After they’d placed their order, Carter took a purple envelope from his pocket and slid it across the table to her.

He said nothing, offered no explanation and Grace stared at the envelope suspiciously. She did not ask what it might be; but her sudden rapid heartbeat and her flushed skin signaled that she’d reached her own conclusion.

“Does this have anything to do with Valentine’s Day? Because if it does, you’re a day early.”

He shook his head as he watched her. “To my way of thinking, I’m a few years late. Better late than never.”

Grace finally reached for the envelope. It was flat, but thick. She slid her fingers inside and removed the contents. As she leafed through them, her surprise increased...as did a new anxiety. There was a card with a sweet, romantic, but tasteful, greeting. It made her smile as she read it through twice. Then she realized that the other contents consisted of two cruise tickets—one issued in her name, and one in Carter’s—although they had different staterooms. She was unable to utter a single word.

“This is my way of saying that not only do I want you to be my Valentine, Grace, I want you to be mine period. I want to go back to square one, start over and court you. I want us to get to know each other. We have a lot of catching up to do. I want to do all the him and her things I’ve never done before, and I want to do them with you.”

She couldn’t breathe. She felt dizzy, like the room was slowly turning on its side. “I guess I can’t say this is so sudden.”

“Maybe for you, but not me. I told you the last time we saw each other that telling you my feelings was a long time coming.”

She silently put everything back into the envelope; her gaze upon him was troubled but pleaded for understanding. “You’re asking me to go away with you. I don’t think I’m ready.”

“Am I wrong to believe you have feelings for me?”

There it was. Truth or dare.

“No,” she said with some relief.

“Are you worried about the kids, and about how Marjorie will react to our being together?”

“Yes.”

“Are you worried about being alone with me?” he asked more gently.

She merely nodded.

Their dinner was served, and Carter wisely guided the conversation to a general discussion of all the places he wanted to travel to in his lifetime. Grace eventually confessed she had her own short list. On it was a trip to Disney World, which didn’t need an explanation. Ever since Benson’s death, she’d imagined the rest of her life alone, as if she’d been banished forever to widowhood. There were the children, of course, but Grace had prepared herself for living without a partner, a lover and soul mate. She was ready to accept her fate. Carter’s interest and his intentions had not eliminated that, but had added a new wrinkle in the fabric of her life that was not so easy to deal with.

Grace knew that Carter was disappointed in her response. He watched her closely throughout dinner, trying not to look like he was staring. She knew he was looking for a sign of hope or encouragement, rather than an outright no.

Silence eventually took over as her mind went into free fall, and a flurry of vignettes and episodes from the past, moments that had been charged with emotion, innocent yet titillating, exciting but dangerous. All the wishful thinking she’d ruthlessly suppressed rose to the surface. She’d married Benson because she loved him; he had been a good man with enormous promise, but he was gone.

So, why did she continue to feel guilty and ashamed?

Carter took care of the bill. They stepped out into the cold February night. The rain had turned to a light snow. He began walking to his parked car, then realized that Grace hung back.

“Carter, I...I’d rather go home by myself on the train.”

The muscles tightened in Carter’s jaw, and he nodded. “All right.”

She touched her temple. “My head is spinning. I can’t think straight. I’m sorry.”

He took her elbow. “I’ll drive you to the station.”

They were both silent, both deep in thought, neither having any idea what the next step was. Outside the gate to her train track, they stood facing one another. He held out the envelope. After a moment she silently took it.

“I don’t think this came at you out of left field. I kept my distance out of respect for Benson. But then I asked myself, what am I waiting for?”

“But...to go on a cruise together,” she stammered.

He grinned gently at her. “You gave me the idea. I counted on that when I asked you what you would want.”

“You were pretty sure of yourself,” she said grimly.

“Only about wanting to be with you. But I’m not out of the woods, it seems. You could still turn me down. If that happens, I’ll deal with it. The cruise leaves in ten days. I want you to come with me, Grace.”

She was afraid to ask, what if she didn’t?

An announcement echoed through the terminal about the departure of train 317 to Westchester, leaving on Track 29.

“No matter what else happens, there’s something I have to do before you go,” Carter began.

Grace stood waiting. She knew exactly what it was. Carter put his arms around her, drawing her to his chest. She knew instantly that this was more than caring, more than affection. His mouth descended, and she closed her eyes and tilted her head so he would fit properly atop her open lips. The first touch went to her head, his mouth gently moving and caressing hers. She became pliant and willing and easy and breathless.

The euphoria was like a drug that she’d been without for so long; the sensation was dramatic and overwhelming.

Grace let Carter take his fill. Even she held nothing back, enjoying the delicious expertise of his embrace, the sensual dance of his tongue around hers. It was a sweet awakening.

And, very possibly, a bittersweet goodbye.

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