“Were you married for a long time?”

“Long enough,” he grinned. “Seven years.” He had been divorced for two. It had cost him nearly a million dollars to get out of it, but at the time it had seemed worth it, in spite of the economic stress it had caused him. No one had snagged his heart seriously since, and the only thing he really regretted was never having children. “I was thirty-three when I married her, and at the time, I was sure that being married to Michelle Andrews was the answer to all my prayers. It turned out that being married to America's hottest movie star wasn't as easy as I thought. Those people pay a high price for celebrity. Higher than the rest of us know. The press is never kind to them, the public wants to own their souls … there's no way to survive it, except religion or drugs, and either way is not an ideal solution, as far as I'm concerned. Every time we turned around there was another headline, another scandal. It was tough to live with, and eventually it takes a toll. We're good friends now, but three years ago we weren't.” Grace knew from People magazine that she had been married twice since, to a younger rock star, and her agent. “Besides, I was too square for her. Too stiff. Too boring.” Grace suspected that he had offered his former wife the only stability she'd ever had, or would have. “What about you? Married? Engaged? Divorced seven times? How old are you anyway, I forget. Twenty-three?”

“Almost,” she blushed, “in July. And no, not married or engaged. I'm too smart for either one, thanks very much.”

“Oh sure, Grandma, give me a lecture.” He laughed and she tried not to think about how attractive he was when he did. She didn't really want to get to know him. “At twenty-two, you're too young to even go out. I hope you don't.” He was teasing but she wasn't, and he sensed that.

“I don't.”

“You don't? You're not serious?”

“Maybe.”

“Are you planning to become a nun when you grow up, after your career in a law firm?” He was amused by her now that she was opening up a little bit. She was an intriguing girl. Smart and bright, and funny when she let it show, which wasn't often.

“I have a friend who's trying to talk me into it actually.”

“Who is that? I'll have to have a talk with this friend. Nuns are completely out of style these days. Don't you know that?”

“I guess not,” Grace laughed again, “she is one. Sister Eugene. She's terrific.”

“Oh God, you're a religious fanatic. I knew it. Why am I cursed with people like you … my wife wanted me to bring the Dalai Lama over from Tibet to stay with us … you're all crazy!” He pretended to brush her away, as a waiter poured their coffee and Grace laughed at him.

“I'm not a religious fanatic, I swear. Sometimes it's appealing though. Their life is so simple.”

“And so unreal. You can help the world without giving it up,” he said solemnly. It was something he felt strongly about. He liked helping people without taking extreme positions. “Where do you know this nun from?” He was still curious and they didn't have to leave the hotel for another ten minutes.

“We work together at a place where I do volunteer work.”

“And where's that?” She saw as he talked to her that he was perfectly shaved, and everything about him was immaculate, and she tried not to notice. This was business.

“It's called St. Andrew's, on the Lower East Side. It's a home for abused women and children.”

“You work there?” He seemed surprised, there was more to her than he had suspected, even though she was young, and sometimes very crabby. He was starting to like her better.

“I do. I work there three times a week. It's an amazing place. They take in hundreds of people.”

“I never figured you for doing something like that,” he said honestly.

“Why not?” she was surprised.

“Because that's a big commitment, a lot of work. Most girls your age would rather go to the discos.”

“I've never been to one in my life.”

“I'd take you, but I'm too old, and your mother probably wouldn't want you to go with me,” he said, implying no threat at all, and for once even Grace didn't react. But she also didn't tell him she had no mother.

The limousine picked them up for their meetings a few minutes after ten. And the next day they concluded the deal, in time to fly back to New York on the nine p.m. flight, which got them back to New York at six the following morning. As they were landing he told her to take the day off. It had been a long two days, and they hadn't slept on the plane. He had worked, and she had helped him.

“Are you taking the day off?” she asked.

“I can't. I've got a meeting at ten with Arco, and I've got a lot to do. Besides, I have a partners’ lunch and there's some complaining I want to do.”

“Then I'm going to work too.”

“Don't be silly. I'll make do with Mrs, Macpherson or someone from the typing pool.”

“If you're working, so am I. I don't need a day off. I can sleep tonight.” She was very definite about it.

“The joys of youth. Are you sure?” He eyed her thoughtfully. She was becoming just what the others had said she was, loyal, hardworking, and nice to be around. It had been a long time coming.

He dropped her off at her apartment on the way home, and told her to take her time coming in, and if she changed her mind, he'd understand. But she was there before he was. She had all his notes from the plane typed up, his memos for his ten o'clock meeting on his desk, and a series of files she knew he'd want laid out. And his coffee exactly the way he liked it.

“Wow!” He smiled at her. “What did I do to deserve all this?”

“You put up with me for the past three months. I was pretty awful, and I'm sorry.” He had been a perfect gentleman in California, and she was prepared to be his friend now.

“No, you weren't. I guess I had to prove myself. We both did.” He seemed to understand it perfectly, and he was really grateful for the caliber of her work, and the minute attention she paid to detail.

At three-thirty that afternoon, he forced her to go home, and said he'd fire her if she didn't. But something had changed between them, and they both knew it. They were allies now, not enemies, and she was there to help him.





Chapter 11

June was incredible in New York that year. It was warm and lush, with hot, breezy days, and balmy nights. The kind of nights where people used to sit on their stoops and hang out the windows. The kind of weather that made people fall in love or wish they had someone to fall in love with.

There were two new women in Charles Mackenzie's life that month, and Grace was aware of both of them, though she wasn't sure she liked either one of them.

One was someone he said he had grown up with, she was divorced and had two kids in college. The other was the producer of a hit Broadway show. He seemed to have a definite attraction to the theater. He had even given two tickets to the play to Grace, and she had taken Winnie and they'd loved it.

“What's he really like?” Winnie asked her afterwards when they went to Sardi's for cheesecake.

“Nice … very, very nice …” Grace admitted. “It took me a long time to say that. I kept thinking he was going to try and tear my clothes off, and I hated him for it before he even tried.”

“Well, did he?” Winnie asked hopefully. She was desperate for Grace to fall in love with someone.

“Of course not. He's a perfect gentleman.” She told her about California.

“That's too bad.” Winnie sounded disappointed. Grace was her vicarious thrill in life, her only contact with youth, and the daughter she'd never had. She wanted great things for her. And especially a handsome husband.

“He's got a bunch of women running after him. But I don't think he's really crazy about anyone. I think his ex-wife really burned him. He doesn't say much, and he's pretty decent about her, but I get the impression she took a chunk of him.” Not only financially, but a piece of his heart that had never recovered.

“One of the girls on fourteen said it cost him close to a million dollars,” Winnie said in a whisper.

“I meant emotionally,” Grace said primly. “Anyway, he's a nice man. And he works like a dog. He stays there till all hours.” He always called a cab for her, or a limousine when she worked late for him, and he was always careful to let her go on time the nights she worked at St. Andrew's. “He's very considerate.” And he had been complaining ever since she'd told him about St. Andrew's. He thought the neighborhood was just too dangerous for her to be going there by subway at night. He didn't even like it on Sundays.

“At least take a cab,” he growled. But it would have cost her a fortune. And she had been doing it for months now with no problem.

Winnie told her then that Tom's wife was having another baby. And they both laughed wondering how long it would take for Bill's wife to start another baby too. The two men were like clones of each other.

After they left the restaurant, they hailed a taxi and Grace dropped Winnie off and went home herself, thinking how much she liked her job now.

Charles went to California again in June, but he didn't take her this time. He only stayed for a day, and he said it wasn't worth it. And the weekend he came back, she worked with him on Saturday in the office. They worked till six o'clock, and he apologized for not taking her to dinner afterwards. He had a date, but he felt terrible working her all day and then not doing anything to reward her.

“Next week you should take a friend to ‘21’ and charge it to me,” he suggested, looking pleased at the idea, “or tonight, if you like.” Grace knew immediately that she'd take Winnie, and the older woman would be ecstatic about it.