“Now I know you're crazy.” He came to sit on the foot of the bed and told her funny stories about the afternoon, and in spite of herself, she was disappointed when he left. It was ten o'clock by then, and he thought she should get some sleep, although he didn't want to leave either.

But that night, as she lay in bed and thought about him, she started to panic. What was she doing with him? What did she want from him? If she opened up to him like this, he would only hurt her. She forced herself to remember the anguish and embarrassment of Marcus, who had been so good to her at first, so patient, and then betrayed her. It terrified her just thinking about Charles. Maybe all she was to Charles Mackenzie was a conquest. She could feel her chest tighten as she thought about it, and as though he had read her mind, the phone rang next to her bed. She couldn't imagine who it was, but it was Charles, and he sounded worried.

“I want to say something to you … and you may think I'm crazy, but I'm going to say it to you anyway … I want to be your friend, Grace. I won't hurt you, but I just got worried, trying to imagine what you were thinking. I don't know what's happening. I just know that I think about you all the time, and I worry about what's happened to you in the past, although I can't even imagine it … but I don't want to lose you … I don't want to scare you away, or frighten you, or make you worry about your job. Let's just be two people for a little while, two people who care about each other, if we do, and go very slowly from there.” She couldn't believe what she was hearing, but in a way, it was a relief to have him say it.

“What are we doing, Charles?” she said nervously. “What about my job? We can't pretend I don't work for you. What happens when I come back?”

“You're not coming back for a while, Grace. We'll know a lot more by then. I think we're both feeling something we don't understand right now. Maybe we're just friends, maybe your accident scared us both. Maybe it's more than that. Maybe it never can be. But you need to know who I am, and I want to know who you are … I want to know your pain … I want to know what makes you laugh. I want to be there for you … I want to help you. …”

“And then what? You walk away from me? You find another secretary who amuses you for a few weeks and have her tell you all her secrets?” She was relieved that he called her but she was too afraid to let herself trust him.

Charles remembered Father Tim's words, that some of the survivors just can't let go. But he wanted her to be one who could, no matter what it took to get there.

“That's not fair,” Charles chided her. “I've never been in a situation like this before. I've never gone out with anyone at the law firm, or anyone who worked for me.” And then he smiled in spite of himself. “And you can hardly say I'm going out with you. You can't go anywhere except from the bed to the chair, and even I wouldn't have the bad taste to attack you.”

She laughed at what he said, and her voice sounded deep and sexy as she lay in bed, and she wanted to let herself trust him, but she knew she couldn't … or could she?

“I just don't know,” Grace said, still sounding nervous.

“You don't have to know anything right now … except if it's okay with you if I visit you. That's all you need to decide right now. I was just afraid you'd panic and start to go crazy once you were alone, and got to thinking.”

“I was … tonight …” she said honestly with a little girl's smile. “I was starting to panic over what we're doing.”

“We're not doing anything, so just shut up and get better. And one of these days,” he said so gently, it was almost a caress, “when you feel strong enough, I want you to tell me what happened to you in the past. You can't expect me to really understand till you do that. Have you ever told anyone?” He worried about that. How could she live with all those dark secrets?

“Two people,” she admitted to him. “A wonderful woman I knew, a therapist … she was killed in a plane crash on her honeymoon almost three years ago. And a man who was my lawyer, but I haven't talked to him in a long time either.”

“You haven't had a lot of luck, have you, Grace?”

She shook her head sadly, and then shrugged. “I don't know … lately I have. I can't complain.” She decided to take a huge leap then. “I was lucky when I met you.” Saying those words to him almost choked her and he knew it.

“Not as lucky as I was. Now get some sleep, sweetheart …” he said softly into the phone, “I'll come by at lunch. And maybe I'll even come back for dinner. Maybe I can bring you something from ‘21.’ “

“I was going to take Winnie there next week,” she said guiltily.

“You'll have plenty of time for that when you're well. Now go to sleep,” he whispered to her, wishing he could put his arms around her and protect her. She made him feel different than he had ever felt with any woman before. All he wanted to do was take care of her and keep her safe from harm. So many terrible things must have happened to her, even as recently as a week ago. But he wanted to change all that now.

They said good night and hung up, and she lay there thinking about him for a long time. He frightened her with the things he said to her, and his persistent attention, but oddly enough, as terrifying as it was, she liked it. And she felt a tingling sensation in her gut that she had never felt before for any man, until Charles Mackenzie.





Chapter 12

Charles came to see her twice the next day, and either once or twice a day for the next three weeks, until she was finally released from Bellevue. She could get around more easily on crutches by then, and take care of herself, but she still didn't have as much stamina as she would have liked. The doctor told her to wait another two weeks before she went back to work.

At the office, Charles was making do with temps, and Grace felt terribly guilty about it, but he was the first one to tell her not to rush back to work, not to come back in fact, until she was ready.

They spent hours together while she was in the hospital. She knew he'd had to cancel almost all his plans to be with her, but he pretended not to even notice. They laughed, and they talked, and played cards, and he joked with her. He didn't force any confidences from her, and he helped her walk down the hall, and promised her you couldn't see a single scar, and when she complained about how horrible the hospital gowns were, he brought her exquisite nightgowns from Pratesi. In a way, it was all embarrassing, and she was still terrified of where it would all lead, but she was no longer able to stop it. If he didn't come to lunch, she didn't eat, and if he had to miss an evening with her, she was so lonely she could barely stand it. Every time she saw his face appear in the doorway of her hospital room, she looked like a child who had found its only friend, or its teddy bear, or even its mother. He took care of everything for her, talked to the doctors, called in consultants, filed her insurance. No one at the office knew how involved he was with her, and even Winnie had no idea how much time he was spending with her. Grace had had a lifetime of practice at keeping secrets.

But once she went home, she was frightened again that everything would change. For about two hours, until he appeared at her apartment with champagne and balloons, and a picnic lunch. It was only two hours after he had brought her back from the hospital in a rented limo and left her briefly to do some errands.

“What are people going to think?” she said, as he drove her from the hospital, back to Eighty-fourth street. She imagined that everyone knew her boss was hanging out with her day and night, and they were going to put it up on billboards.

“I don't think anyone really cares, to tell you the truth. Except us. Everyone is busy screwing up their own lives. And frankly, I don't think we're screwing up ours. You're the best thing that ever happened to me.” He repeated that to her when he arrived on her doorstep with a picnic. More importantly, he had a small blue box with him, and in it was a narrow gold bracelet.

“What's this for?” she said, awed by his generosity. It was from Tiffany, and it fit her perfectly, but she wasn't sure if she should accept it.

But he was laughing at her. “Do you know what day this is?” She shook her head. She had lost track of dates while she was in the hospital. She had spent the Fourth of July there, but she hadn't paid much attention after that. “It's your birthday, silly girl. That's why I had them let you out today instead of Monday. You can't stay in the hospital on your birthday!” Tears filled her eyes as she realized what he'd done, and he'd even brought a small birthday cake for her from Greenberg's. It was all chocolate, and very rich, and incredibly gooey and delicious.

“How can you do all this for me?” She felt shy with him suddenly, but so pleased. He had done nothing but spoil her since the mugging. Spoil her and be kind to her, and spend time with her. No one had ever been as kind to her as he was.

“Easy, I guess,” he answered, “I don't have kids. Maybe I should adopt you. Now there's a thought. That certainly simplifies things for you, doesn't it?” She laughed at the suggestion. It would certainly have been easier than dealing with her feelings and fears of getting involved with him.

Their relationship changed subtly once she was back in her apartment. It was instantly more intimate, closer, and more difficult to pretend that they were just friends. They were suddenly all alone without nurses and attendants to chaperon and interrupt them. It made Grace feel shy with him at first, and he pretended not to notice. He had brought a funny nurse's hat with him with her birthday cake and gift and picnic lunch, and he put it on, and forced her to go to bed and rest. He watched TV with her, and made dinner for her in her tiny kitchen. She hobbled out to help, and he made her sit in a chair and watch, while she protested.