Marriage of Convenience (22 page)

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Authors: Madison Cole

BOOK: Marriage of Convenience
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Caroline peeked inside and gasped.

“Surprise!” A large banner reading “Congratulations Malcolm and Caroline!” was strung across the living foyer. Stepping into the room, Caroline’s face relaxed as she was swarmed by her friends. She was pulled into the room, and a glass of champagne was pressed into her hand. Sarah appeared at her side, and Caroline nearly choked on her first sip. Did her sister have any idea what a state she’d put her in? The apologetic look on her face said she did. Caroline squinted her eyes at her sister in mock anger. But rather than lashing out, she pulled her close for a hug. It was very sweet of her to plan a wedding reception.

Caroline and Malcolm joined hands and walked around the house greeting guests and accepting congratulations. As they wandered, they noted the buffet. As if reading their minds, Sarah led them to a table where plates had been prepared. Even as they ate, the doorbell rang repeatedly, and guests continued to offer good wishes.

After a couple of hours, amid toasts and cake, the guests called for them to open their gifts. Sarah ushered them to a large table at the back of the room laden with boxes of all shapes and sizes wrapped in shades of white and silver.

Caroline eyed the boxes and then at the assembled crowd in shock. “You guys didn’t have to bring gifts. It’s such a joy just to have you here. We weren’t expecting to share our day this way, but it’s been amazing. The food was good; the cake was amazing, and the decorations…. We’re so lucky to have such great friends.”

There was a collective “Ahhhh” around the room, and then, from somewhere in the back, “Now open them up!”

It took nearly an hour to open the gifts. After one last champagne toast Sarah made excuses for them as they loaded the packages into the car and fell into the backseat.

“Give them a break,” they heard her say, laughing. “They just got back from their honeymoon and came straight from the airport!”

“And we know where they’re going now!” Cody had been relatively quiet throughout the evening. His wife shot him a laughing look as she closed the door on them.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

They’d returned from the honeymoon too early. They agreed on that. Even as they lazed on the patio waiting for brunch to be served, neither had had a moment’s rest since their return two weeks earlier. They’d returned to a surprise reception party and then their lives.

With engagement season in full swing, next year’s cake calendar was nearly full. And each order was accompanied with a tasting and consultation. Some lasted an hour; others had to have follow-up meetings to nail down details. Caroline could remember when mothers and daughters used to book appointments. Now any given consultation could be left with standing room only, every seat occupied with a mother, daughter, mothers-in-law, fiancés, and wedding planners. The odd florist was even included from time to time. The process had become so convoluted they’d discussed charging for the additional mouths. Not to mention the time it took to come to an agreement on cake flavors, cake fillings, frosting flavors, and decorations with added input.

Even as they worked early mornings and late nights to book the new orders, orders placed in the last season were coming due, and so the kitchen was a hive of activity. As a result, tempers were short, and sarcasm was high. Nevertheless, Caroline knew she was lucky to have the staff she did. They worked well together despite the snippiness that prevailed under the stress. At the end of the season they would celebrate another year of success with dinner, drinks, and lots of laughs at each other’s expense. It almost made the drama worth it in the meantime.

Caroline stretched her feet out in front of her on the chaise and soaked in more sun. The sun was high in the sky and warm, despite the season. The warm, early fall they enjoyed was holding, so the cool late fall and early winter weather was kept at bay. She stifled a yawn and sidled a glance at her husband who rested quietly next to her on his own chaise. His chair was reclined fully back, and one arm was thrown over his face, covering his eyes. Sitting together with Malcolm this way was becoming a rare treat. She didn’t know if she liked that. She hadn’t considered really developing a relationship with him when Gloria had first proposed she accept a date with him under some rather interesting circumstances. But she’d definitely grown to enjoy his company. And his body. They may have left the honeymoon destination, but the feeling hadn’t left their bedroom. Smiling, she dragged her fingertips down the inside of his arm lightly. He shifted his weight and turned in his chair so that he was lying on his side, facing her. He opened his eyes to half mast and smiled.

“We should do this more often.”

“I couldn’t agree more. Maybe we should find us a sugar daddy. Then we could vegetate here all day, every day.” Caroline’s voice was teasing. She didn’t have any doubt that if either of them stopped working they would drive everyone around them crazy inside of a week. Though they had hobbies and interests, their love for their work helped define who they were.

Malcolm’s amused smile turned to a light frown. “If we had a sugar daddy, does that mean one of use would have to perform … favors?” He turned onto his back, pillowing his arms under his head. His brow furrowed as he contemplated the issue. “I fear that would have to be you, love,” he said in conclusion. “Because I have no idea how you do that thing with your tongue.”

“So, you’d just volunteer my affections to another man for your own wellbeing and comfort?” Caroline’s voice was incredulous.

“Volunteer your affections?” His voice was high with outrage. “Hell, no, I’d negotiate a hell of a selling price!” He laughed even as he was in danger of being dumped out of his chair. He caught Caroline’s arms and pulled her down on top of him.

He kissed her forehead as she descended and tucked her to his side. The chair protested the added weight. They ignored the creaking sounds.

In the distance, they heard the house phone ring. And then over the intercom: “Ms. Caroline, telephone for you.”

Groaning, Caroline debated whether she wanted to leave the cocoon of her husband’s arms. It could be the shop. Geoffrey hadn’t said who was calling. Kissing Malcolm hard but briefly she bounded off the chaise and into the living room. She grabbed the receiver off the desk where Geoffrey had balanced it and said breathlessly, “Hello?” No answer. “Hello?” Nothing. She held the phone from her face to check the small screen set into the handle. PRIVATE. “Hello?” Again, silence.

Caroline hung up the phone and pressed the intercom button. “Geoffrey, did they say who was calling?”

“No, Miss,” the disembodied voice replied. “Is there a problem?”

“No,” Caroline said. “Thank you.”

She replaced the receiver and almost immediately the phone rang again. Caroline jumped, and laughed. “Hello?” Again, silence. Again, PRIVATE. Taking the lighter approach, she teased. “Look, either you’re really shy or really lonely. Which is it? Stop calling me if you’re just going to tease me.”

“Oh, I intend to follow through. We need to talk. You have something I want, and I won’t stop until I get it. I’ll have a car at the south entrance to the park in one hour.”

Caroline laughed. She didn’t know if this prank was Gloria or Sarah’s idea, but after the last surprise, she wasn’t falling for it.

“And if I refuse?” she asked, laughing.

“You don’t want to do that. Not if you value your new family.”

Caroline stopped laughing. “Hey, if that’s supposed to be funny, your sense of humor stinks.” Where had they found this guy? Not only would she talk to the girls about this, but she intended to find out which service they used and give this guy’s boss a piece of her mind.

“Does it sound like I’m laughing? One hour.” The line went dead, and Caroline was again starring at the receiver. What the hell was this all about? The girls had really outdone themselves this time. She was going to have to consider appropriate payback.

Shrugging, she replaced the hand set and sauntered back to the patio. Where had she left her husband? Oh, yes. Caroline straddled his hips and smoothed her hand over his stomach, raising his shirt so that her hand was warmed by his skin underneath. “I had a great time last night,” she said. “Your mother would be proud.”

“And my father would roll in his grave,” Malcolm said with a smile of satisfaction. They’d slept late this morning in part because they hadn’t gotten in until almost 4:00 in the morning. They’d overseen the caterers dismantle their displays and the gallery owners secure their art before leaving the new women’s center. They’d locked the doors and had dragged themselves to the waiting car only after everyone had filed out. They’d promptly fallen asleep on the car ride home and had stumbled to the elevator only with the assistance of the doorman.

Last night had been the grand opening of the Graysan Potter Woman’s Center. The City was no stranger to centers and organizations determined to make a positive difference in the lives of countless abused, abandoned, and neglected women. But given the amount of inheritance Malcolm received as a result of his wedding, he’d been able to recruit the most amazing assistants to make his dream a reality. He’d sought out women with pasts similar to his mother’s to design everything, from the building to the services they would specialize in. They in turn had hired women like themselves to take on the responsibilities necessary to create and operate a center with an endowment larger than most Ivy League colleges. Malcolm had hired only one person beyond the initial core group of women to act as his liaison, so he was certain the center was indeed addressing those issues he thought his mother would approve.

The women had started by purchasing an old industrial condo downtown. The bottom floor was open and airy, and the upper floors offered plenty of room and board space as well as conference rooms and auditorium spaces for education classes.

In celebration of their achievement, they’d hosted a fundraising soiree with the money to benefit a college fund available to the children of the women who had already begun applying for services. For the affair, the staff had cleared the lower level of the building of any office related furniture and had brought in cocktail tables. They’d kept the affair light on decorations and instead had simple lighting highlight the magnificent natural beauty of the 19th century building. The lower level was completely open space save a few half walls. The ceilings were thirty feet high, and the exposed rafters above seemed to add another foot and a half to the measuring eye below. The plaster had been removed to make the room sound less like an auditorium. The exposed brick and hardwood rafters gave color and warmth and the added benefit of sound absorption. The floors were the original wide hardwood planks. Floor to ceiling windows allowed the glow from the candles to light the sidewalk, welcoming more than 500 guests.

To raise money for the college fund, the staff had arranged a two part collection. Though the affair was by invitation only, those who accepted also agreed to a $500 per plate donation. While enjoying cocktails, guests had the opportunity to peruse and purchase art on display by some of the world’s most talented up and coming artists. Gallery owners from across the world had been offered exhibit space. The college fund received 25% of each sale.

The atmosphere had been supportive, the music enchanting, and the food delicious. Caroline had provided the centerpiece cake, and many guests commented on her contribution to the art world. Malcolm couldn’t have agreed more. All in all, his plans to honor his mother had begun very well. He’d arranged for a board of volunteer trustees to manage the day-to-day existence of the center. And he had complete faith in the women who were hired to manage the center’s in-take, counseling, education, and legal services. He looked forward to seeing the results of the center’s good works.

“Thank you for all your work and support. I don’t think I could have done it without you.” He kissed Caroline’s head and squeezed her closer.

“Well, not without your father’s money anyway.” She grinned.

“True,” he said. He could have begun the center without his inheritance, but there was something poetic about taking someone’s most prized possession and using it for the thing they hated the most. In this case, taking his father’s money and using it support the independence and education of women.

****

“Isn’t it ironic that we met and married through the will of someone who didn’t support the sanctity of marriage?”

Malcolm smiled. “I had that thought even before we met. My father’s desire for me to marry before I could inherit always seemed off somehow. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Caroline raised her head and eyed him quizzically. “You don’t think…?”

“I don’t know. It just seemed a bizarre requirement. Since when did he care about being married or other people’s happiness for that matter?”

She laid her head back down. After a few minutes she shrugged. It didn’t really matter, did it? They were married; they’d created a wonderful organization to commemorate his mother, and life would go on.

“Let’s go sailing.”

“Today?” Malcolm seemed to ponder the idea, but then turned to her with a slight frown. “I was hoping we could, you know.” He waggled his eyebrows and gave her body a slow once-over. “It’s been hours.”

Caroline laughed. “So I noticed.” She brushed her lips against his chest, smoothing her hand over the front of his jeans, feeling the evidence of his arousal. Since the honeymoon, the sex between them had changed. It was still hot and incredibly sexy, but there was tenderness to it. A concentration on the process as much as the result. Caroline felt goose-bumps form on her arms as she thought about how wonderful it was to spend hours together, appreciating each curve, dip, and peak.

Malcolm pulled her body onto his, running his hands up and down her back. Caroline reciprocated, pulling his shirt free and working her hands beneath the material. His skin was silky and warm against her palms, the muscles shifting smoothly. Eager to feel more of him, she moved her hands down his waist to his belt. Fumbling with the clasp, she finally freed it and undid the button. Sliding down the zipper, she worked her hand inside.

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