Marriage of Convenience (11 page)

He imagined Caroline, skin damp and steaming, wrapping herself in one his towels. Next time, he thought, he would do the drying. He would go slow, taking time to pamper every inch of her body. He’d start with her sweet perky breasts, move to her flat stomach and narrow waist, and then to her long lean legs. He hadn’t known red-heads could tan, but he was very appreciative of whatever genetic twist had allowed it to happen. Moving on to the living room, he walked through the sunlit room to the kitchen.

****

Caroline dressed with care. Once she’d determined the day, Geoffrey had generously offered to swing by her place and pick up fresh clothes. She’d planned the day with a variety of activities, and she didn’t want to be that woman who carries her wardrobe with her or complains because she’s unprepared. In deference to the season, she chose a calf length brown suede skirt, knee high brown leather boots, and a thin long-sleeved sweater of gray, beige, and off white. The boots were her favorite. Though they sported a nicely pointed toe, the heel was not obnoxious. She could easily walk all day and not feel the need for a soothing foot bath at the end of the day. She often wore them when she was catering; she liked to be on the floor mixing with clients and potential clients. She had to fit the part. Not a fan of makeup she chose only a light gloss. She pursed her lips, sprayed a little Angel onto the base of her throat, behind her ears, wrists, and knees and opened the bathroom door.

Malcolm was nowhere in sight. She walked through the living room and to the left toward the balcony. The balcony stretched the length of the apartment with several entrances and exits into different rooms. She knew the one behind her was off the bedroom, and the one she came out of was off the living room. She hadn’t explored the other yet. The balcony was wide and had been decorated with several sitting areas, some in the shade and others in the sun. Potted plants and trellises served to divide the areas. Caroline smiled at the image of Malcolm on his hands and knees caring for the plants. She walked to the balcony ledge and leaned forward taking in the view and basking in the sun.

“Does this explain how a red-head gets a tan?”

Malcolm came out of the third balcony entrance carrying two cups of coffee in to-go cups. “Given your career choice, I figured you liked it light and sweet. If not, I can get you another.”

Caroline smiled. “I get my hair color from my father’s side and my skin from my mother’s side. When I was young I hated my hair. It took me a long time to feel comfortable with it. It did help, when I got to my teen years, that I did tan. I didn’t feel so awkward.”

“I can’t imagine you awkward. You’re beautiful.” Malcolm handed her a coffee and tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

“Well, thank you, but I was very different from everyone else in my family. I wasn’t the daughter my mother had hoped for. It’s taken some time for me to understand that and realize there’s not much I can do about it.”

“I can’t believe that. You’re so accomplished. How can she not be proud?”

“Perfect,” Caroline said as she sipped the hot liquid. Of course he had to-go cups on hand. She was beginning to see parts of him she hadn’t seen the night before. He was very detail oriented. She smiled as she turned to look over the City again. A celebrated cake designer and decorator, what set her work apart from others’ was the detail, the careful, thought-out creativity. She planned, thought, and re-planned. And she was flexible enough to change plans mid-execution if she had a new idea or if something wasn’t coming together as she’d hoped.

“What’s funny?” Malcolm stood next to her as she looked out at the slowly increasing number of people on the street. The City was waking up.

Caroline laughed, and she turned to face him. “I was just thinking of the cups that I have and how it’s great to see in you a lot of the things I see in myself. You’re very unique—don’t get me wrong—but it’s comforting to see familiar traits. I like it.”

“Gosh, I hate to think I bore you, that I’m too predictable.” Malcolm smiled as he said it.

Caroline threw her head back and laughed loudly. “You couldn’t be if you tried! You’re too honest. You’re just you, and it’s so very refreshing.”

“Well, I’m glad. Otherwise I’d have to rethink my whole plan.” Malcolm smiled and held out his elbow. “Shall we go?”

Caroline slipped her arm through his and pressed her cheek to his shoulder briefly. “Let’s do it.”

They spent an hour over breakfast. They discovered a mutual love of cinnamon French toast with apple marmalade.

Holding hands, they walked south to the Hell’s Kitchen Flea Market.

“So what area constitutes ‘Hell’s Kitchen’?” Malcolm asked as they walked. He loved the City and had spent many of his formative years exploring his Upper East Side neighborhood and the historic tourist attractions as well. He loved walking the Brooklyn Bridge as much as he loved riding the ferry out to Ellis Island. He’d walked the financial district, the fish market, and even the fashion district. It seemed that every corner opened up to a new layer of interesting sights, sounds, and smells. But he couldn’t recall venturing into Hell’s Kitchen. He figured the name alone would have made it memorable.

Caroline explained its history. Hell’s Kitchen ran from 34th Street to 59th Street, and stretched from 8th Avenue to the Hudson River. The early home to many Irish immigrants, the neighborhood today provided transportation, hospital, and warehouse infrastructure support to the Midtown Manhattan business district. Its gritty reputation resulted from its rough and tumble days during the Great Depression. Its history of ethnic conflicts formed the basis of the musical and film West Side Story.

The neighborhood was probably most immediately known to him from movies like Sleepers.

“A lot of actors actually live out this way,” said Caroline. “It’s close to Broadway and the Actors’ Studio.”

“No kidding. We should get a map,” Malcolm said thoughtfully as though he intended to launch a long-term expedition of the area.

Caroline giggled. “You want to play tourist?”

Malcolm looked over at her and laughed. “Sure, why not? How often do you get a chance to wander the City?”

“Not often,” Caroline said, sounding a little disappointed. “Hey,” she asked, renewed excitement in her voice, “if we’re tourists, does that mean we’re on vacation?”

“Feels like it to me,” Malcolm said. They were stopped at a corner, waiting for the walk signal to indicate the road would be moderately safe to cross. He stretched his arms out away from his sides and arched his back. “I feel no stress today.” He stepped behind Caroline as the crowd closed in and wrapped his arms around her. She folded her hands over his and leaned into him. Malcolm’s mouth found her ear. “If we’re on vacation, shouldn’t we be having lots of sex?”

Caroline laughed and turned in his arms, as though oblivious to the crowd around them. “I think you’re right,” she whispered against his mouth.

“If we catch a cab back up town,” Malcolm whispered back, “we could still have the whole afternoon.”

Pulling her face back, Caroline looked at him sternly. “Are you trying to sabotage my date plans? I’d hate for you to be telling our story to our friends years from now and have me look like the slacker.”

Malcolm looked at her in surprise. “Honestly,” he said, “I was just trying to get you into bed again.”

Slipping her hand between them, Caroline ran her hand lightly over his zipper and kissed him. “At least you’re honest.” They smiled through the kiss. Pulling her closer, Malcolm growled, “You either need to put your mouth where your hand is, or step back, woman.”

Smiling brightly, Caroline stepped back. “I hate to be a tease, but we do have places to be today. Patience, grasshopper.” She turned back toward the street in time to see the walk sign change and felt the surge of the crowd press forward. Falling in line with her fellow pedestrians, Caroline took Malcolm’s hand. He hesitated long enough that she looked back over her shoulder to see him, and he knew he was pouting, a disappointed look on his face. Laughing, she tugged him firmly to her side and, wrapping her arms around his, led him down the sidewalk toward the Flea Market.

“Ready for a break?” They’d spent the better part of an hour and a half perusing the stalls of the Hell’s Kitchen Flea Market. Malcolm had lingered over some modern art while Caroline had admired some of the vintage clothing. Neither had made a purchase, but they’d enjoyed the fall weather and each other’s company.

“That sounds wonderful. How about some coffee?”

“I know just the place. It can be a little crowded in the early afternoon, but it’s worth the wait. Are you ready for a treat?”

“There’s more sweetness to come? It’s been such a treat to share this morning with you. I can’t remember a more relaxing morning.” Malcolm took her hand in his as he spoke, pulling her to his side. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, their hips gently bumping as they walked.

Caroline raiser her hand to slip into his as it hung from her shoulder. “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me feel. I didn’t know if this would be too slow for you. But it’s a little part of me that I wanted to share.”

“I love it,” he said, smiling down at her. They stopped at the corner, kissing briefly.

“You’re distracting me again,” Caroline said in a mocking tone.

“Me? I was just waiting for directions. Lead on.”

“Well then, head east, my good man.”

They crossed the street, headed for the Cupcake Cafe.

An hour later, filled with hot coffee and maple walnut cupcakes and chocolate buttercream, they headed back into the street. The weather had warmed, and they stood close together on the sidewalk, their faces turned up to the sun.

“This is good reading weather,” Caroline said as she opened her eyes. Malcolm’s face was still upturned, and she leaned her face into his shoulder, feeling the sun warm her back. “Stretch out on a lounge chair on a roof terrace in the sun and lose yourself in a story.”

“Sounds great,” Malcolm said. “Is that our next event?”

“Oh no, you’re mine to command, remember? And I command you to dance!” Caroline whipped away from him, lifting her leg and touching it down in an exaggerated tango step.

“Dancing, huh? You’re living dangerously, lady.” Malcolm eyed her pose skeptically. “Are you prepared to spend the evening in the hospital? I promise I’ll take off your toes.”

“Nonsense,” Caroline said, reaching her hand back for him. He took it, and she pulled him up behind her, turning her head so she could kiss his cheek. “You simply haven’t had the right teacher.”

“Your confidence is very sexy,” he whispered in her ear. “I only hope you’re right.”

They took Bus 42 east to 1 south and stepped back into the sun at W21st Street.

“Okay, orient me again,” Malcolm said. Even if nothing came of the day’s events, he had to admit he was seeing parts of the City he had had no idea existed. With all its nooks and crannies he wasn’t surprised, but he was fascinated and made a silent promise to make time to explore more of the City. He was active on a number of social boards, but he was only now realizing how narrow their scope must be to miss some of these sites.

“You’re a couple of blocks west of the Flatiron District and Union Square. And Gramercy Park is over there.” Caroline pointed toward the park, though being surrounded by skyscrapers, she was pointing to a building.

The mention of the Flatiron District brought back memories of the previous evening’s dinner, and they were lost in their own thoughts for a few seconds.

“I really enjoyed dinner last night,” Caroline said softly.

“Me, too. We should do it again,” Malcolm said.

Taking his hand, Caroline led him across the sidewalk. “We should work up an appetite then.” She led him to a brown brick building, five stories tall.

They walked to the third floor of the building, passing various offices as they climbed. Inside the door of the studio, Caroline exchanged her boots for a pair of strappy heels. Malcolm was asked to wear men’s dress shoes. He didn’t hesitate, handing over his own shoes in exchange. Still feeling warm from memories of the previous night’s dinner, he was determined to make the most of every experience Caroline offered. He hadn’t spent much time thinking about the decision he had to make, and he thought that was probably a good sign. Nevertheless, he told himself, he needed to focus and prepare himself for what was to come.

His phone vibrated softly in his pocket. Pulling it out, he glanced at the screen as Caroline slipped into her shoes. Gloria. Again, it seemed. The number “14” beside her name indicated she’d called thirteen times prior to this latest ping. He’d been so involved he hadn’t felt the vibration earlier. Pressing the button on the top of the phone, he stopped the buzzing, sending Gloria to voicemail.

“Do you need to take it?” Caroline had finished putting on her shoes and was waiting for him to do the same. She lounged on one of the benches that lined the wall of the dance floor, one leg swung over the other. The thigh-high slit in her skirt had allowed the fabric to ride up her leg, offering him a delightful view of her thigh.

“Nope. What I need is for you to come with me.” Malcolm wasn’t sure where his new-found confidence came from as he led her onto the dance floor, but he thought perhaps it was the atmosphere of the place. Along the length of the far wall was a mural of old fashioned fancy-dressed dancers. Though there were three windows facing the street, the ceiling was low, and an antique chandelier gave off minimal light. The result was a cozy warm glow that set the backdrop for the sexy dance that took place within. As they took their position on the floor with the other dancers, Malcolm noticed the wall opposite him was all mirrors. Though he thought he’d feel nervous as reality set in, he admired Caroline’s backside in the mirror and felt himself relax.

In his ear, Caroline said “The owner’s name is Carina. She’s been dancing for years, and she only teaches Argentine Tango. She’s a fantastic teacher.”

Caroline stopped talking as Carina took the floor. “Good afternoon. Welcome to Triangulo. Let’s get started. We’re going to start with inline partner walking and then work in an ocho.”