All He Needs. Shirley Hailstock
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And now she was returning to New York. It made sense that she would return to the city—New York was a publishing powerhouse.
Carter returned to his desk and picked up the office phone. He dialed a number and waited. Blair Massey answered on the first ring.
“Good, you’re still there,” he said without saying hello. It was seven o’clock, but Blair often worked late. He and Blair had known each other for years. She was a wizard at what she did, and she had mentored Renee. If anyone knew the whole story, it would be Blair.
“I was just on my way out.”
“Meet me in the lobby.” It was a suggestion, and Carter tried to keep the command tone out of his voice. He hung up.
Blair was waiting when he stepped out of the small paneled room. The fifty-year-old woman looked serious, although she was as impeccably dressed as any model on the fashion pages.
“Carter, I was trying to tell you I already have dinner plans,” Blair said. She checked her watch. “And I’m already late.”
He took her arm and moved her out of the parade of people. “Where are you eating?”
“At Moonraker’s.”
“Good, I’ll walk with you.”
He rushed her along, heading for the door and 48th Street. Blair stopped abruptly and moved to the side. “What’s going on?”
“Renee Hart,” he answered.
Blair’s expression didn’t alter more than a millimeter, but the slow breath she exhaled told him she knew.
“What about Renee?” Blair hedged.
“Is she going into competition with us?”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“It doesn’t matter. Answer the question.”
“She’s starting a magazine. It’s small stuff. We have no need for alarm.”
“I’m not alarmed.”
“Then why did you rush down from the 38th floor?”
“The news came as a surprise. How long have you known?”
“A couple of weeks,” she said.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She searched his face a long time. Carter held his expression still.
“It didn’t seem that important. When the Weaver Group opened a magazine that competed with our how-to series on home improvement, you didn’t consider it newsworthy. Why is Renee’s small entry into the bridal market cause for concern? She hasn’t even chosen the name of the publication yet. Unless your interest has nothing to do with the business...”
Blair was aware of Carter’s past relationship with Renee. He’d never spoken a word to her about it, but Renee was her friend, and women talked.
She checked her watch. “I’m going to be late. Carter, if you’re really interested, I’ll find out what I can and call you after dinner.”
“Find out?” he said. “Is Renee here? Are you having dinner with her?”
Blair looked at the sky, exasperated that she’d let him guess who she was meeting.
“I’m going,” he said and took her arm. Carter should have thought better of it, but when had he ever been rational where Renee was concerned?
“Carter,” Blair said. “She may not want to see you.”
Carter stopped and thought about that a moment. “More than likely, she doesn’t.”
* * *
Renee loved to walk in Manhattan. The theater crowds were assembling for the eight o’clock performances. While the sun wouldn’t set for another two hours, the streets looked like a parade was about to begin. Cabs blew horns, creating their own music, and Renee smiled as she took in the familiarity. She loved New York. She’d missed it. While Princeton had the university and its own personality, New York was incomparable.
Reaching the restaurant, Renee pulled the door open. She stopped the moment she stepped through it. Blair wasn’t alone.
She was sitting with Carter.
Renee’s throat went dry. Even with his back to her, Renee knew it was him. She wanted to turn and run. Every fiber in her body screamed at her to go, back out and walk away. No, run away. But her feet refused to follow instructions.
Then it was too late. Carter glanced into the mirrored surface in front of him and made eye contact. Spasms of memories raced into her. Time that had stood still for three years was unleashed. Memories of their entwined bodies on rumpled sheets broke, freely expanding into a new and confusing world.
Renee mentally shook herself. Carter was her past, her old life—not her present, and certainly not her future. She smiled widely and waved, and Carter turned around. The restaurant was dimly lit. She couldn’t see the defined features of his expression, but she was sure he’d known she was coming. Blair must have told him, invited him to attend dinner with them.
Her feet suddenly got the message and she moved toward the table. Seeing Carter again had to happen sometime. She would have liked to have been more prepared for it, but tonight was as good a night as any.
He stood as she approached the table. Blair came around and hugged her.
“Carter, this is an unexpected surprise,” Renee said. She put her hand out for him to shake, warding off any chance that he might try to hug or kiss her. She didn’t want even the simplest embrace from him.
“How are you, Renee?” he asked.
His voice could be her undoing. It was as deep as she remembered it—in the dark of night, after they’d made love, she loved listening to him talk. She thought of the way the sound surrounded her, caressed her like a physical being that could capture and hold her. Renee felt the heat rise in her face and the burn of her ears. She forced the thoughts back.
“Let’s sit down,” Blair said.
Blair returned to the banquette seat. Renee took a step to follow her, but Carter pulled out the chair next to him. She looked at it for a second before sitting down. This close to him, she could feel the warmth of his hands near her shoulders.
“Blair tells me you’ve been working in New Jersey,” Carter began as soon as the waiter took her drink order.
She glanced at Blair, a silent admonishment in her eyes. “Weddings by Diana,” she told him. “It’s a consulting firm. I thought I’d see what the other side of the table looked like.”
“But