“Maybe,” Charlie said, willing to forgive her for being tough on him. What she was doing, hand to hand, was more important, he thought, than anything he'd done in his entire lifetime. All he did was sign checks and give away money. She was in the trenches with those kids every day, fighting for their lives. “She has no patience with the way we all live, the things we do. She's practically a saint, Gray.” Charlie sounded convinced of it, and Gray looked suspicious.
“I thought you said she went to Princeton. She's probably from some fancy family, trying to atone for their collective sins.”
“I don't think so. My guess is that she went there on a scholarship. There were a lot of people like her when I was there, and more lately. It's not as elitist as it used to be. And that's a good thing. Besides, she said she hated Princeton.” Although the eating club she'd been in had been a good one. But there were many ways to get in. Even Princeton was no longer the good old boys' club it used to be. The world had changed, and people like Carole had changed it. He was a throwback to another era, living off the glory of his aristocratic family. Carole was a whole new breed.
“Why don't you ask her out?” Gray encouraged him, and Sylvia agreed. “Or is she a dog?” That hadn't occurred to him, given the way Charlie was raving about her. Somehow he had assumed that she was attractive. He couldn't imagine Charlie getting excited about an ugly woman, although maybe in this case he had. He described her like Mother Teresa.
“No, she's very beautiful, although I don't think she gives a damn about that either. She doesn't have patience for much in her life, except the real thing.” And in her eyes, he knew, he wasn't it, although he knew she hadn't really given him a fair chance, and probably never would. He was nothing more than the head of the foundation to her.
“What does she look like?” Sylvia asked with interest.
“She's about six feet tall, blond, pretty face, blue eyes, good figure, no makeup. She says she swims and plays squash when she has time. She's thirty-four years old.”
“Not married?” Sylvia inquired.
“I don't think so. She wasn't wearing a ring, and I didn't get that impression, though I doubt that she's alone.” A woman who looked like her couldn't be, he told himself, which made it even more ridiculous to invite her to dinner. Although he could pretend it was for foundation business, and learn more about her then. It was a ruse that appealed to him somewhat, although he felt dishonest hiding behind the foundation to get to know her better. But maybe Sylvia and Gray were right, and it was worth a shot.
“You never know with women like that,” Sylvia said wisely. “Sometimes they give up a lot to support their causes. If she puts that much time and energy and passion into what she does, it may be all she's got.”
“Find out,” Gray said, encouraging him again. “Why not? You've got nothing to lose. Check it out.” Charlie felt weird talking about her, and sharing it with them. He felt vulnerable discussing her with them, and more than a little foolish.
By the time Gray brought out a bottle of Château d'Yquem Sylvia had bought for them, they almost had Charlie convinced, but as soon as he got home that night, he knew how foolish it was to think of inviting Carole to dinner. He was too old for her, too rich, too conservative, too established. And whatever her background was, it was obvious that she had no interest in guys like him. She had even laughed at him about his watch. He couldn't even imagine telling her he had a yacht, although most people in his world had heard about the
He called Gray the next morning to thank them for dinner, and tell him what a nice time he'd had. He had no idea where their relationship was going, or if it would last, he doubted it, but for now it seemed like a nice thing for both of them. And he was relieved to see that Sylvia wasn't trying to interfere or shut him out. He said as much to Gray, who was happy to hear Charlie so relaxed about Sylvia, and promised to have him over again soon.
“Your cooking has even improved,” Charlie teased, and Gray laughed.
“She helped,” he confessed, as Charlie chuckled.
“Thank God.”
“Don't forget to call Mother Teresa and invite her out to dinner,” Gray reminded him, and Charlie paused for a minute, and then laughed hollowly this time.
“I think we all had a lot to drink last night. It sounded good, but it doesn't sound like such a hot idea in the bright light of day.”
