The Sometime Bride

else holding each of them back. Mike couldn’t put his finger on it exactly. But his gut told him it had to do with more than just the faux-fiancé game going on between them.
    Mike heaved a heavy sigh and flipped on the cold water. What was it about Carrie St. John that always left him all wet?

    Carrie rolled over in bed and lazily lifted her cell. “Hello?”
    “A dillar, a dollar…”
    “Grandma Russell?” Carrie asked, her head pounding. She squinted against the bright light streaming in through the tilted Venetian blinds.
    “Lands sakes, child, did I wake you? I thought you investment types were up catching worms well before dawn!”
    Carrie reached out her free hand and angled her clock radio toward her so she could read the time. Ten thirty. She’d missed her nine-thirty appointment. Carrie’s head fell back against her pillow with a thunk.
    “No, Grandma.” She held aside the receiver and yawned. “Been up for hours.”
    “Well, sweetheart, you’re not really sounding too chipper.”
    “Just a stress headache,” Carrie said, massaging her throbbing temple. “It will get better.” Already, Carrie was making a mental list of all the conference calls she’d have to rearrange. Mondays! What a mess!
    She must have been exhausted. Totally wiped out from her weekend experiences. And it was all Mike Davis’s fault.
    “Well, maybe my cheery bit of news will leave you feeling better… That fiancé of yours—”
    Carrie sat bolt upright in bed, not knowing quite what to expect.
    “—is such a doll. You’ll never believe what that Wilson did!”
    “No, I probably wouldn’t,” Carrie said, meaning it absolutely.
    “He sent the sweetest note—with the flowers.”
    “Flowers?”
    “Yes, indeed, perfectly gorgeous arrangement. Must have cost the man a fortune, but, of course, like you’ve told us, the man is dirty rich, so it really is the thought that counts.”
    Carrie’s temples constricted and pounded anew. “Filthy, Grandma. The term is fil—”
    “Well, now, sweetie, you may call the man a dirty rascal if you want to for outfoxing you with this sweet surprise, but I wouldn’t go as far as to insult his personal hygiene. In fact, he looked exceptionally well-groomed to me!”
    Carrie’s head thumped back against the headboard, ramrodding the base of her skull with another lightning bolt of pain. Flowers? He’d sent flowers? How in the world would she ever explain breaking off an engagement to a wonderfully thoughtful man like him now! Her grandmother was totally smitten! “It was a very sweet gesture, but I’d caution you against taking anything he said too much to heart.”
    “To heart?” Grandmother Russell shot back. “The man has a heart the size of Nebraska! Looking forward to being a part of your beautiful family was what he said. Brought tears to Nellie’s eyes it did. Real tears, not just the ones she sometimes puts on during confession.”
    Carrie sighed and squeezed shut her eyes, wondering how on earth she was going to get out of this mess, while her grandmother continued to wax poetic on “Wilson’s” attributes.
    “Wasn’t that just the most eloquent…”
    Carrie could practically feel the steam blowing out of her ears. Nice job, Mike Davis! Playing the perfect gentleman and leaving poor Carrie holding the bag. The time for beating herself up over her own duplicity had ended. Now Mike was the one with the answering to do. And Carrie was going to see to it personally he did some talking.

    Mike was just going out to get his mail when Carrie roared into his apartment’s parking lot like a storm cloud on the wings of—holy cow—a new-model BMW convertible. She did have money. And lots of it.
    That wasn’t the only thing, Mike saw, backing up a step as she leapt from her car and made for him like a thunderbolt. “You!”
    Mike inched back toward the mailbox. He’d never seen a woman so positively incensed. Not even any of the several who’d dumped him.
    “Hi, Carrie,” he offered lamely, as she walked right up to his chin, then poked him in the chest.
    “Thanks…one…whole…heck…of a…lot!” she said, emphasizing each word with the pressure of her pointy finger. “You, Mike Davis, have single-handedly ruined my existence!”
    “Hey, whoa…” He tried to lay a steadying hand on her shoulder but backed off when the look in her eye told him she just might bite it off.
    “What right,” she asked, again with the pointy finger