Free The Marriage List by Jean Joachim Page B

until she motioned for him to raise them again waving the
can of mace at him.
    "I'm Delia Tucker, Carrie's aunt. But the
question is who are you?"
    "I'm Grey Andrews, her…ah…uh…boyfriend," he
said, grimacing at the inadequate word.
    "You're her new lover, aren't you?" A slow
smile swept over Delia's face.
    Grey blushed at the intimate term and nodded.
Delia lowered her weapon.
    "I guess you're okay," she said, capping the
small can of mace and returning it to her Gucci handbag.
    Grey returned to the hall to retrieve the
bags of food then walked back into the apartment and closed the
door. When he turned around, Delia was staring at him.
    "Hmmm, Brooks Brothers jacket and pants,
maybe L.L. Bean shirt? Gucci loafers, I'd know those anywhere," she
said, moving to one of the love seats and sitting down.
    "Excuse me a moment," Grey said, retreating
to the kitchen to unpack the food and put it away.
    Delia sauntered up to the kitchen
counter.
    "While you're there, do you know how to make
a Cosmo?" she asked, lifting her heavily-mascara'd eyelashes up to
widen her eyes.
    "I do. Does Carrie have the fixin's?"
    "Probably not, this cabinet is too small to
hold much," Delia said, rummaging through Carrie's liquor
supply.
    "Can I make you something else?" Grey asked,
pulling down two highball glasses.
    "It's warm…how about a vodka and tonic. Does
she have lime?"
    "She does. Bought it yesterday. Vodka and
tonic is my poison, too." Grey opened the refrigerator and plucked
out a lime.
    Delia stepped back to allow Grey access. He
pulled out the necessary bottles and cracked some ice from a tray.
In five minutes, he handed Delia a frosty glass and motioned her
back to the living room.
    "Delia… Carrie has mentioned you but hasn't
told me much…"
    "Maybe that's because you two don't spend
much time talking," she smirked.
    Grey looked at his drink as warmth crept up
his neck.
    "Come on…family here. Just teasing! She's
told me a lot about you. I'm her aunt, was married to her uncle,
the late Jackson Tucker for twenty-two years. I've been a widow for
five years." Delia's eyes misted and she directed her gaze out the
window.
    "I'm sorry."
    "I've been in the fashion business all my
life. Had a wonderful marriage but never had kids. Now I have
Carrie. She may be my niece, but she's more like a daughter to
me…especially since her parents are so far away."
    "I'm glad she has some family close by…"
    "And I want to tell you…if you break her
heart…if you mess with her, you mess with me, too," Delia said, her
eyes flashed at him.
    Grey laughed so hard he almost dropped his
drink.
    "What makes you think I'm going to break her
heart?"
    "You're a man, aren't you?" Delia narrowed
her eyes.
    "Ouch!"
    "Maybe that was a tad extreme but I'm very
fond of Carrie. She's quite a gal."
    "She is. She's amazing!" He took another sip
of his drink, keeping his eyes on Delia.
    "So why are you here at this hour and what
did you bring her?" she asked, crossing her long legs.
    "I brought food like I do most nights these
days. You're welcome to stay and join us…do you like cold salmon
and shrimp?"
    "Yum, I certainly do! I saw the Zabar's bag.
Do you always bring her food?"
    "She's working extra hard on a special
project at the agency. I get out early unless I have a deal
pending…so I'm feeding her," he explained, finishing his drink.
    "Isn't she lucky to have you! I'd love to
stay and share dinner, but then I'm off. I have an art gallery
opening to attend. I was going to try to take Carrie with me…she's
been working too hard. But I'm sure she'd much rather stay here
with you."
    "Maybe she should go…" he began, trying to be
diplomatic.
    "Nonsense. She'll have a better time here
with you. I hear you give one helluva foot massage," Delia said,
opening her eyes fully to stare at him.
    Grey covered his embarrassment by rising up
to take his glass to the sink.
    "Another drink?" he asked her, purposely
ignoring her remark.
    "There'll be alcohol at the