Kiriakis Mansion
August 26, 1998
3:45 P.M.
"Last chance, Carrie."
They were sitting in the Corvette outside of the house, and Mike was holding her hand. Carrie took a deep breath and sighed. She felt him squeeze her palm ever so gently and she let her fingers twine with his. She thought briefly about how he would react if she told him she'd much rather he whisk her away to someplace, any place but here. But he was here with her and she wasn't afraid or upset in the least.
"Moment of truth, Mike," Carrie replied, "This is for the future."
She leaned over and kissed his cheek, then she wiped away the lipstick imprint she'd left. Their eyes held each other's for a brief moment. She smiled tentatively and he nodded. She unlaced her fingers from his and opened the door. In one fluid movement she swung her legs out of the car and rose to her feet. Mike was by her side before she'd taken two steps.
"Hey," he reminded her in a softly jesting voice, "I'm your escort, remember?"
She gave him that magnificent smile and linked her arm through his.
"I don't know what I'd do without you, Mike." She looked serene, but he could feel her shaking.
"I'm not going anywhere, Carrie." He covered her hand with his own. It was the closest he'd come to an admission of love and it was the most he would allow himself at this moment.
"Good," she replied softly, not daring to look him in the eye, "I would really feel like there was something missing in my life if you weren't part of it."
They walked towards the back of the house in companionable silence. Neither of them had really listened to what the other had said, and both were scared that they'd revealed too much. But they couldn't let go of each other. It felt right for them to be together.
Gus headed straight for the appetizers. She fully intended to stuff herself and quiet that little nagging voice in the pit of her stomach that demanded to be fed. Her inability to think on an empty stomach was not something that she'd ever overcome, and it showed up at the worst times, like right now.
She looked over the available dainties and found herself drawn to the canapés. She picked one up and popped it into her mouth. As the flavor of roe flooded her mouth, a faint memory of the last time she'd eaten this kind of food; she'd been pregnant with Claire. Perhaps it was just the shock of seeing her daughter again so unexpectedly that brought it on. And Gus usually ate when she was nervous or upset. Unforgivable habit, but it didn't affect her adversely.
She selected a tiny cream puff pastry and turned around to nibble on it as she watched the interactions of the family and friends gathered for the wedding.
There was the mother of the bride, Dr. Marlena Evans Craig Brady almost-Black, decked out in a burgundy dress with matching beading, talking to Maggie. Gus was decidedly split in her opinion of Marlena. The woman was sweet and quite lovely, but she lacked a certain sense of practicality that Gus required of people who aspired to win her respect. Marlena and Roman had been having problems for over a decade now that could have been solved by a simple heart-to-heart talk. Thank God Anna wasn't still tangled up in that mess.
And there was the father of the bride, Roman Brady himself, walking towards her.
"Gus Fredericks," he exclaimed as he gave her a quick squeeze, "How are you?"
"Just fine, Roman," she replied. "How are you holding up?"
Roman took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm not sure. Can't say that I like this man that Sami's engaged to and I wish she'd give herself more time."
"I understand," Gus replied. "So, where's Billie?"
Roman's head whipped around and Gus sensed more than saw the suspicion in his eyes. "What do you mean, where's Billie?"
"A bit touchy today, aren't we, Brady?"
Roman leaned back against the table and folded his arms. There was a tense silence for the better part of a moment, then, "I haven't seen her since two days ago. She said she would be here for Sami's wedding and she just skipped town."
"I see," Gus said neutrally. Perhaps now would not be the best time to deliver Shane's message. "So, Roman, I've been hearing all about you sister, Kimberly. Would you introduce me to her?"
Roman looked at her carefully. "Shane's been talking about her again?"
"All the time," Gus replied, her voice full of unspoken implications.
He nodded. "No problem."
Roman walked away from the table and Gus seized the opportunity to try one of the brie twists. Not bad. I should come to parties like this more often.
"I see you're enjoying yourself."
Gus' jaw stopped in mid-munch. She turned around slowly and let out a sigh. A few more swallows and she could speak without fear of embarrassment.
"Dr. Wesley, what are you doing here?"
The tone was light, almost flippant. Craig grinned. How he loved a challenge. Before she could stop him, he reached around her and plucked a cracker spread with smoked salmon and cheddar from the tray she was blocking. Gus silently fumed as his breath skimmed her neck.
"I might ask the same of you, Gus," he answered before he popped the cracker into his mouth.
She set her jaw. "We are by no means on such intimate terms, Dr. Wesley."
He flashed that grin at her again and Gus felt her stomach do a flip-flop. He bypassed her natural defenses yet again as he leaned in close and whispered, "Not yet, anyway."
She shied away quickly, putting as much distance between the two of them as she could while still being able to control the volume of the conversation. "Not ever."
"Gus, baby," he murmured, placing his hand over his heart, "You wound my pride."
She shot him a glance that could have pulverized a brick. Her lips curved with disdain as she replied, "Believe me, Dr. Wesley, your 'pride' isn't the only thing I will be wounding if you continue on in this indecent manner. I would never contemplate getting involved with you for a moment."
"Never say never, Gus," he teased. He arched an eyebrow as he looked her up and down. "Are you planning to pull a gun on me, too? It's pretty hard to hide something that big in a dress that small."
She smirked. "So nice to know that your eyesight's not going, Dr. Wesley."
"That dress reveals enough of you for me to make an educated guess, Gus," he answered. Once again he leaned in close and whispered in her ear, "And the rest I imagine would be just as tasty."
To drive his point home, he held up a strawberry coated in chocolate and popped it into his mouth. With another grin and a wink, he was gone.
Gus blushed furiously as the blood flooded to her cheeks. Uncivilized, impolite and utterly rude man! She wanted to whip out her Glock and shoot out his kneecaps in an attempt to ignore the fact that her face wasn't the only part of her body that was heating up. God, she hadn't been so turned on in years!
"Gus?"
She turned her head and found Roman and a very attractive woman looking at her curiously.
"What was that all about?" Roman asked.
"That was Dr. Wesley," Gus replied. "Do you have any idea why he's here?"
"I think he was the one who treated Will when Lucas dropped him," the woman supplied.
Roman remembered his introductions: "Augusta Fredericks, I would like you to meet my sister Kim. Kim, this is my good friend, Gus."
"Pleased to meet you," Gus said and extended her hand. Kim and Gus shook hands warmly.
Kim looked at her carefully "Any relation to Anna Fredericks?"
"She's my sister," Gus replied, amused at Kim's instant reaction of surprise.
"How is Anna, anyway?" Roman asked, curious as to how his ex-wife was doing.
"She's well," Gus replied. "She's married currently and she has had another child."
"Really?" Kim asked, "Who did she marry?"
"A man named Nigel Alamain," Gus said.
The look of utter shock on Roman and Kim's faces was priceless.
"As in 'Laurence and Vivian Alamain'?" they asked in unison.
Gus nodded, stifling her laughter. "Yes, Nigel is the baby brother of Vivian and. . . Leopold, I believe his name was."
Roman shook his head. "Imagine that."
"She was so unhappy that she couldn't be here for Carrie's wedding last year, but the notice was a bit short."
Roman scratched the back of his neck and Kim looked at the ground, biting her upper lip. Neither looked happy.
"Yeah," Roman agreed, "I think that was one of the rasher decisions Carrie's made in the past year." Gus decided not to press the issue. He looked around and saw someone else he needed to talk to. "Would you ladies excuse me?"
They both nodded and Roman went off in another direction.
"So, tell me, who does the wedding party consist of?" Gus asked.
"The groom's name is Franco Kelly," Kim answered, "Eric is going to be the best man and this girl named Nicole Walker is going to be the maid of honor."
"Is Roman giving her away?"
"He's agreed to," Kim said, "Although I don't think he's happy about it."
"He doesn't past the Brady muster?"
Kim smiled ruefully. "The last time Franco and Sami were together in public Sami was shot at."
Gus' eyebrows went up. "Really?"
"Yeah. It was just a flesh wound, but it was enough to get Roman to come home to Salem to try and protect her." Kim smiled at her. "I'm really pleased to have met you, Augusta. Would you excuse me?"
"Sure," Gus said, and smiled back.
As Kim walked away, Gus found herself piecing together what Kim and Roman had told her.
So, someone took a shot at Sami, but what if it was intended for Franco? That would mean that the Moronis are only interested in putting on a public display. But what if the shot had been intended for Sami, and the hitman was supposed to make it look like Franco was the target? The only reason for shooting Sami was the possibility that it would draw Roman away from Switzerland. . .
Gus selected another brie twist and bit into it heartily. As she chewed these thoughts swirled around in her mind.
The only way to find out is to learn as much as I can here and try to find out what's on the Moroni agenda.
Mike and Carrie were sitting on a secluded bench that was mostly hidden from the rest of the party by a tall stand of bushes and ivy. It was peaceful in this little nook of the Kiriakis mansion's gardens. A little stone fountain set in the wall bubbled happily as the afternoon sunlight slanted down on them both, turning Carrie's hair to honey and Mike's to gold.
Carrie hadn't especially wanted to mingle at the moment and Mike was more than willing to keep her company. His arm was around her as she rested her head on his shoulder. Slowly, he reached up and began to stroke her hair.
"What's this?" she asked finally, pulling a lacy garter out of the breast pocket of his jacket.
Mike laughed in a self-deprecating manner. "That is the garter from your wedding."
"I can't believe you have it with today of all days," she said, chuckling in a low tone.
Mike took it from her and put it back in his pocket. "Well, I was hoping to catch another one today and show off my collection. Do you know if there's any superstition attached to garters? Maybe I catch three or more and I'll never get married or something like that?"
Carrie slugged him playfully. "I firmly believe in bouquets and garters! After all, Sami caught mine and she's getting married before Jennifer. . ."
"So that means that I'm the next to be married, eh?"
"Looks like it, Mike," Carrie said and slapped his knee gently. "Any girl would be proud to call you her husband."
Mike hesitated as he contemplated his response. "Then it's too bad I'm out of prospects."
Carrie didn't answer. She chewed on the inside of her lip and fiddled with the lapel of his tuxedo. Her index finger traced the soft petals of the rose her was wearing. She wanted to unbutton his shirt and slip her hand inside to stroke his skin. It was dangerous for her to be entertaining such thoughts, and on her wedding anniversary.
Suddenly she didn't feel so sure about her decision to leave Austin. What would her family and friends think of her? She had promised to love, honor and cherish Austin, and she found herself wishing that it was Mike, who was holding her in his arms and making her go insane as he stroked her hair and her back, who was her husband.
Carrie wished there was an easy way out of this whole mess.
"What are you thinking, Carrie?" he asked softly.
She was silent for a moment. She desperately wanted to shout that she loved him, that she wanted to stay like this forever, that she didn't want the world to see them because it could never understand what was happening to her. She wanted him to hold her close and never let her go.
"I'm thinking about how right it is to be in your arms," she said in a barely audible voice.
His hand stilled. It was a totally unexpected admission. She wasn't looking at him, she wasn't making any move to get away from him. Mike didn't know what to do. But somehow, the words came to him. . .
"I know."
He held her close as she buried her face in his jacket. He kissed the top of her head.
Carrie raised her eyes to look at him. She saw it in his eyes. What she'd been ignoring for the past year. What she'd been praying would be there when she'd said those words. What she'd been looking for all of her life. She was too afraid to speak at that moment, sure that anything she might say would sound pitifully inadequate in comparison to what she was feeling.
So she let her eyes speak for her.
I love you, they whispered and shouted at the same time. Listen to me, and understand what I'm telling you! I've made so many mistakes and I can't let this moment pass me by. This is my chance to tell you just how much you mean to me, how truly blind I've been. Please, Mike, tell me that it's not too late. . .
Tears started to pool in the corners of her eyes, and one of them trickled down her cheek.
"Carrie," Mike whispered, as his finger brushed the lone tear away, "why are you crying?"
Her hand came up and her fingers intertwined with his. She brought their hands to her chest and pressed his to her heart. She swallowed with difficulty as she screwed up her courage, willing herself to say what she had to say.
"Mike, I. . ."
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