Chapter 3 HOW YOU HOLDING UP 2

"I think he felt guilty for pushing me into it."

"He just wanted what was best for you."

"I know, and that's why I followed his wishes and went to law school. It wasn't because he pushed me into it. I knew it was a way to provide for myself and my daughter. After all, a good lawyer can always make a living, right?"

"That's been my experience," Stuart said. "Especially when the name Shelby is attached. ... So no more children, huh? But what about a wife? Why haven't you settled down? A man of your age should be ready to settle down."

"You are a nosy ole coot Stuart."

"I am. But as your godfather – and your attorney – I would be derelict in my duties if I wasn't," the old man smiled.

"I was wondering when you were going to pull the godfather card."

"Well now it's pulled. So when are you going to get married? Now that Jeb and your mother are gone -" Stuart said, letting the sentiment trail off. He missed his friend; they'd been more than business associates. They'd been a part of each other's lives since they were in college. Jeb, Carrington's father, had been friends with him and his wife, Rita, for over five decades. As young couples, before Carrington's mother's death, the four of them had been best friends.

"I know," Carrington said, as the acceptance of loss settled in. He knew Stuart almost as well as he knew his own father. Other than he and Alexandria , he was sure no one felt his father's loss as deeply.

"I never felt the need to get married," Carrington said in answer to Stuart's question. "Besides, my lifestyle is not exactly conducive to it, especially now that father's passing has added more to my plate. I'm never in one place for long, and I quite enjoy that. Most women want to nest – get married, have children. I'll just have to leave that to fine men like you," he smiled as he patted the old man on the back. This had been an ongoing conversation over the last few years between him and his father. And now, apparently, between him and his godfather.

"Hmmm ... I see your dilemma,' Stuart pondered as he rubbed his whiskery chin. "You are at the age where the women you spend time with are ticking time bombs of impending motherhood. But the world can be a very lonely place Carrington, and there's nothing like the love of a good woman to come home to. To be honest, I don't remember what it's like not to be married. I married Rita when I was barely out of my teens, right around the time Jeb married your mother. He grieved her til the day he died."

"Father never hid the fact that she was the only woman for him. I remember a woman or two here and there, but really, he married his work after mother's death from what I remember."

"You remember correctly. And the few women you remember were probably very nice ladies that my wife introduced him to. But he never took to one because he never got over Margy, and for a good reason. She was quite the woman. Irreplaceable – like my Rita. Marrying her was the smartest thing I ever did. That could be another reason you don't want to have another child – you haven't met the right woman yet. What about the one you brought to Thanksgiving? She's a looker. Classy, and it was obvious to anybody with eyes that she was two sheets to the wind smitten with you."

"I'm afraid we decided to part ways," Carrington grimaced, thinking that 'we decided' was a polite way of putting it.

"Already?" Stuart asked.

"Yes," Carrington said, refusing to expound.

"You're as stubborn as a mule; just like your father."

"Having a child at eighteen gets you crystal clear about what you want in life. After Alexandria , I knew I didn't want more children. If you do parenthood right, it's a hard job. Knock wood – thanks to father – I think I made a pretty good stab at it. I have no desire to start from ground zero. I may not be as lucky next time," he joked.

"Then you best start dating older women, because the ones in your age bracket want Young's – and usually more than one."

"So I've been told – by more than one," Carrington kept chuckling. "And that's why I'm perfectly fine remaining single. Maybe I'll wait until I'm your age to settle down. Then there'll be no chance of this being a problem."

"That's either the smartest thing you've said today, or the dumbest. I'll decide on my way home," Stuart said.

Carrington couldn't help but smile to himself. He'd always been close with Stuart, never realizing how much he valued that until this very moment. Stuart understood him as his father did. They had the same sense of humor. They ribbed him the same way. It's no wonder they were best friends, and why his father had chosen Stuart to be his godfather.

Now that his father was gone, the steadying presence of Stuart gave him more comfort than his pain let him realize.

AFTER STUART LEFT, Carrington sat in his father's chair in his office in the law firm he founded fifty-four years ago. He missed his ole man. Their talks about business. Their long walks in Central Park. Playing chess. Conversations about books they read. The polarizing politics of the day. Stuart was right about one thing – the world could be a lonely place.

He'd given some thought to settling down with Catherine, his last lover. She was beautiful, smart, sophisticated, and they were highly compatible sexually. But he knew she wanted children. Even though she'd said that she could give up that dream, he knew that wasn't something a person could – or should – give up. It would always be between them and one day she'd resent him for it. He knew it. So he'd broken things off, even though he enjoyed her company – particularly in the bedroom – immensely. She was a hard one to let go and he knew it would be a while before he found another who satisfied him on so many levels.

Carrington readjusted his manhood. Just thinking about her made him aware of how much he liked having a woman in his bed. But he didn't want just any woman. He could easily pay for that kind of companionship, but that had never been an option he exercised.

He wanted someone he liked out of the bedroom just as he did in the bedroom. Someone he could eat hot dogs with as they walked the streets of New York and accompany him to a charity ball at The Met – and be equally at ease. Those kinds of women were rare. He knew he'd done his share of looking. He sighed in frustration.YOU'RE A SELFISH BASTARD Carrington," Catherine leveled at him. "What you want are the trappings of a relationship without the responsibility of one. You don't want to get married and you don't want more children. But you want me at your disposal when you fly into town, and for me to magically disappear and not expect even so much as a regular phone call when you're away. Why don't you just hire an escort or pay some street whore? At least those are arrangements a woman can understand. But this ... the way you act, no woman with an ounce of self-respect is going to stand for it!" she said, slamming the door on the way out of his luxury hotel suite.

CARRINGTON CRINGED at their last encounter. Catherine had been right, he begrudgingly admitted. He did want a woman who was both marriage and motherhood material, but he didn't want to be the one to put a ring on her finger or a baby in her belly.

Maybe Catherine was right. Maybe he was a selfish bastard. Next time, he'd be sure to be very clear about his wants – and demand that she does the same.

Whomever 'she' was.