Читать книгу Meet Mr. Prince / Once a Cowboy...: Meet Mr. Prince - Patricia Thayer - Страница 12

Zach hadn’t been gone from the office ten minutes when Deborah buzzed Georgie to say Jonathan Pierce was on the line. “And he’s not happy,” she warned.

Georgie grimaced. He’d be even less happy after they talked.

She pressed a button. “Georgie Fairchild.”

“There’s been some mistake, Miss Fairchild,” he ground out. “I asked to speak with Zach.”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Pierce. He’s gone for the day.” She waited a heartbeat before adding, “May I help you?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Look, I get it that you’re not happy I’m now in charge of the Carlyle Children’s Cancer Center application. You made that very clear earlier today, but—”

“Not happy? I consider it absolutely outrageous that I’ve been foisted off on some underling.”

If his voice got any frostier, it would rival the temperature of the Arctic. She decided not to make a point of the fact he’d interrupted her or that he was beyond rude. Keeping her own voice pleasant, she said, “Despite your reservations, I believe we can work together. Unless, of course, you’ve decided to withdraw your grant application?”

A long moment pregnant with tension passed before he spoke again. “How long are we supposed to wait before you make a final decision?” he said stiffly.

Georgie stifled the impulse to smile. She knew he wouldn’t be able to see a smile, but perhaps he would sense it. “I expect to have my recommendation ready by the end of the week.”

“I see.”

She knew he wouldn’t complain because he had probably thought she’d take much longer than that. “In fact,” she added, “I’ve finished going over all the paperwork given to us so far. Now all that’s left is last quarter’s financial report, which Ms. Love has promised will be in my hands no later than Wednesday.”

“You’ll call me immediately upon making your decision.”

Now Georgie did smile. “Absolutely. You’ll be the first to know.”

Pierce said a terse goodbye without thanking her. But Georgie hadn’t expected thanks. It was enough that he had been made to realize that he wasn’t calling the shots.

She was, whether he liked it or not.

It normally gave Georgie no pleasure to brandish her power over applicants, but in the case of Jonathan Pierce, that rule didn’t hold true. It gave her a great deal of pleasure to knock that supercilious man down a peg or two. If he hadn’t been such a pain in the butt, she would have told him that unless the cancer center’s last quarterly financial report showed some discrepancy, their application was all but approved now. That she was making him wait (and sweat a bit, she hoped) was exactly what he deserved for his immature behavior.

She wished Zach were still here, so she could tell him about the conversation. Instead, she sent him an email saying she’d like to meet with him in the morning. She added the teaser, to tell you about my conversation with Jonathan Pierce. She smiled, thinking how much Zach would enjoy hearing about the exchange.

Less than thirty minutes later, her email program alerted her to new mail from Zachary Prince.

If you don’t have plans for the evening, he wrote, maybe you’d like to come for dinner. Fanny made stuffed pork chops. We can talk about Pierce then.

Georgie was so surprised, she had to read the message twice to make sure she hadn’t made it up. She immediately wrote back. I don’t have any plans. What time shall I come?

A minute later he answered, saying, Great. Let’s say six-thirty. See you then.

Georgie didn’t know what had prompted the invitation, but she’d have been lying if she said she wasn’t looking forward to the evening. Now that she had changed her opinion of Zach, she could actually admit she enjoyed his company. And, if she was being completely honest (oh, Joanna would laugh at her!), she did enjoy looking at him.

“Well, you look awfully pleased with yourself,” Deborah said from the open doorway.

Georgie jumped.

Deborah laughed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. So what did the great man say?”

For a moment, Georgie thought Deborah was referring to Zach, and she couldn’t think what to answer. But then she realized Deborah meant Jonathan Pierce when she’d said “great man.” “He tried to intimidate me by saying he didn’t want to work with me … again. I guess he thought if he said it enough times—especially with Zach not there to protect me—I’d cower or something.”

Deborah grinned. “I’ve only known you a few days, and I already know you’re not the sort of person to cower … for anyone.” She shook her head. “Wonder how men like Jonathan Pierce get to be that way? Think they have domineering fathers? Who maybe treated their mothers like serfs? Or maybe treated them like serfs?”

Georgie shrugged. “Beats me. I’m no psychologist.”

“Well, I’m glad you showed the good doc he can’t push you around, with or without Zach.” Deborah glanced at her watch. “It’s almost quitting time.” Looking up, she smiled. “Hey, if you don’t have plans for the evening, want to come and have dinner with me and my son? Jack’s in Cleveland on business, and it’s just me and Kevin tonight. Nothing fancy, though. We’re having spaghetti and meatballs.”

“Oh, thanks, Deborah, I would’ve loved to, but I do have plans. In fact, I’m going over to Zach’s for dinner. He just now invited me. I guess he’s anxious for a play-by-play of my phone conversation with the great Dr. Pierce.”

“Oh, that’ll be fun. You’ll get to meet his kids.”

Had Deborah given her an odd look? “I’ve already met Katie. We stopped by the apartment on the way back from our meeting at Carlyle so Zach could pick up some files he’d forgotten.”

“How is she? Is she feeling better?”

“She told Zach she was.” Yes, that was definitely an odd look. Speculative. Or was she being paranoid again?

Deborah sighed. “I feel so bad for those kids. Katie especially. She’s taken the death of her mother really hard. When Jenny died, the other two were really too young to be affected. Well, Jeremy probably remembers her a little—he was three when Jenny first got sick and four when she died. But Emma was just a baby.”

“It’s sad they lost their mother so young.”

“It’s heartbreaking, actually.” She turned as if to leave, then said, “It’s been really tough on Zach.”

“I can imagine,” Georgie said. “Raising three young children on his own. That’s a lot of responsibility. Plus … losing his wife. She must have been very young.”

“She’d just turned thirty-four.”

Thirty-four. Georgie swallowed, imagining only having four more years to live.

“It was awful,” Deborah continued. “Such a sad time for everyone. Jenny’s mother was devastated. Jenny’s father had died a few years earlier, and Jenny was an only child. Zach has done a wonderful job on his own, though. I really admire him. He’s got his priorities straight. Unlike a lot of men, he always puts his kids first.”

Had Deborah added that last bit for Georgie’s benefit? Oh, surely not. Georgie was imagining things.

“I admire that, too,” she said. Georgie couldn’t help but think of her uncle Harry, who hadn’t put his kids first and had paid dearly for that neglect. But at least he’d wised up eventually and made things right with his sons.

“I do hope Zach will meet someone one of these days, though,” Deborah said thoughtfully. “He’s far too young to be alone. Besides, those children really need a mother.”

Those children really need a mother.

The words seemed to echo in the room after Deborah left.

As Georgie cleaned up her desk and got ready to leave herself, she kept thinking about them.

Those children really need a mother.

Georgie knew, if she had any sense at all, she’d steer a wide path around Zach. He was far too attractive, and the more she learned about him, the more she liked him. I shouldn’t be going to his apartment for dinner. I should have said no.

Yet, what was the harm? It wasn’t a date or anything close. It was just dinner, and his kids would be there.

True, but just yesterday, she’d decided she was going to keep her distance from him. Of course, yesterday she’d thought he was married, and today she knew he wasn’t.

Did that make any difference, though? He might not be married, but as Deborah had pointed out, he had three young children who needed a mother—the kind of life that was eons removed from Georgie’s.

And if Georgie had learned anything in her thirty years, she’d learned that it was dangerous to play with fire. And her undeniable attraction to Zach was definitely fire. Plus, aside from all else, he’s your boss. She grimaced, imagining what Joanna would say. Georgie had certainly cautioned her about getting mixed up with her boss.

If I had any brains at all, I’d run for the nearest airport and hightail it on home.

But since she couldn’t do that, and since she couldn’t call Zach up and say she couldn’t make it tonight after all without looking like an idiot, she would make sure that from now on she would stick to her original decision. She would steer a wide path around him. She would be friendly and helpful at the office, and she would firmly stay away from him at all other times.

No matter how much she might be tempted otherwise.

When Cornelia arrived home from the club, she smelled the flowers before she saw them: an enormous bouquet of hyacinths mixed with tiny white roses. She didn’t have to look at the accompanying card to know they’d been sent by Harry.

Darling Cornelia,

I know how much you love hyacinths. Every time you look at them, I hope you’ll think of me. All my love, Harry

Yesterday he’d sent her a nosegay of violets, the day before a huge spray of baby orchids, all with approximately the same message. All three selections were out of season and had probably cost the earth. And if she hadn’t been dealt a body blow today in the form of Greg’s news, courtesy of Harry Hunt, she’d probably be thrilled about the flowers. But she was still reeling a bit by the knowledge that Harry wouldn’t think twice about playing dirty, even when it came to her.

And why should he? Ruthless tactics had stood him well in business. Winning was all that counted. Take what you want by any means, fair or foul. That was Harry’s truth. It was the way he operated. Hadn’t he shown her just how merciless he could be when he’d threatened to disinherit his sons unless they married and gave him the grandchildren he coveted? He’d been deadly serious, too.

She was still thinking about him and trying to decide how she would deal with what he’d done about Greg when her cell phone rang. She wasn’t even surprised to see Harry’s name on the display.

“Hello, Harry,” she said.

“Hello, my dear. How are you this afternoon?”

“Just fine, thank you.”

“Did you have a nice lunch with Kit?”

“How did you know I was having lunch with Kit today?”

“I have my ways.”

She heard the smile in his voice, and it hardened her resolve. “Oh, yes, I know you do.” I know all about you, Harry. You’re not fooling me for a second. “And yes, it was a very nice lunch.”

“I’m glad. You deserve everything nice. And what about the flowers? Did they arrive?”

“They did, and they’re lovely. Thank you. But you really shouldn’t send flowers every day. It’s terribly wasteful.”

“It’s not the least bit wasteful. Not when they’re for you. You’re very important to me.”

“Really,” she said.

He laughed. “Oh, Corny, I can see I have a lot of work to do to get rid of that skepticism I hear in your voice.”

“You must admit, I do have reason to doubt you. Two blonde reasons, one brunette and one redhead, to be exact.” The redhead had particularly upset Cornelia, maybe because by that time she was thoroughly disgusted with Harry’s choices. And hurt. Don’t forget hurt.

“Touché. But it’s time for you to forget about the follies of my youth. I’m a grownup now, and I finally know what I want.” His voice lowered. “And what I want is you.”

A frisson of pleasure rippled through her, even as she reminded herself that Harry had more to answer for than the follies of his youth and that she shouldn’t forget it.

“I have a great idea,” he said.

“Oh?”

“How would you like to go away for the weekend?”

“Go away?”

“Yes, you know … the two of us … somewhere romantic. Doesn’t that sound good?”

“Well,” she hedged.

“We could go to Paris …”

Paris. Her favorite city in the entire world. She almost said, If I do eventually agree to marry you, I’d rather save Paris for our honeymoon. But something held her back.

“What do you say, Corny? The Eiffel Tower all lit up at night. Montmartre. Maxim’s. We could even be naughty and go to the Folies Bergère, if you so desire. And if you don’t want to go to Paris, we could go somewhere closer to home. Montreal or Quebec City. What strikes your fancy?”

They all sounded wonderful. But then, when you were as rich as Harry, everything sounded wonderful.

“Let me think about it,” she finally said. She refused to allow him to rush her into anything.

“What is there to think about? Which city you prefer? Or whether you’re going to go at all?”

“Whether I’m going to go at all.”

He sighed heavily, the sound clearly audible over the phone. “All right, Corny. Have it your way. When do you think you might have an answer for me?”

“Why do you need to know? Are you planning to ask someone else if I say no?”

He laughed. “It would serve you right if I did. But no, I’ve learned my lesson. It’s you I want. You and you alone.”

She almost said yes right then, but she bit her tongue to keep from saying it. He could just wait a few days. It wasn’t as if he had to make plane reservations or anything. Harry’s private jet was always ready and available to him, even on an hour’s notice. And a few days would give her time to plan just what she was going to say to him about his role in the matter of Greg and his new job.

After telling her he would check in with her the following day, they said goodbye. Cornelia stood there afterward holding the phone and thinking. Was she being silly? Should she just forget all this courtship business and the way he had summarily gotten rid of Greg and tell Harry yes, she’d marry him? Neither she nor Harry were spring chickens. Who knew how many years they had left? Why was she wasting even one minute of them when they could be together?

You love him, faults and all. You know you do.

Yes, she did.

Then there’s no reason not to say yes.

But there was a reason. Harry had broken her heart once. How could she be sure he wouldn’t break it again?

Now why had he done that? Zach’d had no intention of inviting Georgie to dinner, yet he’d given in to the impulse. And he had to admit that he was looking forward to having her there. Truth was, he liked her. He hadn’t thought he was going to, but she’d quickly proven herself to be not only hardworking, with good judgment, but she was smart … and he could relate to her. It also didn’t hurt that she was easy on the eyes.

It was kind of a shock that he had noticed. And, if he was being honest, that he’d responded to her. Until now, he’d been attracted to women who were more like Jenny: small, dark, girl-next-door types. No doubt about it. Georgie Fairchild was at the opposite end of the spectrum: tall, blonde and … sexy. Very sexy, because the sexiness wasn’t flagrant. But it was there. It certainly was there.

Still thinking about her, he walked into the kitchen to tell Fanny he was having a guest for dinner. He wondered what Fanny thought. She didn’t reveal anything of her inner thoughts when he told her, simply smiled and said, “I’ll use the good china, then.” After a moment, she added, “Will you still be joining the children for their dinner?”

“Until Miss Fairchild arrives.” Zach usually ate his dinner early, with the children, but tonight they would be fed first so he could enjoy a more relaxed evening with Georgie.

After he’d freshened up with a shower and changed into jeans, well-worn loafers and his favorite blue sweater—a shade Jenny had always teased him about, saying it matched his eyes—he went back to the family room to check on Katie and Jeremy. He found Katie there alone.

“Where’s your brother?” he asked, looking around.

She shrugged. “He got bored. I think he’s in his room.”

“What’re you doing, honey?” The television was dark, and Katie just seemed to be sitting there.

She shrugged again. “Nothing.”

He gave her a quizzical smile. “Nothing? Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know? Is your throat hurting again?”

She shook her head. “No. It doesn’t hurt.”

“Well, then …”

For a long moment, Katie stared down at her hands, which were folded in her lap. When she looked up, her eyes met his almost defiantly. “Fanny said that woman is coming for dinner.”

“By ‘that woman,’ do you mean Miss Fairchild?”

“Yes. Her.”

Zach suppressed a sigh. Before Jenny died, he could count on one hand the number of times he’d sighed. Now that’s all he seemed to do.

“I don’t like her.”

“Katie, you don’t even know Miss Fairchild. How can you not like her?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I just don’t.”

“But why not, honey? You must have a reason.”

Katie didn’t answer, just kept looking down and avoiding his eyes.

“Katie?”

Finally she looked up. Zach was alarmed to see tears. “Katie,” he said gently. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“Are you gonna marry her?”

Zach’s mouth dropped open. “Marry who? Miss Fairchild?”

She nodded miserably.

“Of course I’m not going to marry her. She’s just a friend. Someone who is working for me.” And yet, even as he said this, he knew it wasn’t the whole truth. He and Georgie weren’t really friends. They hadn’t known each other long enough to be friends. And he was attracted to her. Too much so, in fact. Maybe Katie had sensed that.

“I don’t want you to marry somebody else.” Now the tears had spilled down her face. “I want Mommy.”

“Oh, sweetheart …” Zach knelt by the bed. He felt like crying himself. “I know you do. I—I do, too.”

“Why’d she have to die?” Katie sobbed.

At times like this, Zach felt so helpless. He knew the pat answers to these questions, but he also knew how unsatisfying they were. “I don’t know, sweetheart,” he said honestly, putting his arms around her. “Sometimes things happen that have no explanation.”

“It’s not fair.”

“I know it’s not fair.”

“I miss her.”

“Me, too,” he whispered.

After a few minutes, Katie seemed to gather herself together, and her tears stopped. “You know, honey,” he said, reaching for a tissue so she could wipe her eyes, “Mommy’s always with us. I know you can’t see her, but she’s here. She’s probably watching us right now, and maybe, if you close your eyes, you can feel her giving you a hug.”

Katie’s eyes met his, and he could see she wasn’t buying it. She didn’t want her mother’s spirit. She wanted a real, live mother. And not just any mother. Her mother. Zach sighed again. What could he say to his sweet child to make her feel better? That he would never marry anyone else? Never bring another woman into their lives? How could he promise that? He was only thirty-seven years old. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life as a widower. And he knew Jenny wouldn’t have wanted him to, either. In fact, one of the last things she’d said to him before she died was that she hoped he’d meet someone someday.

Finally, not knowing what else to say to his daughter, he whispered, “I love you, Katie. That will never change. You know that, don’t you?”

She nodded.

Zach hugged her again, then in a brighter voice said, “Fanny’s got macaroni and cheese and tomato soup for you and Jeremy. Do you feel like eating tonight?”

“Uh huh.”

“Okay, let’s go then. I’ll sit with you until Miss Fairchild gets here, okay?”

“Okay.”

It hurt Zach to hear the resignation in her voice. Poor kid. She’d barely had time to be a kid before Jenny got sick. Then there’d been the year of treatment, the chemo, the hair loss, the weight loss—all taking place in front of Katie’s eyes. She’d had to grow up too soon, experience things no kid should have to experience.

In that moment, Zach knew he could not add to the burden Katie carried. No, he couldn’t promise his daughter he’d never marry again, because he hoped someday he would. But he could promise himself that he would never do anything to make Katie feel she came second in his life. And if that meant he would have to be alone for longer than he’d like to be, well, that was the way it was. Unless and until he met a woman his children could wholeheartedly love and accept, he’d just have to accept his own burden of loneliness.

Because his kids came first.

And always would.