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Plain Jane's Prince Charming
“A château in Bordeaux inspired the estate.”
“The designer did his research.” She truly felt as if she were part of a fairy tale. She expected to see white horses gallop by. And a prince. She glanced at Chase. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thanks,” he said. “The first time I saw this place I had to have it. No matter what the cost.”
His world was a hundred and eighty degrees from hers. She couldn’t afford to rent an apartment by herself, buy a car or replace lost contact lenses. “Must be nice to be able to have whatever you want.”
His gaze met hers, and her heart skipped a beat. “It doesn’t suck.”
Jane smiled. “If I lived here, I would never leave.”
“You haven’t seen the inside of the house yet.”
“True,” she admitted. “But I’m sure it doesn’t suck.”
“It doesn’t.” His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “But I don’t live here.”
“Why not?”
“It’s too far from work,” he said. “Too much traffic to deal with.”
“You own a piece of paradise, and you’re worried about traffic?” The question slipped out. Of course, he couldn’t live here. It wouldn’t be practical. She could appreciate that, especially in someone who had everything. Still it bothered her.
“I don’t have patience when it comes to wasting time.” He studied her. “Don’t tell me you like being stuck in traffic?”
“Traffic means I can read longer.” And study and do more homework. “Doesn’t it seem a little sad to leave this place empty?”
“I have staff living on site.” He parked the car. “I spend an occasional weekend here. And my family uses it, too.”
But it didn’t seem enough to Jane. She slid out the front seat and went to Chase, who had removed his sport coat and left it in the car. No need for a jacket on the sunny September day.
He pointed to a large, boxy building perched below the main house. “I want you to see the barn where we’ll hold the event.”
Barn? She didn’t see any red paint or smell anything that suggested animals lived nearby.
As Jane followed him down a wide cobblestone path, the sun glimmered off Chase’s hair. She imagined curling the ends with her fingertips. Unfamiliar warmth flowed through her veins. She needed to stop thinking about touching the man.
“Welcome to the barn,” he said.
She forced her attention on the big rectangular building that resembled another château only this one was single-story. Chase pulled open one of the two sizable wooden doors.
She stepped inside. Her mouth gaped. Forget animals. No four-legged creatures would ever be allowed inside such an elegant space with hardwood floors and a vaulted, wood-beamed ceiling. “This isn’t a barn.”
“No, but that’s what I call it.”
“I’d call it perfect.”
He laughed. “The winery’s original owners designed the space as a reception and event site. Since wedding planners are so picky, they made sure everything was, in a word, perfect.”
Chase showed where bars or drink stations could be set up. He turned on the lights to show her the kitchen with professional grade stainless steel appliances.
Back in the main room, she took in every inch of the lovely space. This was so much bigger and so much nicer than she imagined. “I can’t believe anyone complained when they got married here.”
“I bought the estate before any weddings took place.”
“Let me guess,” she said. “You made them an offer they couldn’t refuse.”
“Let’s say I made them an offer they accepted on the spot.”
“Sounds more like a gobble than a nibble or bite.”
“Guilty.”
Charming and kind, but still a shark. She was going to have to be careful around him. “I knew it.”
Chase grinned. “Emma’s benefit will be the first event held here.”
She loved how he called it Emma’s benefit. And then she realized what he’d said. “The first event here? Ever?”
He nodded. “The curiosity factory should bring people in.”
The news sunk in. Okay, it actually smacked her brain and bounced off. “This is a great place for a party or dinner or a million other things. Why haven’t you used it?”
“I like my privacy,” he said. “My nieces and nephews run around in here when it’s raining.”
She tried to match the public Chase Ryder—the one who according to Ally appeared regularly in Sunday’s society page—to the man standing in front of her. Tried and failed. “Thank you for allowing Emma’s fundraiser to be the first event here. I’m…we’re honored you’d open your home, I mean, this place to us.”
“Would you like to see the rest of the estate?” he asked.
She toured the operations facility and received a glass of the winery’s award winning Pinot Noir to sip while they strolled the grounds.
He showed her a dirt lot where guests could park. “We can have valets and shuttle guests up the hill to the barn.”
As he pointed out where a tented waiting area could be installed, Jane tried to understand the logistics of it all. She hadn’t considered parking an issue. Why should she? She no longer owned a car.
With the wineglass in hand, she followed Chase through the artfully designed gardens surrounding the mansion. Lavender scented the air. Low clipped hedges divided beds of flowers and greenery. An arbor of roses anchored one end, a fountain surrounded with colorful flowers and rosebushes the other.
“Do you know what floral arrangements you want?” he asked.
She hadn’t thought that far. Not that she knew anything about flowers except the names of the most common ones. “No.”
“I have two florists I use regularly, but if you have your own florist, that’s fine.”
A florist of her own? Jane nearly choked on her wine. The last time she’d received flowers was when her father died. “Feel free to talk to your florists.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Getting Chase involved would take the benefit to a higher level. That’s what she needed to do to bring in the big donors. Whereas he knew exactly what needed to be done and how to do it, she knew nothing. She felt completely inadequate and totally insecure.
As he led her through the tastefully decorated Architectural Digest-worthy interior of the château, those feelings threatened to swamp her. By the time they reached the balcony and stared at the unobstructed view of Mount Hood, the emotions overwhelmed her. Jane couldn’t enjoy the scent of flowers—bougainvilleas if she wasn’t mistaken—from nearby flower pots. She fought the urge to down the remaining wine in her glass.
The estate and Chase were something out of dream, but not her dream. She knew better than to reach for the golden ring or buy a lottery ticket or wish for something that would never happen. The sinking feeling in her stomach matched the slump of her shoulders. She leaned against the railing.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
She didn’t know where to begin. Because Chase wouldn’t understand. He couldn’t understand.
“Jane?”
She bit her lip. Took a deep breath. Exhaled slowly. “I’m feeling a bit…a lot overwhelmed right now.”
“That’s normal.”
Nothing about this situation was normal. She fit in at Chase’s château winery as well as a barefoot, homeless orphan peddling matchsticks at Buckingham Palace. Okay, slight exaggeration. She wasn’t that bad off. Jane owned shoes, lived in an apartment and had a job. But that wasn’t the worst of it. She didn’t have a clue what to do when it came to the benefit. That had become clear today.
What was she going to do?
She and Chase lived in completely different galaxies. Light years away from each other. How on earth could she pull this off?
CHAPTER THREE
JANE couldn’t do this. She’d been kidding herself to think otherwise. If only she hadn’t told Michelle about organizing a fundraiser. And approached Chase.
He took the glass from her hand. “You’re trembling.”
Was she? Jane crossed her arms. It didn’t help.
“Come inside.” He held the two glasses in one hand, pressed his other against the small of her back and led her through a pair of French doors. “Have a seat on the couch.”
As she sank onto the overstuffed sofa, Chase placed the glasses on a wooden table.
This wasn’t the time to be concerned about water rings, but she couldn’t help reacting to his casual disregard for his beautiful furniture. “Shouldn’t you put coasters down first?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
He grabbed a blue throw from a chair and covered her legs. She touched the soft as a feather fabric, probably cashmere.
“Would you like a cup of coffee or glass of water?”
She didn’t want him waiting on her. She wanted to leave. She’d wasted too much of his time already. But she had no car, no idea where the closest bus stop might be and no cell phone to call Michelle for a ride home. Jane considered asking Chase to borrow one of his six cars until she realized that meant seeing him again to return the keys. “No, thank you.”
Jane stared at the painting over the fireplace. She recognized the picture, but couldn’t remember the artist or title.
He sat next to her on the couch, his thigh nearly touching hers. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“About what?” Stupid reply, but his nearness disturbed her as much as his question. One more reason to get out of here.
The upside-down V reappeared above the bridge of Chase’s nose. “What’s bothering you?”
How could she explain she’d gotten slapped with a harsh dose of reality while touring his estate? She’d wanted to do something she couldn’t possibly manage out of love for Michelle and Emma. Jane had been swept up in a fantasy only to realize it had all been a pipe dream, not the sort of thing she could pull off. And she’d long since stopped believing in pipe dreams.
He waited and watched. For a man who had no patience with traffic, he showed an amazing amount with her. He deserved an answer, some kind of explanation.
“Would it be horrible if I changed my mind?” she asked.
“About having the benefit here?”
“About having the benefit altogether.” The words tumbled from her mouth, and she felt horrible for having said them. Michelle and Emma were counting on her, but Jane was afraid.
“You can do anything you want.” He stared at her, his eyes betraying nothing. “But are you sure? You seemed so excited a little while ago.”
She didn’t, couldn’t answer. Not when a little while ago she’d been completely delusional about her abilities to organize the fundraiser.
“You feel that overwhelmed?”
His concern brought a lump to her throat. Jane nodded.
“If the thought overwhelms you so much, the work probably would, too.”
“I’ve never behaved like this before.” Regret washed over her. She expected him to be angry, not show compassion. She wanted to see his ruthless shark side. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel so bad. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” His encouraging smile made her feel worse. “I’ve found myself overwhelmed many a time.”
Chase Ryder? Overwhelmed? Maybe when he was a toddler standing on the edge of cliff alone. Jane held onto the blanket. “Are you always this understanding?”
“No, but I do have two sisters. Understanding is part of being a brother.” He picked up his wineglass. “I will admit having someone to share the workload on this would have been nice.”
“On what?”
“I’m putting on Emma’s benefit with or without you.”
Jane stared at him. “Why?”
“The medical bills still need to be paid and Emma needs more treatments, correct?”
“Yes, but—”
“She and her mother need help,” he said. “It shouldn’t matter who throws the benefit for them.”
Guilt clogged Jane’s throat. The fundraiser had been her idea. Her responsibility. Not his. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to do this.” He sipped his wine. “I’m thinking a black-tie event will bring in more money.”
She straightened. “A bit formal for a dessert, don’t you think?”
“Not just a dessert.”
His eyes held a hint of mystery, a secret she wanted to know. Jane waited, until she couldn’t wait any longer. “What?”
“A five-hundred-dollar-a-plate dinner with wine tasting.”
Her mouth gaped. She snapped it closed.
This was no longer her responsibility. This was no longer her problem. Forget about it. That was what she should do.
But she couldn’t.
“What about Emma?” Jane asked. “She wouldn’t be comfortable at a formal event. Michelle, either. They want to participate, not sit at home and wait for a check to be delivered. And what about their friends who want to support the benefit, but can’t afford that much.”
“Isn’t the goal to raise money?” Chase asked.
“Yes.” That was always the bottom line for people. Jane tightened her fingers around the throw. “But there are other ways of raising money besides having people dress up like a flock of penguins and feeding them fancy foods like foie gras.”
“You have something against foie gras?”
“It’s the liver of force-fed geese. Fat liver is the literal translation if I remember my high school French.”
He nodded once. Smiled.
The way he sat there looking gorgeous and knowing all the answers infuriated her. Turning this event into one of the fancy shindigs he normally attended was not in Emma’s best interest. “I wouldn’t feed that to an animal let alone pay for the opportunity to eat it.”
“A lot of people would.”
She wanted to wipe the smile off his face. “What about Emma? The benefit is for her. How does she fit into all this?”
“She can make an appearance at a convenient time or we can hang pictures of her on the walls.”
His ideas incensed Jane. “Why not hang posters of Emma looking pale, tired and sick so people will pity her and donate more money?”
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