The Bachelor's Cinderella

“What task in particular is he working on?”

“He’s…I believe he’s working on the payroll statements.”

“All right. Good. Ask him when you can expect them on your desk. Say it calmly but firmly,” Etienne instructed.

“Is there a reason you need to know? He’s right there.”

“And you’re right here, too.” Etienne said. “A woman who wants to establish her place in the business world and wants to know how to do it.”

She looked at him for several seconds, then took a visible deep breath and turned with a curt nod despite the concern in her expression. The other man was almost ready to leave the water cooler. “Jeff, excuse me, but could you tell me how far along you are on those payroll statements? I’d like them on my desk sometime today. It’s not something I can wait on.”

The uncertain woman had been replaced by a cool, confident one. The man did a double take. He looked at Etienne with a question in his eyes, but Etienne ignored him, so the man turned back to Meg.

“Today?”

For a moment Etienne saw Meg hesitate. She didn’t want to push the issue.

“I know you can do it,” she said softly. “I have faith in your abilities, Jeff.”

The man gave her a shaky and grateful smile. “Thank you. And getting them to you today won’t be a problem, Meg…I mean, Ms. Leighton,” he said.

Her answering smile was glorious and if the man had looked as if he’d been hit with a rock before, now he took on the expression of a man who had been hit by Cupid himself. “Thank you so much, Jeff. Your expertise and promptness is making things run so much more smoothly.”

“In an hour, Ms. Leighton,” Jeff said. “You’ll have them in an hour.” He smiled at her again as he moved away.

Etienne waited for him to be gone. Then he turned to Meg.

“Well, ma chère, what do you need me for? You’re a complete natural,” he said. “I only meant for you to start making the switch from being his colleague to being his employer, but you moved him directly from employee to willing slave status.”

“He was only being truthful about the bright blue,” she said, wrinkling her nose at the vivid color.

“Maybe so, but he has to depend on you now. You outrank him and he needs to know that when he has a problem, you can help. If you don’t maintain that employer-employee status, your friends and colleagues will have no one to direct them when I’m gone,” he said.

Meg looked at him with those big, bright solemn eyes. Etienne worried that she, who had faced far too much criticism over the years, might be hurt by his comments, but she nodded. “I’ll work on that, but I’ll probably stumble now and then.”

“You have an affinity for the job. You’ll do fine.”

“You’re a good instructor,” she said. “But we still have a problem.” She looked toward the room.

“Ah, the color. Let’s go with the dark blue with ivory trim. When it comes in…we paint.”

“Us?” she asked with a smile.

“All of us,” he said, indicating the room.

“Oh,” she said, and he wondered if she was going to tell him that painting was beneath her dignity or that it wasn’t what she’d had in mind when she’d told him she wanted to be a successful businesswoman.

Suddenly Meg grinned and wrinkled her nose in such a cute way that Etienne’s heart flipped around a bit. “Don’t look at me that way. I happen to love painting,” she said. “The chance to slap stuff on a pristine wall with no repercussions? What’s not to love?”

And for some reason, Etienne believed her. There was just something irresistible about watching Meg when she was enthused about something.

The painting had gone faster than she had anticipated, Meg thought several days later when most of the employees had gone home and she and Etienne were the only ones left.

“Everything looks good, doesn’t it?” she asked, staring around the room. The paint had made such a difference.

“It does. It looks amazing,” Etienne agreed and she looked up to see him looking at her.

She suddenly felt self-conscious in her baggy jeans and white T-shirt with a tear at the shoulder. She had lots of paint on her, especially on the part of her shirt right over her left breast, where she had accidentally brushed against the wall. She was a mess, but Etienne…That man could do wonderful things to a black T-shirt and a pair of white painter’s pants. Today was the first day she had seen him wearing something other than a white shirt and tie. He was mouthwatering in business attire but the T-shirt revealed tanned muscled biceps that made her want to stare.

She forced herself to look away. “I’m glad we did the painting ourselves,” she said, trying to change the subject quickly so that he wouldn’t notice her staring. “It was fun. I love having the chance to relax and just get messy.”

“I love watching you get messy,” he said suddenly, affection deepening his voice.

Her breath caught in her throat. “I…”

“You’re shocked that I said that about you. Frankly, so am I,” he said, his voice washing over her. She couldn’t turn around. She was too afraid that the naked desire in her eyes would be visible.

“You’re right about the satisfaction involved in doing this ourselves,” he said. “I could have paid to have someone paint, but it’s a task everyone here could take part in. And when I’m gone, I want to leave you in charge, but as I’ve mentioned, I want the employees to own the company. When people own something, they fight for it. Painting the office was a start to staking their claim. By their own hands they’ve improved it.”

Then Meg couldn’t stay turned away from him anymore. “You are going to be missed.”

“I’m still here for a number of weeks,” he said. “And we’re not even close to done yet. Even today…”

“A new lesson for me?” she asked.

“Not quite.” He reached out and lifted a long strand of her hair. “You have golden lights in your hair,” he said. No one had ever said anything like that to her, especially not with that appreciative tone of voice. Meg swallowed hard. “You also have paint in your hair. I’m taking you to a stylist.”

“You’re going to cut my hair?” She almost whispered the words. Why did the thought alarm her? She had no reason to be vain about her hair. It was just plain brown hair.

“I wouldn’t think of it, unless, of course, that was what you wanted. It’s your hair and a very personal part of you, Meg. I’m just suggesting that we shape it and cut out the paint. Would that be all right?”

He was asking her to trust him, though he hadn’t said the words. She wanted to say yes. Unlike painting, styling her hair was one of those things she wasn’t good at. Her father had disliked any reminders that he had produced a second, unwanted daughter and watching Meg fuss with her hair had always made him snarl. So she hadn’t developed the skill. As for trusting Etienne, hadn’t trusting people been what got her into so much trouble over the years? She wanted Etienne’s help but she also needed to retain some pieces of herself.

“I’d like to talk to the stylist myself,” she ventured.

He nodded. “Of course. Do you have a favorite one?”

“I don’t have one at all.”

“All right. I can take care of that.”

In no time at all, they were in a shop where the chairs were more luxurious than her furniture at home. The stylist, Daniel, asked her what she had in mind.

Panic ensued, and Meg sighed. She turned to Etienne. “I have no clue, but…” she maintained. “At least I got to say that much.”

Etienne chuckled. “You did. You took charge, and if at any time during this procedure you’re alarmed at how it’s going we can stop.”

“No,” Daniel said. “I’m an artist. I don’t do things halfway.”

“I respect that,” Etienne said. “But Meg is a person, and I don’t want her to have any regrets.”

“She won’t.”

Etienne gave Meg a look. She knew that she had to be wearing that total panic mode expression.

“Long,” Etienne said in a tone that brooked no argument. “Just clean it up, shape it. Take as little off the length as possible.”

And just like that, knowing that Etienne wasn’t going to let her turn into a disaster zone, Meg relaxed. “About two inches shorter than what it is, I think,” she said. “Shoulder length.”

“Good,” Daniel said. “You’d look good with some layers framing your face. Just a bit for softness. And bangs. Not everyone can carry off bangs, even though most people think they can. You can.”

“Daniel thinks I can wear bangs,” she said to Etienne. “What do you think about that?” All these compliments might have gone to her head if she wasn’t so thoroughly grounded in reality.

“I think Daniel is an artist,” Etienne said with a smile. “You know how you feel about painting? Well, I’d say that Daniel feels that way about hair.”

She looked up at the tall, bony man who was waiting a bit impatiently. “Sorry for all the discussion and nail biting. It’s a life changing issue. But…okay. You’re the artist. Give me bangs.”

He did, and they were full and bouncy and Meg loved them. The soft tendrils that swept across her cheekbones made her feel feminine. When they left the shop she glanced in the window outside to see her dim and wavy reflection.

“It still looks as good as it did in the shop,” Etienne told her.

“Thank you,” she said.

“It was all Daniel,” Etienne told her.

But it hadn’t been. No one else had ever even seemed to care what her hair looked like. Of course, this was just all part of the deal she had struck with Etienne, but he could have simply given her a few tips on how to go on in the business world. Although she had used the word transformation, she hadn’t expected to feel so different and free and…aware of herself as a woman.

“Then thank you for taking me to Daniel,” she insisted. “You are a great person.”

But her comment didn’t elicit Etienne’s customary charming, dimpled smile. She missed it.

CHAPTER SIX

ETIENNE knew he had to be careful with Meg. She had been so joyful, even grateful after Daniel had turned her already pretty hair beautiful. And she was starting to think that Etienne was better than he was.

That would be disastrous. With his annual anniversary date drawing nearer, dread was starting to creep in now and then. He was far too aware of who and what he was. If Meg saw him as a good guy, and he ended up disappointing her…If her faith in him led to him harming her in any way…

It wasn’t going to happen.

For the next week he threw himself into work, trying to map out every angle, to figure out all the ways to make Fieldman’s come back to life. He and Meg oversaw the day-to-day operations, the cleanup of the building. He bought new computers, had the outside of the building sandblasted and had the new sign installed.

A photographer came and took photos of the interior, the exterior and of the three sample pieces of furniture Don Handry had managed to complete in record time.

Not trusting himself to spend too much time alone with Meg, Etienne drove himself, but the day came when there was no getting around what came next. He had a feeling Meg was going to…what was the term? Freak out just a little.

After everyone went home, he walked over to the open door of her office and peeked inside. She was bent over her desk, her soft, pretty hair swaying softly. As she worked, she ran those pretty long fingers over the keys of the keyboard gracefully, her eyes intent on the screen. She had no idea that he was there.

Etienne cleared his throat, and she jumped. One hand fluttered at her throat. She was wearing a plain white blouse and a navy skirt today. Very prim, except for the three red bracelets that clanked on her wrists and the red toes of her navy pumps. Meg certainly loved red. And red loved Meg, he couldn’t help noticing. It looked good against her pale skin. Which was as far as he was going to allow himself to take that train of thought.

“I’m sorry that I startled you, but I had something I needed to speak to you about,” he said.

“Of course,” she said, rising as he entered the room.

“I have to apologize to you,” he said.

“For what?”

“We have an appointment with some of the smaller local newspapers in—” he looked at his watch “—about forty-five minutes.”

Meg’s eyes widened. “Etienne, I’m—You know I’m not ready for this.” Her voice cracked and then it rose.

“You are. You know every plan we’ve made, every step we’ve taken. When I leave here, you’ll be the one in charge if you opt to stay. You’re the voice. You’re the face. You can do this, Meg. I’ll be with you,” he said. “Every step of the way.”

“I don’t know enough to do this.”

“You know you do. Already, you’re overseeing a lot of the operations.”

“But that’s different. People here are people I know. Some of them were here when I got here. They don’t mind when I trip with these new shoes and end up slamming into a desk. They just smile and go on. And when I laugh too loud or wear colors that clash, they don’t mind. It doesn’t matter. They don’t write it in a newspaper so everyone can read about it with their morning coffee.”

Etienne stepped closer. He took her hands in his own. “Meg, look at me.”

She did, and he was shocked to see that her eyes were glistening.

“You’re—Meg, you’re…Tears? I—Dammit, I didn’t tell you ahead of time because I didn’t want you to make yourself sick worrying. Now I’ve frightened you so much that you’re going to cry.” If ever a man wanted to kick himself, it was him right now, Etienne thought. “Meg…I’m…Forgive me, but…”

“No. I am not going to cry just because I’m a little scared,” she said, shaking her head vigorously. “It’s embarrassing and silly and unacceptable and juvenile and…I just won’t. I never do. Not for years.”

His heart split right there and then. She hadn’t cried for years and he was the jerk who had brought her to the verge. But he could see that she was going to be as good as her word. She was fighting her fear with every ounce of strength she possessed.

“Ah, Meg, I’m so sorry,” he said, pulling her to him, his arms going around her. “I thought that I could easily convince you of the truth, that you’ll be just fine. I won’t let you fall. I won’t sacrifice you.”

He wanted to look into her pretty brown eyes so that she could see that he meant every word. But Meg had hidden her face against his chest. She was probably embarrassed.

“Fine independent businesswoman I’m turning out to be. I ask for your help and then at the first hint of anything stressful, I’m running away and squawking. Etienne, I’m truly ashamed for carrying on this way,” she said, confirming his assumptions. “I should know better. It’s just…I’m not very good yet at being a public person with strangers. I haven’t learned enough yet.”

“You’re very good with me.”

“You’re different.”

“How?”

“You’re…you.”

He smiled as the muffled word echoed through his skin against his heart. He started to tighten his hold. She felt good against him, but suddenly she pulled back and looked directly up at him, straight into his eyes, her caramel eyes glistening, although no tears had fallen.

“I really am sorry for being such an idiot,” she said. “I…The only very bad explanation I can give is that…my parents had me when they were older. They had a grown daughter by then and they didn’t want another. In fact, they had been planning to divorce, but then I came along and they felt they had to stay married. My father might have been okay with me if I had been a son, my mother might have been okay if I had been pretty like Ann, but I wasn’t either of those things. I was…not what they had signed on for, and then, one of those rare days when my mother was happy, she swung me in a circle, playing, but I was too big and we fell. I cut my cheek. After that, she not only wished I was pretty like Ann, she wished she could wipe away the scar she felt she had caused. To her I was a reminder of the mistakes she and my father had made. After that, they more or less ignored me.

“I read a lot, camped out in front of the television and gained weight. My reticence, my awkwardness and my height made me stand out at school, and not in a good way, either. So, I kept to myself and I never learned how to interact with people the way most women do. Except for here where Mary protected me.”

“Meg, don’t criticize yourself,” Etienne said, stroking her hair.

She shook her head. “I didn’t tell you this so that you would feel sorry for me.”

“I don’t. You’re unique and I mean that in the best way.”

“It’s just…I’m sorry that I made such a fuss. It’s hard for me to be a public person. It’s what I want to be able to do. It’s why I asked you to help me, and all right, I’m past my little fit. I’ll be better in a few minutes.”

Etienne saw red. He absolutely shouldn’t have done this without telling her. What’s more, he should have known all this about her background. Many people, maybe even most suffered from stage fright, but Meg had been forced to apologize for her appearance and for her very existence to the two people who should have pledged themselves to nurture and love her. And here he had gone and made things difficult for her and she was actually trying to apologize to him!

He gazed down into her eyes, those earnest, lovely eyes. Her lips were parted and he just knew she was going to try to reassure him some more and tell him that she would be fine, that he was not to worry that he had ambushed her.

It was too much. Etienne gave a small tug and pulled her deeper into his arms. He took her mouth with his own and swallowed her soft gasp of surprise.

Her body molded to his and for several seconds she was still as he tasted her, breathed her in and worshipped her lips. She was soft and very sweet and…

Meg shifted against him. She looped her arms around his neck and tilted her head. Her lips slid beneath his own, and flame shot through him.

A small moan escaped her, driving him insane to have more of her. He deepened the kiss, took more of her. He plunged his hands into those soft curls to hold her still.

But she wouldn’t be still. Her body slid over his as she returned his kiss, and the heat climbed higher within him.

He wanted her. All of her. Right here. In this room. Right now. He wanted her for hours. For days. And to hell if anyone returned to the office who would wonder what was going on, who would remember how she had been taken advantage of by a man before…

Etienne groaned and stilled.

Meg froze.

“I’m sorry,” he said, as they disentangled themselves.

“Please don’t say that.”

“I have to.”

“No. Don’t apologize. If you have to be sorry, don’t tell me so.”

And Etienne realized just what she meant. She had almost moved away completely, but he gently tried to pull her back.

Meg resisted.

“If you think I meant that I was sorry for wanting you, then you’re very wrong.” Even though he was sorry for that. Wanting her complicated things when he wasn’t going to stay.

“It’s all right.”

“No. It isn’t. I’m not Alan, Meg.”

How did the Americans say it? Bingo. Her eyes came to rest on him, and he saw the truth.

“When you and I touch, there’s nothing pretend about it for me,” he told her. “I desire you, very much. If I’m sorry, it’s not because the kiss was a lie but because it wasn’t. You and I…touching or…doing more…I can’t stay, Meg. I won’t lie to you about that. That’s why I’m sorry. I shouldn’t start something I can’t follow through on.”

She smiled then. Actually smiled when his body was screaming with the need to pull her to him. And then a sad little look came on her face. “All that moving around you do…I…It’s none of my business, I have no right to even ask why, but…”

“Her name was Louisa,” he said. “I’d known her forever. She was shy but not with me. Our families knew each other and from the day Louisa and I were born, our parents joked about how Louisa and I would marry. Only when my father died, it wasn’t a joke anymore. I was the only remaining Gavard male, and my mother pinned all her hopes on me. I inherited the Gavard estate and all the responsibilities and commitments and history that that entailed. I was expected to do the right thing, marry the right woman, have the right child. So, I did all those things. Or I attempted to.

“I hated it, but it was my duty and my mother grew hysterical at the thought that I might fail the family name. So, I married Louisa and found out that she loved me. And also found out that I could break her heart because I was gone all the time on business. Fragile and afraid of my mother’s intimidating ways, she stayed alone or in the Paris penthouse, and she was bitterly unhappy when I was gone.”

Meg bit her lip. Her eyes were dark with concern. “Etienne, I shouldn’t have pried. You don’t have to tell me this.”

“Maybe I need for you to know. I came here to save Fieldman’s, but I don’t ever want you to think that I’m better than I am. Do you understand?”

Slowly she nodded. “You want me to think that you’re worse than you are.”

If the next part wasn’t so awful, he might have smiled. Instead he shook his head. “I used Louisa to achieve my goals. Marry a woman of good family? Check. I did that. Beget an heir?”

He paused. “She didn’t even want children at first, but she felt that if she had the Gavard heir, I would stay home. And I wanted her to have it. But even when she was pregnant, even once she had explained why she agreed to get pregnant, I didn’t slow down my business trips. I wasn’t even there when the stress of pregnancy and an undetected congenital heart defect precipitated a heart attack that took her life and the life of our son.” Anger at his inability to go back and change things, to take back all his mistakes, left him suddenly speechless.

Meg touched his hand. “How could you have known?” she said softly. “I know you would have prevented their deaths if there was any way you could have, Etienne.”

But he couldn’t respond. No matter the situation, no matter how much he wished he could reverse time and change the results of that day, he couldn’t. He had failed Louisa long before the day of her death. He had broken her heart. And when, after Louisa’s death, he’d told his mother that he was abdicating his place as the head of the family, dropping control of the family firm except for this small part he had started himself, and that he would not even consider ever starting another family, he’d broken her heart and failed her, too. Because after that, no matter how many times he apologized for his careless, thoughtless words, she felt responsible for pushing him into grief and she died feeling that way.

The truth was that he was hell on women. He disappointed and hurt them without trying. But, he promised himself, not this time. Please not this time.

He looked at Meg. She looked so sad, so chagrined. “I opened up old wounds by being nosy and speaking out of turn the way I always do. I—I’m so sorry I intruded.”

Etienne shook his head. “No. It needed to be out in the open so that you understand completely, Meg. I’ve had reason in my life to regret how I’ve handled my associations with women, but that’s not going to happen this time. I won’t give you false promises of any kind,” he told her, “but I won’t disappoint you by failing to help you, either. Beyond business I have no right to get involved with anyone and you have the right to know that. Because when I go, I’m going to miss you. But I’m still going to have to go. I never stay. I can’t.”

She didn’t blink, didn’t flinch. Finally she took a step closer rather than a step farther away. “Then, if the clock is ticking, I’d better start learning how to be a totally independent woman and head of this company quickly, hadn’t I? I’d better learn all the lessons you’re willing to help me with, Etienne. I don’t want you to have regrets. Instead I want to be a testament to your training, a worthy protégée. I’m going to do it. With your help, I’m going to go meet those newspaper people right now and be all that you intend for me to be.”