The Bachelor's Cinderella

She stood before him, tall and elegant and full of confidence, and he had never been so proud of her. But he had also never been so sad to think about the future. Never getting to see her again when his time here was up was going to be…difficult.

But it would happen, nonetheless. He couldn’t even think about staying and taking the risk of seeing Meg hurt or growing to hate him.

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE room where the meeting was taking place was large with a conference table and cushy, big blue chairs. Ten of the twelve chairs were taken up by reporters, mostly female, all in black suits, and when Meg and Etienne walked in, Meg wanted to turn around and walk right back out again.

But she didn’t. She didn’t even look at Etienne even though she knew that if she did, he would be staring back at her, offering strength and encouragement. She wondered what he’d think if she told him that she was the girl who got poor grades on her oral presentations in school because she was so self-conscious that she stammered and forgot what she needed to say.

It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to tell him. And she was going to do this right. Because Etienne was carrying too much guilt on his shoulders. She didn’t want to be another weight, another woman he’d end up regretting. Besides, she might be the face of Fieldman’s, but he was the actual owner, the one taking the biggest risk, and she wasn’t going to fail him if she could help it. She prayed that she could come off looking reasonably competent. Or at least not incompetent.

Besides, hadn’t she wanted to forge a place for herself in the world, to be a woman to be reckoned with, to become so self-sufficient that she didn’t need to depend on a man for anything? Well, here was her chance. She needed to take it and she had to remember that wanting a man like Etienne would be self-destructive, a one-way ticket to doom and gloom and certain heartbreak. Anyone with any intelligence could see that.

Meg circled around to the open side of the table, facing the reporters. She tried to recall all the things she and Etienne had spoken about on the way over here, all his coaching, all the statistics and talking points she was supposed to spout, but the only thing she could really remember was his admonition to “be yourself. Just be Meg.”

Meg looked at the group gathered there. She opened her mouth, uncertain of what she intended to say. It was school report day all over again, but then she looked at Etienne. His silver-blue eyes held no hint of concern. He was smiling at her. He believed in her.

“I have the most wonderful job in the world,” Meg began, which was nothing like what she and Etienne had decided on. “Because I’ve been very lucky and because I’ve been blessed to be able to work with wonderful people.

“I got my start at Fieldman’s when I was sixteen. I left a year ago and then was rehired a few weeks ago by Mr. Gavard,” she said, nodding toward Etienne. “We’re…partners and with the help of the other employees of Fieldman’s we intend to not only reenergize the company, but to make it the kind of place people will compete to work for. It’s going to be a furniture friendly, consumer friendly, environmentally friendly and employee friendly company. We’ve already started. Let me show you.”

She pulled out her portfolio of the new product line and some of the ideas she and Etienne had drawn up to make Fieldman’s, small though it was, stand out from the crowd.

“Every drop of paint we use, every piece of technology we buy will be planet friendly. Our furniture is handmade out of materials that are certified chemical free for those people who have medical concerns.”

“Isn’t that expensive?”

“It is. That’s why we’re grateful that Mr. Gavard has taken over the company, although…he intends to eventually sell most of his shares to the employees.”

“Mr. Gavard,” one reporter said. “What do you say to all this?” The woman was eyeing Etienne as if he were a piece of man-size chocolate she wanted to bite into.

“This is not my show,” he said. “I refer all questions to Ms. Leighton.”

“Your…partner,” the woman said. Then she turned suddenly to Meg.

“Is he really just your partner?”

Meg blinked. How to react? How not to overreact? Instructions flew through her head. Reactions begged to be spoken. She ignored them.

Then she smiled. “Ms. Banner,” she said, reading the woman’s badge. “Look at me. I’m a…decent-looking woman. I have my attributes, I rather like this new hairdo I have, don’t you? But, I ask you…do I seriously look anything at all like the kind of woman Mr. Gavard would be entangled with? The man is absolutely gorgeous and he’s got those great dimples and…Well, of course I like looking at him, but most of you here would make much more likely dating material for Mr. Gavard should he be looking for a date.”

Every woman in the room turned to look at Etienne. Meg smiled and waved.

“He has dimples?” one woman asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Meg said. “And when he doesn’t believe something, he can do this great, sexy thing with his eyebrow. Show them the sexy eyebrow thing, Etienne.”

He crossed his arms. “I think this press conference was supposed to be about Fieldman’s, wasn’t it, partner?”

“Oh, now he’s going to get all professorial on us and give us a lecture. I probably won’t be able to even drag him out to another one of these if you write something about him and not the furniture,” Meg confided.

“Nice manipulative move, Ms. Leighton,” one reporter said.

“Yes, and we’ll bite,” another one answered. “Usually we’re just attending boring meetings. You bring Mr. Gavard back for us to drool over and we’ll be right there.”

“See if you can get him to take his shirt off next time,” one woman teased.

“You just make sure you write something nice about Fieldman’s and I might talk him into rolling up his shirtsleeves,” Meg promised.

The women laughed. Even the two men in the crowd looked amused. “You’re totally cute,” one said to Meg.

Meg’s mouth fell open. “Well…thank you,” she said.

“And I think your ideas for Fieldman’s and your products are going to stir up a lot of attention at the local trade shows.”

“Will you say that in your article?”

“Absolutely. It’s what I do.”

Meg smiled and nodded and fielded another question. When the meeting finally ended and the room had emptied, Etienne walked toward her. “That was the most unconventional press conference I’ve ever attended,” he said.

Meg played with the buttons on her suit. “You’ve attended a lot, haven’t you?”

“Thousands.” He moved forward two feet.

“And none like this? Hmm.”

“‘Hmm’ is right. I didn’t see any statistics.”

“I kind of forgot about those in the heat of the moment.”

He took another step closer.

“No schedules.”

“Forgot that, too.”

“And no mention of your impending trip to Paris and the international arm of the company.”

“I’m sure I’ll remember to talk about that next time.”

“And…what was that about my sexy dimples and how you were going to talk me into rolling my shirtsleeves up?”

“But I totally saved you from having to take your shirt off. I didn’t think you’d want to do that, even though it would’ve livened things up a bit.”

And he took the last step toward her, slid his hands up her arms, walked her back three steps to the wall and gently pinned her against the wall.

He kissed her. Totally. Thoroughly. Completely. A kiss that was wet, hot and made her knees forget their job of holding her up.

She slid.

He caught her.

And kissed her again.

“This was not a press conference,” he said. “This was major torture for me. I can’t take having you look at me like you want to climb into bed with me, especially if you’re doing it merely for the sake of theater. Now kiss me, Meg.”

She did.

He smiled and did that amazing Etienne dimple move. “You were marvelous,” he said. “Don’t do it again.”

“Don’t kiss you?” she asked, teasing him even though her heart was beating wildly, her blood was rushing around her body and her entire being was hot and crazy and on fire for one more kiss, one more touch.

“Don’t tease me while other people look on. Seriously. I can’t take it, Meg. I was in danger of walking over there and pulling you down on the table right in front of everyone. That just wouldn’t be right.”

“No,” she agreed. “Because then everyone would want some of that.”

“You make me crazy,” he told her.

“You make me crazier, but, Etienne?” Reality was returning. Her lips were burning. Reality was intruding and she was afraid. Really afraid. She hadn’t even hesitated or protested or thought while he was kissing her. This man could break her, so easily.

“I know,” he said, brushing her cheek with his thumb. “We can’t do this, and I have no right to blame you, Meg. You were just working the crowd. You really were spectacular. They liked you, all of them. Especially the men.”

He frowned.

“They were just being nice.”

“No. You have what it takes to win people over. You just didn’t know it before.”

Because she’d just never had someone like Etienne telling her things like this before.

“You’re going to be fine. You’re going to be great. You’re going to make it,” he told her.

And she knew that he was thinking about all the things that would happen after he was gone. He had said that there were no guarantees in life, but she could tell that there was one. One day Etienne would board a plane. And then it would be just her. Without him. Forever.

She had to stop wanting him. Right now. The wisest thing to do would be to keep her distance from him.

But that just wasn’t going to happen. At least not yet.

CHAPTER EIGHT

EVER since Meg had fallen into Etienne’s arms like a ripe plum, she had been reminding herself that while she might be enjoying herself now, the time would come when it would just be her and Lightning and the occasional foster cats from the shelter. If she was very lucky, she might find some way to have the baby she wanted, but even then, she would be a single adult. It would be a total mistake to start thinking that having Etienne around could continue for more than a few weeks.

If she did, she was going to die a thousand emotional deaths. And that just couldn’t happen. She needed to channel her fantasies into more productive avenues. No more waking up at three in the morning, dreaming of Etienne in her bed, his lips nuzzled against her neck.

Her dreams had gotten steadily more dangerous. Because of that, she did her best to foster normalcy at work, to plan for her future as a solo adult. So, she read the books Etienne gave her on management techniques. She signed up for some business classes for the fall at a local college. She watched her employees and concentrated on learning their work habits and tending to their needs not only as a friend but as a manager. And she tried not to notice Etienne, who seemed to be driving himself just as hard as she was.

He had been meeting with distributors, meeting with buyers, meeting with everyone but her, she couldn’t help noticing. Not that she blamed him. That press conference had been totally outrageous, and possibly embarrassing to Etienne, even if it had spawned a lot of other meetings and a couple of great articles about the company.

Besides, she knew why Etienne was driving himself so hard. There was another reason. When she had pried into his personal life that day, he hadn’t mentioned the date of his wife’s death, but Meg knew it just the same. There had been rumors in those online articles she’d read about him that last year Etienne had closed himself up in a hotel room and not come out for two weeks. The date was approaching fast. He was obviously trying to work hard, either to punish himself or to forget. Either avenue wasn’t healthy.

That just wasn’t acceptable. Somehow she needed to be a better friend and partner.

Meg put down the papers she had been looking at and wandered out to find Etienne. She found him with Andy, a computer specialist who moonlighted as a graphic artist. Both men looked up when she came near.

“Look at this, Meg,” Etienne said. “This is a mock-up of some ads I thought we might run locally. What do you think?”

She thought that no one other than Mary would have ever asked her that kind of question in the past, but both men looked at her as if expecting her to make an intelligent contribution to the conversation. Warmth swirled through Meg.

“I think the ad and the graphics project have exactly the kind of new look we want for Fieldman’s.” She hesitated.

“But…” Etienne coached.

Meg looked at Andy.

“Give it to me, boss,” he said. “Don’t hold back.”

“The font just seems a bit too…”

“I knew it,” Andy said. “It’s too cartoonish. I should have known.”

Automatically Meg placed her hand on his shoulder. “No, the whole thing looks great, very visually appealing, and I think in other instances we might use this particular font. Maybe down the line once we’ve started winning people over. For now, do you have something…I don’t know. Bold but still classic? Slightly edgier but not so much so that people will notice the font before the furniture?”

“Yes, that’s the problem, isn’t it?” he said. “I think…Yes, I’ve got just the thing. I’ll change this and get it back to you asap. And, Ms. Leighton?”

She blinked. She still wasn’t used to people calling her Ms. Leighton.

“Good eye,” the man said. “Mr. Gavard and I knew that something was off just a bit, but we hadn’t decided what.” And he went back to his work as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

For Meg, however, it was an amazing moment.

“I know it’s nothing,” she told Etienne, “but I didn’t really feel as if I was helping all that much until this moment. It felt as if I was playing at the job.”

“You’re joking, right? You’ve been running rings around all of us, Meg.”

“Not you.”

“Even me. You have a seemingly endless abundance of energy.” And then he smiled. There were those intriguing sexy dimples again. Her breathing kicked in. She concentrated on taking slow, deep breaths so that he wouldn’t see how he affected her.

“I just…when I’m worried, I tend to move faster, talk faster, do everything faster,” she admitted.

“We’re doing as much as we can. I don’t want you to make yourself sick,” he said.

“And I don’t want you to make yourself sick, either.” She raised her chin.

Etienne considered that. “I feel fine.”

“You’re driving yourself.”

“Bad habit,” he admitted.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Don’t you, Meg?” he asked, and his words sounded like a caress. “Why not?”

“Because.” She crossed her arms.

He grinned. “Good reason.”

“I’m working on the reason. No, I know what the reason is, but you might think it’s silly.”

“There’s nothing wrong with silly. Sometimes.”

She considered that. “It’s just…you’ve been in Chicago for weeks. Have you actually seen any of the city? That is, I know that you know a lot about it, but while you’ve been here you haven’t had time to do anything except take care of Fieldman’s and me.”

“Ah, you’re worrying. Don’t worry, Meg. I like taking care of you.”

Those words, that deep voice, the way he was looking at her…For a second, Meg wanted to purr like Lightning, to lean in to him. But this wasn’t about her giving in to her foolish desires.

“Well…” she said. “That’s…that’s nice, but now I think it’s time that I took care of you.”

He raised that brow.

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“You know. That thing you do with your eyebrow. You’re trying to distract me.”

He looked mildly amused. “I didn’t know it distracted you.”

She gave him a “you’ve got to be kidding” look, but she had made the comment about his eyebrow without thinking and now her thoughts were catching up to her words…as usual. It was probably better not to pursue this topic any further. She didn’t want to have to admit how susceptible to him she was.

“All this time you’ve been the one guiding me. I think…I want to be the one to do the guiding this time. Will you have some free time after work?”

“For…?”

“Sightseeing. Playtime. You actually taking a breather from work and getting out into the city for something other than baby-sitting all of us. Me, being the guide for a change.”

“You’re going to take me out, Meg?”

Okay, she was blushing. She knew she was. Why had she ever thought that she wasn’t a blusher? Or, more to the point, why did she only seem to react this way with Etienne? She didn’t want to know.

“Is there something wrong with a friend taking a friend out to see the town?” she asked, tilting her chin high.

He grinned. “Not a thing, and yes, I’d be delighted to have you as my tour guide.”

They smiled at each other. The phone rang and Meg started to leave. Behind her, Etienne picked up the phone.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible. When you sold the business to me, I made it clear that you were selling everything.”

Meg stopped in her tracks as Etienne’s voice broke the silence.

“You know that you have absolutely no claim to the Fieldman’s name,” he said. “And I’m not interested in allowing you to buy back in to the company in any way. Your association with the company and with everyone in it has ended. Don’t approach me or anyone here again. Don’t call.”

Meg’s heart started to pound. Hard. She turned back toward Etienne. Her eyes must look huge. She probably even looked a little scared, but she couldn’t help it. And she couldn’t help noticing that while Etienne’s voice had been as cool as ice, his jaw was tight and his hands were curled into fists.

“Has he called you before?” Her voice came out much too softly.

“Once. I barely managed not to ask him to meet me in a dark alley. After the way he treated you, it was what I wanted to do, and it would have made me feel a hell of a lot better to hit him. But getting into a physical altercation with Alan would only hurt you. He’s the kind who likes to bring very public lawsuits. But, Meg…”

She waited.

“He can’t hurt you. Or anyone here. I’ve made sure of that. I have an airtight contract. He has no legal recourse. Still, if he ever calls here or approaches you in any way, I want you to call me. I don’t think he’d be that stupid, but still…As much faith as I have in your abilities, I don’t want you to have to be the one to deal with him.”

Her heart stopped pounding. It melted. She barely managed a nod. “Thank you,” she said.

Etienne shook his head and gave her a crooked smile. “It’s just the way business goes,” he said, even though she knew that wasn’t true. “Now, weren’t we on the verge of going out to have fun?”

“I think I might have promised you something like that.”

That was how, just a few hours later, Meg found herself standing under The Bean in Millennium Park.

“It’s an odd nickname for something with a name as beautiful as Cloud Gate,” Etienne conceded of the highly reflective steel sculpture that did bear a striking resemblance to a bean. “But it’s a very beautiful and imposing structure. Look at us, Meg. Look what all that work is doing to our bodies,” he teased, as they stared at their distorted images in the sculpture.

She bopped him on the arm. “Etienne, you promised to transform me into a gorgeous woman, not this hideous creature I see here. What have you done to me, you evil man?” she teased.

A group of teenage tourists standing nearby gave the two of them a strange look, and Etienne held out his hands in mock surrender. “She’s been working much too hard,” he told them, and Meg couldn’t help laughing. “Her mind is going.”

“Maybe she’s a little crazy, but your woman has some fine legs,” a boy in the group said.

Etienne chuckled. “I couldn’t agree with you more,” he said.

“They think we’re strange,” Meg told him as the two of them moved on through the park.

“And involved,” Etienne pointed out.

Instantly Meg sobered. She didn’t want him to think that she was growing too attached to him. She didn’t want to grow too attached to him. “Well, at least we know that we’re just business partners.”

“And friends,” he reminded her.

“Yes. And this friend still has more to show you.” It was Thursday and there would be a concert at the Pritzker Pavilion later, but it hadn’t started yet, so they walked over to the Crown Fountain, two huge structures connected by a reflecting pool and projecting the everchanging images of over one thousand Chicago residents. “The kids love it when an image opens its mouth and water flows out. It’s pretty cool. Come on.” And without another word, Meg took off her shoes, held them in one hand and walked out into the reflecting pool.

Etienne shook his head and followed suit. “When you told me you were going to take me sightseeing, I was picturing something more dignified.”

“Museums?”

“Maybe.”

“Theater?”

“Of course.”

“No dancing in the fountain?”

“Not a chance. That’s not sightseeing.”

“What is it?”

He laughed. “It’s just plain fun, Meg. This was just what I needed. This letting loose.”

The two of them joined in with the kids and a few other adults. Etienne took Meg’s hand and led her into a romping polka, their feet kicking up water. “It’s the only dance I do well,” she explained. “It’s wild and fast and I can lead and no one seems to notice.”

A few minutes later, somewhere in the distance, the concert started up, the majestic and imposing strains of “Respighi’s Pines of Rome” echoing throughout the park. The music was beautiful, but Meg’s eyelids were beginning to droop.

Etienne led her out of the fountain, made her sit on a bench and reached out for her foot.

“What are you doing?” she asked, instantly awake.

“I’m putting your shoes on.”

“I can do that.”

“Too late. I already did,” he said, deftly cupping her foot in his palm and sliding her shoe on. There was something so intimate about the gesture that Meg felt a tingling running from the sole of her foot all the way up through her body. And then he did it again, with the other shoe.

All traces of tiredness had fled by now.

“Come on, Meg,” he said as he put his own shoes back on. “I’m taking you home.”

“There were more things I wanted to show you,” she said. “Navy Pier. The giant Ferris wheel. The cruises on the lake.”

“Another day,” he said. “You’re tired.”

But somehow she knew that there wouldn’t be another day. She had started attending functions, talking up the company. Orders were starting to trickle in. The wheels of Fieldman’s were picking up speed, and soon she and Etienne would be headed to Paris for one last push at an entirely different set of potential customers. And once the expo in Paris was over…Etienne was over, too.

“Another day,” she agreed.

When she opened her apartment door, the phone was ringing. “Go ahead,” Etienne said and she moved to answer it. When she returned he was standing in the middle of her apartment. Lightning was flirting with him shamelessly, standing on the couch next to him and rubbing up against him.

“I thought you had a cat,” he said.

“I do.”

“No. I can hear another meow from somewhere.” He gestured with his head.

Meg shrugged. “The other cats are Pride and Prejudice.” She nodded toward the other room. “They were supposed to simply be foster cats, but they’re a pair and difficult to place. They’re shy. Eventually, they’ll come out.” She went about the business of putting food out, talking soothingly to each cat as she fed them.

“And all three cats get along?” Etienne asked.

“They’re my family. Family members do not fight other family members. If I can prevent it,” she added.