The Reluctant Cinderella

And the incredible woman in the doorway greeted him with a glowing, dimpled smile. “Greg. How’ve you been?”

Simple question. But somehow, he’d temporarily forgotten how to speak.

Superlatives scrolled through his stunned brain: amazing. Outstanding. Exceptional…

Not pretty, really. Better than pretty.

She was full-figured in a hot-pink jacket and skirt, an outfit that hugged her generous curves. She wore one of those camisole things under the jacket; he spotted a tempting hint of black lace that matched her sleek black high-heeled shoes. Her blond hair fell in soft waves to her shoulders.

Could this possibly be Angela Schumacher’s nondescript little sister?

Evidently.

He couldn’t believe it. He remembered Megan Schumacher—or rather, he didn’t remember her. To be brutally honest about it, all he could recall of her was a general, fuzzy impression of someone shy and plain and slightly overweight.

But this woman…

She literally sparkled with energy and life and…well, there was that word again: sex.

He really needed to stop thinking about sex.

Greg was a conservative man. He kept his flirtations away from the office, never mixed business with pleasure, had never gotten near another woman while he was married to Carly.

But right then, in the first five seconds after this new, astonishing Megan Schumacher entered his office, all of his fine principles flew right out the window. He wanted her. Damned if he didn’t. He wanted her bad.

And he’d been sitting there gaping at her like a teenage kid with his first big-time crush. He jumped to his feet. “Megan. It’s great to see you.”

She dimpled at him again. “Admit it. You barely remembered me. And I can see it in your eyes. You promised Carly you’d give me this meeting—and then you instantly forgot all about it.”

Ouch. She’d nailed him.

No point in denying it. “Okay, you got me,” he confessed as he stepped out from behind his big glass desk and crossed to meet her. She carried a large, soft briefcase and a hefty portfolio. He took the portfolio from her with his left hand and extended his right. “But now you’re here and so am I. And I can’t wait to hear all about what Design Solutions can do for Banning’s.”

She sent him a conspiratorial glance, one that hinted she thought he was laying it on a little thick. But all she said was, “Good. Because Design Solutions has a lot to offer you.” Her perfume tempted him—flowers, plus something slightly tart. And more than the flowers and the tartness, she smelled of…

Peaches. Damned if she didn’t smell like a sweet, ripe peach. Her hand was soft and smooth and cool. He liked the feel of it cradled in his. Liked it a lot.

He had to remind himself to let go. “Your company is relatively new, isn’t it?”

She nodded firmly. “Design Solutions is three years old and growing by leaps and bounds. I have two graphic artists on staff, a Web expert, an office manager, a clerk-receptionist and an intern who helps out wherever we need him. I’m looking at bringing in another artist and possibly even a second designer at the first of the year.” She gestured with one of those soft hands. “Just put the portfolio down anywhere.” With the tips of her fingers, she brushed the back of one of the two chairs that faced his desk. He wished those fingers were brushing him. “Sit here, beside me. I’ll boot up my laptop and we can get started…”

Sitting beside her.

Excellent idea. He took the chair she’d indicated and propped her portfolio up on the floor between them, then he sat back and watched as she took a laptop the size of Cleveland from her fat briefcase and opened the thing on the outer edge of his desk.

“I’ll show you some of the work we’ve done.” She sent him another of those captivating smiles as the big screen glowed to life. “Then I want to give you a basic idea of the many ways Design Solutions can bolster and expand on the Banning’s brand. Finally, we’ll take a look at a few things in the portfolio. It’s always good, I think, to get a sense of textures and colors, to see firsthand how the print work is going to translate. We can do so much online and with computer programs now, but sometimes digital images simply aren’t the same as holding the finished product in your hands….”

“Excellent,” he said as she started bringing up examples of work her company had done. Each one was different from the last, and each was terrific—clear and well-organized, with colors that popped and graphics that jumped right off the screen.

As she began explaining how she would work her own particular magic on Banning’s image, Greg realized he was interested—and not only in the lush, peach-scented Ms. Schumacher herself.

Her ideas for Banning’s were fresh and exciting. And Greg had been thinking lately that the company needed an upgrade on the image front. Their trademark black-and-red graphics had once seemed sophisticated and dramatic.

Now, though, gazing at the images Megan had prepared for him, the plain black-and-red seemed a little bit tired, didn’t it? A little bit old.

“We don’t want to go with different colors,” Megan suggested. “We don’t want to lose your brand recognition. We just want to…update your look a little. Instead of midnight black, we’ll make it just a tiny bit silvery. So the black has a certain…luster. No?”

He was nodding. She continued, “And we’ll go from that slightly blue red to an even brighter, more aggressive true red….”

“I like it.”

She glanced at him. That dimpled smiled bloomed and her green eyes danced. “I kind of figured you would.”

She spoke of launching a print campaign to make sure all of Banning’s customers were aware of the fresh styles they carried now. They needed, she said, to showcase the new clothing lines they’d recently introduced, the ones that targeted a younger, trendier consumer. She took apart Bannings.com, said the pages were too slow to load, and navigation could be simpler. Her Web guy, she promised, was a genius. He could get with Banning’s Web people and help them streamline the site while they worked on the various image-brand issues.

Greg listened and nodded, asked a few questions and liked the answers he got, all the while planning how he was going to get to know her better.

It might not be easy. She was direct and cheerful and friendly. But she wasn’t coming on to him. Not in the least.

Still, she had to feel it, didn’t she? The heat of attraction? She was only behaving appropriately, hiding her personal interest in him, keeping it strictly business, right?

Or was interest on her part no more than wishful thinking on his?

He just plain couldn’t believe that he’d once lived on the same street with her and never even noticed her. She was not the kind of woman a normal, red-blooded man easily forgot.

She wrapped up her presentation, and by then he was totally sold. He would have Design Solutions revamp the image of Banning’s department stores.

But there were more steps to take before he could tell her she had it locked up. Greg’s father, Gregory, Sr., chairman of the board of Banning’s, Inc., would have to be convinced, as would a couple of the vice presidents. Greg had no doubt that Megan and her team would cinch it with the rest of them, but he wasn’t telling her that. No way. If he told her, she might just smile that stunning, dimpled smile, say “Thank you very much,” and leave.

“I want to hear more,” he said, as she zipped up her portfolio. “It’s almost one. Are you hungry?”

For the first time since she’d strolled so confidently through his office door, she looked doubtful. A slight frown formed between her smooth brows. She cleared her throat. “Well, I…” The words trailed off.

He jumped right in before she could find a way to say no. “Let me take you to lunch. You like Italian? I know a great little Italian place up on Lexington at 33rd. The food is terrific and the service is, too.”

For a moment—barely a split second—he thought she looked…what? Shocked? Wary? Slightly frantic?

But before he could decide what the look might mean, it vanished. She flashed him another of those incredible smiles of hers. “Why not?” she said. “Lunch it is.”

Megan was having the time of her life.

She had so aced her presentation. Soon, there would be more meetings with more executives. She and her team would need to get right on a formal Flash presentation—one that would blow them all away.

Oh, yeah. She would get the Banning’s account, she just knew it. And now here she was, sitting next to Greg on gorgeous, glove-soft black leather in a company limo.

Greg had insisted on the limo, so she could stash her big portfolio and heavy briefcase in the trunk and forget about them while they were in the restaurant. Megan enjoyed a limo ride as much as the next girl. What was not to like?

She leaned on the padded armrest and gazed out the smoked-glass window at semideserted Manhattan streets. “I love New York on days like this.”