Plain Jane's Prince Charming

“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.