Meet Mr. Prince / Once a Cowboy...: Meet Mr. Prince

Zach laughed, too. “What about your sisters? Do they all have boys’ names, too?”

“Afraid so. Frankie—actually, Francesca—is named for my dad’s brother. Bobbie was going to be Robert, and Tommi would have been Thomas.” Georgie made a face. “When we were younger, we all hated our names. There I was, in class with a million Heathers and Tiffanys and Kims … and me with a name like Georgie. And, of course, being the tallest girl in my class didn’t help.”

“My sister’s tall, too. She also hated it when she was young, but now she realizes it’s an advantage.”

Just then the driver asked a question, and after Zach had answered, he said he wanted to give her a brief rundown on the two main contacts she would be working with at Carlyle during her evaluation of the cancer center. “Jonathan Pierce can be hard to deal with,” he began.

Georgie had familiarized herself with Dr. Pierce’s background that morning. A specialist, Pierce had sixteen years’ experience in pediatric oncology/hematology, had trained at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center and was board certified in both specialties.

“Why is he hard to deal with?”

“He’s a sought-after doctor who is highly regarded, but he resents the fact that the foundation required the center to meet certain conditions to be eligible for one of our grants.”

“But that’s standard practice with nonprofits, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Zach said. “Yet I can understand how he feels. Pierce is passionate about what they do at Carlyle. He expected to be approved immediately. Whereas Carolyn Love, the CFO—she’s the other one you’ll meet today—is more tolerant of our position, because she understands budgetary constraints and that we have a board to answer to.”

Just then, the cab pulled up to the entrance of the center, which was a division of Carlyle Clinic, and a few minutes later they were on their way to the third floor, where the administrative offices were located.

“I think it would be best if you let me do the talking today,” Zach said as they stepped off the elevator.

Georgie bristled. “Why?”

“Because, as I said before, Pierce can be a tough nut.”

“So? I’ll have to deal with him sometime.”

“I know, but it’ll be better if we ease him into the new relationship.”

“You don’t trust me, do you?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that I’m used to Pierce. You’re not.”

“Seems to me letting me take charge today would be the best way to get used to him.”

“Look, bottom line? He can be a bit arrogant when it comes to women.”

Oh, great. Fortunately, most of the men Georgie’d worked with during her time with the Hunt Foundation were the opposite; most didn’t care what your gender was, they were simply grateful for any help they could get. Of course, that didn’t always hold true for some of the bureaucrats she’d had dealings with. She’d often wondered why the least important political hack put on the most airs. The way she’d always dealt with these types was to let them know right off the bat that she wasn’t going to put up with any B.S. from them … or anyone.

“Look,” she said to Zach, “I am not one of those seen-but-not-heard women. And I refuse to pretend to be.”

Zach sighed. “I can’t stop you from talking. But it would make things a lot easier for everyone if you’d just back off a little. You and I know you’re going to be in charge, and Jonathan Pierce will soon know it, too. I just don’t want to rub his nose in it today, okay?”

“Oh, all right,” she finally said. “I’ll keep my mouth shut and let you do the talking.” This time.

Maybe the expression on her face gave away her thoughts, because he raised his eyebrows. “Why do I get the feeling Jonathan Pierce better watch out?”

Chapter Five

The meeting hadn’t been too bad, Georgie thought. Although Zach had done most of the talking, she hadn’t felt like a fifth wheel, because he’d included her in his remarks, saying things like, “I know Miss Fairchild agrees,” or “After today, please contact Miss Fairchild with any questions or concerns.”

She’d only broken her promise to Zach once, and that was at the very end of their meeting, when they’d all stood and were saying their goodbyes. Georgie had turned to Carolyn Love—and Zach had been right about her: She was businesslike, and Georgie immediately liked her—to say she’d call for an appointment in the next few days, and Jonathan Pierce had said, pointedly, to Zach, “Call me as soon as you’ve made your decision, Zach, so I can get that new equipment ordered.”

Before Zach could open his mouth to reply, Georgie said, also pointedly, “Dr. Pierce, you’ve already been told that it’s me you’ll be dealing with from now on. I’ll be the one calling you.”

Pierce’s gray eyes had darkened, and he’d glared at her. But before he could reply, Zach said, “Yes, Jonathan, Miss Fairchild will be contacting you.”

They were saved additional histrionics by the doctor’s pager going off, and he’d abruptly left the small conference room where the meeting had taken place, but not before giving Georgie the evil eye. She almost laughed. Her eyes had met Zach’s and he’d winked.

Maybe I’ve misjudged him, she thought grudgingly.

She and Zach rode the elevator down to the main floor in silence. There were hospital personnel getting on and off; it paid to be discreet.

Georgie tightened her scarf as they exited the building. She was also glad she was wearing warm leather gloves, because the temperature seemed to have dropped while they were inside. Or maybe the contrast between the warm building and the bitterly cold February wind just made it feel colder out. Georgie did notice how quickly most of the people on the sidewalk were moving, most with their heads down.

Before hailing a cab, Zach turned to her and said, “Do you mind if we stop off at my apartment before going back to the office? I left some files there that I meant to bring with me this morning.”

“No, that’s fine.”

A cab pulled over almost immediately, and they got in. Georgie found she was actually looking forward to seeing where Zach lived. Maybe she’d even get to meet his wife.

“My oldest daughter is home sick today,” he said after giving the driver their destination. “She’s got a strep infection.”

“I used to get those when I was a kid. They’re not any fun.”

“No. She was pretty miserable yesterday, but the antibiotic seems to be doing its job. She seemed better this morning.”

Georgie knew it was none of her business, but he’d given her an opening, so she said, “Is that why you left the office early yesterday afternoon?”

He only hesitated a moment before shaking his head. “No. I had an appointment at Katie’s school.” He sighed. “She’s had a rough time since her mother died.”

Georgie’s mouth went dry. “Your … your wife died?”

“Yes. Jenny … had cancer.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you.”

Georgie’s mind spun. A lot of her ideas about Zach had been wrong, then. He wasn’t married. And he wasn’t a playboy who stayed out late every night. He was a widower with three young children. That’ll teach me to be so judgmental, to jump to conclusions about people.

What else had she been wrong about? Maybe he wasn’t a slacker as far as work was concerned, either. He certainly had conducted himself well today, and he definitely seemed to know what he was talking about. She could see that both Jonathan Pierce and Carolyn Love respected him. And Love, in particular, had impressed Georgie as the kind of businesswoman who wouldn’t be easy to fool.

Georgie wondered if Zach would say anything more, but he turned away from her and stared out the window on his side … or pretended to. She wondered how long ago his wife had died. Maybe his children weren’t as young as she’d originally thought. Maybe that photo on his desk had been taken a while ago. But she’d be willing to bet that Zach was only in his thirties. He certainly didn’t look any older than that. So unless he’d married right out of high school, which she was certain wouldn’t be the case, his children couldn’t be that old.

Now she was avidly curious about him. Why hadn’t Alex informed her that Zach was a widower? Yet why should he? She realized Alex rarely repeated anything personal about any of the Hunt Foundation employees, especially since she’d begun working for him. Actually, she appreciated his respect for their privacy. That told her he would not have discussed anything personal about her, either, not with Zach and not with any of the people she’d worked with or for.

Her mind teemed with unanswered questions during the ten-minute cab ride. When the taxi pulled up in front of an apartment building on W. 66th Street, right around the corner from Lincoln Center, Georgie blinked in surprise. Even as a newcomer to the city, she recognized that they were in a high-rent district.