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

A long moment pregnant with tension passed before he spoke again. “How long are we supposed to wait before you make a final decision?” he said stiffly.

Georgie stifled the impulse to smile. She knew he wouldn’t be able to see a smile, but perhaps he would sense it. “I expect to have my recommendation ready by the end of the week.”

“I see.”

She knew he wouldn’t complain because he had probably thought she’d take much longer than that. “In fact,” she added, “I’ve finished going over all the paperwork given to us so far. Now all that’s left is last quarter’s financial report, which Ms. Love has promised will be in my hands no later than Wednesday.”

“You’ll call me immediately upon making your decision.”

Now Georgie did smile. “Absolutely. You’ll be the first to know.”

Pierce said a terse goodbye without thanking her. But Georgie hadn’t expected thanks. It was enough that he had been made to realize that he wasn’t calling the shots.

She was, whether he liked it or not.

It normally gave Georgie no pleasure to brandish her power over applicants, but in the case of Jonathan Pierce, that rule didn’t hold true. It gave her a great deal of pleasure to knock that supercilious man down a peg or two. If he hadn’t been such a pain in the butt, she would have told him that unless the cancer center’s last quarterly financial report showed some discrepancy, their application was all but approved now. That she was making him wait (and sweat a bit, she hoped) was exactly what he deserved for his immature behavior.

She wished Zach were still here, so she could tell him about the conversation. Instead, she sent him an email saying she’d like to meet with him in the morning. She added the teaser, to tell you about my conversation with Jonathan Pierce. She smiled, thinking how much Zach would enjoy hearing about the exchange.

Less than thirty minutes later, her email program alerted her to new mail from Zachary Prince.

If you don’t have plans for the evening, he wrote, maybe you’d like to come for dinner. Fanny made stuffed pork chops. We can talk about Pierce then.

Georgie was so surprised, she had to read the message twice to make sure she hadn’t made it up. She immediately wrote back. I don’t have any plans. What time shall I come?

A minute later he answered, saying, Great. Let’s say six-thirty. See you then.

Georgie didn’t know what had prompted the invitation, but she’d have been lying if she said she wasn’t looking forward to the evening. Now that she had changed her opinion of Zach, she could actually admit she enjoyed his company. And, if she was being completely honest (oh, Joanna would laugh at her!), she did enjoy looking at him.

“Well, you look awfully pleased with yourself,” Deborah said from the open doorway.

Georgie jumped.

Deborah laughed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. So what did the great man say?”

For a moment, Georgie thought Deborah was referring to Zach, and she couldn’t think what to answer. But then she realized Deborah meant Jonathan Pierce when she’d said “great man.” “He tried to intimidate me by saying he didn’t want to work with me … again. I guess he thought if he said it enough times—especially with Zach not there to protect me—I’d cower or something.”

Deborah grinned. “I’ve only known you a few days, and I already know you’re not the sort of person to cower … for anyone.” She shook her head. “Wonder how men like Jonathan Pierce get to be that way? Think they have domineering fathers? Who maybe treated their mothers like serfs? Or maybe treated them like serfs?”

Georgie shrugged. “Beats me. I’m no psychologist.”

“Well, I’m glad you showed the good doc he can’t push you around, with or without Zach.” Deborah glanced at her watch. “It’s almost quitting time.” Looking up, she smiled. “Hey, if you don’t have plans for the evening, want to come and have dinner with me and my son? Jack’s in Cleveland on business, and it’s just me and Kevin tonight. Nothing fancy, though. We’re having spaghetti and meatballs.”

“Oh, thanks, Deborah, I would’ve loved to, but I do have plans. In fact, I’m going over to Zach’s for dinner. He just now invited me. I guess he’s anxious for a play-by-play of my phone conversation with the great Dr. Pierce.”

“Oh, that’ll be fun. You’ll get to meet his kids.”

Had Deborah given her an odd look? “I’ve already met Katie. We stopped by the apartment on the way back from our meeting at Carlyle so Zach could pick up some files he’d forgotten.”

“How is she? Is she feeling better?”

“She told Zach she was.” Yes, that was definitely an odd look. Speculative. Or was she being paranoid again?

Deborah sighed. “I feel so bad for those kids. Katie especially. She’s taken the death of her mother really hard. When Jenny died, the other two were really too young to be affected. Well, Jeremy probably remembers her a little—he was three when Jenny first got sick and four when she died. But Emma was just a baby.”

“It’s sad they lost their mother so young.”

“It’s heartbreaking, actually.” She turned as if to leave, then said, “It’s been really tough on Zach.”

“I can imagine,” Georgie said. “Raising three young children on his own. That’s a lot of responsibility. Plus … losing his wife. She must have been very young.”

“She’d just turned thirty-four.”

Thirty-four. Georgie swallowed, imagining only having four more years to live.

“It was awful,” Deborah continued. “Such a sad time for everyone. Jenny’s mother was devastated. Jenny’s father had died a few years earlier, and Jenny was an only child. Zach has done a wonderful job on his own, though. I really admire him. He’s got his priorities straight. Unlike a lot of men, he always puts his kids first.”

Had Deborah added that last bit for Georgie’s benefit? Oh, surely not. Georgie was imagining things.

“I admire that, too,” she said. Georgie couldn’t help but think of her uncle Harry, who hadn’t put his kids first and had paid dearly for that neglect. But at least he’d wised up eventually and made things right with his sons.

“I do hope Zach will meet someone one of these days, though,” Deborah said thoughtfully. “He’s far too young to be alone. Besides, those children really need a mother.”

Those children really need a mother.

The words seemed to echo in the room after Deborah left.

As Georgie cleaned up her desk and got ready to leave herself, she kept thinking about them.

Those children really need a mother.

Georgie knew, if she had any sense at all, she’d steer a wide path around Zach. He was far too attractive, and the more she learned about him, the more she liked him. I shouldn’t be going to his apartment for dinner. I should have said no.

Yet, what was the harm? It wasn’t a date or anything close. It was just dinner, and his kids would be there.

True, but just yesterday, she’d decided she was going to keep her distance from him. Of course, yesterday she’d thought he was married, and today she knew he wasn’t.

Did that make any difference, though? He might not be married, but as Deborah had pointed out, he had three young children who needed a mother—the kind of life that was eons removed from Georgie’s.

And if Georgie had learned anything in her thirty years, she’d learned that it was dangerous to play with fire. And her undeniable attraction to Zach was definitely fire. Plus, aside from all else, he’s your boss. She grimaced, imagining what Joanna would say. Georgie had certainly cautioned her about getting mixed up with her boss.

If I had any brains at all, I’d run for the nearest airport and hightail it on home.

But since she couldn’t do that, and since she couldn’t call Zach up and say she couldn’t make it tonight after all without looking like an idiot, she would make sure that from now on she would stick to her original decision. She would steer a wide path around him. She would be friendly and helpful at the office, and she would firmly stay away from him at all other times.

No matter how much she might be tempted otherwise.

When Cornelia arrived home from the club, she smelled the flowers before she saw them: an enormous bouquet of hyacinths mixed with tiny white roses. She didn’t have to look at the accompanying card to know they’d been sent by Harry.