The Bachelor's Cinderella: The Frenchman's Plain-Jane Project

“I’m planning something,” she said, not hesitating lest she lose her nerve. “The thing is that everyone has been a bit stressed lately. With the way things are taking off with Fieldman’s, it’s kind of like watching an airplane trying to take off over a mountain range. You hope it will make it, but you’re not completely sure that it can clear the upper peaks.”

He grinned.

“Okay, I know why you’re looking at me like that. The mountain analogy didn’t quite cut it, but what I’m saying is still true in its own way, isn’t it?”

“Absolument,Meg. C’est vrai. Of course. You’re right.”

Meg’s breathing kicked up and she wanted to groan. She hated when he spoke French even though he was always careful to translate for her. No, that was so wrong. She totally loved it when he spoke French, but it made her shake and burn inside so much that it scared her. French should be illegal or it should at least come with a warning label.

“But I still don’t understand,” he said, nodding toward the bag.

“It’s simple,” she explained, dropping her bag of objects with a clatter. “Everyone is tense. We’re beginning to snap at each other.”

“I haven’t heard you snapping at anyone.”

She blushed. Okay, she was lying just a little. And she might even lie a little more. “On the inside I was snapping,” she explained, and she quickly raised one hand. “Do not, under any circumstances, raise that eyebrow.”

So, he didn’t. He grinned, with those darn dimples that made her shiver.

“All right, Meg. What were you snapping about on the inside?”

She thought. Long. Hard. Trying to come up with a plausible answer. “I can’t think of what it was right now, but there was something, and anyway, the whys and wherefores are beside the point. The point is that we’re all under a lot of pressure. The expo is coming up in just two weeks and we need some way to let off steam. Hence, this.”

She gestured toward the canvas bag she had been carrying.

“I see,” he said. “And what is this?”

Meg pulled out a bat. “We’re going to do something to help us get back to bonding and away from snapping. Something we can all do together as…as friends, but also as business partners. I understand that lots of businesses have teams of one sort or another and since there’s a big field right outside our door, I thought that tomorrow at lunchtime, we could have a very short game of…of baseball.”

“Of course. Do you play a lot of baseball, Meg?”

“Not a lot, no.” In fact she had been horrible at all sports in school, but at least she knew the basics of baseball. And the equipment was simple, the field was there and she’d heard Jeff and some of the other men discussing the sport. This could be a good thing. It could take some of the edge she’d been feeling around Etienne off and bring her thoughts back to mere friendship. She hoped. “I thought you might captain one team and I would captain the other. I checked on the Internet and I know this isn’t a very popular game in France but they do play it, don’t they? There were eight major league baseball players in America who were born there, although…not for a while and not all even in the twentieth century. I would have chosen something else, like soccer…I mean your football…except I thought it would be best to have a low contact sport so that everyone could feel comfortable and not self-conscious. Not much touching in baseball, is there?” Oh, would someone please shut her up already?

“Except for the tagging part,” he said. “That would be touching.”

“But the baseball glove or at least having to have a ball in your hand when you tag a person would make it okay,” she reasoned. “I was hoping this might be fun.” Did she really sound wistful, hopeful, nervous? This had seemed like such a good idea when she’d thought of it, but now…She was terrible at sports. She’d been doing so well here, otherwise. This wasn’t a good idea at all, was it?

“It’s an excellent idea,” Etienne said as if he’d been reading her mind. “And yes, people are getting a little tense. Let’s do it.”

“All right, I’ll announce it today. That way everyone can bring casual clothes. Shall we shorten the game to either three innings or an hour, whichever comes first?” She was beginning to feel better now. Organization was something she understood. Meg smiled and started to leave the room to make the announcement over the intercom.

“Meg, it is a great idea. And I think this might help with Paula, too.”

She didn’t even ask what he meant. No matter how much Meg had asked the people at Fieldman’s to try and accept Paula, the woman was having a rough time of it. “I know. I think people are afraid that if they show her any kindness that they’ll be disloyal to me.”

“I can understand why they feel that way.”

“I know. They think she hurt me and that I might still be hurting. I’ll be putting her on my team to try to dispel that notion, if that’s okay with you.”

And Meg realized that while she wasn’t heartbroken over Alan anymore, Paula did make her nervous in one very unacceptable way. Paula’s eyes followed Etienne everywhere. She clearly had a crush…or more, and Paula was just as cute and tiny and as much of a showstopper as she had been before. Meg hated that she even noticed that. Jealousy was not in her plans. She had no right to notice anything that went on between Etienne and Paula, so yes, Paula was going to be on her team, and she and Paula were going to work together.

“She’s yours,” Etienne said. “And Meg?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. I’ve never played baseball before, but I have a feeling that this is going to be an unforgettable experience.”

Meg had the feeling that it was, too. Had she really thought this through? Of course not, but heck, she had set it up and now she was going through with it. And she was going to make sure that Etienne enjoyed his first experience with baseball.

After all, what could really go wrong?

Etienne’s team was in danger of losing, not because he didn’t get the game. It was fairly simple, after all. And not because he was so inept. He’d discovered that he had a natural aptitude for hitting the ball with the bat, pitching and catching.

No, the problem was that he was worried about Meg. She seemed so determined to make sure that everyone had a good time, especially him, that she was running herself ragged. And also…she was just so very cute in her blue jeans and red T-shirt, with her inability to do anything that remotely resembled playing the game. She couldn’t hit, throw or catch, but she was still making such a valiant effort that it was all but impossible not to want her to win.

He could tell that he wasn’t the only one, either. Jeff was pitching now and while he was doing his best to give Meg easy pitches, she wasn’t getting anywhere near the ball when she swung. Etienne looked at Jeff and the man seemed to be perspiring heavily.

“Jeff, don’t look so worried. This is just a game,” Meg said, propping her bat on the ground. But Etienne knew that Jeff didn’t have any fear that Meg would fire him. She was the only person who hadn’t managed to make contact with the ball today and the man just wanted it for her so badly.

“Now,” Etienne said, hoping that his low tone would carry to Jeff but not to Meg.

Apparently it worked. “Are you sure, Meg?” Jeff asked, but as he did, he threw the ball…straight toward her now stationary bat. It hit the wood and bounced back slightly into the field. A fair, playable ball.

“Run, Ms. Leighton!” Paula screeched.

Meg’s eyes went wide. No one dove for the ball even though Lily, the catcher, could have easily reached it.

Meg glanced at her bat, at the ball, at the bat. She ran. Fast. Around first base, around second, nearing third as her team members jumped up and down and yelled and as the members of Etienne’s team smiled and didn’t do much of anything. But Etienne knew this deal wasn’t completed yet. If Lily didn’t go for the ball soon, Meg would be coming around third base and heading toward home plate with the ball lying not three feet away, right where it had fallen when it thudded off the bat. And while Jeff might have managed to surprise Meg with that hit, and while she hadn’t yet noticed the op-position’s inactivity, she was a highly intelligent woman. Eventually she would figure it out if no one made any effort at all. And Meg was not the kind of woman you let win. She would take it personally.

But what to do? Lily could still pick it up but Etienne wasn’t sure that she would without some coaxing. As for him, he was playing short stop, not that close to the home plate. Still, he sprinted toward the base. Not too fast since he didn’t want to beat her there, but not so slow that she would suspect.

As he moved, he looked at Meg. She was running, running, her pretty hair flying out behind her. Etienne was approaching the ball, but at this pace Meg would make it over the plate first. He could tag her just after the fact just as he wanted to and she would have scored for her team. He took his time when he scooped up the ball.

But Lily was standing near the plate, yelling Meg on and encouraging her. Suddenly Meg, fearing she would hit Lily, veered aside. She collided with Etienne, a bundle of soft skin and hair and elbows, one of which caught him in the side. Caught totally off guard, he took the hit full force and winced. Then, seeing she was falling down, he ignored his pain and reached for her. Too late. He missed. Meg fell to the ground, her body sliding on the dirt.

Etienne swore, in French, in English, even in Spanish.

“Meg! Ma chère, are you hurt?” Immediately he dropped to his knees and started examining her, running his hands over her. Her leg was bent slightly crooked and he couldn’t tell if anything was broken or damaged. “Meg, talk to me. Say something. Say anything, all right?”

She gazed up into his eyes, blinking. “I…I ran into you. I didn’t see you. Did I hurt you?”

Etienne closed his eyes. He let out a breath of relief. Then he opened his eyes and gazed down at her. He smiled. “Never.”

Now her eyes were starting to clear. She was focusing. “Then…did I make it?”

No, she hadn’t. Her arm was over her head, but the base was half an inch beyond, and he had touched her while holding the ball. By now he knew the rules of the game and that meant that she was out and hadn’t scored for her team. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Paula and Lily exchange a look.

Then Paula suddenly rushed forward and fell to her knees. “I…Years ago I started nursing school and I’ve had CPR training. Now I know that you think you feel all right, Ms. Leighton, but it just never hurts to make sure. Let me ask you a few questions just to be on the safe side. How many fingers am I holding up? What’s your name? And what day is it?”