The Reluctant Cinderella (4 page)

“I will.”

She reached up to smooth her perfect hair. “I want to hear all about it, now. I mean it.”

Since the meeting next Monday was going to be business and nothing but, Megan told herself, she had zero to worry about. “You bet.”

Carly's forced smile widened. “Good luck.”

Megan thanked her again, and at last she left.

Back in the kitchen, big sister was waiting. “Okay.” Angela pushed her plate to the side and picked up her coffee cup. “What the heck is going on?”

Megan picked up her own cup and leaned against the counter. “Absolutely nothing.”

Angela gave a tiny snort. “Liar.”

Megan scowled at her sister. Leave it to Angela to cut right to the chase. “Really. It's nothing.” Because I'm not letting it become
something.

Angela wasn't buying. “Something happened. With Greg Banning…” Megan winced—and her sister had one of those lightbulb moments. “Oh. My. Gosh.” She sent a glance over her shoulder, as if checking to see if Rhonda Johnson or Irene Dare or some other neighborhood busybody might be lurking there. And then she whispered, “You and Greg…?”

Megan plunked her cup down and crossed her arms over her midsection. “No. That's not so. I'm telling you, nothing happened.”

Angela patted the stool that Carly had vacated. “Sit. Now.”

With a put-upon sigh, Megan took the stool. “What?”

“Exactly
what
happened while nothing was happening?”

“I gave the presentation. I was terrific.”

“Of course you were.”

“He said he wanted to hear more….”

“Yeah, and?”

“He asked me to lunch—and don't get that look. Nothing was said, you know? He didn't…make any moves or ask me out or anything.”

“Well, he asked you to
lunch.
”

“Angela. Come on. Sometimes Dr. Zefflinger takes you to lunch. Does that mean he's putting a move on you?”

“Dr. Zefflinger is happily married, not to mention almost sixty.”

Megan blew out a breath. “Not my point.”

“Oh, really?”

“Ange. Business colleagues go to lunch all the time. It's perfectly acceptable—in fact, a nice lunch is a good way to get to know the people you're working with. It doesn't have to be a man-woman thing.”

Angela looked at her long and hard. Then she nodded. “Right. It doesn't have to be. But this is.”

Megan lowered her head and groaned. “Why is this happening?”

Angela waited until she raised her eyes again. “You really like him. I mean, you really,
really
like him.”

“Why are we talking about this?”

“Because you need to talk about it.”

“No. I don't.”

“Yes, you do—and you said he didn't ask you out?”

“He didn't. I don't believe he will. I believe he's going to think it over, the way
I've
been thinking it over, and decide that it's a terrible idea for him and me to ever…get together.”

Angela frowned. “Wait.”

“What?”

“Well, what did he
do
to let you know he was interested? I mean, if taking you to lunch doesn't count. If he didn't say anything or do anything, if he didn't come on to you…”

“Oh, please. You know how it is, the little things
a guy does, the…electricity in the air, when there's attraction.”

Angela made a face. “I'm a single mom with almost no free time. I wouldn't know a date if it fell on me. I work for a pediatric dentist who, as I just pointed out, is sixty and very married to his wife of forty years. Let's just say I've forgotten, okay? Refresh my memory.”

“Arrgh.”

“Come on. Fill me in.”

“He…um, well, in the restaurant, he put his hand over mine when I told him about how my birth parents died—and then he didn't take it away. I had to kind of slide my own hand out from under it. And earlier…that first moment when I walked in his office. Oh, Ange.” Megan put her hand against her fast-beating heart. “You should have seen his face. Shocked. Amazed. Awestruck. Thrilled. Excited. All of the above. And I felt the same way. But I covered it. Pretty well, I think. I was the soul of professionalism.”

“Oh, I know you were.”

“…Until those last few moments outside the restaurant, before he sent me home in the limo.”

“He gave you his limo—to come all the way to Rosewood from Manhattan?”

“Farther. To Poughkeepsie. I went on up to the office. I tried to give the driver a big tip, but he only shook his head and said that Mr. Banning had already taken care of it.”

Angela's eyes were saucer-wide. “Well, okay. I'm convinced. I mean, his
limo…
”

“Exactly.”

“So what happened? On the sidewalk, before the limo?”

“Oh, I don't know.” Megan's cheeks were flaming. She pressed her hands to them to cool them a little. “It was just…I just knew he was going to kiss me. And oh, did I ever want him to do that. He grabbed my hand again. And, same as in the restaurant, he didn't let go. I considered just, you know, kind of throwing myself against him. But I controlled myself. Thank God for that.”

“And you'll see him again next Monday?”

“Yeah.”

“And if he asks you out then…?”

“He won't.”

“Go with me here. What if he does?”

“Well, I'll have to say no, of course.”

“Why?”

“Oh, come on. You know why. Because it wouldn't be fair to Carly. Because it would be so cruel.”

“Megan. The fact is, Carly and Greg are divorced. Not separated. Not
getting
a divorce. They are no longer married and they aren't together in any way. They're through.”

“But Carly hopes—”

“It's not your fault what Carly hopes. Greg hasn't been on Danbury Way since she threw him out of Tara.” The rest of the houses on the street were colo
nials. But Carly's huge house, with its tall pillars and wide front veranda, looked like something out of
Gone with the Wind.
The neighbors referred to it either as Tara or, more commonly, the McMansion. “He's not coming back. Carly needs to accept that her marriage is finished, and get going on the rest of her life. She's a beautiful woman, inside and outside. And it's a shame that she's throwing her life away waiting for a man who's gone for good. You're not doing her any favors by turning Greg down for her sake.”

“But…you know how people talk. She'd be mortified. And even worse than all the gossip, she'd think I went behind her back and went after him when she was so sweet and got me the interview in the first place.”

“So don't go behind her back. If he asks you out and you decide to go for it, the classy way to handle the situation would be to speak frankly to Carly about it.”

Megan's stomach felt as if a big, hard fist was squeezing it. “To
tell
her that I'm dating Greg….”

“That's right,” said Angela.

Megan cringed and Angela saw it. She spoke more gently. “It wouldn't be such a terrible thing for you, either, you know? If for once in your life you went after what you wanted instead of always going along with what everyone else wants.”

“I go after what I want.”

“In your work, yes. But on Danbury Way…?” Angela answered her own question with a shake of her golden head. “Look. Just think about it, okay?”

“I can't, Ange. I won't. I'm not getting anything going with Greg Banning, so there's no reason for me to ever talk to Carly about it.”

F
rom the moment Greg walked into the bright, high-ceilinged offices of Design Solutions in the heart of downtown Poughkeepsie, he knew all his firm resolutions meant zip. There was no way he could keep things strictly business with Megan Schumacher.

That day she wore purple. Stunning, bright, gorgeous purple with a hint of white lace under her short, form-fitting jacket. He took one look at her flushed, adorable face, saw the little dimple in the curve of her cheek and realized it was hopeless.

He was sorry about Carly, sorry he didn't love her anymore. Sorry that in the neighborhood there would no doubt be talk about him and Megan. Sorry that
Carly would probably end up suffering more than she'd already suffered.

Yeah. He was sorry.

But Megan was…

Words failed him.

He only knew that he had to take his best shot at getting closer to her. When the deal was made and he could get rid of his father and the other Banning's executives, he was taking her to lunch—and after lunch, he was doing everything in his power to convince her to stay at his side until dinner. And after dinner, to get her to see that they should go home to his place and she should stay the night. In the morning, there should be breakfast. And lunch tomorrow. And an intimate dinner tomorrow night.

Was that crazy?

He hoped so. Greg Banning had been waiting all his life to go crazy over the right woman. And now that he'd finally found her, he wasn't letting the chance for a little glorious, happy, wild, wonderful insanity slip through his fingers. Not without one hell of a fight.

He introduced her and her team to his father and to the three dark-suited Banning's vice presidents. She spent a few minutes detailing the qualifications of each of her people, explaining the jobs they all did and how each would contribute to the update of the Banning's brand.

They dropped the shades and dimmed the lights for the Flash presentation, which was every bit as convincing as he'd expected it would be. Once the
show was over, the secretary brought in refreshments. Two hours of brainstorming and Q&A followed.

Those were informative, important hours. Greg gave his full attention to the task at hand. At the same time, he longed for it all to be over. He couldn't wait to get busy convincing Megan that the two of them had a lot more than business to transact.

It all went off beautifully. Design Solutions won the contract. Next, it would go to legal. Megan, her Web guy and her senior graphic artist would come down into the city on Friday to firm up all the details.

Of course, after the meeting, his father insisted on taking everyone to lunch. But Megan was one step ahead of Gregory Banning, Sr. She had reservations at a really good seafood place right on the Hudson a few miles from her office.

It was after two when his father and the three other executives finally climbed into the stretch limousine and headed back to Manhattan. Greg sent them off without him, explaining that he'd take the train down later, as he had a few more points to go over with Megan.

He didn't mention that the “points” in question had nothing at all to do with Design Solutions or the big job Megan and her team had just been hired to accomplish. Why should he? They—especially his father—didn't need to know.

Not yet, anyway.

Megan had called a couple of cabs to get her
people back to the office. He took her aside as the others climbed in.

“Stay. Please. I need to talk to you.”

She looked flushed, suddenly. And bewildered. A whole other woman from the smart, savvy entrepreneur who'd just sold Banning's, Inc. on a complete image makeover. “But I didn't plan to—”

He cut in—fast—before she could find a way to say no. “You really
need
to go back inside that terrific restaurant with me.”

“Um. I do?”

“You need another cup of coffee. Or maybe a glass of wine.”

“Oh, no. No wine.” She looked really scared.

And that made him smile. “Coffee it is, then.”

“But—”

“Stay right there. Don't even move.”

She actually did what he'd told her to do, stood there on the sidewalk as he paid the two cabbies and sent her employees on their way. Then he took her arm—hours and hours he'd been waiting for the chance to do that, to take her arm, to clasp her hand….

He took her arm and he turned her and led her back inside, where the hostess gave them a little table tucked away in a corner. It was quiet in the restaurant by then. Nice, in that easy time after lunch ended and before the dinner rush began. The waitress brought them cups and cream and sugar and served them from a silver pot.

When she left them alone, Megan slanted him a look from under her lashes. “All right,” she said, both breathless and grim. “What?”

He didn't know how to begin. Yet surprisingly, when he spoke, he found he sounded sure. And confident. “I think you know.”

And she did know. She sighed and looked down into her full cup of coffee as if regretting that she would never taste it. Finally, after it seemed to him he had waited forever, she met his eyes again. “Oh, Greg, I don't think we can. I'm sorry. But Carly's my friend and I can't stand to hurt her.”

“Listen,” he began. When she started to speak, he put up a hand. “Just let me say this. Okay?”

She swallowed. “All right.”

“I told you that I was an only child.” He waited for her to nod. When, reluctantly, she did, he forged on. “What I didn't say is that my parents are…” Damn. What was the word for them? “Cold, maybe. Distant. To everyone—including each other. I honestly don't think I've ever seen them touch, except in passing. Never a kiss or a hug, no public displays of affection of any kind. Banning is an important name in New York. And my mother was born a Wright—one of the Philadelphia Wrights. Their wedding was the biggest social event of 1972. Over the years, I've come to think of what they have together as more of a merger than a marriage.”

Megan nudged her untouched coffee to the side and rested her forearms on the table. “Your father did seem a little…cool.”

That made Greg chuckle. “Cool? He
almost
smiled once during lunch. For my father, that's big.
Huge, even. Trust me. Today, he was as warm and friendly as he gets.”

She glanced down, briefly, and then looked up again to search his face. “So it was tough for you, is that what you're saying—as a kid, I mean?”

“Tough?” He shrugged. “After hearing how it was for you—losing your family at seven, going into foster care—I know I've got no room to complain. I had everything.”

She was shaking her head. Her smile was tender, full of true understanding. “Everything but someone to hug you—and love you.”

He took a sip of coffee and replaced the cup in the china saucer with care. “I hated our house. So big, so quiet, so expensive and perfect and…empty. I was mostly raised by nurses and nannies. Once a day, in the evening before bed, my mother would stop by the nursery for a visit. She was always dressed for dinner when she came. I wasn't allowed to touch her, except for a quick peck on her perfectly made-up cheek before she left. I hated that. I hated my life.

“But I was…well-behaved. I was the heir to Banning's, Inc. and I did what was expected of me. I got good grades at prep school, went off to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill for college, where my dad had gone and
his
dad before him. They have one of the top business programs in the country. I was a senior, planning to stay another two years and go on through the MBA program, when I met Carly.”

Megan winced. “Carly,” she said too softly. And then she looked away. “Greg. Honestly, there's no need to go into all this.”

He spoke quietly, leaning close so no one else would hear. “You think I want to talk about Carly, to…dredge all this up again? Believe me, I don't. But I think this is the stuff that has to be said.”

Megan did meet his eyes then. And she sighed. “All right. Go on—you met Carly in college….”

“She was on full scholarship, a freshman in library science. It was at a fraternity party, the first time I saw her. She'd come with a roommate. She was so beautiful and so…I don't know. Unspoiled, I guess. We started dating. She was different than any girl I'd known. Sweeter, more…open. Or so I thought.”

Megan frowned—and jumped to the defense of her friend. “Carly
is
sweet. She's one of the nicest people I know.”

“I agree,” he said, and meant it. After all, it was only the truth. “She's very sweet—a nice woman. But open? Uh-uh. Carly has secrets. There are…walls she puts up that no one gets through. Or at least, that
I
never could get through. And take my word for it, I tried. I really believed we would be happy, you know? That we would have a houseful of wonderful, messy, loud, rambunctious kids….”

He let his voice trail off. The point was to help Megan see what it had been like with Carly, make her understand
without
making excuses. Mindful of that objective, he tried again. “Once I'd finished
school, we moved to Rosewood.” He smiled to himself, remembering. “I love Rosewood. To me, it's the ideal place to live. I was sure I wanted to settle down there the first time I visited, when Carly and I were house-hunting and went to have a look around.”

Megan almost smiled. But she was keeping it serious. He watched her quell that smile before it burst wide open. She said, “You
love
Rosewood?”

“Yeah. You think that's strange?”

“Well, I mean, I agree it's a great town. Mostly upscale. Good-quality housing. But it's hardly one-of-a-kind. There are a lot of towns upstate that are very much like it.”

“I don't know. Rosewood just says ‘home' to me. It's the best kind of place to live, clean and attractive. The streets are safe. The schools are top-notch. It's a town any man would choose as
the
place to raise his family.”

“And that was what you wanted. A family. A big one…”

“Yeah.”

“And Carly didn't want kids?”

“She said she did. But she kept putting it off—until it was too late. Whenever I mentioned getting started on our family, she would say she wasn't ready. First, she said the house we bought wasn't big enough for a family. We bought the house next door, tore our house down and built Carly's dream house on both lots. Once the house was built, I brought up the idea of kids again. She said she wanted the house
to be perfect first….” There. He'd said it. The
p
word. He repeated it. “Perfect. That was always the main push with her. Carly wanted—
needed
—for things to be perfect.”

“…And you'd already had more than enough perfection to last you a lifetime.”

He sat back in his chair. “See? You get it. You get it, exactly. Carly wanted it all to be perfect—and I wanted anything but. It was sad, really. The timing was never right for Carly and me. At the end, when it was too late for me,
then
she started making those ‘let's have a baby' noises. And by then, I could only say no, that our marriage was in trouble and we needed to deal with that first—at which point she'd clam right up on me, paste on a bright smile and change the subject. I felt…sympathy for her. Even then. I honestly did. She wanted so badly to please, you know?”

Megan was nodding, her eyes so soft. “Yeah. I know.”

“She was always dieting like crazy, to get into her size two designer clothes. She knocked herself out trying to get my mother to like and respect her. I told her that would never happen, that Vanessa Wright Banning didn't
like
anybody and only respects people she considers above her on the social scale. But Carly kept trying. She just wouldn't quit. She took cooking lessons and became a gourmet chef. I'd come home every night to a four-course meal straight out of
Bon Apétit
magazine—a meal Carly herself would hardly touch. And then there was her family….”

Megan looked thoughtful. “You know, she's never mentioned her family to me.”

“To me, either.”

“Wait a minute. I don't think I'm following.”

“I'm saying that to this day, I know pretty much zip about the Aldersons. Carly's family was always off-limits between us. When I'd ask about them, she'd either change the subject or find some other way to evade the issue. I wanted to get to know them a little, to see the town where she grew up. There was always some reason why we couldn't go there. I met her mother, Antoinette, once. Can you believe that? Once. At our engagement party. Some family emergency came up and Antoinette couldn't make it to the wedding. I never had a damn clue
what
the emergency was, even. Carly just said there was one. No details, no explanations.”

Megan was quiet for a moment. What was she thinking? He couldn't tell. Finally, she said, “I'm sorry, Greg.”

He didn't feel the least encouraged by her tone. “What does that mean?”

“It means I wish it had worked out for you and Carly. I truly do.” Megan's voice was low. And much too careful.

And suddenly, he felt anger rising. “You know what? Being sorry isn't going to make everything okay again. I hate that it turned out this way, because I always believed that when I said ‘I do,' it would mean forever. But Carly and I just weren't right for each other. We were after completely different things.
Our marriage is over. There won't be any trying again.”

“I understand.”

His heart sank. The regret in her eyes told him clearly what was coming. He went ahead and prompted her. “So…?”

“Greg. I get it. I honestly do. You're not going back to her. You're divorced and you're free to date anyone you want to date.”

He laid it right out there. “I want to date
you.
”