The Reluctant Cinderella. Christine Rimmer
out through the dining room.
Megan trailed her to the door, where Carly paused, swallowed back the tears that were shining in her eyes, and asked, “Your next meeting with Greg and his dad and the executives, when is that?”
“Monday.”
“Well, you’d better call me afterward this time. Promise?”
“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 colonials. 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