Myrna Mackenzie - Riches to Rags Bride / The Heiress's Baby

Hmm, that was a plan that had failed miserably, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t been right about the daydreaming. Spending her time making up castles in the air hadn’t prepared her for the real world and her current lifestyle at all.

“Those things you mentioned, is that what you did with your girlfriends?” Lucas asked.

“It’s what I think the women who’ll live here might want to do,” she said, trying not to sound too defensive. She was most definitely not going to tell Lucas how few friends she’d had. She already looked pathetic enough as it was.

“Then it sounds like a very good idea,” he said. “Excellent, in fact.”

At the words of praise a glow began deep inside Genevieve. No one had ever applauded her ideas before.

Well, don’t make too much of it. Teresa said that Lucas was a good boss. He probably praises everyone’s ideas .

“Where to next?” she asked.

“Well, after that, I don’t think there’s any need to do a play-by-play of each room. You seem to have the right idea. Instead, let’s move on to the big-picture plan. Come on. I had Jorge set up a control room last night.”

“A control room?”

“Yes. Once we get you set up and comfortable, I’ll return to my hotel where I have a bank of offices to oversee McDowell Sporting Goods and the other projects I’m involved in. I’ll drop in to check on the progress of Angie’s House and for public events, but you’ll be spearheading things, so you’ll need an office. It’s just at the top of the stairs.”

Genevieve followed him into a room that had been totally empty yesterday. Now it was filled with the latest technology, furniture, a bookcase filled with reference materials on the city, a cabinet full of supplies and a state-of-the-art sound system. There were pictures on the wall, curtains at the windows, a fresh paint smell and new carpeting.

Blinking, she shook her head. “All this for a job that will end in a few weeks?”

He shrugged. “All my jobs end in a few weeks.”

Which she supposed she already knew. Lucas was renowned for coming to a town, getting a buzz going, setting up a new store and then moving on. Surely he must have one place he called home, but if so, Teresa had said, he didn’t share that info. It was a good thing to remember. The man was both temporary and a mystery. And she’d had enough of secretive activities and men who left you empty-handed.

“Thank you for being so thorough,” she said. “I’m sure I’ll find everything I need here.” If only she knew exactly what she needed to do.

“Here’s what you’ll be doing,” Lucas said, as if he’d read her mind. He came up beside her. And for some reason she didn’t want to examine, her heart began to pound. He was much taller than her with broad shoulders and he exuded virility the way desert sand exuded heat waves. Standing this close, she felt small, feminine, as if her whole body was waiting for something to happen.

Then he reached around her and picked up a stack of papers. His arm brushed hers.

Genevieve’s breath stalled in her throat. She hoped he hadn’t noticed how aware of him she was. It would be a good idea for her to step away. But would a strong, sensible, seasoned project manager do that just because a good-looking man was standing beside her? Of course not. With a great effort, she modulated her breathing. In. Out. Show no emotion. Try to look professional, Gen .

Thankfully, Lucas stepped aside quickly. He held the papers out to her. “Here’s the agenda, all that has to be accomplished during the next few weeks. I want you to avail yourself of whatever resources you need and if you need additional personnel let me know. You will, of course, have an expense account. Also, for the next few days, until you get acclimated, I’ll drop in from time to time and you can also update me on the way to and from work. Thereafter, I’ll provide you with a driver and we’ll meet at scheduled times for updates just as I do with my other employees and my other business. I’ll be available for any public events you set up. So. are there any questions or concerns? Things you want to talk about?”

Gen looked down at the list. It was long. She was to oversee Thomas and Jorge in the renovation and decoration of the house itself, and introduce herself and the project to the neighbors, possibly by hosting a neighborhood gathering. She was expected to locate sponsors for the women and donors for future projects, contact charities for prospective candidates to live at Angie’s House, establish links between local community colleges for classes and training sessions for the women, contact possible employers for those women who needed work, arrange for the open house, interview candidates and hire a director. In several places, he had noted that she could rely on him and on her own social contacts to smooth the way and drum up interest.

Did she have concerns? She had them in spades, although pulsating fears that turned her legs to jelly might be a better way to phrase it. This was beyond anything she had ever done for her parents and so much of it seemed to rely on using her family name. Genevieve wanted to close her eyes, to try and explain to Lucas just how little influence she had. Her parents had been the movers and shakers, while she had been an insignificant shadow in the background. And after Barry had spread all those ugly, damning and humiliating lies about her, no one was ever in this lifetime going to care what she had to say. About anything. But if she told Lucas that …

“I have to be honest, Lucas. I don’t think my name is going to have much influence. My parents were the ‘capital P’ Patchetts. That’s not me.”

He studied her, looking down at her shoes. “Genevieve, look at yourself. Look at that little patrician nose of yours, that perfect posture and those long, slender artist’s fingers. Listen to the way you enunciate your words. You may be living in less elegant surroundings right now, but you’re still a Patchett.” With that, he reached out and touched the silk of her blouse. His finger didn’t even make contact with her skin, but she felt as if it did. An awareness of him thrummed through her, sending warmth down her body in a rush. “You’re still a princess.”

With some effort, she raised her chin. “I’m sorry if I misled you, but I was never a princess.”

“I see. So … you don’t think you can do this?”

Genevieve swallowed hard. “I just don’t think that anyone who was wild about my parents is going to transfer that esteem to me.”

“No? Do me a favor. Do that thing you did yesterday when you suggested that I didn’t trust you. Give me that look of defiance. Raise your chin just a touch.”

Flustered, Genevieve tried to do as he asked, but she was too self-conscious. And she wasn’t angry at him.

Lucas frowned. “You can do better than that. You know what I need from you. But I’m going to have to let you go if you can’t do this job the way it needs to be done. I won’t want to, but I need someone who can produce and produce quickly. If you can’t do that, then I’m afraid you’re gone.” His voice dropped lower, the last words barely a whisper, but the steel in his tone was unmistakable. He would be ruthless if need be.

And like that, the desperation of her situation kicked in. Anger that she was failing and that yet another person was dismissing her overshadowed all of her fears. This time she didn’t just lift her chin. She threw her shoulders back the way she had been taught by a long-ago posture coach and she raised her head in what could only be called a regal gesture. “I won’t be gone,” she said and though her voice barely carried from her mouth to his ears, there was determination in her tone. “Don’t fire me,” she said. “Just … don’t.”