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

Jorge elbowed Thomas in the stomach. “Thomas, Ms. Patchett is our boss. Show some respect. Forgive my brother, Ms. Patchett. This is his first job.”

To Lucas’s surprise, Genevieve laughed. “There’s nothing to forgive, Jorge. This is my—”

Uh-oh, the princess was going to tell Thomas and Jorge this was her first job, wasn’t she? That would be a mistake.

Lucas coughed and glowered at her.

Her eyes widened and she looked at him. A flush climbed from the neck of his shirt to her cheeks. She turned back to Jorge. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Jorge. And Thomas, thank you so much for the compliment. I’m wet and dirty and I appreciate your efforts to make me feel better about that. I look forward to working with both of you.” Wiping her palm on her pants, she held out her hand. The pink polish that had graced her nails this morning was chipped and her nails were ragged, but Thomas took her hand and bowed over it as if she were royalty. Jorge gave her a big smile and did the same.

Lucas had met the men before. He’d hired them, and Jorge had worked on a previous job. Now he said hello. and waited for his project manager to make the next move. When she said nothing, he glanced her way.

Genevieve stared him directly in the eyes, that pink glow growing rosier. Then she raised her chin and cleared her throat. “Lucas and I have been concentrating on cleaning the living room and entranceway. Thomas, why don’t you work on the kitchen, and Jorge, take the family room. Let me know if you have any questions or concerns.”

“I have a question. Will there be plaster work required? I have some experience in that area, but Thomas has none. If there’s a lot of it to handle, we might need help.”

A brief look of panic sprang into Genevieve’s eyes. Lucas inwardly cursed, then opened his mouth to bail her out. But she was shaking her head. “I’m not sure yet. Let me get back to you on that. For now, let’s just concentrate on getting rid of all the dirt.”

The two men nodded, then wandered off. When they had gone, Lucas turned to her. “Good save.”

She stared up at him with big eyes. “It was all I could think of. I don’t know anything about plaster work.”

“You know what a smooth wall looks like. Jorge knows enough to handle any problem areas. There are a few but not much. I’ll take you on a tour. We’ll discuss what basic repair needs to be done. I should have done that already.” Except a part of him had needed to see how “the debutante” handled the tough, dirty stuff. To his surprise, she was handling it. Not with any finesse, but with determination.

“Let’s go,” he said.

He led her through the rooms, pointing out problem areas, the general plan for cleanup, repair and renovation and the big picture. “When we’re done, each woman will need her own private space but there needs to be plenty of flow and room for interaction. This is a house, but it will also be a community, hopefully a family. The space needs to reflect that.”

Genevieve didn’t say much, but she listened. She nodded. “And I’ll be overseeing all of this.”

Her voice sounded slightly faint.

Lucas frowned. “I’ll work with you closely, but I have a business to run, other irons in the fire. This will largely be your project.” Except he would personally see to it that the deadline didn’t fall through. The deadline was that important.

“All right. I see.” Genevieve gave a tight nod. They turned down a hallway, not speaking, their steps silent on the carpeting.

The slosh of water sounded in a nearby room. “I don’t know. Ms. Patchett is very nice, but … not experienced,” Jorge was saying. “I hope she knows what she’s doing and doesn’t lead us into any mistakes. I don’t want to lose this job.”

“She’s very pretty. Do you think she and Mr. McDowell …?” Thomas’s voice trailed off.

“Idiot. No,” Jorge said. “I’ve worked with Mr. McDowell before. He doesn’t mix business and pleasure. Besides, she’s too … I don’t know … too innocent for him. Not his type.” He stopped. “We shouldn’t be talking like this. They might hear. We might get fired. And anyway, it’s wrong.”

Genevieve had stopped in her tracks. She looked up at Lucas, embarrassment written across every feature. Suddenly, she grabbed his hand and pulled him silently back down the hall. Then, cheeks blazing, she took a deep breath. “How long do you think the repair and renovation of this place should take?” she asked loudly. Too loudly. Loud enough for the other men to hear. Clearly, she didn’t want Thomas and Jorge to know what she had overheard.

“Everything has to be done in six weeks. After that, we invite the world in, invite the tenants, and I leave town. Can you handle that?” he asked, playing along.

She took a deep, visible breath. “I can handle anything, Mr. McDowell.” Her voice shook slightly, but it came out loud enough to carry.

They continued down the hall past the room where Thomas and Jorge were working. “I lied. I’d like to pretend that I know exactly what I’m doing, but I think it’s clear that I’m learning. But I’ll tell you this much, Lucas. Truthfully. Totally truthfully. I may not be able to handle everything yet, but I don’t intend to slack off or slow down or disappoint you if I can help it. I intend to do my best at this job.”

A nicer man would have assured her that that was enough. He had never been a nice man. “I intend to see that you do,” he said. He hoped she would be able to produce the results that he needed. If everything worked out as planned, Genevieve would be his glowing gateway to the people he needed to reach.

But, by the end of the day, she wasn’t glowing. Instead, she was wet, dirty and drooping. Strands of her bright hair had come loose from her tight ponytail and there was a scrape on her cheek. She looked as if she might drop to the ground at any minute.

“I’ll take you home,” he said. “Congratulations. You survived your first day.” But he wondered whether she would be back for a second day or if she would choose to slink away, to decide that this was no life for a debutante.

Still, when he pulled up to her apartment, the sight of her crumbling and dangerous neighborhood reminded him that she had left debutante status behind. And he wasn’t buying her declaration that she would never marry for money. Too long in a place like this and a woman—or a man—might do anything to get out. He knew about that kind of thing. Far too well, he thought with a grimace. Genevieve could get hurt. She shouldn’t be living here .

The thought caught him by surprise. He never allowed his interactions with employees to get personal, but then this project was personal, the repayment of a long overdue debt. Finishing it would close a chapter in his life he never wanted to look back on again and tie up loose ends he couldn’t control. Then, he could concentrate on a future he could control, one with zero emotional risks. Just the way he liked things.

“Thank you for the ride,” Genevieve said, reaching for the door, clearly uncomfortable. Probably not used to silent brooding bosses frowning at her.

“You don’t … fit in a place like this,” he said, stopping her and further surprising and angering himself.

To his amazement, she laughed, a light, bell-like sound. “I fit,” she said. “We’re all misfits here. I’m just not the norm.”

Then she sprinted for her building, paying no attention to her surroundings, her purse flopping against her hip.

Darn it! But then, he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised at her carelessness. A princess like her would have been used to leaving everything, including her security, to others.