Trish Wylie - The Bachelor's Cinderella

“I’m going to do my best by all of you,” Etienne told the group. “And…um…no lying.”

Meg rolled her eyes.

“Don’t let them push you around,” she told him.

Now everyone looked shocked. Etienne couldn’t help it. One corner of his mouth lifted, even though he fought the urge.

“She’s giving him orders,” someone whispered.

“I’m just…Oh, never mind,” Meg said and she headed back toward the inner office where she and Etienne had been working yesterday. Etienne noticed that she was wearing a navyblue suit that fit her body, emphasizing the gentle sway of her hips as she moved.

Heat—and admiration for what she’d tried to do for him—filtered into his consciousness. He remembered how soft her lips had been and how her eyes had widened in shock when he’d kissed her. She had said nothing then, but today she’d found her voice again. Good.

“Meg’s quite a sassy one, isn’t she?” Etienne remarked half to himself. It seemed he liked sass.

“But very nice,” the old man in the corner said.

“I’ve noticed,” Etienne agreed.

The man looked mollified.

“Do you need anything special of us, Mr. Gavard?” Edie asked. “We know the company is in very bad shape. Mr. Fieldman wouldn’t have run if that weren’t the case, because he wanted this place badly enough to do whatever it took to get his mother to leave it to him.”

She frowned, and Etienne began to suspect just how deep the problem with Alan had gone. Besides the man’s general ignorance of good business, his blindness to his employees’ talents and his lack of common sense, Alan Fieldman must have done something to Meg beyond firing her. No wonder the man in the corner was concerned.

Etienne looked at Edie’s aging face and the fervent, anxious expression in her eyes. “I want you all to trust me. I know that’s asking a lot. This is your work, your identity, your livelihood. But I want you to know that I don’t take that lightly. My sole aim in coming here is to turn this place around.”

“To make it profitable,” Edie said.

“Yes.” Even though he had little interest in his own profit in this case. He didn’t really need the money. He needed the sanity and the peace of mind.

“If I don’t do that, I will have failed, and I don’t like failure. So, for now, what I want is for you to have faith, to keep doing your jobs as well as you can, to follow whatever instructions Meg and I give you and above all to squelch any rumors that Fieldman’s is failing. That can be disastrous in the business world. From this moment on, we’re on the path to success, and we want the world to know that.”

“So…we’re not failing?” an older woman asked. She was standing next to a desk that had a nameplate that read Marie. The nearly worshipful naked hope on Marie’s expression almost buckled Etienne’s knees. His life had nearly been ruined by people expecting too much of him, he had unwittingly but callously sacrificed his wife to the expectations of his family, his name and position, and here he was intentionally seeking out those who had no choice but to put their lives in his hands. So why did he choose to do this in his work?

Because I have to , he reminded himself. He had to be able to live with himself. A little, at least.

“From now on we’re a team, and this team is going to survive,” he told them. “I’ll need all of your help. I may be asking you to do things that haven’t been asked of you before. Legal things,” he said at the look of alarm in one man’s eyes. “But we’re cutting corners to make things profitable and we may all have to pitch in and do double duty at times when people are sick or have emergencies. No temporary workers to step in, no outsiders handling maintenance. This is all going to be…us. Our methods may be a bit unconventional, but from here on out you have a vested interest in making sure this company succeeds. If it does, it’s going to be yours someday. This will become an employee-owned company.”

A buzzing began through the room. One person stepped forward. “Does that mean we can fire you if we don’t like what you’re doing?”

Etienne did laugh then. “Not yet. Besides, you won’t have to fire me. When things are back in shape here, I’ll be gone. Until then, you’re going to be my prime concern, and I’ll expect complete cooperation. This isn’t going to be easy.”

“What about Meg?” someone asked. “Where will she be when we’re going full tilt again?”

Etienne didn’t know. For some reason that bothered him even though it shouldn’t. Meg was charming, but she was temporary, as was everyone in his life. Holding people at a distance was how he had maintained his sanity these past few years. “Meg will be wherever she wishes,” he said. But he couldn’t help wondering where that would be.

Meg bent over the desk beside Etienne. They were discussing changes to the line, how positions in the firm would have to be altered to accommodate the current financial situation and all the details of what they needed to do to bring life back to the business.

“I especially like this one,” he said, pointing to one of her ideas for a new line of sofas. “I’ve contacted a textile firm in the east that’s willing to cut their price if we give their firm prominent billing in our presentations and ads. As soon as we have some mockups and photos, we’re going to schedule you with the photographer and visit some trade fairs. We’ll speak to the local press.”

Meg froze. Her heart began to thud wildly. She looked directly into his eyes. He gazed back at her, reached out and tilted her chin up gently.

“I once knew a woman who was totally dependent on a man for her identity and for her…everything. That won’t be you. You’ll have no need of a man if you don’t want one, because you’ll have you. You’ll have this,” he said, gesturing toward the room. “I can help you get from here to there. I want to. Let me.”

His voice was like a caress. Meg almost felt herself sway toward him, but that would be a mistake, one neither of them wanted.

She nodded. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I made the rounds and have started to draft some revised job descriptions so we can take up the slack in areas where we’ve been lacking due to letting our outside services go.”

“Good. But I want everyone to know that they’ll be paid extra,” Etienne said. “I’m not a poor man and I’ve set aside funds for the restructuring of Fieldman’s.”

“Thank you. Some of them have been here most of their careers. This is a second home for them.” And for some like me, she thought, it was more than a home. It was a haven. Or at least it had been, before the incident with Alan.

“They love you,” he said simply, and she glanced up into his eyes.

“They know me.”

“It’s more than that.”

Meg shrugged. “I tend to get a little territorial and protective about people I care about. They know that.”

“Sounds like they reciprocate. Some of them are very concerned about how I’m going to treat you.”

She took a deep breath and reached for a jar that held pencils. Cupping her hands around it she pondered how much she wanted to divulge.

“I’ll talk to them about that,” she said. “They shouldn’t be speaking to you that way.”

He reached out and placed his hand on her arm. Sensation shot through her, awareness of the man beside her nearly overwhelmed her, warmth and something more made her feel flushed and awkward and needy and…

She lost her grip on the cup, and pens and pencils tumbled out, rolling off the desk.

She lurched to grab them, but Etienne’s grip was gentle but firm. “Leave them, Meg. And…don’t speak to the others about how you want them to treat me. I have to form my own relationship with them. I’m capable of doing that. What I’m not capable of is reading minds. I think I need to know more of what happened here before you left. As it is, I seem to be the only one in the dark.”