Trish Wylie - The Bachelor's Cinderella - The Frenchman's Plain-Jane Project

What was the next step?

Touch her, taste her. The thought leaped right in there. Meg Leighton was doing serious damage to his sanity. He wanted what Alan had thrown away. If he had needed any more proof that Alan had been a fool, that was it. Alan had walked away from the woman who made Etienne break out in night sweats.

What had she done, Meg wondered a few hours later. Paula Avery was young, blond, curvy and petite. A total cutie pie. The woman Alan Fieldman had chosen when he had gone looking for a hot, attractive, intelligent woman. The woman he had thrown Meg over for.

And Paula would be right there in front of Etienne every day of the week. He said he didn’t want a woman, couldn’t have one, but there was no way a man like Etienne was celibate. His kisses were too hot and demanding. He was most definitely a man who enjoyed women. And Meg had just hired a tasty dessert of a single woman who would be in the office every day.

Maybe she was doing it to punish herself for wanting him. “And maybe the stress of constantly striving to do better, to be better, to be different is starting to get to me,” she muttered to herself.

Still, one thing was certain. Etienne had said he would leave. Other women had surely tried to get him to stay, and all of them had failed.

So, please, get Etienne out of your thoughts, she told herself. Don’t even dare to remember his kisses.

But she woke in the middle of the night, remembering. She was going to have to do more to bring this relationship back into the realm of business partners and friends.

What could she do?

Something drastic.

“WHAT are you doing, Meg?” Etienne asked the next day.

Meg looked up at him. He was eyeing the green canvas bag she was carrying with curiosity.

“I’m planning something,” she said, not hesitating lest she lose her nerve. “The thing is that everyone has been a bit stressed lately. With the way things are taking off with Fieldman’s, it’s kind of like watching an airplane trying to take off over a mountain range. You hope it will make it, but you’re not completely sure that it can clear the upper peaks.”

He grinned.

“Okay, I know why you’re looking at me like that. The mountain analogy didn’t quite cut it, but what I’m saying is still true in its own way, isn’t it?”

“ Absolument ,Meg. C’est vrai. Of course. You’re right.”

Meg’s breathing kicked up and she wanted to groan. She hated when he spoke French even though he was always careful to translate for her. No, that was so wrong. She totally loved it when he spoke French, but it made her shake and burn inside so much that it scared her. French should be illegal or it should at least come with a warning label.

“But I still don’t understand,” he said, nodding toward the bag.

“It’s simple,” she explained, dropping her bag of objects with a clatter. “Everyone is tense. We’re beginning to snap at each other.”

“I haven’t heard you snapping at anyone.”

She blushed. Okay, she was lying just a little. And she might even lie a little more. “On the inside I was snapping,” she explained, and she quickly raised one hand. “Do not , under any circumstances, raise that eyebrow.”

So, he didn’t. He grinned, with those darn dimples that made her shiver.

“All right, Meg. What were you snapping about on the inside ?”

She thought. Long. Hard. Trying to come up with a plausible answer. “I can’t think of what it was right now, but there was something, and anyway, the whys and wherefores are beside the point. The point is that we’re all under a lot of pressure. The expo is coming up in just two weeks and we need some way to let off steam. Hence, this.”

She gestured toward the canvas bag she had been carrying.

“I see,” he said. “And what is this ?”

Meg pulled out a bat. “We’re going to do something to help us get back to bonding and away from snapping. Something we can all do together as…as friends, but also as business partners. I understand that lots of businesses have teams of one sort or another and since there’s a big field right outside our door, I thought that tomorrow at lunchtime, we could have a very short game of…of baseball.”

“Of course. Do you play a lot of baseball, Meg?”

“Not a lot, no.” In fact she had been horrible at all sports in school, but at least she knew the basics of baseball. And the equipment was simple, the field was there and she’d heard Jeff and some of the other men discussing the sport. This could be a good thing. It could take some of the edge she’d been feeling around Etienne off and bring her thoughts back to mere friendship. She hoped. “I thought you might captain one team and I would captain the other. I checked on the Internet and I know this isn’t a very popular game in France but they do play it, don’t they? There were eight major league baseball players in America who were born there, although…not for a while and not all even in the twentieth century. I would have chosen something else, like soccer…I mean your football…except I thought it would be best to have a low contact sport so that everyone could feel comfortable and not self-conscious. Not much touching in baseball, is there?” Oh, would someone please shut her up already?

“Except for the tagging part,” he said. “That would be touching.”

“But the baseball glove or at least having to have a ball in your hand when you tag a person would make it okay,” she reasoned. “I was hoping this might be fun.” Did she really sound wistful, hopeful, nervous? This had seemed like such a good idea when she’d thought of it, but now…She was terrible at sports. She’d been doing so well here, otherwise. This wasn’t a good idea at all, was it?

“It’s an excellent idea,” Etienne said as if he’d been reading her mind. “And yes, people are getting a little tense. Let’s do it.”

“All right, I’ll announce it today. That way everyone can bring casual clothes. Shall we shorten the game to either three innings or an hour, whichever comes first?” She was beginning to feel better now. Organization was something she understood. Meg smiled and started to leave the room to make the announcement over the intercom.

“Meg, it is a great idea. And I think this might help with Paula, too.”

She didn’t even ask what he meant. No matter how much Meg had asked the people at Fieldman’s to try and accept Paula, the woman was having a rough time of it. “I know. I think people are afraid that if they show her any kindness that they’ll be disloyal to me.”

“I can understand why they feel that way.”

“I know. They think she hurt me and that I might still be hurting. I’ll be putting her on my team to try to dispel that notion, if that’s okay with you.”

And Meg realized that while she wasn’t heartbroken over Alan anymore, Paula did make her nervous in one very unacceptable way. Paula’s eyes followed Etienne everywhere. She clearly had a crush…or more, and Paula was just as cute and tiny and as much of a showstopper as she had been before. Meg hated that she even noticed that. Jealousy was not in her plans. She had no right to notice anything that went on between Etienne and Paula, so yes, Paula was going to be on her team, and she and Paula were going to work together.

“She’s yours,” Etienne said. “And Meg?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. I’ve never played baseball before, but I have a feeling that this is going to be an unforgettable experience.”

Meg had the feeling that it was, too. Had she really thought this through? Of course not, but heck, she had set it up and now she was going through with it. And she was going to make sure that Etienne enjoyed his first experience with baseball.