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

After all, what could really go wrong?

Etienne’s team was in danger of losing, not because he didn’t get the game. It was fairly simple, after all. And not because he was so inept. He’d discovered that he had a natural aptitude for hitting the ball with the bat, pitching and catching.

No, the problem was that he was worried about Meg. She seemed so determined to make sure that everyone had a good time, especially him, that she was running herself ragged. And also…she was just so very cute in her blue jeans and red T-shirt, with her inability to do anything that remotely resembled playing the game. She couldn’t hit, throw or catch, but she was still making such a valiant effort that it was all but impossible not to want her to win.

He could tell that he wasn’t the only one, either. Jeff was pitching now and while he was doing his best to give Meg easy pitches, she wasn’t getting anywhere near the ball when she swung. Etienne looked at Jeff and the man seemed to be perspiring heavily.

“Jeff, don’t look so worried. This is just a game,” Meg said, propping her bat on the ground. But Etienne knew that Jeff didn’t have any fear that Meg would fire him. She was the only person who hadn’t managed to make contact with the ball today and the man just wanted it for her so badly.

“Now,” Etienne said, hoping that his low tone would carry to Jeff but not to Meg.

Apparently it worked. “Are you sure, Meg?” Jeff asked, but as he did, he threw the ball…straight toward her now stationary bat. It hit the wood and bounced back slightly into the field. A fair, playable ball.

“Run, Ms. Leighton!” Paula screeched.

Meg’s eyes went wide. No one dove for the ball even though Lily, the catcher, could have easily reached it.

Meg glanced at her bat, at the ball, at the bat. She ran. Fast. Around first base, around second, nearing third as her team members jumped up and down and yelled and as the members of Etienne’s team smiled and didn’t do much of anything. But Etienne knew this deal wasn’t completed yet. If Lily didn’t go for the ball soon, Meg would be coming around third base and heading toward home plate with the ball lying not three feet away, right where it had fallen when it thudded off the bat. And while Jeff might have managed to surprise Meg with that hit, and while she hadn’t yet noticed the op-position’s inactivity, she was a highly intelligent woman. Eventually she would figure it out if no one made any effort at all. And Meg was not the kind of woman you let win. She would take it personally.

But what to do? Lily could still pick it up but Etienne wasn’t sure that she would without some coaxing. As for him, he was playing short stop, not that close to the home plate. Still, he sprinted toward the base. Not too fast since he didn’t want to beat her there, but not so slow that she would suspect.

As he moved, he looked at Meg. She was running, running, her pretty hair flying out behind her. Etienne was approaching the ball, but at this pace Meg would make it over the plate first. He could tag her just after the fact just as he wanted to and she would have scored for her team. He took his time when he scooped up the ball.

But Lily was standing near the plate, yelling Meg on and encouraging her. Suddenly Meg, fearing she would hit Lily, veered aside. She collided with Etienne, a bundle of soft skin and hair and elbows, one of which caught him in the side. Caught totally off guard, he took the hit full force and winced. Then, seeing she was falling down, he ignored his pain and reached for her. Too late. He missed. Meg fell to the ground, her body sliding on the dirt.

Etienne swore, in French, in English, even in Spanish.

“Meg! Ma chère , are you hurt?” Immediately he dropped to his knees and started examining her, running his hands over her. Her leg was bent slightly crooked and he couldn’t tell if anything was broken or damaged. “Meg, talk to me. Say something. Say anything, all right?”

She gazed up into his eyes, blinking. “I…I ran into you. I didn’t see you. Did I hurt you?”

Etienne closed his eyes. He let out a breath of relief. Then he opened his eyes and gazed down at her. He smiled. “Never.”

Now her eyes were starting to clear. She was focusing. “Then…did I make it?”

No, she hadn’t. Her arm was over her head, but the base was half an inch beyond, and he had touched her while holding the ball. By now he knew the rules of the game and that meant that she was out and hadn’t scored for her team. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Paula and Lily exchange a look.

Then Paula suddenly rushed forward and fell to her knees. “I…Years ago I started nursing school and I’ve had CPR training. Now I know that you think you feel all right, Ms. Leighton, but it just never hurts to make sure. Let me ask you a few questions just to be on the safe side. How many fingers am I holding up? What’s your name? And what day is it?”

As she spoke, Etienne saw Lily stick her foot out and give a tiny kick.

“You seem okay,” Paula said, “but that certainly gave me a scare. You could have hit your head.”

When Paula rose and moved out of his way, Etienne saw that Meg’s hand was now resting on the plate. He resisted the urge to smile.

“You made it,” he whispered.

Meg suddenly sat up on her elbows and turned slightly, looking at the plate. When she turned back, there was a funny, crooked grin on her face. “Nice,” she said.

And then she stared straight into his eyes. He was still kneeling beside her. One hand was still on her right leg. Both of them looked down to where their bodies were joined, and now it became something more than him trying to make sure she wasn’t injured. The palm of his hand felt…warm. When she looked at him, her eyes looked languorous.

Someone—maybe Jeff—coughed, and Etienne slowly withdrew his hand. He helped Meg to her feet.

“I think game time is over,” she said. “But it’s been fun.”

“You don’t mean that.”

She smiled, a smile that Etienne felt down to the soles of his shoes. “Yes, I do. I’ve always hated sports, but not today. I loved every minute.”

“But, Meg,” Edie said. “You can’t give up now. Your team is still behind by one run.”

Meg looked at Paula. “It’s okay, isn’t it?” She turned to the other members of her team, who seemed uncertain what to do. “It’s not so much that we want to win,” one of them said. “We just want you to win. No disrespect to you, Mr. Gavard.”

“None taken,” he said.

Meg’s smile grew. “But I’m happy. I did win. In my own way, I did.”

“Yeah,” Paula said. “She made a run. That’s winning.”

And everyone took up the cry. Meg looked over her shoulder at Etienne. “Thank you,” she said.

“For what?”

Meg shrugged. “You’d never even played baseball, but you went along with this impetuous plan of mine.”

“I told you it was a great plan.” And it had been. She had been right. There had been some sniping and tension during the past week, but here on this field where everyone wanted Meg to have her day in the sun, they had all joined together. Even Paula seemed to be taken into the fold.

“You are a man of many talents,” Meg told him before joining Paula and Edie.

“I want you to know that I see how it is,” he heard Paula saying. “And I wouldn’t ever do anything that idiotic and cruel again. Not with you, that’s for sure. He’s yours free and clear.”

And, even though they were farther away now, Etienne was almost certain that she heard Meg say. “Not mine.”

He stared down at the baseball in his hand. Then he dropped it to the ground with a frown.

“Hey, at least we won,” Jeff said.