The Reluctant Cinderella by Christine Rimmer Page A

quiet. It was nice. Kind of easy and companionable. But exciting, too. At last, he asked, humor warming his deep voice, “You still there?”
    â€œYeah—and we should hang up, don’t you think? Try to get some sleep….”
    â€œI’m afraid to let you go. What if you change your mind?”
    â€œI won’t.”
    â€œSay that again.”
    Obediently, she vowed, “I promise. I’ll have dinner with you tomorrow. If I can find a babysitter.”
    â€œAll right, then. Good night, Megan.”
    â€œGood night.” She heard the click on the line and he was gone.
    She missed him already. How hopeless was that? She smiled to herself, a woman’s dreamy smile, as she finished her lukewarm milk.
    So what if Rhonda and Irene told tales about her,if Molly Jackson disapproved of her, if Carly told everyone what a terrible person she was? Megan was taking this chance with this special, terrific guy, no matter what anyone in the neighborhood said….
    Still, when she went back to bed, she found sleep impossible. Maybe because in the end, she really did care if everyone in the neighborhood hated her.

Chapter Eight
    T hrough the morning meetings and lunch in the conference room, both Megan and Greg took special care to keep things strictly professional. More than once, though, she glanced his way and found him glancing back and…
    Well, okay. For the first time in her life, Megan Schumacher was beginning to understand what all the shouting was about when it came to romance. Once she’d thought kind of wistfully that it might be nice to have a boyfriend, someone to go out with now and then, someone to take to holiday parties, someone to maybe get flowers from on Valentine’s Day.
    But this, with Greg—this whole heat thing, this warm-shivers-all-through-your-body thing, thisweak-in-the-knees thing, well, she just hadn’t known that romance could be like that.
    After lunch, there was one more long meeting, with the lawyers included. And finally, at three in the afternoon, the deal was signed. The lawyers, including the one representing Design Solutions, took their leave.
    Megan thanked her Web guy and Anita, the graphic artist she’d brought with her, and sent them both home. They’d worked their fannies off and deserved a head start on the weekend. She spent a few minutes wrapping up loose ends with the marketing people. By then, Greg was nowhere in sight.
    She headed for the elevator. There were, after all, hours to kill before dinnertime. She would call him later, find out where to meet him. In the meantime, she was thinking maybe she’d go on home, after all, see how the kids were doing with the babysitter she’d hired. At home, she could freshen up a little, too, put on something more right for evening.
    Her phone rang just as the elevator doors slid wide. She looked at the display as she was stepping into the car. Greg. With her heart doing flip-flops and a silly grin on her face, she answered, “What?”
    â€œI left you alone in that conference room for ten minutes—and you disappeared.”
    The door slid shut. She pushed the button for the lobby. “It’s hours until dinner. I thought I’d just go on home in the meantime.”
    â€œDon’t. Stay.”
    She giggled. She couldn’t help it. There was a guy in a gray suit in the car with her. He sent her a frown.What? He didn’t approve of giggling? She shrugged, turned toward the wall and spoke more softly. “Greg. I’ve got my briefcase and my laptop. I don’t want to carry them around with me.”
    â€œIt’s not a problem. You can stash them at my place.”
    â€œI’m in the elevator.”
    â€œDon’t go….”
    The car stopped. “I’m at the lobby.”
    â€œHave a seat on that marble bench by the security station,” Greg instructed as the doors slid wide again and the guy in the gray suit rushed