Meet Mr. Prince (2 page)

Well, I'm not, either.
No one was going to talk her into doing anything she didn't want to do—absolutely no one.

 

Zachary Prince was ready for the weekend to begin. Although he really liked his job, today he was tired of being cooped up in the office, tired of all the problems associated with too much work and too few people to
do it since his assistant had quit, and he just wanted to go home and spend time with his children.

He often felt guilty because he didn't need to work. He could stay home and be with the kids full-time. After all, he didn't need the money. He and his twin sister, Sabrina, had inherited a stock portfolio worth many millions from their grandfather, McKinley. But Zach liked his work as director of the New York office of the Hunt Foundation. And he was wise enough to know that as much as he loved his children, he would go crazy at home all day, especially now that his two oldest, Katie and Jeremy, were in school.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he jumped when his phone buzzed. The CID showed Alex Hunt's name.

“Hey, Alex.”

“Hey, Zach. I've got some good news for you. I think I'll be able to send some help your way.”

“Really? Who? Anybody I know?”

“She works for me, but you haven't met her because she's been in the field the past year and a half. Her name is Georgianna Fairchild.”

Fairchild. Weren't the Fairchilds close friends of the Hunts? And weren't some of them on the HuntCom board? No matter how badly Zach needed help in the New York office, he didn't think having a friend of the Hunt family there was a great idea. But before he could think of a tactful way to say so, Alex continued talking.

“In addition to her experience in the field, Georgie's a whiz at research. She can take over that part of the work easily…and anything else you want her to do. You can trust her, Zach. She's totally dependable…and she's got good judgment. I think she'll be a real asset to you.”

Because he couldn't think of any other rejoinder,
Zach just said, “She does sound good. Um, when is she coming?”

“I haven't discussed this with her yet, so I don't want to commit until I do. We're having lunch tomorrow and we'll talk about it. I need her here at least another week, and since this will be different from the kinds of assignments she's had in the past, in that she'll be staying in New York until we can find a permanent assistant for you, she may need more time after that to make arrangements. For now, let's say she'll be there by the fifteenth of next month.”

Zach listened as Alex continued to extol the virtues of Georgie Fairchild, but despite her vaunted capabilities, Zach had a bad feeling about this. No matter what Alex said, Zach didn't think having a Hunt family friend on staff was a good idea. What if they didn't like each other? What if she were one of those strong-willed women who thought she knew everything and didn't take orders well?

After they hung up, Zach sat there, staring into space and thinking. And the more he thought, the more uneasy he felt. Was it possible that Alex was sending this Fairchild woman to New York to spy on him?

Maybe Alex was unhappy with the way things were going in New York. Maybe he'd decided he'd made a mistake when he'd hired Zach, especially considering the special deal Zach had negotiated. Maybe he didn't think Zach was carrying his weight. But hell, if that were the case, why didn't Alex just say so? Zach had always believed Alex was a straight shooter, that he'd never do anything underhanded.

But maybe Zach had been wrong.

He guessed only time would tell.

Time, and this Georgie Fairchild.

G
eorgie always loved lunching with Alex. It used to be the highlight of her week during the brief period she'd worked in downtown Seattle. Lord, she'd hated that first job at the ad agency. Why she'd taken it, she still couldn't fathom. But it had served its purpose because she'd quickly realized she wasn't cut out for the business world and she'd gone back to school and gotten her master's in sociology.

Once she had that degree in hand, she'd gone to work for a large women's hospital. Idealistic when she began, four years later she was burned out. One day she'd admitted to Alex that her job had become depressing and that most days she felt she was spinning her wheels and getting nowhere.

“My hands are tied by lack of money and facilities,” she'd said, “And it's getting worse all the time. Besides, I really want to work with kids. I may not think I'd make a
good mother, but I still prefer being around kids to being around most adults. Kids are honest, and they appreciate everything you do for them. I want to do something that makes me feel as if I'm really making a difference.”

“Then,” Alex had said, “it's time for you to come to work for the foundation.”

Georgie couldn't believe how much she loved the work she did now. Her job satisfied every part of her. She felt she'd finally found her niche in life. She loved the travel, she loved learning about different peoples and their culture, she loved the children she met and helped and she didn't even mind the fundraising because she was asking for money for a cause she believed in passionately. But most of all, she loved that she
was
making a difference. Everything about her work was rewarding.

Of course, there was still the problem of money. Trouble is, there was never enough money for all the things that needed doing. But that was minor compared to the way she'd felt before coming to work at the foundation.

So today, in addition to the pleasure of spending some private time with Alex—they hadn't seen much of each other since she'd been home, even though she'd been working at the foundation office while waiting to go back into the field—she also had a new assignment to look forward to. She could hardly wait to find out where it would be. Haiti? Indonesia? Ethiopia?

They were lunching at Wild Ginger, one of her favorite places to eat in Seattle. When Georgie arrived, Alex was already there and had secured a window table, a feat in itself at the popular restaurant. Georgie couldn't help smiling as she approached the table. Alex stood to give her a kiss on the cheek, and once again, she thought how
handsome he was. Tall and slender, with dark hair and dark brown eyes, he was a man who attracted admiring looks wherever he went. And when he smiled! Well, even Georgie wasn't immune to those dimples. But Alex was well and truly taken, and even if he hadn't been, he was too much like real family, almost the brother she'd never had.

“You're looking mighty sharp today,” he said once she was settled across from him.

Georgie grinned. Alex knew she would have scoffed if he'd said “pretty” because she wasn't pretty, and she knew it. The term
pretty
was for cute little cheerleader types, not for five-ten Amazons. “Sharp as in brilliant, or sharp as in chic?”

He laughed. “I'm pretty sure the safest answer is ‘both.'”

She grinned. “I can see
you're
as sharp as ever, too.”

They continued the lighthearted banter while they studied the menu. Georgie finally tossed her menu aside. There was really no point in looking at it. She always ordered the same thing: the pot stickers—their pot stickers were to die for—and the Spice Trader's Beef. Alex was more adventurous and always tried something different. Today his choices were the Buddha Roll and the Nonya Noodles.

That settled, Georgie finally asked the question she'd been dying to ask. “Well? Don't keep me in suspense. Have you finally got another field assignment for me?”

“What? We're not keeping you busy enough at the office?”

“Alex…”

“Haven't you enjoyed being around for your sister's wedding and all the holiday stuff?”

She rolled her eyes. “Alex, stop teasing me.”

His smile said he was pleased with himself. “You'll be going somewhere very different from past assignments.”

“Really? That sounds intriguing. Where?”

Alex waited a heartbeat, then said, “New York.”

Georgie's smile faded. “New York? You mean…New York City?”

“Yes, our New York office.”

“But…why?” Georgie told herself not to get upset.

“Because Zachary Prince, the director of the New York office, is in a bind right now. His assistant quit a month ago and we've had no luck replacing him. We've had a lot of candidates, but no one qualified or experienced enough to be a real asset. I don't want to hire someone just to hire someone. What we do out of New York is too important. That's why I thought of you.”

“But, Alex, that's not what I do, I don't work in an
office,
and I don't want to waste—”

He held up his hand. “Wait. Hear me out before you say you don't want the assignment.”

Georgie made a face.

“This is only temporary, Georgie. Just until we can find a permanent replacement. Both Zach and I intend to keep looking, but in the meantime—as soon as you can wind things up here—you're perfect for the job. You don't need any training, and you can be an immediate help to Zach, which is a huge plus. And just because you're working out of the office doesn't mean you won't go into the field. In fact, being Zach's assistant means you'll get plenty of chances to look into possible beneficiaries of the Hunt Foundation—the only
difference being that those beneficiaries will mostly be in the eastern part of the U.S. Wouldn't you like to go to Appalachia?”

“Well, of course, I'd like to go to Appalachia, but—”

“But what?”

“I like doing evaluations. That's what I'm good at.”

“I know that. It's one of the big reasons you're so perfect for this job. Zach tells me the pile of requests for assistance is stacking up faster than they can look at them.”

“You're saying I'll still get to do the evaluations and make recommendations?” Georgie knew she sounded skeptical. Shoot, she
was
skeptical. In her experience, assistants didn't get the interesting jobs. They got the jobs the directors didn't want to do themselves, probably involving tons of paperwork, which Georgie despised. Suddenly a new thought struck her. “Did my mother put you up to this?”

“Put me up to what?”

“Sending me to New York.”

“Georgie, come on…don't be paranoid.”

“I'm not being paranoid. I know my mother. If she had gotten even an inkling about what happened in Burundi, I know she'd have been on the phone to you in an instant.”

“I haven't talked to your mother. She knows nothing about this assignment.”

“You're sure.” But even as she said it, she could see from Alex's expression that he was telling her the truth.

She sank back in her chair, her shoulders slumping.

“Come on, Georgie. Cheer up. This assignment is going to be good for you. Good for all of us.” When she
didn't answer, Alex added softly, “Have I ever steered you wrong?”

It killed her to say it, but she finally said, “No.”

Alex started to say something else but quit because their waiter had brought their food. When he left them alone again, Georgie sighed and said, “You're sure this assignment is only temporary?”

Alex raised his right hand. “I swear, this is absolutely temporary. And the more you can do to relieve Zach, the more time he'll have to find a replacement for you.” Then came the kicker. “If you do this for me, Georgie, I'll owe you.”

Georgie wished she could say no. She knew if she adamantly refused to go to New York, Alex wouldn't force her. But how could she? Alex was her boss and her friend. He'd never before asked for a favor. And she owed him big time, even though he was too nice to remind her of that fact.

“Oh, all right, Alex. You win.” She picked up her chopsticks. “How soon do you want me to be there?”

 

Cornelia's cell phone vibrated from the depths of her handbag as she walked toward the south entrance of Nordstrom. She managed to find the phone before the call went to voice mail and saw from the display that it was Harry calling. She felt like ignoring the call, but a mixture of curiosity and the certain knowledge that Harry Hunt, accustomed as he was to people leaping when he said, “Jump,” would just keep trying until she answered trumped her desire to continue making a statement by avoiding him.

Sighing, she pressed the talk icon. “Hello, Harry.”

“Corny, I'm glad I caught you.”

“Yes, well, I'm just on my way into Nordstrom.” She kept her voice deliberately cool.

“Then I won't keep you long. I just wondered if my favorite gal in the entire world would do me the honor of accompanying me to a dinner next Saturday night.”

Cornelia could have said a lot of things in response to his “favorite gal” comment, but she decided it was wiser not to. Why open that can of worms? Especially when nothing ever changed. “What kind of dinner?” she hedged.

“Oh, I'm getting some award from the Software Society of America. The dinner's being held at the Fairmont, and you know how I hate these black-tie things. But it'd be bearable if you'd come with me.” He chuckled. “Make that rubber chicken go down a lot easier.”

I should say no. I should say I'm tired of being an also-ran with you. I should say go find yourself another one of your models or actresses to take. I should say I already have a date
.

But she didn't think Harry knew about her fledgling relationship with Greg Berger, the golf pro at the club, and Cornelia wasn't sure she wanted him to know. She could just imagine what he'd have to say about her dating a much younger man. Of course, every single one of Harry's four wives had been considerably younger than
him.
But that was different, wasn't it? Cornelia gritted her teeth. Just thinking about Harry's former wives and the double standard about age stiffened her resolve. “I don't think I can, Harry.”

“Don't
think
you can?”

“I believe I have another engagement.” Despite everything, she couldn't bring herself to outright lie to him. “I'll have to check my calendar after I get home.”

“If you have another engagement, break it. I really want you to be with me at that dinner, Corny.”

“I—”
Where's your backbone? Just say no.

“Please, Corny. I haven't seen nearly enough of you lately.”

“And whose fault is that?” she retorted before she could stop herself.

“I realize it
is
my fault, but I'm trying to rectify that. C'mon, say you'll go. I really want to see you.”

Cornelia could feel herself weakening, and it infuriated her. Why did she find it so hard to refuse him? He was entirely too sure of himself. Break it, indeed! And yet, despite all this, she sighed and said, “Oh, all right, Harry. I'll go with you.”

“That's my girl. We'll pick you up at seven.”

Cornelia shook her head as she disconnected the call. She was spineless. Yet she couldn't help remembering a night long ago when she had said no to Harry. And who knows how different all their lives might have been if she'd said yes instead.

We were too young, and I was afraid. And when I was finally ready to say yes, it was too late. He'd moved on with wife number one, and then George and I fell in love. After that, all of our lives continued in different directions from the way I'd first imagined they'd go
.

She was so lost in the memory of that fateful night when she was only seventeen, a memory she rarely indulged, that she very nearly ran into a young mother exiting Nordstrom while juggling a toddler, a big black umbrella and several packages.

“Sorry,” Cornelia apologized, holding the door open for her.

“No problem,” the harried young woman said.

No problem, Cornelia thought, ducking inside to
avoid having to open her own umbrella, for it had just begun to rain. The young woman was right. Some things weren't worth getting rattled over.

I must stop thinking about the past. What happened, happened. And despite Harry's cluelessness and Georgie's stubbornness and my occasional aches and pains, I have no real problems. My life turned out the way it was supposed to turn out
.

Her momentary twinge of nostalgia and regret evaporated as she walked briskly into the store.

 

“Daddeeeee!”

Zach grinned as Emma, his three-year-old, raced down the hall and launched herself at him as he entered their spacious eleventh-floor apartment near Lincoln Center. Was there any feeling as wonderful as this? he thought as he lifted her up and she twined her dimpled arms around his neck.

“Hello, sweetness,” he murmured.

“Mr. Prince. You're home early.” This observation came from Fanny, his fifty-something housekeeper, who had followed Emma into the foyer.

Zach kissed his daughter, relishing the sweet, little-girl smell and the softness of her skin. “I decided everything on my desk could wait till Monday.”

It had taken nearly two years for him to stop dreading that first few minutes after arriving home, minutes in which the awareness of Jenny's absence would strike him yet again, minutes when he'd thought the hollow ache in the vicinity of his heart would never go away. But he was finally adjusting to the fact that she was gone, that cancer had taken his beloved wife at a too-young age and he had been left to raise their three children alone.

He knew he would always treasure the memory of Jenny and he would always miss her, but now he also knew he was going to be okay, because he was finally beginning to think about the future instead of constantly mourning the past.