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Meet Mr. Prince
Patricia Kay
Once A Cowboy …
Patricia Thayer
Dear Reader,
I love Cinderella stories, don’t you? From the original story of Cinderella to all the ones that have come after it, they never fail to make me feel good and to put a smile on my face.
Meet Mr. Prince is a Cinderella story, even though Georgie Fairchild is the opposite of the unloved stepsister. Georgie has a fabulous family that includes three beloved sisters, a wonderful job that she loves and a life she considers perfect. She is not looking for Prince Charming. Yet when he comes along, all of Georgie’s ideas are turned upside down and her life changes dramatically.
I had a wonderful time writing this book because I loved Georgie from page one. I loved that she’s so stubborn and sure of herself, that she is so adamant about not wanting to get married or have children. Nothing is more fun than knowing a character is going to have to eat her words.
I hope you enjoy reading Georgie’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Happy reading!
Patricia Kay
Meet Mr. Prince
About the Author
PATRICIA KAY is a USA TODAY bestselling author of more than forty-eight novels of contemporary romance and women’s fiction. She lives in Houston, Texas. To learn more about her, visit her website at www.patriciakay.com.
This book is dedicated to fellow authors Lois Faye Dyer, Christine Flynn and Allison Leigh. I have loved working with the three of you on this series and look forward to our next adventure together.
Chapter One
Georgianna Hunt Fairchild glared at her mother. “I can’t believe you said that.”
Cornelia Fairchild, as always, remained unruffled. “Darling Georgie. What I can’t believe is that I’ve somehow managed to upset you.”
“I’m not upset. I’m just tired of people trying to interfere in my personal life.”
“People? I’m hardly people.”
Georgie rolled her eyes. “When you start trying to fix me up with every Tom, Dick and Rupert out there, you’ve joined the ranks of people! How many times do I have to tell you and my sisters and Uncle Harry and Alex and every other person who might know my name that I am not interested in getting married. Period. End of story.”
Completely frustrated, Georgie jumped up and began pacing around her mother’s living room. “Do you know that the other day Joanna invited me to dinner, and when I got there, it wasn’t just her and Chick the way I thought it would be, but she’d invited Chick’s brother?”
Joanna Spinelli was Georgie’s former college roommate and her BFF. She was currently having a torrid romance with Chick London, her boss—big mistake, Georgie thought, mixing her work life with her personal life, as nothing good could come of it—and now she seemed to want everyone else to enter the same besotted state.
“What was so wrong with that?” Cornelia asked.
“Look, Chick’s brother is nice enough, but it was obvious that Joanna was trying to fix me up with him! Dammit, I don’t want to be fixed up with anyone, and she knows that.”
“Please don’t swear, Georgie. It’s very unladylike.”
“Sorry. But honestly, Joanna of all people should know better. And then Bobbie called and got on my case.” Bobbie was the youngest of the four Fairchild sisters, and she was practically still on her honeymoon and wild about her new husband. In fact, all of Georgie’s sisters seemed to be wildly in love … or lust, although they would say they had found their soul mates. Georgie had yet to be convinced that such a thing existed.
“Your sisters love you, Georgie,” her mother said softly. “And so does Joanna.”
“I know they do, Mom, but doesn’t that mean they should listen to me once in a while? I listen to them.” Georgie ignored the little voice of her conscience that said she didn’t always listen to them.
Cornelia shook her head sadly. “Oh, all right, Georgie, have it your own way. But just wait. One of these days you’ll be a forty-something woman with no husband, no children and no prospects. Then let’s see how you feel!
“Besides, I was not trying to fix you up,” she added. “Trust me, I’ve learned my lesson in that area. All I said was Josie Wilcox’s nephew is staying with her while he’s in Seattle on business and he’s at loose ends, and from what she’s said about him, he sounds as if you two might have a lot in common.”
“You know, Mom, first of all—no offense against you, but I barely know Josie Wilcox and from what I do know of her, I have no desire to meet her nephew. Second of all, I have a long way to go until I’m forty-something, considering I’ve just barely turned thirty. And last of all, don’t you remember what that survey showed? The one where they interviewed married men, single men, married women and single women?”
Her mother said nothing, simply picked up her mug of tea and sipped. Her thoughtful eyes studied Georgie over the rim of the cup.
“Well, I do,” Georgie said. “That survey found—and I believe it—that the happiest people are, number one, married men, and, number two, single women. And the unhappiest people are married women!”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Georgie. Anyone can prove anything with a survey. Everyone knows that surveys are skewed by all kinds of things. Why, I know any number of happily married women.”
Georgie sighed. “I don’t want to argue with you. Try to understand, okay? I’m happy the way I am. Unlike your other daughters, I really don’t want to get married. I mean, what’s the point if you don’t want children? I know that just goes against everything you believe, but I’m being honest with myself, and I don’t think I’m cut out to be a mother. Can’t you respect that?”
Her mother glanced out the windows of her recently renovated porch, which was now a sunroom and extension of the living room. Georgie’s gaze followed. The view of Puget Sound from the family’s hilltop home in Queen Anne—one of Georgie’s favorite areas of Seattle—was a sight she had never tired of. Today could have been a day in high summer instead of January: The sun was shining and the water sparkled as if dusted by thousands of diamonds. Maybe one day she, too, would have a home like this, but Georgie intended to pay for every last brick with money she earned. Instead of sublimating her goals for a husband’s. Instead of spending her days ferrying spoiled and overindulged kids to soccer games and skating lessons. Instead of her giving up her independence and freedom. She was sorry if her decisions had made her mother unhappy, but this was her life, not her mother’s!
Cornelia took her time before answering. “If I thought you wouldn’t deeply regret this decision one day, I would respect it, Georgie. But darling, I just don’t think you understand how you’ll feel when you’re older and your childbearing days are over.” Turning back to Georgie, her green eyes—the same color as Georgie’s—were filled with love. “I’ve seen it all too often. Think about your cousin Sophie.”
Sophie Fairchild Jamison was the only daughter of Georgie’s father’s older brother Franklin. Sophie had married late and had desperately been trying to have a child the past few years, with no success.
“I’m not Sophie. I have a demanding job I love, a wonderful family and tons of friends, and if I ever feel the need for a child of my own, I’ll adopt. God knows there are millions of children all over the world who desperately need someone to love them.” Georgie had seen too many of them in her work for the Hunt Foundation. Many nights her dreams were haunted by their sad eyes.
“Yes, I know. But you could do that, too, you know.” Now it was Cornelia’s turn to sigh. “All right, Georgie. I’ll quit ‘bugging’ you, as you’ve so inelegantly expressed it. And I’ll just pray you won’t regret this decision some day.”
“Thank you, Mother.” Now that she’d won her point, Georgie could afford to be magnanimous. She walked to her mother’s chair and knelt before her. “You know I love you, don’t you? And that I’m grateful for everything you’ve sacrificed for us? We can agree to disagree about this one thing, can’t we?”
Her mother smiled. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean I won’t continue to worry about you.”
Georgie raised herself up and kissed her mother’s still-smooth cheek. “I know. I guess I can’t ask for miracles.” Then she grinned. “Although if anyone can accomplish miracles, it’s you.”
“Look who’s talking, Miss I-Finished-College-in-Three-Years-and-Got-My-Master’s-in-Less-than-Two.’”
Although Georgie had never had problems with self-confidence, sometimes her mother’s praise and her sisters’ admiration made her uncomfortable. She was not exceptional or brilliant, and she kept trying to tell them so. She just knew what she wanted, she worked hard and she didn’t waste her time. If she made a bad decision, the moment she realized it was bad, she rectified it. Her sisters were all hard workers, too, but some of them lacked confidence and hesitated before making changes. It was a mystery to Georgie that the four them, so close in age, all born to the very same mother and father, could be so different.
Take Tommi, for instance. The only place she seemed to feel completely sure of herself was in the kitchen.
“So what’s on your agenda now?” her mother asked. “Has Alex made any decision about where you’ll go next?”
Georgie shook her head. “God, I hope so. We’re meeting for lunch tomorrow. Aside from anything else, it’ll be nice to see him again.”
Her mother frowned. “I thought you were working at Alex’s office the past couple of weeks while waiting for a new assignment.”
“Not at the office. I’m doing research for him at home. But I’ll sure be glad to get back into the field. I like research, but not that much.”
Despite this minor complaint, Georgie loved her job, loved that Alex allowed her to have a say in what she did and where she did it. Since coming to work for him at the Hunt Foundation nineteen months earlier, Georgie had been happier than she’d ever been in her entire life.
Alex was a dream boss. One of the things about him she liked most was that he treated all his employees with consideration and respect. P.J., his wife, was one lucky woman. In fact, if Georgie ever found a man like Alex, she might even change her mind about getting married.
“What’re you smiling about?” her mother asked.
Georgie started. She’d forgotten her mother was sitting there. Not a good idea. Her mother was too sharp. She had an uncanny ability to almost read a person’s mind, to the chagrin of all her daughters. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking how happy I’ll be to get busy again.”
Georgie had come home from the Sudan right before the Christmas holiday had begun and had now been on hiatus more than three weeks. She’d told Alex she didn’t need that much time off. After all, she had no husband, children or pets to worry about. And although she was the newly proud owner of a small, loft-type condo in near downtown Belltown, the maid service and condo maintenance she paid for took excellent care of her property when she was away.
“Well,” her mother said, “I hope, if he’s sending you out to the field again, he sends you somewhere peaceful this time. It worries me when you go into countries where there’s so much civil unrest.”
“You know Alex would never put me in danger.”
Cornelia raised her eyebrows. “Afghanistan is terribly dangerous. And so was Burundi. And even the Sudan.”
“I was never in danger in any of those places.” But Georgie mentally crossed her fingers, because she wasn’t telling her mother the entire truth. Sure, she’d been in supposedly protected zones in those countries, and in all cases she’d been accompanied by representatives from the UN, along with a security detail, but still … no one was ever completely safe surrounded by warring factions, and she’d had one or two close—and scary—calls.
Cornelia nodded, but Georgie knew she wasn’t convinced. Giving her mother another kiss, she said, “I’ve gotta run, Mom. I’m getting my hair trimmed. My appointment’s at three o’clock.”
“Phone me tomorrow?” her mother said as she walked Georgie to the door.
“Why? So you can call Alex and yell at him if you don’t like where he’s sending me next?” teased Georgie.
Her mother laughed. “Don’t think I wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I know you would.” And the worst part was, Alex would probably listen. Sometimes Georgie despaired of ever leading a totally independent life. But that’s what she got for taking a job with someone so closely intertwined with her family. Although she and Alex Hunt referred to each other as cousins, they were not really related. Their fathers had been best friends as kids, and as young men they’d co-founded a company that eventually became HuntCom.
Of course, the company’s huge success came years after George Fairchild’s death, so neither he nor Cornelia had benefitted financially the way Harry Hunt, Alex’s father, had. It wasn’t for lack of trying on Harry’s part, though. Harry Hunt wasn’t perfect, but he was nothing if not generous to the people he loved. And George Fairchild’s wife and daughters were high up on that list. Harry had tried everything he could think of to give Cornelia money, and she had thwarted every attempt. He had managed to gift each of her daughters with $100,000 upon their high-school graduation, along with an honorary seat on the HuntCom board. Furious, Cornelia had refused to talk to him for months afterward.
Cornelia was proud. She wasn’t willing to take money she didn’t feel she deserved, no matter how much she could have used the help at the time. And the same applied to her daughters.
Georgie admired her mother more than just about anyone. How many women would have had guts enough and strength enough to hold their heads high after finding out, after his death, that the husband they’d trusted had gambled away every bit of their life’s savings, including their stock in HuntCom? How many women would refuse to take the easy way out that had been offered by Harry Hunt? Not many, Georgie thought.
Cornelia Phillips Fairchild hadn’t wasted a whole lot of time feeling sorry for herself, either. She’d sold the family home, the one asset George Fairchild had not been able to touch, because it belonged to Cornelia outright—her inheritance from the maternal grandmother she’d been named for. She’d bought the much smaller Craftsman-style bungalow in Queen Anne that she still lived in, and she’d taken a job as secretary at the small private girls’ school where her daughters were enrolled. In that way, with what she got for the girls in Social Security, what remained from the sale of the big house and her small salary supplementing free tuition for the girls, she was able to keep their lives as close to normal as possible.
Yes, her mother was a remarkable woman, and Georgie thought the world of her. Even so, she mused as she drove away from the family home, she was no longer a child who needed her mother’s guidance, especially when it came to her love life … or lack thereof.
Georgie hoped they’d settled that subject today and that Cornelia wouldn’t be raising it again. Then she grinned. Of course her mother would raise it again. Her mother wasn’t the type to give up easily.
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.
Chapter Two
Georgie 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.”
