Meet Mr. Prince

by Patricia Kay

  Georgie felt so bad for Katie, because she could imagine how the kid felt. Some of what Georgie was thinking and feeling must have shown in her face, because Sabrina—who had begun shepherding Jeremy and Emma toward the family room—said, “It’ll be okay, Georgie. I hope it’s okay to call you Georgie?”

  “Please do,” Georgie said, wheeling herself after them.

  “Can we watch TV?” Jeremy asked when the four of them were settled in the pleasant room.

  “May we watch TV?” Sabrina said. “And yes, I think that would be fine. Unless Fanny has your dinner ready?”

  Fanny had walked into the room while Sabrina was talking. She nodded, saying, “Dinner is ready, but it’ll stay warm. I didn’t know if everyone was going to eat together or if you children are eating first…” Her voice trailed off and she looked to Sabrina.

  Sabrina shrugged. “I don’t know, either. Um, we have a bit of a crisis. Zach’s in Katie’s room.”

  Georgie realized the two women had a shorthand of their own, because Fanny nodded knowingly.

  “What’s a cry-sis?” Emma asked.

  “It’s when somebody’s crying, dummy,” Jeremy said, rolling his eyes. He looked at Georgie to see if she was watching him.

  “I’m not a dummy!” Emma said. She punched his arm.

  He immediately punched her back, and she started to cry. “You hurt me!”

  “Yeah, well, you punched me first!”

  Emma kicked him.

  He started to kick her back when Sabrina grabbed him and pulled him away from Emma.

  “Jeremy. Emma. I want you to stop this right now.” She turned to Jeremy. “The word crisis does not mean someone is crying. It means there’s a problem. And Emma is right. She’s not a dummy. I want you to apologize to her for calling her one.”

  “But Aunt Sabrina, she hit me!”

  “What’s going on in here?”

  The women turned as Zach entered the room. Georgie’s heart went out to him. He looked so tired.

  “Everything’s fine, Zach,” Sabrina said. “There’s no problem.”

  Georgie saw the relief on Jeremy’s face. Emma, too, quit sniffling and sidled closer to her aunt.

  “Is everything okay?” Sabrina asked Zach.

  “I hope so,” he said. He turned to Fanny. “Is dinner ready?”

  “Yes. Is everyone going to eat now?”

  Zach looked at Georgie. “Hungry?”

  “I’m always hungry,” she said in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

  He smiled gratefully. “What about you, Sabrina? Want to eat with us?”

  “Thanks, but Peter and Tommy are waiting for me. We’re going to Antonio’s tonight, since the cupboard is bare.” She looked at her watch. “In fact, I’d better be going.”

  “Okay,” Zach said. “Thanks for everything. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  Georgie knew Zach’s sister was probably dying to know what had transpired with Katie, just as Georgie was, but with Jeremy and Emma there, she wouldn’t ask.

  “It was a pleasure meeting you, Georgie,” Sabrina said. “I hope I’ll see you again sometime.”

  “Thank you. I do, too.”

  Turning to Zach, she said, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Zach nodded and walked his sister out, but not before saying to Fanny, “It’ll just be the four of us at the table, then, Fanny. Katie’s stomach is upset and she doesn’t want to eat.”

  “I’ll fix her some soup, then, maybe?” Fanny said.

  Zach shook his head. “No. She’s gone to bed.”

  Georgie could tell Fanny wanted to say something further, but something in Zach’s expression stopped her. Georgie herself felt sick to her stomach. The last thing on earth she wanted was to come between Zach and his daughter…or to cause them any more problems.

  But she had.

  She was the sole reason for Katie’s stomachache.

  I knew it was a mistake to go skating with Zach and the kids. Why hadn’t she listened to herself? If she had, none of this would ever have happened.

  I can’t stay here.

  In fact, I can’t stay in New York. And the sooner I get out of both places, the better off everyone will be.

  Chapter Twelve

  Georgie could tell Zach was trying hard, but dinner was a strained affair. Even the children must have sensed that something was wrong, because they were more subdued than they’d been all day. Or maybe they were just tired. Georgie figured she didn’t know them well enough to tell the difference.

  Gamely, she tried to keep up her end of the conversation, and she managed well enough, although she could see Zach’s mind was elsewhere. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out where, either. Knowing the kind of father Zach was, Georgie was sure he was worrying about Katie. Shoot, she was worrying about Katie.

  Poor kid. She must have felt as if her world were spinning out of control. Georgie remembered how she’d felt when, after her dad died, her mother had gone to work.

  Georgie had hated that. She was used to coming home from school and Cornelia being there—a snack already made and waiting—some days fresh brownies, some days homemade peanut-butter cookies and always a bowl of fresh fruit. Georgie still remembered what a treat the first Rainier cherries had been, how she and her sisters would gorge themselves on them.

  But then George Fairchild died, and everything changed. They’d had to move, there’d been a lot less money, and Cornelia had taken a job. It had been hard on all of them.

  How would Georgie and her sisters have felt if they’d suspected their mother was getting interested in some other man while they were still mourning their father? Georgie had a feeling she’d have been just as appalled as Katie seemed to be.

  Kids needed the security of a safe world, especially after the death of a beloved parent or a traumatic divorce. And that feeling of safety sure didn’t include some other person stepping into the shoes of the missing parent.

  No wonder Katie had behaved the way she had earlier. And no wonder Zach couldn’t shake off what had happened as unimportant. If he had, Georgie would have thought a whole lot less of him.

  Even little Emma was affected by tonight’s mood. She was sitting to Zach’s left, and every once in a while she would reach over and pat his hand. It was one of the sweetest things Georgie had ever seen, and the second time she did it—looking at Zach with those big, blue eyes of hers—Georgie had to fight to keep tears out of her eyes.

  What am I doing here? I don’t belong here. I’m just causing trouble.

  If there were any possible way Georgie could have climbed out of the wheelchair and walked out and left Zach and his children in peace, she would have.

  By the time they were in the middle of their dessert—a delicious lemon pie that Georgie could see was homemade—Georgie was a wreck and she had a headache from thinking and worrying. She had also made a decision. She would spend tonight at Zach’s apartment because she really had no other option except to move to a hotel, and she knew Zach would be even more upset if she did that. But tomorrow morning, as soon as she knew her mother would be awake, she planned to call Cornelia and ask her to come to New York to stay with her until she could function on her own.

  The second call she’d make would be to Alex. She’d ask him to find someone else to help Zach until he could replace his assistant.

  And then I’ll go back to Seattle, where I belong.

  Zach had planned for Georgie to remain at the apartment on Monday. He’d figured Fanny could pamper her, and Georgie could just rest her ankle by keeping her foot propped up while she read or watched television or napped. But Georgie wouldn’t hear of it.

  “I’m going to the office,” she said firmly. “I’m all ready.”

  And she was. In fact, she’d been ready and waiting when he came back from seeing Katie and Jeremy off to school. Dressed in a dark skirt and white blouse, Georgie, along with Emma, was eating pancakes and bacon in the kitchen. When Zach walked in, Fanny was in the
process of preparing another plate for him.

  Zach felt better this morning, although he’d had a restless and worried night. He was still worried because he had no idea what to do about Katie other than to talk to her counselor and ask her to spend some extra time with his daughter. He guessed he should call Celeste Fouchet this morning, see if she could fit Katie in today.

  What he wouldn’t do was ask Georgie to leave the apartment, even though that’s what Katie wanted. In fact, she’d turned stony when he told her he couldn’t do that. After that, she’d refused to talk to him and she’d refused to come out for dinner. Her last gesture spoke volumes. When he’d left her room, she’d locked the door behind him.

  All the rooms in his apartment had been fitted with locks as a safety measure. Zach had a master key. In fact, there were several. Fanny had one, too. The last thing he wanted was for one of his children—or anyone—to be trapped in a room accidentally.

  So Katie locking the door was symbolic only, because she knew Zach could get in if he wanted to. It had hurt him to hear that click. He knew in her ten-year-old mind, she was locking him out of her heart, just as she thought he was locking her out of his.

  All night last night, he’d been unable to forget the look of betrayal in her eyes while he’d tried to talk to her. He knew he’d let her down, yet he’d felt powerless to do anything else. He couldn’t ask Georgie to leave. That wouldn’t be right, and it wouldn’t help Katie with the deeper problem of her inability to come to terms with Jenny’s death.

  You don’t want Georgie to leave because you like having her close by. You like pretending she’s something she’s never going to be.

  He had tried again this morning to get Katie to talk to him, but other than saying, “I’ll be late for school, Dad,” she had hardly even looked at him. He knew he couldn’t let this situation go on. Whether or not she was hurting, she had to understand that she couldn’t be rude to people, especially someone who was a guest in their home. He sighed inwardly. He wasn’t looking forward to telling Katie she would have to apologize to Georgie.

  “Mr. Prince,” Fanny said, forcing him to stop thinking about last night and Katie’s meltdown, “did you want me to call the cleaner today?” She set his breakfast on the table.

  Zach nodded. “Thanks, Fanny. Make sure you tell them about that spot on my gray suit.” Then, in an effort to lighten the atmosphere, he said to Emma, “Guess what? Nana is going to come and visit us next week.”

  “Nana!” Emma shouted. She was so excited that she knocked her fork on the floor and almost succeeded in sending her glass of milk right after it.

  Zach pushed the glass out of the danger zone. “Be careful, honey.”

  “I want a doll this time!” Emma said, the volume of her voice still in high-decibel range.

  “Jenny’s mother always brings something for the kids when she visits,” Zach said, feeling the need to explain to Georgie that there was a legitimate reason for Emma’s expectation.

  “My grandmother always had something for me and my sisters when she visited, too,” Georgie said. She smiled, but it seemed halfhearted to Zach, as if her mind were elsewhere.

  He hoped she didn’t feel unwelcome, but with the way Katie had acted last night, he wouldn’t blame Georgie if she did. He wished he could think of something to say to make her feel better, but he was at a loss right now. The best he could do was, “We’d better be going. I’ve got an interview set up for ten-thirty.” The wall clock showed it was already after nine. He ignored the uneaten portion of his breakfast. Food was unappealing right now.

  Fifteen minutes later he and Georgie sat in the backseat of a cab inching its way through rush-hour traffic. The portable wheelchair had been folded up and was safely ensconced in the trunk, along with Georgie’s crutches. Even though Zach had originally wanted Georgie to rest today, he had to admit he was glad now that she would be in the office today, and not just because he was afraid she would have been miserable at the apartment with only Fanny for company.

  Truth was, he would miss her when she left for Seattle. In some ways, he was almost happy Luke Peterson had turned down the job. He smiled ruefully. If Alex knew how torn Zach felt, what would he say?

  He’d say I need to get my hormones under control.

  No. Alex wouldn’t say that. Not Alex. Alex would understand, because he’d once confessed that the moment he met his wife, P.J., he hadn’t had another second’s peace. “Truth is,” he’d said, “I fell like the proverbial ton of bricks.”

  That’s what’s happening to me. Trouble is, I can’t do a damned thing about it, no matter how much I want to.

  Sneaking a glance at Georgie, he caught her in an unguarded moment. Her face was turned away, but there was an undeniable air of tension about her, and he was seized by an almost uncontrollable urge to pull her into his arms. To tell her everything was going to be okay. To tell her I…what? I don’t have the right to tell her anything.

  Luckily, before he could do anything stupid, the moment passed, and the cab pulled up before their building.

  Deborah jumped up from her desk to hold the door open when Zach and Georgie arrived. After maneuvering the wheelchair through, Zach and Deborah helped Georgie remove her coat. Then Deborah, who took the coat as well as Georgie’s scarf and gloves, left Zach free to get Georgie settled in her office.

  “You okay?” he asked once she was positioned behind her desk and Deborah had brought in a cup of coffee and the files Georgie needed to get started on the day’s work.

  “I’m fine, Zach. Thank you. I can manage on my own now.”

  There was no warmth in her voice, and she didn’t meet his eyes. He wished he knew what she was thinking. She hadn’t been this distant yesterday. Was there more bothering her than just Katie’s behavior last night? Was Georgie finally feeling as if everything that had happened to her in the past two days were his fault? Was she regretting coming to New York at all?

  He wanted to say how sorry he was. He wanted to say how much he cared for her. How much he wished he were free to see if what he had sensed between them were real. But how could he? What good would it do? He wasn’t free. His kids had to take precedence over his needs. Katie needed him more than he needed Georgie.

  Suddenly Zach felt as if his entire life were crashing down around him. He was only human. He could only do so much. And obviously, what he was doing was woefully inadequate in the eyes of everyone he loved.

  That this was an exaggeration crossed his mind. Yet at that moment, it didn’t feel that way. So he did what he had done in many moments of crisis.

  He headed for his office to call his twin.

  Georgie stared at Zach’s closed door. She was so upset, her heart was pounding. She wasn’t sure she could sit in this office today, even though she was the one who had insisted upon coming to work. But it would have been worse to sit in Zach’s apartment all day long—an interloper, the woman who had caused Zach’s troubled daughter such grief.

  I have to get out of here just as soon as possible. I can’t be around him. I’ve fallen in love with him. We’ve never even kissed, yet all I can think about is Zach. Nothing else seems important to me, and if I don’t get away from him soon, I’m going to do something or say something I can’t take back.

  She bit her lip, looked at the clock. Almost ten, but still only seven in Seattle. Would her mother be awake yet?

  I’ll wait another half hour. When Zach’s candidate shows up for his interview, I’ll call her.

  With any luck at all, her mother could be here tonight.

  “Cornelia.”

  Cornelia had been staring out the tenth-floor window of the hospital. The lights of downtown Seattle and the more distant lights from various islands in Puget Sound were just beginning to fade as the morning sky brightened, but the vista, one she had always loved, didn’t soothe her. For the past half hour, ever since Harry had been wheeled away, she’d been staring out sightlessly, lost in thought. Now, at the sound of Amelia’s
voice— Amelia was Gray’s wife and a favorite of Cornelia’s—she turned.

  “Gray’s going to walk over to Starbucks,” Amelia said. “Would you like him to bring something back?”

  Cornelia shook her head. “Thank you, dear. I don’t want anything.”

  “Not even a cup of tea?”

  “Not now. Thank you, anyway.” Cornelia had spent the night at the hospital, even though Harry’s sons and their wives all had urged her to go home and get some sleep. But she wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Somehow she felt if she kept her vigil, all would be well.

  Harry was undergoing emergency bypass surgery that morning and was being prepped. The surgery was scheduled for eight o’clock. A blockage had been found and his cardiologist felt it was crucial to operate as soon as possible. Luckily, the heart surgeon that Dr. Kedar wanted was available. But knowing how people jumped when Harry needed or wanted them, Cornelia was certain the surgeon would have altered any previous plans to make sure he was free.

  She’d debated calling her daughters last night but had decided to wait until this morning. There would be no point in having the girls rush to the hospital. It wasn’t as if they could do anything to help. And they all led such busy lives and had so many commitments. Especially Frankie, with that restaurant of hers. It was enough that Harry’s sons and their wives were here.

  And me. I’ll be here for as long as Harry wants me.

  Cornelia didn’t want to think that Harry might now have changed his mind about wanting to marry her, because the thought hurt. She wanted to believe he would still feel the exact same way, no matter the outcome of today’s surgery. No matter his prognosis.

  But maybe he wouldn’t.

  The thought made her long for the comfort of having her daughters close by. Because as much as she loved Harry’s sons and their families, they weren’t yet hers.