CHAPTER THREE
As Drake walked back to his chair Meg folded her hands in her lap and held her breath. Gracious, what had she gotten herself into? As she stared at his broad back her mouth went dry and she knew she hadn’t lost a single ounce of the attraction she’d felt for him. Oh Lord, she was in trouble.
Drake sat down and rested his crossed arms on the desk. “Thank you for coming,” he said, his voice deep and low and so sexy that she felt a blush creep up her neck. “Under the circumstances you didn’t have to, so I appreciate it.”
That brought her back to earth with a bump. ‘Under the circumstances’ he’d said. Meaning what? I used you then dumped you so I didn’t expect you to show up at my office? Was he rubbing it in? A wave of humiliation washed over her and her palms went damp. If she didn’t need the money so desperately she would get up and walk right out. But sadly, she did. She had to put aside her feelings and think of Jessie. She drew in a breath and let it out slowly, willing herself to stay calm.
Then she looked up and caught him staring at her with hooded eyes that made it impossible for her to read his expression. As her eyes darted up to his he blinked then cleared his throat.
“You have an impressive profile, Meg,” he began then said quickly, “I mean, Mrs. Gracey.”
Oh, so he was going to be formal, was he? She was very good at playing that game. And anyway, maybe it was for the best that they should remain formal. That way, she would never forget her position. She was Drake Duncan’s ghostwriter, nothing more, nothing less.
She gave him a slight nod. “Thank you.”
“Even before I knew who you were I thought you’d be the perfect person to write my memoir.” His face became more animated as if he was beginning to relax in her presence. “So many novels under your belt, one of them on the USA Today Best Seller List.”
She couldn’t help smiling at that one. “Oh, so you’ve been reading up on me.”
“Of course,” he said with a smile that brought a twinkle to his eyes and for a moment he looked just like the Drake Duncan she’d swooned over in college. The years fell away and the person she saw before her was the tall, muscled athlete that all the girls chased after.
Except that he was even more handsome now than he’d been ten years ago. There was a worldliness about him, a self-confidence and sophistication that hadn’t been there before. If he’d been a lady killer then she could just imagine what he was now, successful and super handsome and single. Yes, he was still single. He’d read up on her but she’d read up on him, too. And she knew he was one of the wealthiest eligible bachelors in Chicago.
But that meant nothing to her. She was here to do a job and she would do it to the best of her ability and then be on her way.
“I guess the project will take anywhere from three to six months,” he was saying, “but you’re the writer. You know best. I’m relying on you to work out an appropriate schedule.”
“No problem,” she said, her tone brisk. “Before I start writing anything I’ll have to do a series of detailed interviews then I’ll compile my notes and get started.” She pointed to the desk calendar. “If you just hand that to me I can set up the interview dates right now.”
He slid it over to her and this time she made sure their hands didn’t touch. That would be too much to handle. Right then, all she wanted to do was deal with the business at hand and then get the heck out of that office. In that space she was too close to Drake for comfort.
He looked at the dates she’d highlighted. “So we start next week?”
She nodded. “Monday afternoon, before the week gets on the way.”
“What about this week?” he asked. “I want to get started as soon as possible.”
She shook her head. “No can do. I need this week to arrange my business so that once I get started I can just focus. I need to arrange for a babysitter for those days when I need to be here.”
“You…have children?” A stricken look crossed his face then in a flash it was gone.
Meg frowned. So what if she had children? Would that be an issue? It certainly wouldn’t affect the quality of her work. “I have a five year old,” she said, her tone slightly defensive. “My daughter, Jessie.”
“Oh,” he said. “That’s…nice.”
His words were appropriate but Meg could see that her having a child had affected him in some way. His face had gone still and his voice quiet. Now he seemed to be deep in thought.
“Is that a problem?”
His eyes snapped back to her face. “Excuse me?”
“Is it a problem that I have a child? You don’t seem too happy about it.”
“No, not at all.” He had the grace to look ashamed. “I guess I’m just getting used to the idea of you having a family.”
Meg almost laughed. It had been ten years since she’d last seen or spoken to this man. Did he expect her to believe that she’d actually crossed his mind even once over those ten years?
On the other hand, he’d crossed her mind a lot. She couldn’t count the number of nights she’d cried herself to sleep, thinking about Drake and how he’d stolen her heart only to then turn around and stomp it into the dust. And now he had the audacity to pretend as if he’d spent any time thinking about her. As she thought about it she felt the anger build inside.
She glared at him. “Well, I’m glad my daughter is not a concern for you. I assure you, my dealings with you will be quite professional so you have no need to worry about Jessie getting in the way of your project.”
He frowned, seeming perturbed. “I wasn’t thinking that at all,” he said, his tone leaving her in no doubt that he was annoyed. “I have no question about your professionalism, Mrs. Gracey. I know you're the best.”
There he went again, addressing her in that formal tone. And, to her chagrin, instead of feeling triumphant she only felt depressed. Get a grip, Meg. You’re far too emotional today.