Ashley claimed that was what made people so interesting, and she would know. Not only had Megan’s sister enjoyed an active social life before she’d met the man who was now her fiancé, she taught first grade at a local school and absolutely thrived in the environment of incessant noise and unending chaos that was created by twenty six-year-olds in a classroom.
But it was the recent engagement that was the cause of Megan’s dreaded trip to the Pinehurst Shopping Center. Apparently it wasn’t enough that Trevor had put a ring on Ashley’s finger, now they were having a party to celebrate the event.
“Nothing fancy,” Ashley had assured her. “Just drinks and hors d’oeuvres with family and some close friends.”
Of course, Megan knew her sister’s definition of “nothing fancy” was drastically different from her own and that even drinks and hors d’oeuvres required something a little more formal than comfy faded jeans and her favorite “Go Green” T-shirt—especially since their mother had become involved in the planning.
The sky had turned dark by the time Megan pulled into a vacant parking space and the first drops of rain were starting to fall as she dashed across the lot.
The mall was busier than she would have expected for a Friday afternoon, and she found herself hesitating inside the entrance.
She’d always been a little uncomfortable in crowds, always feeling as if everyone was looking at her. It wasn’t just an irrational feeling but a ridiculous one, because the reality was that no one ever noticed her. Megan didn’t stand out in a crowd of one, but she still had to force herself to take a deep breath before she could step forward.
For a lot of years, she’d simply avoided crowds rather than fight against the panicky feelings they stirred inside. But over the past few years, she’d made an effort to overcome this fear, and had mostly done so. She rarely felt afraid anymore, just awkward and uncomfortable.
A strand of hair had come loose from her ponytail and she tucked it behind her ear as she studied the mall directory, looking for Chaundra’s Boutique.
“I asked Anne-Marie to set aside the cutest little dress that I know will look fabulous on you,” Ashley had told her.
Nothing had ever looked fabulous on Megan’s shapeless frame, but she hadn’t disputed her sister’s statement. There was no changing Ashley’s mind once it was made up and if she wanted her to buy this dress, Megan would buy the dress. It was certainly an easier solution than having to pick something out on her own.
She headed through the maze of halls toward the boutique. Thirteen minutes later—three of which were taken up with a phone call from Ashley, who wanted to make sure Megan hadn’t forgotten to stop at the mall and then, when she realized her sister was in the boutique, convinced her to let Anne-Marie pick out some jewelry to go with the dress—she was on her way back out again. A relatively quick and painless shopping experience, Megan thought gratefully, as she retraced her steps toward the exit.
An opinion that quickly changed when she stood at the doors and stared out at the rain pounding down on the pavement. With a sigh, she folded the dress bag over her arm and pushed open the door. She was halfway to her car when she realized her keys weren’t in her pocket—and totally drenched by the time she turned around again.
She tracked her keys down in Chaundra’s Boutique, by the register where she’d set them down to answer her sister’s call. She thanked the perpetually smiling Anne Marie again and left the store, wondering how anyone could be so perky all the time, thanking her lucky stars that she worked in the lab where smiling was optional.
Then she turned the corner and walked into a brick wall.
Okay, so it only felt like a brick wall, Megan acknowledged. What it was, in reality, was a man’s chest.
She berated herself for her clumsiness as she lifted her gaze and prepared to apologize. But the words stuck in her throat when she pushed her soggy bangs away from her face and recognized the man standing in front of her.
Gage Richmond.
The younger son of the CEO of Richmond Pharmaceuticals. The man whose mere presence always made her pulse race and her knees quiver.
The first time she’d met him, on her first day of work at the R.P. lab, she’d nearly melted in a puddle at his feet just because he shook her hand. The man was seriously hot—and Megan had been seriously smitten. Not that she would ever admit it, of course. In fact, she went out of her way to avoid him whenever possible because she didn’t want him to know that her heart beat a little bit faster whenever he was near. And she didn’t want to acknowledge—even to herself—that she was shallow enough to be attracted to a hard body and sexy smile, especially considering her past experience with his type.
On the other hand, no one she’d ever known quite measured up to Gage Richmond. He had thick, light brown hair that curled just above the collar of his shirt, stunning golden brown eyes surrounded by unbelievably long lashes, a strong square jaw and a temptingly shaped mouth. And then there was his body—a long and lean six feet two inches of delicious and delectable male.
“Sorry about that,” he said, holding out the keys that had slipped from her grasp when they’d collided.
“My fault,” she managed to reply, looking away again and desperately hoping that he wouldn’t recognize her.
“No, it was mine. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” Then he destroyed her meager hope by saying, “It’s Megan, right?”
She nodded, a little surprised that he’d remembered. Men like Gage Richmond didn’t usually notice women like her, despite the fact that she’d worked for his father’s company for almost three years.
“I guess it’s really raining out there now,” he said.
“I wouldn’t know,” she said. “I generally just drench myself before coming out in public because I like the wet look.”
Ashley had often said her tendency to hide her fears and insecurities behind sarcasm was going to get her in trouble someday and, even as the words spilled out of Megan’s mouth, she wished she could yank them back.
But Gage only grinned. “I’d say it’s a good look for you except that you’re shivering.”
“The price women pay to be fashionable.”
“How about a cup of coffee to warm you up?”
Gage Richmond was asking her to have coffee with him? Megan couldn’t believe it.
“Or don’t you drink coffee?” he prompted.
“No,” she said. “I mean, yes. I do drink coffee. But I’m not drinking coffee now. I mean, I don’t want any coffee. I want to go home.”
Megan could hear the words tumbling out of her mouth, but didn’t seem able to stop them. If they’d been in California, she could hope that the ground would open up and swallow her whole. But in Pinehurst, New York, earthquakes were extremely rare, so she was forced to live with the humiliating knowledge that she’d made a complete fool of herself in front of her boss’s son.
But Gage either didn’t notice or didn’t care that she was rambling almost incoherently, because he asked, “Is there anything I can say that would talk you into hanging around for another half an hour or so?”
“Why do you want me to hang around?” she asked bluntly.
He lifted one broad shoulder in a half shrug. “I’m kind of stuck trying to figure out a birthday present and I would really appreciate a woman’s input.”