Between her booming, yet still fledgling, business and her commitment to help her sister with the kids, Megan was on the go 24-7. Even if she met someone who interested her more than her career, where would she find the time to be with the guy?
Uh-uh. Right now, romance was just not on her agenda.
And the slight—and so over—crush on Greg Banning would be no problem. This was business. Period. And it would be a major feather in Megan’s professional cap to bring in her team and create a whole new image for Banning’s, Inc.
“So, then,” said Carly. Megan turned her head to find the other woman watching her. “You do want me to do it—to give him a call for you?”
“Yes. Thank you so much. I’d love a shot at a contract with Banning’s.”
“Great. I’ll call him. You can consider it done.”
Chapter Two
On Monday, July 3, with Independence Day looming, most of the businesses in Manhattan’s financial district had gone ahead and called it a four-day weekend. At the offices of Banning’s, Inc., a lone receptionist held down the fort at the desk by the elevators. And Greg Banning, president and CEO, sat alone in his bright corner office, tying up a few loose ends without the usual workday bustle and noise to distract him.
He could have been elsewhere. He’d had invitations. Since becoming a bachelor all over again, Greg had discovered that there were a lot of good-looking, smart women who were more than willing to go out with him. Hey. He was a Banning. That meant money and influence and that made him a catch.
But Greg wanted something not just any sophisticated, beautiful woman could give him. He wanted…
Okay. He wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted. But he knew what he didn’t want: a woman who was after him for his name and his bank account.
So instead of a lawn party upstate or a four-day weekend in the Hamptons, Greg had opted for the temporary quiet of the city and the pile of work always waiting on his desk. He’d given his personal assistant the day off, had a clear calendar and didn’t expect to be disturbed.
But then, at eleven, his phone buzzed. Surprised, he checked the display: the security desk down in the lobby. Was the building on fire?
Frowning, he punched the talk button. “Greg Banning.”
“Mr. Banning, Megan Schumacher is here to see you.”
Megan Schumacher? Who the hell was…?
Then he remembered. Damn. Carly had called him two weeks ago and asked him to interview Angela Schumacher’s sister. He’d agreed, and had gently gotten rid of Carly. And then promptly forgotten all about it. Which was why the appointment—for today, at eleven—had never made it to his calendar.
Greg scoured his brain. Megan Schumacher…
The woman lived over the Angela’s garage, didn’t she? And she was in…?
Graphic design. Yeah. According to Carly, she owned a small company, the name of which escaped him. Carly had asked him to consider using Megan’s little company for Banning’s design work.
Greg just hadn’t been able to tell her no. He felt bad for Carly. He honestly did. He felt bad and he felt guilty—which was why he’d made sure she got a nice, fat divorce settlement and why he couldn’t refuse her when she asked him to interview her friend from the neighborhood.
Greg straightened his tie and shook his head. What a damn waste of time—both his and the poor Schumacher girl’s. Banning’s already had the services of a top-notch graphic design firm at their disposal. It was a firm Banning’s had been using for over twenty years, a firm that invariably delivered a quality product on time and within budget.
So there was zero chance he would hire Megan Schumacher. And that meant all he could do right now was smile and make nice and let the poor thing down gently.
“Thanks. Send her up.” He punched the line to the receptionist’s desk. “Jennifer, Megan Schumacher is coming up to see me. Show her the way to my office.”
“Of course, Mr. Banning.”
Greg hung up and went back to the flow chart he’d been studying. A few minutes later, Jennifer spoke from beyond his wide-open door.
“Mr. Banning, Ms. Schumacher is here….”
Greg clicked the program shut and glanced up. The sexiest woman he’d ever seen was standing in the doorway. Greg blinked. “Uh. Thanks, Jennifer. That’s all.” The receptionist left them.
And the incredible woman in the doorway greeted him with a glowing, dimpled smile. “Greg. How’ve you been?”
Simple question. But somehow, he’d temporarily forgotten how to speak.
Superlatives scrolled through his stunned brain: amazing. Outstanding. Exceptional…
Not pretty, really. Better than pretty.
She was full-figured in a hot-pink jacket and skirt, an outfit that hugged her generous curves. She wore one of those camisole things under the jacket; he spotted a tempting hint of black lace that matched her sleek black high-heeled shoes. Her blond hair fell in soft waves to her shoulders.
Could this possibly be Angela Schumacher’s nondescript little sister?
Evidently.
He couldn’t believe it. He remembered Megan Schumacher—or rather, he didn’t remember her. To be brutally honest about it, all he could recall of her was a general, fuzzy impression of someone shy and plain and slightly overweight.
But this woman…
She literally sparkled with energy and life and…well, there was that word again: sex.
He really needed to stop thinking about sex.
Greg was a conservative man. He kept his flirtations away from the office, never mixed business with pleasure, had never gotten near another woman while he was married to Carly.
But right then, in the first five seconds after this new, astonishing Megan Schumacher entered his office, all of his fine principles flew right out the window. He wanted her. Damned if he didn’t. He wanted her bad.
And he’d been sitting there gaping at her like a teenage kid with his first big-time crush. He jumped to his feet. “Megan. It’s great to see you.”
She dimpled at him again. “Admit it. You barely remembered me. And I can see it in your eyes. You promised Carly you’d give me this meeting—and then you instantly forgot all about it.”
Ouch. She’d nailed him.
No point in denying it. “Okay, you got me,” he confessed as he stepped out from behind his big glass desk and crossed to meet her. She carried a large, soft briefcase and a hefty portfolio. He took the portfolio from her with his left hand and extended his right. “But now you’re here and so am I. And I can’t wait to hear all about what Design Solutions can do for Banning’s.”
She sent him a conspiratorial glance, one that hinted she thought he was laying it on a little thick. But all she said was, “Good. Because Design Solutions has a lot to offer you.” Her perfume tempted him—flowers, plus something slightly tart. And more than the flowers and the tartness, she smelled of…
Peaches. Damned if she didn’t smell like a sweet, ripe peach. Her hand was soft and smooth and cool. He liked the feel of it cradled in his. Liked it a lot.
He had to remind himself to let go. “Your company is relatively new, isn’t it?”
She nodded firmly. “Design Solutions is three years old and growing by leaps and bounds. I have two graphic artists on staff, a Web expert, an office manager, a clerk-receptionist and an intern who helps out wherever we need him. I’m looking at bringing in another artist and possibly even a second designer