The singing was soothing therapy for Meg. She needed it after the grueling day she’d had. Despite the cheery face she showed Jessie, inside she was in turmoil. That morning she’d done yet another job interview, this time for the position of technical writer with a law firm, but she knew the likelihood of her getting the job was slim. There had been seventeen other applicants vying for the same position, all of them placed in the same room to fill out the application form. It had been so demoralizing.
The life of a writer was not easy, particularly in an economic environment where it had become even harder to get picked up by agents and publishers. Three years earlier she’d given up her teaching career to pursue her life passion and she’d achieved some measure of success, selling seven of her contemporary romance manuscripts and making a reasonable living, enough to sustain herself and her daughter. But the past six months had been brutal. She had two manuscripts still sitting on editors’ tables and at the same time she had bills to pay. With reality staring her in the face she started putting out ads on craigslist.com and on job boards, offering her services as a ghostwriter. So far the phone hadn’t been ringing off the hook with calls from people wanting to write their memoirs or the novel of their hearts. The stupid phone hadn’t rung once since she’d posted the ads.
Not one to roll over and die, she started looking for writing work in the technical field – brochures, product manuals, websites – but the market had lots of job hunters with tons of experience in that area. Why would anyone hire her over them? Still, she kept on trying. Tomorrow was another day. She’d get up early and start the search all over again.
As they pulled into the underground parking garage, Meg pasted a practised smile on her lips and turned to her daughter who sat humming in the back seat. She was sure Jessie would be a singer one day. Whenever she sang her sea-blue eyes sparkled and she’d shake her head till her sunshine curls bounced around her cheeks. She adored music.
“Ready to go, sweetie?”
“Can we have spaghetti for dinner?” Jessie gave her a cherubic smile as she began to unbuckle her seatbelt.
“Honey, we had spaghetti yesterday. And the day before. No more spaghetti.” Meg wiggled her finger at the little girl but she just laughed. Jessie knew she had her mother wrapped around her little finger and she used that knowledge to full advantage.
“Spaghetti, spaghetti, spaghetti,” Jessie chanted then laughed out loud as Meg reached over to tickle her.
That evening they came to a compromise. They didn’t have spaghetti for dinner but they did have Jessie’s next favorite dish – macaroni and cheese. Meg made sure she ate some baked chicken with it. The little girl would live on pasta alone if she could. Then that night as the bedside clock struck eight they climbed into Jessie’s twin bed where she leaned against her mother and they read fairy tales until the eyelids drooped and the little head sagged. Then Meg slid slowly out of the bed, laid her daughter’s head on the pillow, and pulled the blanket up under her chin. She leaned over and kissed the curly little head then reached over and switched off the bedside lamp. “G’night, Jessie,” she whispered to her sleeping child then slipped out the door.
Now that Jessie was down for the night it was time for Meg to get down to her usual order of business – job hunting. She’d been at it into the wee hours of the morning and tonight she was dead tired but she did not have the luxury of taking even one night off. Her savings were dwindling. She had to find work, and fast.
Meg sat at the dining table and munched on an apple as she booted up her computer. She hadn’t done her exercises today, hadn’t gone on the stationary bike for the last four days, actually. She’d been so preoccupied that she’d slipped up on the one thing she’d always told herself she’d never compromise on. As far as she was concerned exercise was the number one factor for good health and, with a daughter to take care of, she needed to stay healthy. Oh, well, at least she was getting in a serving of fruit before the day expired. An apple a day was better than nothing.
She’d been lost in thought for several seconds before she realized that the computer screen was displaying the opening page of her e-mail account. She’d entered the password without even realizing it. She often did things on auto-pilot. Now as she stared at the screen she frowned. Was she seeing right? After weeks and weeks of advertising and posting, there in her mailbox was a reply entitled ‘Ghostwriter for Hire’. Someone had responded to her ad.
Heart skipping in anticipation, she raised a hand that trembled slightly. She clicked on the mouse. The screen popped open and she read the message. “We would like to meet with you regarding engaging your services as a ghostwriter. If we can agree on mutually acceptable terms…” She read on and the more she read the more excited she got. Whoever it was, they wanted to hire her immediately. The words were like music to her heart.
They were based right there in Chicago, the story would be based on the experiences of the CEO of the corporation, and they wanted someone whose timing was flexible. Okay, that part might be a bit tricky but somehow she would get around it. She had a babysitter and a neighbor who watched Jessie every now and then. She might have to call on her for those times when this client might want her to be available on the weekend. Whatever it took, she would have to make it work.
Meg slumped back in the chair, relief flooding through her. She could finally see light at the bottom of the dismal hole into which she had fallen. She was grinning like an idiot but she didn’t care. She could do the happy dance right now and not feel a twinge of embarrassment. Unless, of course, the grumpy old super came to the door and found her doing the dance in her T-shirt-for-nightdress, bunny slippers and her head tied up in a red and white polka dot scarf.
Meg was still smiling as she reached for a pen and a sheet of paper to record the details of the company that had made the offer. And that was when she saw the name. She froze. Her mouth went slack. Duncan Investments. And the CEO was none other than Drake Duncan, the man who had broken her heart.
CHAPTER TWO
Meg gasped and slumped back in her chair, this time not in relief but in shock. She could not believe it. The lifeline she’d been thrown had come from the very man she’d tried so hard to forget. So many years had passed. She didn’t even know if he would still remember her. But she remembered him, just as clearly as if they’d just met. There was no way in the world she would ever forget the man who had taken her virginity.