The Reluctant Cinderella by Christine Rimmer Page A

she’ll probably be very angry with you.”
    â€œAnd hurt. She’ll be so hurt.”
    â€œShe’s already hurt. And I hope she gets past it. But you’ve got a problem of your own here and your problem is that you haven’t been honest with her.”
    Â 
    Angela had it right. And Megan knew it.
    The kids came down for breakfast. Megan went back over to her place and got ready for work.
    But she didn’t go to work.
    At nine, she marched over to Carly’s and rang the bell.
    There was no answer—at first. But then, just as she was about to ring the bell again, the door opened a crack and Carly peeked through.
    â€œMegan!” She sounded so happy. The knife of guilt in Megan’s stomach twisted deeper. Carly pulled the door wide. “Come on in….”
    Grimly resigned to get the truth out once and for all, Megan stepped inside. Carly shut the door and let out a soft, nervous giggle as she patted her sleep-mussed golden hair. “Well, as you can see…” She retied the sash of her silk robe. “I’m not up and about yet. Lately, I just seem to be a hopeless slug-abed….”
    â€œCarly, I really need to—”
    â€œBut you… ” Carly’s eyes had gone wide. “Megan. You look terrific. You should wear bold colors all the time. This bright turquoise does wonders for your skin—not to mention those pretty green eyes of yours. It’s, well, Megan, this is a whole other you.”
    â€œThanks. I was just, um, on my way to work….”
    Carly took her by the shoulders. “Well, I am serious as a heart attack here. Get yourself some casual clothes in bright colors. Be as gorgeous at home as you are when you go to work.”
    â€œUm. I will. I’ll do that.”
    â€œGood. Now, how about some coffee?”
    â€œAh, no. Thanks. I’m fine.”
    A line had formed between Carly’s smooth brows. “Megan. You seem…are you all right?”
    She blew out a hard breath. “No. Not really. I have something to tell you. Could we maybe sit down?”
    In the den, Carly took the recliner. “Now, what? Tell me what’s bothering you.”
    Megan realized there was no way she could sit down. So she stood a few feet from Carly’s chair and made herself say that certain dangerous name. “It’s about Greg.”
    Carly put a hand to her slim throat. “What? Tell me? Is he…did he say something after all, on Monday? Did he tell you he’s been missing me? Did he hint that he wanted to try—?”
    â€œNo.” The word came out harsh, abrupt.
    Carly cringed and shrank back into her chair. “Oh. Oh, well, then…?”
    â€œI’m sorry.” Megan put up both hands in a placating gesture. “I didn’t mean to be so curt.”
    â€œIt’s okay. But…oh, Megan. What did he say? ”
    Lord. Where to start? How to tell it? “He, um…” She decided she’d better just lay it out there. “He asked me out.”
    Carly made a tight, strangled sound. Her face went chalky-pale. “I…excuse me?”
    â€œHe asked me out. I, um, turned him down. But I didn’t want to turn him down. I’m very attracted to him. I didn’t expect that, to be so attracted. And I never in a million years thought that he’d be attracted to me. But, well, he is. He said so. And he, um, well, did you know that he owns a house right here in Rosewood?”
    Carly was staring at her as if she’d just committed murder—or worse. “I don’t… A house?”
    â€œYes. It’s a few blocks away from here. It’s empty now, but he says he really does like Rosewood and he’s hoping someday to move back here.”
    â€œA house? What are you talking about? Greg doesn’t need a house. He has a house. Our house. This house…”
    Megan shut her eyes, sucked in a fortifying breathand made herself