Plain Jane's Prince Charming

Dear Reader,

As I began work on Plain Jane’s Prince Charming, I couldn’t stop thinking about a little girl in my son’s preschool class who had been diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia (ALL). While her family navigated their way through an overwhelming new world of oncology, treatment protocols and hospitals, the children in the preschool made a hand-print quilt for their classmate and waited for her return. Friends sought ways to help—bringing meals, praying and helping with her sister, who was in kindergarten.

Thankfully, her leukemia went into remission and she returned to preschool, but her chemotherapy treatments continued. Eager to help others, her parents organized a local benefit for The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.

I was so moved by the courage of this family, and the love and support that flowed from their friends and the community, that they all wove their way into the backdrop of this story. Leukemia is a horrible disease, but it’s not without hope. And that’s what I wanted to show in this romance—hope, heart and a happily-ever-after.

Melissa McClone

P.S. If you would like to learn more about ALL, or how you can help, please visit The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society Web site at www.leukemia-lymphoma.org

MELISSA MCCLONE

With a degree in mechanical engineering from Stanford University, the last thing Melissa McClone ever thought she would be doing was writing romance novels. But analyzing engines for a major U.S. airline just couldn’t compete with her “happily-ever-afters.”

When she isn’t writing, caring for her three young children or doing laundry, Melissa loves to curl up on the couch with a cup of tea, her cats and a good book. She enjoys watching home decorating shows to get ideas for her house—a 1939 cottage that is slowly being renovated. Melissa lives in Lake Oswego, Oregon, with her own real-life hero husband, two daughters, a son, two lovable but oh-so-spoiled indoor cats and a no-longer-stray outdoor kitty that decided to call the garage home. Melissa loves to hear from her readers. You can write to her at P.O. Box 63, Lake Oswego, OR 97034, U.S.A.

Melissa McClone on Plain Jane’s Prince Charming:

“I raided my own wardrobe to dress my heroine Jane. Her red field coat, black long-sleeved T-shirt and tan corduroy pants came from my closet. I used to wear purple wire-rimmed eyeglasses, too, until one of my children broke the frames. Let’s hope Jane has better luck with hers!”

For Taylor Jackson

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

“MR. RYDER.” Standing in the foyer of Cyberworx’s state-of-the-art meeting facility, Jane Dawson couldn’t believe how steady her voice sounded when inside she felt like a coffee bean being ground into tiny bits. Still she managed to smile at the gray-haired businessman. “I would like to speak with you. For a minute. That is if you have time. Please.”

Jane winced.

So much for being smooth and collected, but this was different from speaking with customers while she managed the Hearth, a trendy coffee house in downtown Portland, Oregon. That job required patience, a smile and making sure the staff at the counter got the orders right, not cultured eloquence and grace.

“You want to speak to me?” In spite of his tailored suit, he looked more like a doting grandfather than the successful CEO of a multinational hi-tech company. “Chase…Ryder?”

He sounded surprised.

Of course, he did. People like Jane, college drop-outs who brewed coffee all day, didn’t usually approach people like him. And normally she wouldn’t. Especially when picking up after a catering job. On her day off.

But this wasn’t a normal situation.

She’d jumped at the chance to set up and pick up the breakfast meeting buffet for thirty guests at the corporate headquarters though catering jobs weren’t her usual responsibility. Her boss, Zoe, had offered her the opportunity to meet Chase Ryder, and Jane wasn’t going to blow it.

Act like you know what you’re doing. Saying. And think before you open your mouth. Zoe’s advice echoed in Jane’s head. She raised her chin. “Yes, I would, Mr. Ryder.”

His grin deepened the lines around his mouth and eyes. “I’m more than happy to speak with you, miss.”

Jane hadn’t felt this light, this hopeful in…well, years.

“Unfortunately,” he continued, “I’m not Chase Ryder.”

Her heart plummeted to her feet, as if two fifty-pound bags of Sumatra Gayo Mountain coffee beans had been dumped on each of her shoulders.

Not Chase Ryder.

How could she have made such a big mistake? Her assistant manager, Ally, had told Jane she couldn’t miss the Cyberworx’s head honcho. Tall, handsome and surrounded by people. She’d assumed the distinguished looking man had to be him. She’d assumed wrong.

The man stared at her. “Are you okay?”

No, she wasn’t okay. Jane needed Chase Ryder. She needed…a miracle. Or the fundraising benefit she wanted to throw was never going to happen.

“Miss?”

Whatever you do, do not cause a scene. Remembering Zoe’s final words made Jane force a smile. She wasn’t about to risk her job or future catering jobs for the Hearth over this.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Thank you for your time.”

“No, thank you.” The man chuckled. “You made my day thinking I was Chase.”

As the man sauntered away with a spring to his step, her shoulders slumped. She was in over her head and not qualified to do this, but she couldn’t get discouraged. She couldn’t give up. She still had to try.

For Emma. For sweet, four-year-old Emma who loved to play with baby dolls and still had months of treatment left, Jane wouldn’t give up. Maybe she could still find Chase Ryder. It was only ten o’clock in the morning. And if not…

She would write more letters and make additional phone calls. Somehow she would find sponsors for the fundraiser. Somehow she would help Emma’s mother, Michelle, tackle the mounting medical bills. Somehow Jane would pull this off.

If only she knew how.

Jane shuffled her way to the buffet table to pack up the equipment. Less than a dozen of the muffins, scones, cinnamon rolls and pastries remained on the trays, and she transferred them to a smaller plate to leave. All of the fruit cups were gone, except…

Oh, no.

One had spilled on the tile floor. Pieces of cantaloupe, grapes and pineapple had been squished, kicked and trampled on. The building’s janitorial staff cleaned after events, but Jane couldn’t leave a mess like this. She grabbed a towel near one of the coffee air pots, kneeled on the floor and wiped the sticky goo.

Nothing like a bit of fruit roadkill to finish off a lousy morning. She reached for a smushed strawberry. At least her day couldn’t get much worse.

“Excuse me,” a male voice said.

Still kneeling, Jane took in the shoes first. The black running shoes needed new laces, but looked comfortable. Just like his faded blue jeans. Her gaze traveled up the length of his calves to his thighs to his, um…

Her cheeks burned.

“You wanted to speak with me?” he asked.

What was she doing? She’d come to provide service. To beg a favor. Not stare at his…Jane jumped up. “I’m Ja…”

As she looked into his intense blue eyes, everything stopped. She couldn’t breathe let alone remember her name.

From the angular planes of his face to the slight cleft in his chin to his oh-so-kissable full lips, each feature fit perfectly together with his warm, bright eyes. His blond hair fell in loose curls and brushed the back of his grayish-blue dress shirt collar and navy sports coat. No man could be so naturally good-looking. There had to be a flaw, something more than a mole or two…

And then she found it—a jagged scar running through his right eyebrow. But rather than distracting from his looks it gave him an edge, a sexy, dangerous edge. She stepped back and bumped into the table. Her heart rate increased.

“Jay?” he asked.

“Jane.” Her voice sounded different, lower. She cleared her dry throat. “Jane Dawson.”

“Chase Ryder.”

Everything in her revolted. This was worse than before. He was too young, too handsome, too…male, like a cowboy who’d wandered into the wrong building. Wide shoulders and tall, six feet at least, as the top of her head came up only to his chin. Talk about being at a disadvantage.

“You wanted to speak with me?” he repeated.

His honey rich voice washed over her sending her temperature up at least another twenty degrees.

Don’t freak out. She could do this. So what if he was the most attractive man she’d ever seen? So what if he was richer than Midas himself? A family’s financial future depended on her. She couldn’t be derailed by a pretty—make that gorgeous—face.

“Yes.” Jane extended her arm only to realize she was holding the towel full of smashed fruit. She tossed the rag on the table and wiped her hand on her apron. “I did.”

He glanced at the watch he wore on his right wrist. “I’ve got three minutes.”

His terse response irked her, but what was she going to do? She had less than three minutes to get his help. “I’m organizing a fundraising event to assist paying for the medical expenses of a four-year-old fighting leukemia. The little girl is being raised by a single mother who works, but doesn’t have health insurance.”

She took a breath. “I sent two letters to your foundation about getting sponsorship for the event and left three voice mails, but never received any response. Since I was going to be here this morning, I thought I’d save another stamp and ask you myself though I realize your foundation isn’t associated with Cyberworx.”

He studied her, his appraising gaze missing nothing. Never had she felt so self-conscious and exposed in her freshly creased black twill pants, crisp white blouse and apron. She tucked a strand back into her ponytail.

“And you’re here for…?” he asked.

“The food.” She motioned to the name embroidered on her apron. “I’m…we catered the meeting. The Hearth. It’s a coffee house located in the Pearl district.”

“I’ve heard of it,” he acknowledged. “The Hearth is one of our caterers, but I don’t recognize you.”

“I usually work at the coffee house, not catering jobs. Except for today.” Jane wet her lips. “My, um, boss said I could talk to you as long as I wasn’t bothering you. Am I bothering you, Mr. Ryder?”

“It’s Chase, and no, you’re not bothering me.”

Thank goodness. Too bad she couldn’t say the same thing about him. Okay, he wasn’t exactly bothering her, just leaving her hot and bothered. He might not have the personality to match his good looks, but she would still need an iced cappuccino to cool her down once she finished here. “I know you’re busy and my time is almost up, but I’d be happy to send or e-mail more information about the fundraising event or buy you lunch so we could discuss it further.”

He raised a brow. “Buy me lunch?”

Lunch? Had she said that? More proof she wasn’t cut out for this sort of thing, but it was too late to back out now. “Lunch at the Hearth. I do get an employee discount, but we make a tasty…” Their deli sandwiches, soups and salads might not cut it for a man who could buy himself whatever he wanted. Think. Think. Think. “A tasty grilled panini sandwich.”

The corners of his mouth lifted. “You have a lot of confidence in your cook.”

A lot more than she had in herself. Zoe was going to kill her. Jane tilted her chin anyway. “It’s my recipe.”

His gaze met hers for a moment and a pleasurable shiver inched down her spine. “How does one-thirty sound?” he asked.

“Today?”

He nodded once, and a curly piece of hair fell across his forehead. She ignored the temptation to push the curl back into place.

“G-great.” And Jane supposed it would be. Once her heart rate returned to normal and she told Zoe that the Hearth was going to be serving grilled panini sandwiches at lunchtime today.

With seven minutes between meetings, Chase paused in front of his longtime assistant’s desk. As Amanda disconnected from her call, he picked up the rake from her miniature Zen garden.

Amanda, an incredibly young looking fifty-three, gave him an indulgent smile. “Don’t you have a call with Zurich?”

He checked the time. “In six and a half minutes.”

“I don’t want to keep you waiting.” Amanda removed her headset and brushed her hand through her short, red hair. “What do you need, boss?”

He carved symmetrical rows in the sand. “Cancel everything on my schedule from one o’clock on.”

She frowned. “Today?”

The same response as Jane Dawson except Amanda sounded disgusted, not surprised. He nodded.

“I should have known.”

“Known what?”

“That things have been going too well for it to continue. I’ve managed to pick up Drew from soccer practice every night this week.” She typed on her computer. No doubt, pulling up Chase’s schedule. “But if there’s another fire to put out—”

“No fire,” he interrupted, not wanting her to worry. Amanda’s job required her to be on call 24/7. He appreciated her dedication and hard work. “This is personal.”

“Personal as in a dentist appointment or personal as in deciding to climb Mount Hood again?” She raised an eyebrow. “Or could it be you have a date?”

Seeing the growing interest in Amanda’s hazel eyes, he scratched his right cheek. She’d worked for him for nine years and knew him better than most. She also had a tendency to mother him—the only negative trait he’d discovered. “I have an appointment.”

“With a woman.”

It wasn’t a question. “Yes, but it’s not what you think.”

Amanda grinned. “How do you know what I’m thinking, boss?”

“The twinkle in your eye gives you away every time.”

“I want to see the same twinkle in your eyes.” Ever since remarrying after being widowed six years ago, Amanda wanted everyone to pair up. Much to the dismay of Cyberworx’s single male employees. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy.”

“You need a woman.”

She sounded like his mom and sisters. He had it coming at him from all sides.

“I have plenty of women in my life.” Chase had everything he wanted. He didn’t need anything more. He drew a heart in the sand and crossed it out. “Just because you found ‘the one’ twice and remarried doesn’t mean the rest of us need to follow suit.” And ruin a good thing.

“Is she pretty?”

He glared at Amanda. Next time he would text message her and avoid another interrogation.

“Humor me, okay.”

Chase shrugged. “I guess she’s pretty.”

“You guess?”

He pictured Jane. “She’s got brown hair and wears purple wire-rimmed glasses. That’s what I remember about her.”

Not to mention her eyes. Or the way she wet her lips. But he wasn’t about to mention those things to Amanda.

This wasn’t a date. They were discussing a fundraiser. He liked assisting others, and Jane sounded like she needed help. Speaking of which… “Call P.J. and find out what happened to letters sent by Jane Dawson. She never received a reply to them or her telephone messages.”

“Will do, boss.”

“And try to find out before one o’clock.”

“Sure.” Amanda chuckled. “Don’t forget to polish your armor before you leave.”

“Very funny.”

“You have a tendency to rescue damsels in distress.”

“Jane’s not in distress,” Chase explained. “She needs help. And I—”

“Like to help people.”

“Exactly.” A local reporter had called Chase “the Robin Hood of the Rose City” who used a pen rather than an arrow to dole out funds to the less fortunate. Amanda had teased him about it ever since. “It’s not my fault I know—”

“Everything.”

“Very funny, Amanda.”

“But true.” She put on her headset. “One more thing before you go. What color of eyes does Jane Dawson have?”

“Um, green,” he recalled. “But not what you usually think of as green, like emerald. More like peridot, my mom’s birthstone.”

“That’s interesting.” A smug smile formed on Amanda’s lips. “Considering all you claimed to remember was the woman’s hair color and glasses.”

Busted. Amanda could see right through him. But in this case she was wrong. He only wanted to help Jane Dawson—the way he’d helped others. Her striking green eyes were simply his reward. Plus it wasn’t every day someone offered to buy him lunch. Employee discount or not.

“Get back to work or I’ll dock your pay.” He tossed the little rake back onto the sand.

“I’m salary not hourly.”

“True, but I’m still the boss.”

At the Hearth, Ally Michaels poured frothed nonfat milk into the steaming drink and placed the cup on the counter for the customer.

“Nonfat vanilla latte tall.” As the customer snatched the cup, Ally motioned to Kendra, the other barista, to take over the prep area and turned to Jane. “Do you know what you’re going to say to him?”

“I thought I’d start with hello.” Jane was in the process of trying to perfect three different panini recipes since she didn’t know what Chase might like. Not the easiest task with a one-thirty deadline looming.

Thank goodness Zoe had planned on adding the hot sandwiches to the menu next month, purchased the grill and received approval from the health department, or Jane’s momentary lapse of brain cells could have turned into a complete disaster. Of course, the day wasn’t over yet.

Jane tasted the pesto spread. Still not right. Maybe more pine nuts.

“Hello? Not good enough.” Ally pursed her glossed lips. “This isn’t some random customer. It’s Chase Ryder.”

She said the name with an odd mixture of awe and wistfulness. Unfortunately Jane understood completely. She felt as if she was thirteen again and crushing on the newest hit boy band. Ridiculous, yes. Especially after seeing Chase Ryder’s less than stellar, time-obsessed personality. But Jane hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. His eyes, his smile, his voice, his lips.

Full lips meant for slow, lingering kisses. All over.

Flutters overtook her stomach. Tingles, too.

She couldn’t remember feeling this way before. Definitely not with her ex-boyfriend, Mark Jeffreys. Of course she had probably just forgotten what attraction felt like. There hadn’t been room in her life for romance lately. Not with her job, classes and helping out with Emma.

And that hadn’t been such a bad thing.

Except Jane liked how thinking about Chase made her feel. His aura of confidence appealed to her. Maybe she could get to know him other better and…

What was she thinking? She couldn’t get lost in some daydream. This wasn’t about her. Or Chase. Or what kissing him would be like. This was about Emma’s fundraiser. Jane squared her shoulders. “He’s just a man, Ally.”

“And Mozart was just a piano player.” Ally snickered. “Come on, Jane. Didn’t you find Chase Ryder attractive?”

“I’m not interested in his looks, only his money.”

“I still can’t believe you thought he was some old guy.”

“Based on your description—”

“But everyone knows what Chase Ryder looks like. He’s one of the most eligible bachelors in town.” Ally wiped down the counter. “Don’t you read the social page in the Sunday paper?”

“I don’t have time for the paper.” She didn’t have time for anything, not even putting on this benefit. Her hands trembled, and she flexed her fingers.

Ally studied her. “This is important to you, right?”

Jane couldn’t express what the meeting meant so she nodded.

“Maybe you should put on some makeup and do something with your hair.”

“Too plain?” She had grown up being called “plain Jane.” Nothing had changed once she became an adult. She never had enough time or money to worry about her hair, makeup or clothing.

“You’re not plain, Jane,” Ally said. “You’ve got the girl-next-door, fresh face look down, but you need to grab Chase Ryder’s attention and make him notice you.”

“We’re having lunch together. He can’t help but notice me.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Ally yanked a pink tube from her pant’s pocket. “At least use this.”

Jane caught Ally’s toss. “Lip gloss? Bubble gum flavor?”

“It plumps your lips, too. You never know if he’ll kiss you goodbye.” Ally arched a brow. “With those lips, how could he not be a good kisser?”

“This is a business meeting, not…”

Forget it. No use arguing with man-magnet Ally. Jane concentrated on making the sandwiches instead. Too much was at stake to be distracted. She didn’t want to think about Chase Ryder. She definitely didn’t want to think about his lips or kissing him. Especially kissing him.

And that’s when it hit her.

Garlic. The pesto spread needed more garlic.

Lots and lots of garlic.

Now she wouldn’t dare be tempted by any kisses. Real or in her imagination.

Chase had never been to the Hearth. Amanda, however, swore by their mochas and pastries, which was how the coffee house had come to provide breakfast at morning meetings. He deposited coins in the meter, stuck the parking receipt on his window and walked inside.

The smell of brewing coffee, and freshly ground beans hit him first. No different from the other coffee houses in Portland, but the scent of garlic and basil lingering in the air surprised him.

And he wasn’t often surprised. He’d succeeded in business by preparing for the unexpected. He didn’t believe in having too much information.

On his way to the counter, Chased passed customers sitting at small wood tables. A man typed on his laptop. A woman read a book. A couple paged through the newspaper. A young man with a ponytail and wearing a familiar looking apron cleared cups and plates from one of the few empty tables. No one occupied the big, comfy looking leather chairs near the stone fireplace. The hearth, no doubt.

As a customer grabbed his drink from the counter, Chase read the menu on the chalkboard hanging on the wall behind the counter. He didn’t see Jane, only an attractive young woman with long blond hair, a diamond stud in her nose and dangling beaded earrings.

“Excuse me,” he said.

She—Ally according to the nametag on her apron—poured cocoa powder into a jar and didn’t glance his way. “What can I get for you?”

“Jane Dawson.”

Her head jerked up and cocoa spilled on the counter. “I’ll be right back.”

She disappeared through a pair of swinging doors. A moment later, Jane rushed out.

“Hello, Mr. Ryder, I mean, Chase.” She sounded breathless. Pink tinged her cheeks. “T-thanks for coming.”

She looked younger, vulnerable and he wanted to erase her apprehension. But knowing what he knew, that wasn’t going to be easy. “You’re welcome.”

“The menu is up there.” She motioned to the chalkboard he’d already read. “I’ll take your order and we can sit down.”

“I’d like the prosciutto and provolone panini and an iced cappuccino.”

Jane’s brows drew together. “Iced cappuccino?”

He nodded. “My favorite drink when it’s warm outside.”

“Mine, too.” She pointed to an empty table. “Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll be right there.”