Operation Cinderella by Hope Tarr Page A

sabotage the interview had failed—so far. If anything, the ketchup incident had leveled the playing field. Macie felt sure Mannon would have questioned her more closely if it hadn’t been for his daughter’s bad behavior. Far from grilling her, he seemed to be pulling out all the stops on the charm while keeping his gaze trained on the terrain above her shoulders. Once or twice, though, she thought she’d caught that deep blue gaze dipping. That he might be checking her out, not as a housekeeper or nanny but as a woman, should have offended her. It should have…only it didn’t. Then again, her whole purpose in coming here was to prove he wasn’t the squeaky clean conservative he portrayed. If showing him her chest hastened that happening, then she’d gladly spring for Samantha Mannon’s next piercing—and toss in a dragon tattoo.
    After paying the bill, Mannon looked at her and said, “I’d like to swing by the apartment and give you a quick tour, if that’s okay. That way you can check out the place for yourself and evaluate the perks.”
    “The perks?” she echoed, wondering what she’d missed.
    He nodded. “My TV flat screen is a full sixty-five inches and my cable package is deluxe. It includes the classic film channel, I swear it,” he added with a smile.
    She might be dressed like an angel but thinking of Mannon in terms of “inches” and “packages” had her demon heart beating double time. And though warmed by his reference to their unexpectedly delightful phone chat about old movies—Zach had refused to watch anything older than the eighties—it was clear there was only one answer she could give.
    “Sure, I’d like that. I turn into a pumpkin at five, though, when my train leaves.” She’d bought her return ticket in advance and not only because it was cheaper. Since launching Operation Cinderella, like that fairy-tale princess, she always had an eye on the exit.
    “Don’t worry,” he assured her, “I promise I’ll have you back in plenty of time.”
    They left the restaurant and headed to Union Station, where Mannon’s car was parked, Samantha straying ahead. Glad to be outside again, Macie savored the sunshine on her face. Unlike urban dense Manhattan, DC boasted ample open space as well as warm weather for much of the year.
    She’d fallen in love with the capital city when she’d first arrived as a freshman. Had it really been eight years? Biking along the Potomac, picnicking beneath the cherry blossoms, seeing the restored Lawrence of Arabia at Cleveland Park’s iconic Uptown Theater were fond if faraway memories.
    The light changed to “No Walk,” and they halted at the curb. Mannon asked, “You come back here much?”
    She turned and looked up at him. Even tall and wearing heels, she was shorter than he by several inches. “This is the first time I’ve been back since graduation,” she admitted. “I suppose I’m a little lost in nostalgia.”
    One corner of his mouth kicked up in a sexy half smile and his deep blue gaze fixed on her face. “You strike me as kind of young for nostalgia.”
    She caught his amused expression and tried to feel pissed-off, but it was no use. He was too freakin’ charming, too unflappably good-natured. “It depends on how you measure time, I guess.”
    His gaze lingered for a moment more, the unblinking brush of his blue eyes doing funny, fluttery things to her insides. “I reckon you have a point.”
    Reckon . Exactly when had she landed smack dab in the middle of a Bonanza re-run? But delivered in his slow, syrupy drawl, the quaint expression sounded not so much out-of-touch as sexy.
    Very sexy.
    Ahead, a scowling Samantha slouched at the fountain in front of the station, shifting from foot to foot in obvious impatience. A shadow crossed his face. “Sometimes I look at Sam, and I can’t figure out where the years have gone. Other times, I feel the weight of every day like it’s a year.”
    According to his website bio and