nice to meet you.” Margot held out her hand.
Bianca shook it. “It’s nice to be met.” Her smile broadened. “I’m a fairly hopeless case, as I’m sure Alec has told you. I’m impulsive and reckless and not the sort of person who should be marrying a professional diplomat. But here we are, trying to make it work.” Her smile faltered. “It’s just that Wesley is all I’ve ever wanted. I love him and I don’t want to be the reason he loses his job.”
For a second her eyes were no longer bright but instead filled with fear and uncertainty. Margot studied the flash of emotions and saw the exact moment self-preservation kicked in.
“Imagine falling in love at my age!” she said with a laugh. “What a ridiculous thing. Until now I’ve only really loved one person and that’s Alec.” She smiled up at him. “I’m sure he’ll be delighted to have someone else share that burden.”
Margot nearly felt dizzy from the emotional ping-pong. Bianca had shifted from the odd comment about Alec’s sex life to a flash of honest vulnerability with a quick return to fact, all couched in a protective shield of humor. There was a lot more going on here than the desire to learn which fork to use.
One of the advantages of being socially awkward—not that there were many—was the ability to recognize it in others. Bianca might be more beautiful than 99 percent of the population, but that didn’t mean she was comfortable in her own skin. She was obviously afraid of disappointing everyone she cared about. Perhaps she thought she’d been doing it for years. How intriguing, Margot thought, suddenly itching to get on her computer and begin working on her development program.
Alec squeezed his mother’s hand. “I just want you to be happy.”
Bianca flashed him a smile that was brighter than the sun Alec had mentioned earlier, then turned to Margot. “Shall we have a little talk to see if we suit?”
“I’d like that.”
Bianca led her to the table in the center of the paved garden while Alec retreated to the house. When they were seated across from each other, Bianca studied her for a second.
“You don’t need to wear glasses, do you?”
The question surprised Margot. “No. How did you know?”
“I’ve worn prop glasses before. Why do you do it? No, don’t tell me. Let me guess.” Her gaze turned probing. “You want to look smart. Oh, because you’re pretty. You must be very serious about your work. I never was. I liked acting but I was never passionate about it.” The mega smile returned. “However, they do pay me a ridiculous amount of money for it, so why not?”
One shoulder rose and lowered. “Tell me. Can I be fixed? Do you have the skills to make me just like everyone else?”
Margot saw the trap in the question immediately. She sensed that Bianca was testing her in a hundred different ways and wasn’t sure what that meant. If she was the one who had requested assistance, then surely she was motivated to change. Yet the way she phrased the question...
“I can certainly teach you how to behave in formal occasions, whether social or political,” she began. “As for fixing you, I’m afraid that’s not my job. I want to make you feel comfortable so everyone can get to know who you really are.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Bianca said quickly. “They couldn’t handle the real me.”
“Then the you you want them to know.”
“What’s your background?”
Margot smiled. “I started in hotel management. I received training to work with our international clients and loved it. I was recruited by my current employer and have moved to helping people deal with our ever-shrinking world.”
“Hmm, yes, that’s fascinating, but what’s your background? Where are you from? Who raised you?”
A different question than “tell me about your parents.” It was almost as if Bianca knew there hadn’t been parents. “My maternal great-grandmother,” she said slowly. “She owned a beauty and charm school for nearly fifty years. She trained pageant contestants.”
“Were you in pageants?”
“No. I’m lacking certain skills.” Like the ability to speak to a group. Margot still remembered the first time Francine had made her get up on the mock stage they had in the workroom and address the group. She’d barely taken her place when she’d projectile vomited and promptly fainted. It had been a fairly quick end to any hopes her great-grandmother had had about Margot taking the crown.
Margot had forced herself to overcome her deficiency and could now give a decent lecture, but she would never be a natural up on stage. Not that she’d ever aspired to be a beauty queen. She just wanted to do her job and live her life. Oh, and not be dumb about men, because she’d already done that enough already.
“Alec picked you,” Bianca said. “He looked over all the people at your agency and he picked you. Now I see why.”
Did she? Margot hadn’t known he’d been the one to make the decision. Why her? She wasn’t an obvious choice, was she?
“Can you do it?” Bianca asked before Margot could question her statement. “Can you help me be who I need to be so I don’t embarrass Wesley?”
“Yes.”
“You promise?”
Margot leaned forward. “I will use every technique I have, and if those don’t work, I will create new ones. I will work tirelessly to get you to a place where you are comfortable in Wesley’s world.”
“That’s not a promise.”
“I know. I don’t make promises when I can’t be sure of the outcome.”
Bianca looked away. “I make promises all the time. I rarely keep them. It’s just that in the moment, I want the person to be happy.”
“And later?”
Bianca shrugged again. “They always forgive me. Even Alec.” The smile returned. “All right. Let’s do this. Alec thinks I need about two months of instruction. You’ll have to move in here. There are a few guest rooms upstairs. I have the big one and I’m sorry but I’m not moving out for you.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.” Margot looked at her potential client. “Bianca, I don’t live that far from here. I could easily drive over—”
“No. You have to stay here. It’ll be like we’re on location. Alec doesn’t care. He rarely looks up from his work to notice anything. The house is beautiful. You’ll love it and I’d feel better if you were close.”
Margot nodded slowly. She’d lived in before. She didn’t prefer it but when the client insisted, she agreed.
“As you wish. I’ll send over the contract as soon as I get back to the office. Once it’s signed and you’ve paid the retainer, I’ll be in touch to discuss a start date.”
“Monday!” Bianca sprang to her feet and raced around the table. She crouched in front of Margot, took both her hands and smiled. “We’ll
