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motive,then Zach’s ongoing work-versus home dilemma might solve itself.
    Feeling better now that he’d decided on his modus operandi, he booted up his laptop and opened his email account.
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    It was almost 11:30 before Zach—she couldn’t keep referring to him as Zachary Prince, even in her own mind—called Georgie into his office. She kept telling herself to keep an open mind, but if she was being honest with herself, she’d admit she’d pretty much formed her opinion of him already. Maybe he was as good as Alex had said he was, but his work habits told another story.
    He stood as she walked into the office. Okay, so he’d been taught nice manners and they extended into the workplace, but as far as Georgie was concerned, standing for her was another strike against him, because all the gesture meant was that he thought of her more as a woman than a colleague.
    â€œI understand you got here on Friday,” he said as they both took a seat—him behind the desk, her in one of the two chairs flanking it. There was also a long leather sofa along the side wall and several framed watercolors hanging above it.
    â€œYes.”
    He must have noticed her looking at the watercolors, because he said, “My sister painted those.”
    â€œThey’re lovely.” And they were. Georgie would have liked to look at them more closely.
    â€œThank you,” he said, still in that rather formal voice. “So, have you been to the city before?”
    â€œNo, this is my first time.”
    â€œWhat do you think of it?”
    â€œSo far, I like it.”
    â€œHow’s the apartment?”
    â€œIt’s very nice, thank you.” Georgie hesitated, then added, “I appreciate that you stocked the pantry and refrigerator for me.”
    â€œThat was Deborah’s doing.”
    â€œI’ll have to thank her, then.”
    For a few minutes, they talked about the sights she’d taken in over the weekend, and just as Georgie was beginning to think he’d never get down to business, he said, “Shall we get started?”
    I thought you’d never ask. “I’m ready anytime you are.”
    He picked up a large blue bound notebook, and as he did so, Georgie noticed the two framed photos on his desk, which the notebook had partially hidden. Without staring, she could see that one was a photo of three children—one of whom looked quite young—and the other was of a very pretty dark-haired woman.
    So maybe he wasn’t a playboy type? Of course, the kids could be nieces and nephews. The woman could be the sister he’d mentioned, but she couldn’t imagine any man keeping his sister’s framed picture on his desk.
    Even though she’d thought she wasn’t obviously looking, she must have been, because he said, “My family.”
    Georgie’s eyes met his. “Nice looking.”
    â€œThank you.”
    He looked away, but not before she caught a glimpse of some emotion in his eyes she didn’t quite understand. It almost looked like sadness. Surely not. But as quickly as it had appeared, the emotion, whatever it was, had disappeared.
    For the next hour they pored over the various grantsthe eastern division of the foundation had pledged in the past quarter and the projects they were in the process of considering, plus a list of possible beneficiaries that had had preliminary vetting but which needed in-depth research and investigation. Zach also handed her a stack of grant applications that hadn’t been vetted at all. “We call these our slush pile,” he said.
    As Zach talked, giving her background material and status reports, Georgie had to admit he seemed to know his business. He answered all her questions thoroughly and only once had to refer to another source to give her the information she requested. After a while, he seemed to warm up to her, and once or twice he actually smiled.
    Good heavens, that smile