The Playboy's Protegee. Michele Dunaway

you think Megan MacGregor is a sexual harassment case waiting to happen?” Uh-oh. That tone again.

      Harry squared his chin. He knew Megan’s type, but he should have kept his mouth shut about his opinion of her kind. Too late now. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

      “Interesting,” Grandpa Joe said. He tilted his head as if he was contemplating a new electronics purchase. “You may be right. I’ll have to see what I can do. I have just about everyone else assigned, so it might take some juggling to move people around. If it won’t work out, you just won’t mentor. Let me get back to you.” And with that said, Grandpa Joe left the office.

      Harry blinked. Just like that, Grandpa Joe was really gone. Had Harry missed something? Where had the night-and-day change in his grandfather come from?

      Or had there really been a change? Harry leaned forward. The leather chair thumped his back as he picked up the spiral-bound Jacobsen Stars binder. He thumbed through it, skimming the highlights of the program.

      He tossed the binder down. The program was like handing Megan MacGregor the keys to the Jacobsen kingdom. Couldn’t his grandfather see through her? She was a piranha both in business and her personal life. Although he hated listening to office gossip, according to the grapevine, she’d landed a man twenty years her senior for her fiancé. He’d been seen in her office.

      Even the former floor receptionist, before she’d left, had blasted Megan MacGregor. No, Harry didn’t want anything to do with her. She was the type that would stop at nothing to get what she wanted, even if it meant crawling over his dead body to do it.

      The real claw was that Grandpa Joe obviously adored Megan. He’d discovered her, so to speak, and had personally overseen her Jacobsen career. Megan had replaced Darci. That meant Harry really needed to be on his toes. He couldn’t let his guard down, especially when Megan MacGregor was involved.

      FOR A MONDAY, it wasn’t really that bad of a day. Megan MacGregor looked around, satisfied. Work that she’d thought would take two days had been miraculously finished in one. Not yet three in the afternoon, Megan discovered she could even see the bottom of her wood inbox.

      She slid a report into an interoffice-mail envelope and tossed it into her outbox. A creature of habit, she’d clear that out later, around four.

      “Can I come in?”

      Megan glanced up, seeing none other than Joe Jacobsen, the company founder and CEO standing at the entrance to her cubicle. A small knot of nerves clenched and she took a breath to calm herself.

      “Why, of course, Mr. Jacobsen. I was just finishing up the Montana report.”

      “Good, good. Come sit down, and call me Joe. Everyone does.”

      Everyone perhaps but her. Megan tried not to appear too flustered as he took a seat at the small table, which was really no bigger than a card table.

      “So I bet you wonder what brings me by,” he said.

      Megan folded her hands into her lap to keep them from twitching. “Actually, I’ll admit that I do, although in the year that I’ve worked for you, I’ve discovered you do wander your company and pop in on people all the time.”

      “Keeps them on their toes and I learn more that way,” Joe said. “Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad, but it keeps the company humming.”

      “It’s a good company,” she said, mentally kicking herself for how lame and obvious that sounded. Joe Jacobsen didn’t seem to notice.

      “Of course it’s a good company. I’ve been building it all my life. Now, as my delightful wife, Henrietta, reminds me, it’s time to start looking toward the future. Not that I’m planning on retiring, mind you. I’m nowhere ready to do that. But what I am doing is starting a new program called Jacobsen Stars. Let me tell you about it.”

      Megan listened in fascination as he began to outline the entire program. A flicker of hope began inside her, and bloomed fully as he said the magic words. “I’m going around personally inviting people to participate in the program. You, Megan, have been chosen. What do you say?”

      “Yes,” she managed to stammer out. Then her voice became stronger. “I absolutely would be delighted to participate.”

      And she was. This was the opportunity of a lifetime, the type of opportunity she’d been slaving for when she’d put in all those years in night school earning her MBA. Her mother and Bill would be so proud.

      “Of course, there is a little glitch,” Joe said. His blue-eyed gaze caught hers, and something about the tone of his words brought her back down a little to reality.

      “A glitch?”

      “A glitch,” Joe repeated. “Right now you are without a mentor.” He sighed and ran his finger thoughtfully against his white beard. “With your credentials and talent I want someone perfect, someone who can bring out the best in you. And I’ve found just that person.”

      Lyle McKaskill, Megan thought. The fifty-year-old man was a wizard in the company, and she’d love to pick his brain. He’d forgotten more than she’d ever learned. Maybe the glitch was that Lyle’s wife was having surgery in a month. Lyle would be taking family medical leave to be with her.

      Grandpa Joe leaned back in the chair and folded his hands. “But don’t despair. I have to admit I did spring the Jacobsen Stars program on him. Thus I expect that my grandson Harry will see the light in a day or two and agree to be your mentor.”

      “Harry?” The word, said in absolute appalled disbelief, came forth from her lips before she could bite it back. Please let her have heard Joe Jacobsen wrong.

      Not Harry Sanders. Harry hated her. He’d never seemed to like her, and ever since that meeting a year ago—when she’d questioned the validity and rationale of his ideas—he’d made it perfectly clear that he’d fire her the first moment he could.

      “Harry,” Joe confirmed without noticing Megan’s stunned silence. “Now don’t take it personally, but Harry turned down the idea of being your mentor. It has nothing to do with you; he’s just a little bogged down with this New York merger, the chain of Evie’s Pancake Houses that we’re bringing under the Jacobsen Enterprises umbrella.”

      Joe paused before continuing. “Harry has agreed to think about it, but if he can’t work you in, then I’m going to find a replacement mentor for you. However, let me be frank, I really don’t want to consider that as an option except as a last resort. I’ve learned in business that when you know a decision you’ve made is the right one, you stick with it.”

      Megan forced the smile to remain on her face. So there it was. Joe Jacobsen had handpicked his grandson Harry Sanders to be her mentor. The joy that had originally seeped through Megan had ebbed fully. Then she drew herself up. Lemonade from lemons. If Harry wouldn’t do it, Joe Jacobsen was prepared to find her another mentor. She’d hope for that.

      “Anyhow, the program won’t officially start for two weeks. That should give me plenty of time to convince Harry to change his mind. You two could really benefit each other.”

      Right. Of course they could. The only benefit Megan could see for Harry is that he could be one step closer to finding reasons to have her fired. As for her, the benefit to her career could be summed up in four words: nada, nothing, zero, zilch.

      Joe reached for Megan’s personal copy of the Montana report that she’d placed earlier in the middle of her table. “You know, I thought of sending Harry to Montana once,” Joe said. “Then I wondered what he’d do with all that fresh air. He’s such a city boy. Never wants to stray far from home. But he loves this company, I’ll say that for him. Don’t worry, Megan. He’ll just need a little convincing to be your mentor, that’s all. In fact, why don’t you pay him a little visit today? He never leaves until five, and perhaps if you go personally and tell him how excited you are about having him mentor you, he’ll understand how important I think this is.”

      Megan