OPERATION BABE-MAGNET / OPERATION BEAUTY
Page 17
"But now that I think about it," Lauren said slowly, "maybe it's not such a bad idea."
He looked up at her. "What?"
"Becoming roommates. We could both save on rent that way. As well as utilities. It's always cheaper for two to live together instead of one. And my apartment has an extra bedroom. If you're interested, that is."
He froze. "You want me to move in with you?"
"It was just an idea. If you're uncomfortable with it…"
"No. It's just that I … never considered the possibility." Against his better judgment, Sam found himself considering it now. Living with Lauren McBride would be twenty-four hours of pure bliss—if he was living with her as a man. But posing as a woman presented all kinds of problems. He'd have to play the role of Philomena both day and night. Take extra care to keep her from discovering his secret. Both of his secrets. Still…
"I think we could have a lot of fun together."
He closed his eyes, trying not to get sucked into the myriad fantasies clamoring at his brain. Maybe moving in with Lauren wasn't such a bad idea. It would give him complete access to one of the top saleswomen of Ladybug Lingerie. Cooper's words reverberated in his brain: Find a way to get close to your mentor and you'll find the Seductress bra.
Living with Lauren would certainly give him an advantage in his mission. He might even be able to intercept the Seductress package when it arrived at her apartment. He could let the boys at Midnight Lace have a look, then return it to her without anyone being the wiser. And if his moving in with Lauren could keep that creep Chuck McBride away from her, so much the better.
"Just think about it, Philomena," Lauren said.
"I'll do it."
Her eyes lit up. "Really?"
Sam nodded, ignoring the warning bells going off in his head. "When do you want me to move in?"
"As soon as possible. Where are you living now?"
"I have a small apartment just west of here," he replied honestly. "On Cambridge Street
."
"Will you have trouble getting out of your lease?"
He shook his head, knowing he wouldn't even try. It might help to have a refuge to take a break from his Philomena role once in a while. "It won't be a problem."
"Then why not move in today? We don't have any parties scheduled. I've got an afternoon class, but we can go have a copy of the apartment key made right now. This will be great." Then she reached out and hugged him.
Sam's whole body tightened at the contact. The rational side of his brain worried that she might be able to tell a few parts of him were artificial. The other side of his brain relished the feel of her soft body against him. The tantalizing scent of her hair and skin. The caress of her warm breath on his neck.
The impulsive hug was over in an instant. But it felt like an eternity to Sam. And somehow he knew the next few weeks wouldn't go any faster. She'd opened the door to purgatory and he'd rushed right in.
He just had to make sure he could get back out in one piece.
Sam stepped out of the shower in his apartment, ruffling the towel through his short hair. His head still itched from wearing that wig and it felt good to clean all that makeup off his skin.
Of course, he'd have to put it all back on in a few hours. Lauren's class ended at six o'clock. But he intended to enjoy the respite by spending the afternoon as a man. He threw on some jeans and an old gray T-shirt, then dragged his suitcases out of the hall closet and tossed them onto the sofa.
The clothes Amy and Marco had sent home with him were still hanging in the plastic suit bag, so packing wouldn't take long. The only question was what to take with him to Lauren's place.
He was trying to decide whether to throw in his barbells when a knock sounded on the front door. Grateful for the interruption, and even more grateful that he wasn't in his Philomena getup, he opened it to see eleven-year-old Travis Hastings standing on the other side.
Sam was involved with the Big Brother program in Pittsburgh and Travis had been assigned as his little brother last year. He lived only a couple of blocks away and spent a lot of his time at Sam's place. With his father in state prison and his mother working two jobs, the kid didn't have a lot of supervision.
Travis looked at the open suitcases. "Are you going somewhere?"
Sam wanted to kick himself for not considering Travis when he'd made his decision to move in with Lauren. Four weeks was a long time when you were eleven years old. "Yeah, I got a new job. But it's only temporary. I'll be gone for about a month."
"Oh." Travis tossed his backpack on the floor, then headed for the kitchen. "What kind of job?"
"Actually, it's kind of like detective work. I'm going undercover."
"Cool." Travis returned to the living room with a soda in his hand. "So I won't see you for a while?"
"Afraid not, buddy. But you've got my pager number, right? So you can reach me anytime you need to talk. Day or night, okay?"
"Okay." Travis took a gulp of his soda, then wiped his hand across the back of his mouth. "Do you want to read my report on Guatemala? I got an A plus on it."
"Why don't you read it to me while I pack?"
Sam smiled to himself as Travis dug his report out of his backpack. A year ago the kid wouldn't have even known how to pronounce Guatemala. But ever since Sam had hired a tutor for him, Travis's grades had risen as steadily as his self-confidence.
"Ready?" Travis asked, perching himself on the arm of the recliner.
"Fire away." Sam sat down to listen, giving the boy his full attention. Travis didn't get enough attention at home, although his mother did her best. He'd have to find a way to make some time for the kid this month, despite the challenges of his new job.
Travis finished reading the report, then beamed. "Whadda you think?"
"Sounds like an A-plus report to me. Good job." He gave him a high five, then turned back to his suitcases, wondering how much more he could fit in. Amy and Marco had given him an extra gel bra, five pairs of nylons and a plethora of cosmetics in the handy economy-size bottles.
"Can I check your messages?" Travis asked, walking over to the telephone.
"Sure. Do you remember the secret code?"
"Duh." Travis rolled his eyes. "It's 1111. How hard is that to remember?"
Sam grinned. "Just checking." Then he snapped one of the suitcases shut while Travis dialed the number to access the automated answering machine. A moment later, he grabbed a pencil and notepad off the end table and started scribbling down messages.
"Anything important?" Sam asked, after Travis hung up the receiver.
He tore off the top page of the pad. "You have seven messages. Three are from some girl named Mariah, who said she wants you to call her back. One is from a stupid salesman, who said he'll call you back. One is from a girl named Zoe, who wants to show you her new black negligee."
Travis crinkled his brow. "What the heck is a negligee?"
"I'll tell you in a few years."
Travis rolled his eyes again, then turned back to the notepaper. "The last two are from girls, too. One named Jessica something and the other one is Rachel. Both of them giggled a lot."
"Some girls tend to do that."
Travis shook his head in disgust. "Don't you get tired of girls calling you all the time, Sam?"
"Are you kidding? I like girls. You will, too, Travis. Probably sooner than you think."
The boy looked skeptical. "I don't know. There's this one girl in my class that I can't stand. She won't leave me alone, but she's too chicken to fight me."
Sam turned, his tone firm. "Hey, I don't want you hitting any girls. Understand?"
"Okay." Travis shrugged, stuffing the notepaper in his pocket. "If you say so. But she really bugs me.
Sam walked into the kitchen to grab a soda. He popped the tab, then took a long drink as he moved back into the living room. "Maybe this girl likes you, Travis. Did you ever think of that possibility?"
"I sure hope not. She's one of those gigglers."
Travis wandered over to the open suitcase. Then he pulled out the size 40D gel bra, holding it by one strap. "Hey, Sam, what's this thing doing in your suitcase?"
"Uh … it belongs to a friend." Sam took the bra from him, tossed it back into the suitcase, then snapped it shut.
"Is this a new girlfriend or an old girlfriend?"
"Neither," Sam replied, wishing Travis wasn't quite so inquisitive today. Now seemed like a good time to change the subject. "Although I did meet someone new today."
Travis took a swig of his soda. "What's her name?"
Sam's brow furrowed. "What makes you think it's a girl?"
Travis rolled his eyes. "Duh."
"Well, her name is Lauren. And she's very nice."
"Do you like her?"
"Yes. I like her a lot." It surprised him how much he liked her. And bothered him more than little that he had to deceive her to do his job.
"So is she pretty?" Travis asked.
"Beautiful. And smart, too. She's even taking some college classes." He glanced at his watch. "And speaking of classes, don't you have appointment with your tutor in less than fifteen minutes?"
"I'm on my way." Travis heaved a pained sigh. He grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. "But just answer me one more question."
"Okay. Just one."
"Are you going to marry this Lauren girl?"
An ache formed deep inside his chest. Travis had asked this question before. It had taken Sam awhile to figure out that the boy feared he would move away and forget all about him. "Naw." He reached out and ruffled Travis's hair. "You know I'm not the marrying type."
"Yeah." Travis grinned. "You like to play the field."
"That's right." Sam showed him out the door, not admitting the real reason for his perennial bachelorhood. He was a playboy more out of necessity than choice. He knew if he allowed a woman to grow close to him, sooner or later she'd find him lacking. His own mother, the only person in his family who knew his secret, hadn't even been able to hide her disgust. So marriage and a family simply weren't an option for Sam T. Kane. It was a dream that could never come true. No matter how much he might want it to.
* * *
6
« ^ »
Sam carried the last suitcase into the spare bedroom of Lauren's apartment. He dropped it in the corner, then stepped back to review his progress. Hauling the bed up here had taken awhile. It was tough to maneuver a mattress and bedsprings up three flights of stairs by yourself. Especially when the Indian summer they were enjoying made it uncomfortably warm both inside and out.
But the rest of the move had gone smoothly and fairly quickly. Since he only planned to stay for a month, he'd left most of his belongings at home. The other half fit fairly well into her apartment. He had to give Lauren credit, she certainly knew how to make her place feel cozy. The walls were painted a warm beige, the same color as the carpet. The worn, secondhand furniture in the living room was concealed with stylish throw covers and adorned with an array of bright throw pillows. One look told him she lived on a shoestring budget. But she'd certainly made the most of it.
He wiped the sweat off his brow, then checked his watch. He still had time left to go back to his apartment, transform himself into Philomena, then get back here before Lauren returned from her class.
Sam headed for the front door, pulling off his damp T-shirt and wiping the perspiration from his neck and chest. Maybe he'd even have time for a beer before he tackled that gel bra again. He opened the door, then heard a stifled scream. He blinked, then found himself staring straight at Lauren.
She took a step back, her eyes blazing. "Who are you? And what are you doing in my apartment?"
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Why the hell had he chanced coming over here without a dress on? At least she didn't seem to notice his resemblance to Philomena. By the look on her face, she thought he was an intruder.
"I'm Sam," he said at last. "Sam Kane. My cousin asked me to help her move in today."
Lauren's gaze flicked down to his bare chest, then back up again. "Cousin? You mean Philomena?"
He nodded. "That's right. She's back at her apartment, making sure she didn't miss anything."
"Oh." A bright pink blush stained her cheeks. "I'm sorry I screamed like that. I didn't know what to think when I saw a strange man inside my apartment."
"I don't blame you. A girl can't be too careful. Especially a girl as pretty as you."
"Well … thank you." She walked inside, brushing by him, and carefully placed her purse and books on a bench by the door.
"Philomena told me you had a class this afternoon," Sam said, not quite ready to leave. Lauren acted differently around him as a man than she did when he was playing a woman. But he couldn't quite put his finger on her behavior. Irritated? Guarded? Apprehensive?
"The professor had a family emergency," she replied, her back to him, "so the class was cut short."
He folded his arms and leaned against the door frame. "So now you get some time to play."
"Time to work, anyway." She turned and looked toward the clock. "Do you think Philomena will get here soon?"
"It will probably be awhile yet." He nodded toward the sofa. "Do you mind if I sit down? Hauling all her stuff up here wore me out."
Lauren hesitated. "Sure. Go ahead."
He could tell she wanted to tell him no, but was too polite to do so. Was it because she didn't like him? Or just the opposite? Sam sensed she'd been burned by her jerk of an ex-husband. Was that the reason she was acting so skittish around him?
They sat in silence for several moments until Lauren finally asked him a question. "May I get you something to drink?"
"A beer would be great if you have one."
"I'm not sure," she said, turning toward the kitchen. "I'll check."
Sam watched her leave the room, definitely feeling a chill in the air. He wondered what would it take to produce a thaw.
She walked back into the living room, carrying a bottle in her hand. "I didn't have any beer. But one of my friends left some wine coolers here. It's strawberry-banana."
His stomach lurched, but he smiled and took it from her. "This will be fine. Thanks."
She sat down in the chair across from him, clenching her hands in her lap. "So are you and Philomena close?"
"Closer than you can imagine," Sam said, twisting off the bottle cap.
"That's nice."
Another uncomfortable silence descended between them. Lauren looked at the floor, the ceiling, and her watch, but rarely at him.
He took a long drink of the wine cooler, wishing he could think of some way to put her at ease. He normally didn't have this problem with women. But Lauren was different. He'd known that from the moment he'd met her.
She stood up. "Will you please excuse me? I have a few phone calls to make. Do you mind showing yourself out when you're ready to leave?"
So much for hospitality. "Sure. Go ahead."
She escaped down the hallway, leaving Sam alone in the living room to wonder what had just happened. He usually didn't have this kind of affect on women. But Lauren McBride had taken one look at him and practically run screaming out of the room.
He drained the wine cooler, then stood up to leave. Somehow, some way he was going to find out the reason.
And he knew just the person to do it.
Lauren sat at the desk in her bedroom, feeling like the world's biggest fool. She'd heard the front door open and close more than an hour ago, so she knew Philomena's cousin had left. Why wouldn't he? After all, she'd acted like an escapee from a lunatic asylum.
She pushed the order book out of the way and buried her face in her hands. Why did she always freeze up like that around a good-looking man? Good-looking? That didn't even begin to describe Sam Kane. He was handsome. Charming. Incredibly sexy.
A sound emanating from outside her room told her someone was in the apartment. Philomena.
She lifted her head as she heard the woman
call out. "Anybody home?"
Taking a deep breath, Lauren rose out of her chair, then walked out into the hallway. Philomena stood in the kitchen, two bulging grocery sacks filling her arms. Now that Lauren had met Sam Kane, she found the resemblance between the two cousins striking.
"Hello, there," Philomena said, setting the grocery sacks onto the counter. "I picked up a few things at the store on my way over. How does paella sound for supper?"
"Wonderful." Lauren stood in the doorway to the kitchen. "But I'd better warn you—my talent in the kitchen doesn't go further than boiling water."
"No problem," Philomena replied, neatly folding the empty grocery sack. "I love to cook."
Lauren smiled. "Then this arrangement may work out even better than I thought. You can cook, I'll handle the dishes."
"Deal." Philomena must have noticed the way Lauren was staring at her, because she put a hand up to her teased blond hair, patting it into place. "Is something wrong?"
"No," Lauren assured her, slipping into a kitchen chair. "I just can't get over how much you look like your cousin."
"Oh. Sam." Philomena turned back to finish unloading the groceries. "He told me you two had met."
Lauren sighed. "Did he mention that I was a blubbering idiot?"
"No. I think he felt badly for giving you a scare. I should have mentioned that he might be helping me move."
"It's not your fault. Or his. I … it's just that…"
"What?" Philomena prodded.
Lauren swallowed. "Sam wasn't wearing a shirt when I met him. And I…" She shook her head. "I can't tell you. It's too embarrassing."
"Did he offend you? Insult you in some way?"
"No, nothing like that."
"Then what did he do?"
"He didn't do anything. Sam was a perfect gentleman. It was me." She swallowed hard. "The poor man was simply trying to carry on a polite conversation and I … kept picturing him naked."
Philomena stared at Lauren, and it was obvious she had shocked the poor woman. "That … surprises me."
Lauren smiled. "It surprised me, too. I don't usually have that kind of reaction to men. Maybe that's a good sign. So tell me about him."