Masquerade

by Janette Rallison

  “I’ve never seen you before in my life,” Clarissa said again.

  Elaina nodded solemnly. “Me either.”

  “Are reporters bad guys?” Bella asked, tilting her head so her curls lay against her shoulder.

  “No,” Meredith said.

  “Yes,” Slade said, “and you’re to stay away from them.”

  Clarissa undid the girls’ seatbelts, while Meredith opened the door. As they got out of the limo, Clarissa asked, “What about our luggage?”

  “I’ll have a porter bring them in.” Slade shut the door behind them with a heavy thud, disappearing behind the tinted windows.

  Clarissa took each girl by the hand, and they began trudging across the parking lot.

  Meredith bent down and adjusted one of the straps on her heels. “I wish he’d dropped us off closer to the building. These aren’t the most comfortable shoes, and I’m not as young as I used to be—as Slade so kindly pointed out.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t mean—”

  “Oh, you don’t need to defend him. Slade and I go way back.” Meredith straightened and continued across the parking lot. “I love him like a son. It’s just that he never thinks about what he’s going to say before he says it. That’s not a good quality in Hollywood, and I’m constantly telling him to work on it. The problem is, he listens to me like a son—which is to say, not at all.”

  Elaina shuffled her feet as she walked, kicking tiny bits of gravel. Clarissa tried to hurry her, then gave up, bent down, and picked her up.

  Bella looked up at Elaina and frowned. “I want someone to carry me too.”

  “We’re almost there,” Meredith said. “If an old woman like me can make it, then so can you.”

  Bella walked slower. “I’m tired. I want Daddy to carry me.”

  “Your daddy will come in a few minutes,” Clarissa said. “We have to get to that building, and then he’ll come.”

  Bella glanced at the resort. Her frown didn’t disappear. “I want Daddy now.”

  It was late by California time, way past the girls’ bedtimes. Apparently that fact was finally taking its toll.

  “Here,” Meredith told Bella, “let me carry you.”

  Bella’s frown turned to tears, and she pulled her hand away from Clarissa. “Where’s my daddy?”

  Clarissa had known these moments would come when she accepted the job, but she hadn’t expected them to take place just seconds after she was left in charge. She bent down to Bella’s level. Softly, reasonably, she said, “Bella, don’t you remember what your daddy said in the car? We have to go check into our rooms, and then he’ll come get you. If you stay here crying, he won’t be able to find us.”

  Logic did not do the trick. Bella stood fixed to the spot and let out a deep, dramatic sob. Clarissa sighed and put Elaina down. Without another word, she picked up Bella and continued toward the building again. “Come on, Elaina,” she told her daughter. “Mommy needs you to walk now.”

  Elaina furrowed her brows and didn’t seem eager to move forward.

  Meredith looked from one little girl to the next. “Do you want me to carry someone?”

  “I can manage it. After all, I’m the nanny. I’m supposed to be able to deal with these situations.” She walked slowly forward and was grateful Elaina followed instead of staying put. “Besides,” she told Meredith, “Bella must weigh forty pounds. You shouldn’t have to lug her around.”

  “Ah, yes,” Meredith said. “I forgot that everyone thinks I’m old. Between you and Slade reminding me, I can tell this will be a fabulous vacation.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” Clarissa said, and then to change the subject added, “Elaina, can you walk faster?”

  Meredith took Elaina’s hand, smiled down at her, and said in an overly-loud voice, “Thank you, Elaina, for walking and being such a good girl. We appreciate it.”

  Bella sobbed less noisily at this, as though she was trying her best to be good but couldn’t quite manage it, what with a broken heart and all.

  When they reached the courtyard in front of the building, they walked past a crowd of people gathered outside the resort. Most of them were teenage girls, standing in clumps and fidgeting with excitement. A few reporters were scattered here and there. Instead of jeans, they wore business attire, had crisply hair-sprayed hair, and had cameramen trailing behind them. Every few seconds the reporters peered anxiously around. No one paid attention to Clarissa and her entourage of tired preschoolers.

  At last they reached the resort doors. They slid open, and Clarissa towed her charges into the lobby. It was spacious and done in mahogany with splashes of emerald green. Potted palm trees lined the walls, and a large stone fountain gurgled and splashed in the center of the room.

  Clarissa headed to the front desk, still carrying a sniffling Bella. The little girl quieted down considerably as they crossed the room, perhaps because she had now completely won the I-don’t-want-to-walk battle. She whispered into Clarissa’s ear, “Where’s Daddy?”

  “He’ll be here soon.”

  A well-dressed man and woman already stood in front of them, arguing with the young woman behind the counter. Clarissa shifted Bella in her arms as they waited for their turn.

  “I requested that room back in January,” the man told the clerk sharply.

  The clerk didn’t flinch at his tone. “I know, sir, and we try to honor requests, but we can’t always manage it. Number 712 is still a nice room.”

  The man let out a sigh and waved a hand to one side. “All right, 835 was our first choice. If we can’t have it, then just give us something else on the top floor.”

  The clerk’s voice stayed even. “I’m sorry, sir, the entire top floor is booked.”

  “Booked? All of it? Before last January? I don’t believe you.”

  Bella wiggled and twisted to look around at the lobby. Clarissa set her down, keeping hold of her hand.

  As soon as Elaina saw that her mother’s arms were free, she raised her own in a request to be carried. Clarissa couldn’t refuse Elaina. After all, she had been so good walking to the resort. Clarissa picked up her daughter and held her in one arm while holding onto Bella with her free hand.

  “The crew of Undercover Agents is here,” the clerk explained. “They have the entire floor blocked off.” She nodded toward the front doors. “That’s what’s going on outside. Any minute now the cast is coming out to sign autographs and talk to fans about their show.”

  The man glanced through the glass doors, then back at the clerk with the same expression of disapproval. “I’ve seen that program, and there aren’t more than a dozen people in it. Why do they need a whole floor?”

  “For production people, cameramen, lighting crews, that type of thing.”

  “Well, what rooms do you have left then?”

  The clerk rattled off several numbers, and the man shook his head as though familiar with all these rooms.

  A clock hung on the wall behind the desk clerk. Clarissa watched the minutes go by. It was ten minutes after seven now. What time had it been when they’d left the limo? Seven o’clock? Six fifty-five? It had taken her some time to cross the parking lot because of Bella’s stubbornness and Elaina’s tiredness. So any time now, Slade would make the same journey, and he’d do it considerably faster. Perhaps he’d even have the limo drop him off at the front of the building. Would she and the girls still be waiting in the lobby when he arrived?

  Clarissa tried not to think what this would do to Slade’s mood if, despite all his plans, the press still found out they were here together.

  The man in front of them pointed a finger at the clerk. “You know, we’ve been coming here for twenty years, and there used to be a time you didn’t have to be a movie star to get a good room.”

  The clerk held out one hand in a gesture of apology. “I’m sorry you’re not happy. I can only do so much about the scheduling.”

  “The least you could do is offer us some sort of an upgrade.”

&
nbsp; Clarissa shifted her weight. It was 7:12, and they hadn’t even reached the check-in counter yet. Shouldn’t the resort have more than one clerk working the desk? She strained to see if someone else was around but didn’t see anyone. Maybe the other employees had joined the crowd outside.

  Clarissa squeezed Bella’s hand and bent closer to her, balancing Elaina in her other arm. “Bella, would you like to play a funny game?” she whispered. “How about we play an ignore-your-father game? If he comes in here, let’s pretend we don’t know him, okay?”

  Bella didn’t say anything. Her brows wrinkled together unhappily, though. It was a bad sign.

  Clarissa bent her head closer to Elaina. “We’ve never seen a movie star before in our lives, remember?”

  Elaina smiled and nodded. At least she was willing to cooperate.

  The man in front of them crossed his arms forcefully. “If that’s how you’re treating us, I’m not sure we want a room here. I’ll need to discuss our options with my wife.” The couple moved farther down the counter to talk.

  Clarissa quickly stepped up to the counter. “Clarissa Hancock and Meredith Allen.”

  The clerk checked the names on her computer, then opened the key drawer. “You’ll be staying in rooms 820 and 821. They’re off to your—”

  “Wait a minute, wait a minute!” The man stormed back to the front of the counter, standing directly beside them. “You told me the top floor was booked up.”

  “It is,” the clerk said, this time less patiently. “These women are part of that group.”

  The man looked from the little girls, to Meredith, and then at Clarissa. “You mean to tell me you’re movie people?”

  Elaina smiled up at the man. “We’ve neber seen movie stars before in our lives.”

  “I thought as much.” He turned to the clerk. “I want to see the manager, right now.”

  Clarissa leaned over the counter. “Can we just get our keys, please?”

  From outside, clapping and hollering erupted.

  “It sounds like the Agents’ cast showed up,” Meredith said.

  Clarissa swallowed. “Or someone else has.” She let go of Bella’s hand to take her key card from the clerk. As she did, Bella shot off toward the front doors.

  “Come back here,” Clarissa called.

  “Right now,” Meredith added.

  Bella peered out the glass doors for only a second. “It’s Daddy!”

  The doors slid open in front of Bella. For Clarissa it was one of those awful moments, like when she knocked a glass off a table and watched the thing falling in slow motion to the floor. She wanted to stop it, but couldn’t. Clarissa stood holding Elaina and willed Bella to turn and come back. Instead, the little girl went crashing outside.

  Clarissa turned and without a word handed Elaina to Meredith, then ran after Bella.

  Bella had a head start, but she also had shorter legs. Clarissa could catch her.

  The little girl darted into the crowd, and Clarissa followed. For a moment Clarissa couldn't see her and felt the trappings of panic. What if she lost her altogether? Clarissa called out, “Bella!” and got no answer.

  Then Clarissa caught sight of her weaving through a group of teenagers. She called out her name again. Bella only glanced back at her and went quicker. Clarissa sprinted after her, trying to keep her in sight, while simultaneously avoiding plowing into bystanders. Bella slowed, staring up at the faces around her, searching for her father, and Clarissa narrowed the ground between them. The end of the chase came when Bella started to go one way, then changed her mind and went the other. Clarissa reached out and caught hold of Bella’s arm. “You’re coming with me right now, young lady.”

  Bella lunged toward the nearest pant leg and held on. “Daddy!” she screamed.

  Still pulling on Bella’s arm, Clarissa looked up at the owner of the pant leg to apologize for Bella’s behavior. She found herself looking directly into Slade’s eyes.

  He hoisted Bella up into his arms. Then he took hold of Clarissa’s elbow and propelled her forward. “We’ve had enough of a scene for one night,” he said quietly into her ear. “Let’s gather what dignity we can and go to the lobby.”

  Clarissa moved forward in a shocked sort of way and noticed for the first time that the crowd had parted around them. All eyes were on her. She gulped and walked stiffly, hoping that if there were ever a time in her life when she could manage not to trip, this would be it.

  As they walked, one of the well-dressed, well-hair-sprayed women stepped into their path. “Slade, is this your daughter?”

  Slade paused in front of the reporter and smiled casually, confidently, as though he’d meant to take this opportunity to show off Bella all along. That, Clarissa supposed, was why they called it acting.

  “Yes, this is my daughter, and,” Slade motioned to Clarissa with a nod, “this is my daughter’s nanny, Mrs. Hancock.” He emphasized both the words nanny and Mrs.

  The reporter gave Bella a big smile. “You are just a doll.”

  “Are you a reporter?” Bella asked.

  The smile got even bigger. “Yes, honey, I am.”

  In a matter-of-fact tone Bella said, “Reporters are bad people.”

  Slade patted Bella’s back, half laughing, half choking. “I don’t know where kids come up with these things.”

  “You told me so, Daddy,” Bella said.

  Slade laughed again, and this time it definitely sounded more like choking. “Of course, I wasn’t talking about you,” he told the woman.

  She smiled back at him stiffly. “Of course.”

  “My daddy and Clarissa aren’t having an affair,” Bella added.

  Slade didn’t wait for any questions after that. He started walking toward the lobby again, quite quickly this time, and Clarissa matched his pace.

  Bella hugged her father’s neck happily, like it had been years and not just minutes since she’d last seen him, and then kissed him on the cheek. It must have made an irresistible picture. Which is why, Clarissa told herself, flashes were suddenly going off around them.

  Chapter 8

  Clarissa stood outside Slade’s hotel door and knocked softly. She tried to appear as poised as possible for a person about to face the wrath of a man who had—at least in the movies—single-handedly stormed the White House, killed dozens of terrorists, and brought down a drug cartel.

  She fidgeted with her hands, forced herself to stop that, then found herself biting her bottom lip.

  She had known ever since the instant she looked up from Bella’s arm into Slade’s eyes that this time would come. He had said nothing to her the entire time they checked in at the hotel desk or even on the way to their rooms. Now the girls had their pajamas on, their teeth brushed, and lay on Meredith’s bed watching cartoons so Slade could—as he’d explained to Meredith—have a moment alone to speak with Clarissa.

  Slade opened the door, moved aside, and curtly said, “Come in.”

  She did. She stood in the middle of the room, looking first at the couch and then the chair. “Do you want me to sit down, or would you rather I stand while you yell at me?”

  “One thing,” he told her. “I asked you for one simple thing.” He slowly paced back and forth across the floor of the suite. “I asked you to check in before me so I could spare myself any negative press. Was that too hard?”

  “I only let go of Bella’s hand to get my key, and she took off outside. I had to go after her. What else could I do?”

  Slade stopped pacing and turned to face Clarissa. “Bella called reporters bad people and then specifically told one we weren’t having an affair. How do you suppose that story will go over once it hits the internet?”

  “I didn’t put those words into her mouth. You did.”

  “Yes, but I hired you to take care of her. You were supposed to keep her away from the paparazzi.” He held one hand up in the air. “Reporters want a story, and you gave them one.” He emphasized his next words as though each one were a headline
. “Slade Jacobson’s week-long getaway with gorgeous married nanny.”

  Gorgeous? Clarissa must not have looked sufficiently horrified by this headline because he added, “What will your husband say about that?”

  Alex would probably say something snide about her not being so gorgeous when she got up first thing in the morning. “Don’t worry about Alex,” Clarissa said.

  Slade thrust his hands in his pockets and began pacing again. His eyes were dark with anger. “You don’t realize what the paparazzi are like. You have no idea.”

  “I was doing my best to control Bella—”

  “I certainly hope that wasn’t your best,” he cut in. “One would hope your best efforts would see you past the first hour of your job.”

  For one horrible moment Clarissa wasn’t in Hawaii at all. She was back with Alex, and he was standing there berating her.

  She couldn’t keep the house clean. She couldn’t control their daughter. Somehow Elaina had always been too loud, too messy, or up too late, and it was Clarissa’s fault. Now with Slade Jacobson standing here saying the same things, she felt crushed by the thought that perhaps Alex had been right all along. Perhaps she really was incompetent.

  She blinked to keep the tears from coming. She felt them stinging her eyes anyway. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I tried not to let go of her.”

  He must have heard the quaver in her voice, because he suddenly stopped pacing and looked at her more closely. Once he did, he sighed and tilted back his head. “Oh no. Don’t cry. What is it with women? Why is it that they can’t ever take a performance review?”

  “Is that what this is?” Clarissa sputtered. “A performance review?”

  A quick, sharp knock sounded on the door. They both turned to it.

  “Who’s there?” Slade called.

  “It’s me, Landon. Hurry and open the door.”

  Slade hesitated, then stepped toward the door. “This isn’t the best time, Landon. Can I give you a call later?”

  “I don’t care if you’re in your pajamas,” Landon said. “Open the door, and hurry.”