The Role of a Lifetime

by Jennifer Shirk

  She’d seen better performances by him.

  “You know, it’s okay to admit the truth,” he told her. “It means you’re human.”

  “I know I’m human, thank you very much.”

  He chuckled. “Okay, if it makes you feel better, I’ll give you a truth. That’ll show you I can be human too.”

  “I doubt one piece of trivia will accomplish that enormous feat.”

  “Come on,” he cajoled, undaunted by her attitude. “It’ll pass the time while we wait for the kids to be picked up.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean, like that twenty-questions game?”

  He shrugged. “I was thinking more along the lines of truth or dare, but okay. We can play whatever game you like.” His gaze traveled over her body, slow and thorough, giving her an idea of where his thoughts were going.

  A mixture of curiosity and excitement had her swallowing hard. But she hid her emotions with an amused huff as she stood and walked over to her filing cabinet. Ben was worse than Hannah, always wanting to play games. She didn’t have time to entertain his childish whims, even if they did seem…a little enticing. But she needed to find the number of a handyman. The building was falling apart, and a coat of paint might gloss over the many imperfections of it. Unfortunately, she was so intent on finding an old invoice, she didn’t notice Ben come up behind her until his hands braced the filing cabinet on either side of her, caging her in.

  “Wh-what are you doing?” she asked, feeling her heart slam up against her chest so hard she jerked forward.

  “Waiting to find out what game you want to play,” he whispered in her ear.

  She felt a shiver and whirled around. “I…uh…Game?” She couldn’t think—or even breathe. He was standing so close he seemed to snatch up all the air around her, and for a split second, she almost felt faint because of it.

  He smiled, and her throat constricted even more. “It looks like I’ll have to pick for you,” he said.

  “I don’t—”

  He kissed her then.

  She couldn’t believe he kissed her. And what a kiss it was.

  Feeling his hands travel up her arms and cup her face created an unfamiliar sensation she wasn’t prepared for. That’s why she kissed him back. It had nothing to do with the man himself. Or the incredible scent of his skin. Or the addicting taste of his mouth.

  He pressed his body—the one she’d been so preoccupied with lately—against her, hard and firm, and she nearly died. His arms dropped and wrapped around her, holding on to her as if he were dangling off a bridge. He felt so good. It didn’t matter that she was kissing a famous movie star or what he must be thinking at that moment. Their tongues touched briefly, and it was all she could do not to open her mouth further. So she did.

  How could she resist that kind of blatant physical hunger? It had been so long since she had felt or incited that kind of reaction. She found herself wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing herself further into him, enjoying his response. If Ben was just acting again, he was doing a fine job of it. Maybe too fine. However, she gave in to this small, reckless moment of a kiss anyway, willing her better judgment to take a short hike—for once.

  “Mommy, I need a Band Aid!” Hannah yelled outside the door.

  Better judgment swooped in for the kill.

  Her hands flew to Ben’s chest and she broke the kiss. Humiliation at her wantonness wouldn’t allow her to look at him. “Sorry,” she managed, even though her breath was gone. “I can’t play these games with you anymore.”

  She didn’t wait for him to respond with anything smart-alecky or arrogant—didn’t even wait for him to step away from her. She just roughly brushed past him and ran out the door to her daughter.

  Chapter Five

  “And then Ben spun a ball on his finger. Well, of course, all the children had to try it too. It was the cutest thing.” Missy reached for the coffeepot, still smiling from her own story, and poured herself another cup.

  Sandra drummed her fingers on her kitchen table. “Yeah, that’s some story,” she said flatly. She cleared her throat and struggled for serenity. “Uh, can we not talk about Ben Capshaw anymore tonight, please? I’m begging you. Please!”

  Missy was driving her one block short of the looney bin with the whole play-by-play of her first teaching day with Ben. Weren’t there any other stimulating topics in life to talk about? Apparently not where Missy was concerned. All she heard since Missy had first stepped in the door was Ben this and Ben that. Ben, Ben, Ben!

  Sandra wanted her to come over to her house so they could have a nice chat and maybe discuss…shades of lipstick, who’ll win Survivor, the newly appointed justice of the Supreme Court—anything besides Ben Capshaw. She wanted a distraction. She didn’t want any more reminders of him.

  Yeah, as if he hadn’t plagued her mind enough since this afternoon. The man—in all his super-celebrity audacity—had just grabbed her, right there in her very own office, and kissed her. With the way he accosted her, she should have called the police.

  Oh, who was she kidding?

  She’d kissed him back, for crying out loud. And not just one of those closed-mouthed, first-cousins-twice-removed type of kisses either. She took a personal working inventory of his entire oral cavity. Oh boy. There wasn’t a thing missing there. The man definitely knew how to use his mouth.

  Yeah, he should know, she thought with resentment. She’d hate to count the number of kisses he had to perform in front of the camera, let alone in private. And now, being the weak, sex-starved moron she was, she had to go and add herself to that ever-growing list.

  Missy sat across from her and took another sip of coffee. “But I have another great story to tell. Ben was so cute. Why don’t you want to hear it?”

  “I just don’t.” She felt a strong surge of guilt over snapping at her sister, but she couldn’t do anything to correct her testy behavior. “Look, save your enthralling Ben Capshaw stories for someone who’s interested. I for one am not.” Without thinking, she picked up her cup and slugged down the rest of her coffee as if she were doing shots at a bar. Thankfully, the coffee had cooled.

  Missy continued to stare, her eyebrows forming a small, blonde “V”. “Is there something going on between you and Ben Capshaw?”

  She flinched, knocking over her empty saucer. “W-what?” she spluttered. “That’s ridiculous. Laughable, really.” She tried to smile to prove her point, but her lips wouldn’t cooperate. She was really a terrible liar. “There’s nothing going on between us.”

  Yeah, that lie sounded thin even to her own ears.

  Missy’s big, blue eyes narrowed further. Uh-oh. Missy may have looked the sweet, dumb-blonde part, but she was far from it. Sandra started to sweat. “Well, you both have been acting kind of funny today.”

  “Funny?” Sandra swallowed and shifted in her chair. “Oh. That’s because of the whole Herbie fiasco, I’m sure.”

  Missy played with her earring and looked away in thought. “No, it seemed like it started…after school.”

  Sandra froze. Even though Missy was her sister, she still couldn’t bring herself to confide the truth that she had kissed Ben. Partly because she was too embarrassed, but mostly, because she hated admitting she’d lost control like that. Something very unusual for her, but was happening a lot lately. Lately meaning since she met him.

  Missy looked at her again and paled. “Oh my goodness! It’s true, isn’t it?”

  She started to shake her head no, then blurted, “Yes! Yes. How did you know? Am I wearing a neon I Kissed Ben Capshaw sign on my forehead?”

  “Holy smokes! You kissed Ben Capshaw?”

  Sandra groaned. This was not the conversation she wanted to have now. “He kissed me first,” she was quick to point out. “But yes, we kissed. Okay? Happy? Because I’m not.” She plunged her head in her hands.

  “Wow. He kissed you?”

  She whipped her head up. “Was that surprise I heard? Why are you so surprised? C
an’t a divorced mother of a four-year-old be sexually attractive to a handsome, rich, celebrity superstar?” She threw up a hand before Missy could formulate an answer. “Never mind. I just heard how ridiculous that sounded.”

  Missy frowned. “It’s not ridiculous at all. You’re beautiful—on the inside and out.”

  “Not beautiful enough to keep a husband,” she murmured.

  “Don’t say that! Honey, you know that’s not the reason you and Steve broke up.”

  “Yeah, I know.” She sighed. “I’m just feeling pitiful and a little sorry for myself right now. I called Steve last week to see if he wanted to see Hannah, you know, since he’ll be in New York for a few months. Well, you’d think our existence was a total inconvenience to that stupid show he’s in. Dealing with him has just been a nightmare. I think that’s why I let that kiss with Ben happen today. I know it sounds crazy, but for that split second, I really felt desirable again.”

  A silence of understanding fell between them. Missy knew that her divorce from Steve was painful, and so she hadn’t been with a man—let alone kiss one—since their separation. It had been unbearable to discover the man she chose to love and cherish didn’t want those things from her, or even his own child, any longer. Enough of a blow to not make her want to rush right out and try her hand at dating again anytime soon—not that she was foolish enough to believe Ben Capshaw was looking for something as mundane as that from her.

  Missy jumped up and started searching her cupboards. When she found what she was looking for, she turned back and plopped a box of animal crackers in front of her. “This is the most unhealthy thing I could find in your house, but it’ll have to do for now.”

  Sandra shook her head. She wasn’t in the mood for one of her sister’s graze-fests. Her stomach muscles were scrunched up so tight, she had a hard time even keeping the coffee down.

  Missy opened the box and helped herself. “So…are you like…dating him now?” she asked between mouthfuls of cookie.

  Sandra laughed. It was quick and easy in coming, and made her insides feel ten times lighter. “Oh, yeah,” she countered, still smiling. “Didn’t you read it in Celebrity Insider yet?”

  Missy stopped chewing. “What? It could happen. Tell me why it couldn’t happen?”

  “Oh, give me a break, Missy. He’s not interested in me. Not really, anyway. Acting is in his nature. Believe me, I know the type firsthand, thanks to Steve. He enjoys playing these kinds of games. Do you know he even had the gall to tell me my eye twitches when I lie?”

  Missy looked away, suddenly fussing with a napkin she didn’t need. “Uh…well…your eye does twitch when you lie.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Missy shoved another cookie in her mouth and confirmed her statement with a short nod.

  “Why didn’t anybody tell me that before?” And how did a stranger she’d known for less than forty-eight hours discover it so fast? In all the years she’d known Steve, he could never read even the simplest pout she’d given him.

  Missy shrugged, looking guilty. “Sorry, but secret information you can use for your own personal advantage, you don’t exactly want to divulge too soon. That’s why I suspected something happened between you and Ben.” She gave her a half-hearted smile. “Look on the bright side, at least the cat’s out of the bag now.”

  “Oh, yeah,” she mocked. “So that’s good news. Now if I can just unload this Canadian quarter in my wallet, my day would really be looking up.”

  Missy sniffed. “Well, if it’s any more of a consolation, you’re a terrible liar anyway. Even without the eye twitch, I can tell when you’re holding something back from me. It must be a sisterly thing.”

  “How come when I was born I didn’t get those kinds of super-powers?”

  Just then, Hannah came running in the kitchen. “Mommy, Mommy! When I washed my hands, my boo-boo didn’t hurt!”

  Sandra opened her arms and swept her up onto her lap. “That’s great, honey. That Band Aid’s really doing its job.”

  That Band Aid. That sweet, beautiful Sesame Street Band-Aid. The same one that prevented her from making an even bigger spectacle of herself in front of Ben Capshaw—thank goodness. She squeezed her daughter in a tight, grateful hug.

  Hannah squirmed and laughed. “Mommy, you hug me too much!”

  Sandra grinned at Missy. “Did you hear that?” she asked, tickling Hannah. “She’s getting too big for her britches already.”

  “Mommy, stop,” her daughter laughed. As her laugh grew louder, it rang sweet and infectious.

  Missy smiled. “I love that laugh of hers.”

  “Me, too.” Too bad her ex-husband couldn’t appreciate little things like that. Steve never took an interest in any of Hannah’s little personality quirks or talents, always claiming he didn’t have to time to notice them because of his work. Deep down, she knew it was really because he didn’t care.

  She let Hannah wiggle free with a quick kiss on the top of her head. “Okay, it’s bath time, sweetie.”

  Hannah held up two tiny fingers. “Um, how about two more minutes?”

  “You said that same thing ten minutes ago. Now scoot.” She pointed, and Hannah giggled again as she ran off towards the bathroom.

  Sandra stood and handed Missy the TV remote control. “You’re going to have to entertain yourself now. I’ll be back in a few with one fully-scrubbed child.”

  Missy turned on the TV and started flipping channels. “Okay. But what are you going to do about Ben?”

  “I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. Nothing.”

  Missy’s attention quickly broke away from the Seinfeld rerun she put on. “Nothing? A handsome movie star takes an interest in you and you’re going to do nothing?”

  Sandra folded her arms, pleased she was back in control and feeling like her old self again. “That’s right. Nothing. Zip. Goldilocks has two more days, and then he’ll be on a plane back to Hollywood and off to wreck some other preschool in the woods. So I’m going to do my best to ignore what happened. Then, after he’s gone, we’ll see if it’s in our budget to fix up the school. Maybe spruce it up with some paint.”

  Missy shook her head, a small smile of wonder at her lips. “Only you, Sandra, would rather think about giving the school a makeover instead of a romance. I don’t believe you.”

  “Believe it.” She wasn’t about to allow herself to fall into the same old trap, the same old heartbreak. That she was certain about. But just in case her eye was feeling extra twitchy, she covered it with her hand for good measure and left the room.

  Ben stared at Sandra’s office door and shifted the package he held in his hands. He wondered which Sandra he was going to meet with this morning—the cold, snappish one, or the hot, compliant one.

  He had a sneaky suspicion, which was why he brought the gift. He wasn’t about to take any chances. She wouldn’t slug a man bearing a gift, would she? He wouldn’t put it past her. But then again, he deserved it.

  He was a rat—he darn well knew it—cornering her like that against her filing cabinet yesterday like some bizarro-world Don Juan. But his ego couldn’t take anymore of her chin-thrusting denials of their attraction. So when the opportunity presented itself, he grabbed at the chance to prove it to her once and for all.

  Of course, he hadn’t planned on actually kissing her. He wanted to make her squirm a bit, yes, but once he gazed at that beautiful wide mouth of hers, something just snapped. Looking back on it now, he supposed he wanted to kiss her all along.

  Wanted to?

  That was an understatement. Hell, he was dying to, ever since the first day she turned that very refined nose up in the air at him. So he kissed her. And now that he had kissed those silky-soft lips, he wanted to do it again—and much more. Hopefully, with a little softening after this gift and a little sweet-talk on his part, Sandra would be right back where he left her before her daughter interrupted them. Under his lips. In his arms.

  Ben raised a fist, but before he co
uld knock, her office door swung open. Sandra stood there before him, hair swept up like a prim librarian. She wore no makeup except some pink gloss on her lips, and she wore a plain, brown shirt that was buttoned unfashionably to her neck. He almost smiled.

  Poor misguided Sandra. She obviously thought that would keep him at a distance, but her efforts to downplay her appearance were in vain. Hot was hot, no matter what she tried to do. And she looked hot. In fact, he’d never seen her look better, aside from the day at the park when he’d first spotted her wearing sweats and that old Red Sox T-shirt.

  “Shouldn’t you be in class?” she asked, her blue eyes boring into him.

  Yep. His suspicions were right on the money. There was an ice storm brewing. But it was one of the things he liked about her, not because he liked cold women, but because those snowballs she hurled were directed towards him—and him alone. “Yeah, but I have something for you.”

  “What is it?”

  He held up the package. “Peace offering.”

  An eyebrow arched up. “Oh?” With some hesitation, she took it from his hands and tore off the wrapping paper. She saw it was an ant farm, but looked far from amused at his little bug joke. Huh. It seemed like a good idea yesterday. He thought they would share a laugh over it—always an excellent icebreaker. Now he kicked himself for not bringing flowers too. He was such an idiot when it came to real life.

  “Thank you,” she said. “But is this a peace offering for the spider incident or for the kiss?”

  “The spider incident, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  He chuckled. “Well, as much you like to deny it, Sandra, I am a man. And that kiss was something else. Why should I apologize for that?”

  “How about…because it was totally unprofessional and uncalled for?”

  “Uncalled for? Now don’t get all Pride and Prejudice on me. You wanted that kiss as much I did. You just didn’t know it.” He couldn’t help but grin. “That was part of the fun.”

  She frowned. “I knew it.”