The Role of a Lifetime

by Jennifer Shirk

  He frowned back. “Knew what?”

  The phone rang, interrupting their scowling match. Sandra put the ant farm down and stepped away to answer it. “Hello, Storybook Land,” she said politely. “What? Yes, I am. Well, as a matter of fact… Oh, yes, of course.” She jerked the receiver at him, all politeness stripped away. “It’s for you.”

  “Me?” He shrugged and took the phone. “Capshaw,” he said after he put it up to his ear.

  “Turn on your damn cell phone!” his agent demanded in a booming voice. “I’ve been trying to reach you. I’ve been worried sick. Everything going okay?”

  His eyes shot to Sandra. She stood with her hands on her hips and her usual pissed-off expression on her face.

  “Couldn’t be better,” he drawled.

  “Good,” Denise said. “This is a courtesy call, by the way. I haven’t heard anything yet from the producers, so I wanted to remind you to continue to play nice with the children and to make sure your pants stay zipped.”

  He turned away from Sandra and lowered his voice. “What the hell does that mean?”

  Denise laughed. “Relax, Ben. I know you’re not some child-molester. The children are safe. It’s the teachers I’m worried about. I know you better than your own mo—uh, older sister. The women running that place are young, and you don’t need any problems right now. You need positive publicity. No Russell Crowe-type stuff. If you break the heart of some small-town preschool teacher, and she squawks about it, you’re going to undo all the good this movie role will do for your career.” She paused. “Hear me now?”

  Ben looked at Sandra again, standing just close enough for him to catch that peachy scent of hers. Oh, hell. Now he knew what Adam must’ve gone through with the whole forbidden fruit thing.

  He let out a long sigh. “Yeah, I hear you,” he murmured.

  “Oh, and another thing,” she added. “I need you to come up to New York on Monday by 6 p.m. You’ve got an interview to talk about trying to branch out your acting abilities. It’ll set the stage nicely for when you get that movie role.”

  He cradled the phone on his shoulder and watched as Sandra stacked papers into tidy bundles on a side table. Then she picked up a stapler and started stapling the corners of each pile. Even while he was on the phone, he noticed the woman never rested. She wasn’t a spoiled woman who wanted to be waited on hand and foot, like some of the models he had dated. He became mesmerized by how gracefully, yet efficiently her hands moved. Just that alone said a lot about her character—that she was organized and hardworking. And darn if he didn’t like that about her as well.

  “Did you hear what I said?” Denise barked in his ear.

  “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

  “Good. And let the ladies know I’ll send them the check for their services at the end of the month.”

  “Check?”

  “Mmm-hmm, it was in the contract. Two weeks is a long time to have you interrupting their routine—as loveable as you are.”

  Two weeks?

  “And remember, Ben, no touchy-feely type stuff. Focus on your career. We’re too close now. So don’t mess it up.”

  “Yeah.” With annoyance, he hung up the phone.

  “Who was that, your mommy?” Sandra smirked.

  Ben rubbed his chin in thought. “Huh? Uh, no, it was my cleaning lady,” he lied. “Listen, you were right about what happened yesterday—about me kissing you and all.” He took a deep breath. “It was all my fault and totally uncalled for.”

  Sandra paused, stapler held in mid-air. “What?”

  “I promise it won’t happen again.”

  “Wait. What? It won’t?”

  He shook his head. “You were right. I haven’t been taking this seriously enough. You’ve been very kind to allow me to observe your school, and all I’ve been doing is playing games and joking around, especially yesterday in your office. I’m very sorry.”

  She finally put down the stapler. “You’re sorry? But I thought you said—”

  “Look, sometimes I can’t help how I act. It must be just habit. I really do want us to be friends.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah. What do you say? I know it’s hard for you to believe what I’m saying after how I’ve been acting, but I was hoping…”

  Sandra was no dummy. Now that the shock was gone from her face, she eyed him with open skepticism. He didn’t blame her one bit. Let’s face it, his turnaround in attitude wasn’t exactly his idea. He was not hoping for just a friendship with her. If fact, he was one agent-interrupted phone call away from suggesting she get a babysitter and go back to his place this afternoon. But if friendship was going to get him better publicity and make his agent happy, then friendship was what he was going to have to settle for.

  The things he did for his career.

  “And considering I’ll be here a little longer than you planned…” he added, hoping he could slip this by her without igniting any more suspicions, “…I thought it’d be best to clear the air between us.”

  She looked at him with apprehension. “How much is a little longer than I planned?”

  “About two weeks. Less than two weeks, really.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  He held up a hand. “Yeah, I know, but according to the contract you…uh…signed, you’ll be getting a hefty check for it.”

  That stopped her protest cold, and she looked happier than he’d ever seen her. “A hefty check?”

  Uh-oh. Come to think of it, Denise didn’t say anything about the check being hefty. He’d have to make sure it was. “Yeah, so what do you say?”

  Sandra watched him carefully and appeared to think it over. “Well… I guess so.”

  “Great. Again, thanks for being such a good sport about everything.”

  She nodded. He nodded too, even though he didn’t know why. Then to break the awkward moment, he shrugged and yanked his thumb toward the hall. “I guess I’ll get back to class.” He shuffled himself out and quickly closed the door behind him.

  Whew. That was one major tap dance he’d just performed back there for the sake of his career, but if they were going to be around each other for another week or so, it had to be done. Like his agent said, he couldn’t be playing around with that woman—at least not in this lifetime. So he had to lie about why he kissed her, telling her it was all a big joke. Unfortunately, the kiss they’d shared was no joke at all.

  It looked as if Sandra bought it though, even if his heart wasn’t entirely into it. He sounded so convincing; he almost fooled himself into believing it too.

  Damn, he was a good actor.

  Chapter Six

  Sandra made a list of school expenses, and then carefully inspected what she’d written. There was no way she could squeeze another task on if she tried, but she was excited about all the things they could finally afford to do. She even thought about making up a secondary wish list, just in case the check was bigger than what was promised.

  As soon as Ben had left her office, she dug out the agreement and scanned it from beginning to end. It bowled her over to learn they were going to be compensated with a check for allowing Ben access to their school. No wonder Missy had jumped at the chance to have him come here. She’d have to give her sister more credit next time.

  Okay, the positive publicity Ben could provide was still a bit iffy in her mind, but a check was tangible. Something they sure could use right about now. Once the school became more profitable, she’d add on a small wing to their building, then she could offer fun summer camp programs—maybe even have a daycare—and their school could be used year-round. A small dream, yes, but it was still her dream.

  Ben’s coming here might be the key to her success after all. And if things worked out with the promotional stuff too, well, their little preschool might just be the talk of the town. She didn’t want to get too carried away, but she felt as if things could really be looking up for her and their business. And, according to Ben, she wouldn’t have to put up wi
th him coming on to her anymore, or thwart any more of those toe-curling kisses of his. Which, of course, was good news too—wonderful, even.

  Wasn’t it?

  She had to admit she felt a trickle of disappointment at his adamant assurance that the kiss they’d shared yesterday would never happen again. He told her he would just continue to work and observe there, treating her and the other women with professionalism from now on. Again, more good stuff to hear, especially since that’s what she wanted from him from day one.

  Wasn’t it?

  She shook her head. This was crazy. He was doing it again, causing her emotions to not play fair. She and Ben were on two different life tracks—were two different people—so of course it was what she wanted.

  His statements just came as such a complete shock. He actually owned up to being the louse she knew he was all along—a rarity for someone of his gender. But she had to admit it was a nice change of pace, to have a man be on the level with you for once. His honest confession of joking around with that kiss almost made him seem un-louse-like, if that were possible.

  Unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to think about anything else besides that good-looking louse’s kiss since it happened. That kiss brought to the surface things she’d thought were buried deep within her since the day her husband left. She’d forgotten how easy it was to slide into a man’s arms, to allow herself to become vulnerable again. And it scared her to death.

  Was Ben all show and pretense, or was there something more to that playboy veneer? She wasn’t sure she wanted to find out. But a small part of her couldn’t help but wonder if he even enjoyed kissing her. She guessed not. He was used to kissing for the camera, not to mention used to kissing other gorgeous world-famous celebrities, not ordinary mothers of preschoolers.

  She probably smelled like Elmer’s Glue too.

  Sandra glanced at the time. School was almost over, and today she promised Hannah she’d take her to lunch on the boardwalk. They both looked forward to getting out to the beach, since the weather was unseasonably warm for fall. Maybe even the fresh ocean air would help clear her jumbled up thoughts about Ben.

  A knock sounded, and as if on cue, the man himself poked his head in. “Is it still okay for me to hide in here with you while the kids are being picked up?” Ben said in way of greeting. “Remember, I promise to be on my best behavior.”

  He grinned a charming kind of lopsided grin, and just like that, she lost her ability to speak. What was wrong with her?

  Taking her silence as a yes, he swept through her office on his long legs and folded himself into one of the chairs facing her desk. Smiling, he sat, seeming at ease and comfortable despite everything that happened between them—as though he’d never kissed her. Unfortunately, all she could do was fidget with a highlighter and be envious that she couldn’t be as in control and put all her emotions behind her. She couldn’t even look at him the same way.

  “So, how’s it going at this end of the school?” he asked, leaning his elbow against the back of the chair.

  “Um, okay.” She couldn’t sound anymore lame if she tried. Ben was finally trying to make nice conversation—add some normalcy to their working relationship, which was exactly what she wanted—and she couldn’t think of a single thing to say to him. In fact, since she wasn’t snapping at him, she had to concentrate on not staring at that incredible mouth of his.

  Ben looked amused. “Hmm, you don’t say? Sounds riveting. Jeez, Sandals, I think you had more to say to me when we weren’t such good friends.”

  “I told you, it’s not Sandals. It’s Sandra,” she shot, emphasizing the last syllable of her name. “And something like friendship isn’t just given to someone on a silver platter. Something you seem to—”

  “That’s more like it,” he said with a grin.

  Stunned, she realized what he had done, and then she grinned, too. He wanted to agitate her by calling her Sandals, to break the awkwardness around them. And it worked.

  “Sorry,” she murmured.

  He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles. He wasn’t wearing socks, so she noticed the tip of the tattoo she remembered from that day at the park. Only today, the skull didn’t disgust her. Today, she found it sexy and just a bit mysterious.

  “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “What are friends for? Besides, I like it when you yell at me.”

  She gave him a look that made him laugh.

  “No, really,” he assured her. “Yelling is an honest reaction and nice to have, since people—aside from my agent—usually spend their time trying to kiss up to me.”

  “Oh. Well, I’d be happy to be even more honest with you, if you like.”

  He held up a protesting hand. “Uh, no thanks. I like my honesty dished out in small doses. Easier for my ego to take. Deal?”

  A laugh bubbled up inside her. “Okay, deal.”

  “Mommy, Aunt Missy gave me a sticker!” Hannah’s shout came five seconds before she materialized before them, and when she did, her cheeks looked rosy with excitement.

  “Wow! Why did you get a sticker?”

  Her daughter puffed her chest out. “Because I was a good girl.”

  Sandra looked to Ben for confirmation. “She was,” he told her. “But then she’s always a good girl and, without a doubt, my favorite midget.” He slid out of his chair and knelt in front of her. “We’re buds, aren’t we, Hannah?”

  “Yeah! Big Bens and me are buds,” she informed her mother. Then with a sudden frown, she whirled back toward Ben. “Um, you mean like rosebuds?”

  Ben chuckled warmly. “No, I mean we’re buddies. Bud for short. Get it?”

  Her little features scrunched up for a second, but then she gave him a smile that burst through like sunshine. “Yeah, I get it.”

  “Okay, Hannah, go get your jacket,” Sandra interrupted. “It’s time to go. Mommy’s starving.”

  “Big Bens, are you coming to the boardwalk too?”

  Ben appeared nonplussed, and, maybe she was seeing things that weren’t there, a little pleased at Hannah’s question. His eyes swung away from her daughter. “Boardwalk?” he asked.

  Sandra blinked at his intense-green gaze. “Uh, well, that’s where we’re going to have lunch.”

  “Pizza,” Hannah cut in.

  “Pizza,” she agreed.

  “And don’t forget the rides,” her daughter sang.

  She shot Hannah a warning look. “Maybe rides too.”

  Ben raised his brows and stood. “Pizza and rides? Where do I sign up?”

  “Oh, well—”

  “You don’t sign up, you just come,” Hannah told him. “Then we can all go together.”

  Sandra suddenly wanted to find the nearest sinkhole and jump in headfirst. Her daughter had just invited a heartthrob celebrity to spend the afternoon eating sloppy, greasy pizza and going on kiddie rides. Yeah, that had to be the second thing on his list of things to do today, right after his Swedish massage. Oh boy, he’d have a good laugh at that later while he was eating lobster stuffed with caviar. Too bad—for her daughter, that is. Hannah missed a father-type figure in her life, and it showed. It just about broke her heart to witness the hopefulness overflowing in her daughter’s big, round eyes, but she knew Ben was just being polite by pretending interest.

  “I’d love to come,” he answered.

  What?

  “Hip-hip-hooray!” Hannah shouted as she galloped around the office.

  Sandra gritted her teeth. Ben wasn’t helping the situation, just standing there, laughing as her daughter jumped her little heart out. Frustration constricted in her chest, since she was left with no choice but to be the bad guy.

  No matter. She was used to it. The way she always made up excuses for her ex-husband, she had the bad guy routine down to an art form anyway. “Sweetie,” she said, taking her daughter by the shoulders, “Big Bens is a very busy—”

  “Sandra, I said I’d love to come.”

  She looked up and saw he was seri
ous. He really didn’t want her getting him out of lunch. Huh. That was a new one to her. But out of habit, she tried one more time. “Aren’t you worried about being recognized?”

  He flashed her a confident grin, reaching deep into his pocket, whipping out what looked like a black necklace, and twirling it around his index finger.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  Hannah’s little hands went for the object, but Ben yanked it out of her reach just in time. “Nice try.” He looked at Sandra, his grin widening. “It’s my eye patch.”

  “Your eye patch,” she repeated. “Has this role you’re after changed to a pirates-of-the-Jersey-shore movie?”

  “No,” he said with a chuckle. “Since you had me shave, it’s my new disguise.”

  “You honestly walk around wearing that thing?”

  He answered her question by putting it on.

  Oh dear. She hated to admit it, but the eye patch looked good on him. Why was she so surprised? Of course it did. He was a handsome man, and now he made one heck of a handsome pirate. To her disgust, her heart even did a somersault.

  That settled it. Ben coming with them to lunch had bad idea written all over it. She looked to Hannah, hoping for an ally, or at the very least, some kind of sign. “What do you think, sweetie? Do you want to go to lunch with a pirate?”

  “Pi-rate, pi-rate, pi-rate,” her little traitor began to chant, giggling and dancing around some more.

  Not the sign she’d hoped for.

  Sandra shrugged at Ben. “I guess you can come with us.”

  “Arrr, shiver me timbers,” he said in an exaggerated pirate twang. He winked his uncovered eye and hooked his thumbs in his pants. “This is the nicest your mom’s been to a poor old bloke like me-self in days.”

  Sandra poked a finger in his chest, but grinned. “Don’t make me regret it, or you’ll walk the plank.”

  He grinned back and, with that eye patch, turned knee-meltingly rakish in under ten seconds flat. “Aye, I won’t be asking you to make me Roger jolly, if that’s what has you worrying.”

  She laughed. Then he surprised her by taking her hand in his and raising it up to his lips. “I’ve already given you me word,” he said huskily, still in his pirate character. “Friendship and perhaps a kind word here and there ’tis all I’m after.”