An Act of Love

by Brooke Hastings

  "Luke is a decent guy," Roger pointed out, "and once he finds out she's Randy, he's not going to start anything unless he's serious. Your father would kill him."

  "Do you think I want a man to take me seriously because of that?" Randy asked. "Besides, Lin is right. I don't know what I feel. Suppose Luke wants to pick up where we left off…"

  "Of course he will," Roger said with a grin. "He's not stupid."

  "Well I don't know if I do. I'll agree because— because he happens to affect me that way, but…" Randy looked into her lap. "And maybe not just him. Maybe a lot of men. I was a late starter, but at the rate I'm going—"

  "I refuse to listen to another word of this," Linda interrupted, pounding the table for emphasis. "You've got to stop punishing yourself for a perfectly human, perfectly understandable mistake, Randy."

  "And Luke? Was he a perfectly human, perfectly—"

  "No. Because I don't think he'll turn out to be a mistake. If Sean Raley hadn't shaken your confidence and left you so distrustful of your feelings I think you'd be taking this a lot differently. I think you'd realize that Luke liked the woman he met. It's the one he's only heard about who he doesn't like."

  As far as Randy was concerned the discussion was pointless. She only knew that she was confused and upset, and that the thought of seeing Luke again left her trembling with anxiety. "Maybe I should just pack up and go back to California," she muttered.

  Linda curled her feet up underneath her and stared at the opposite wall for several moments. She had a very odd look on her face that slowly—very slowly— turned into a smile. "California?" she repeated. "Why would you change your mind? After all, you had a very relaxing time in New Hampshire. You should be looking forward to working at C & D."

  "New Hampshire?" Randy looked at Linda as if her sister were playing with half a deck. "I was never in New Hampshire."

  "Dad doesn't think so. Lake doesn't think so. Luke thinks you're—what was the phrase? A chubby vestal virgin? You've already gained back some weight, and by the time you see him again…" Linda studied her sister thoughtfully. "A new hairstyle, a few inches taller with heels on, glamorous clothing and sophisticated makeup—you know how alike we look. Luke wasn't the first person to confuse us, especially when they haven't seen us for a while. He's never met me—all he's seen is that photo on Dad's desk, which looks as much like you do now as it does like I do. So the next time you meet he's going to think it's for the first time."

  "You're in the wrong business," Roger drawled. "I'm going to hire you to do a script for me."

  Randy was gazing at her sister in amazement. What kind of mind could dream up something so devious? "Do you think it could work? Really?"

  "With your talent as an actress? Are you kidding?" Linda winked at Randy. "If you can convince people that you're a Yugoslavian princess you can convince Luke that you've never met. After all, he had incontrovertible proof of it. He made love to 'Linda,' but Miranda is the only twenty-four-year-old virgin in Hollywood."

  Randy knew her sister had a point. "And how am I supposed to act?"

  "Innocent, of course. Younger and still annoyed over that phone call. Also unattainable, unimpressed and strictly business. Where's your spirit, Randy? You aren't going to turn down the best role of your life, are you?"

  "I just don't know. When he finds out what I've done he'll be furious. And suppose I really fall in love with him? I don't want to lose him by playing games. He may never speak to me again."

  "Randy, darling, from what you've told us Luke Griffin is probably half in love with you already. Take care of the present and the future will take care of itself."

  Randy had her doubts about Linda's analysis of the situation, but the actress in her couldn't resist the challenge of pretending to Luke that they'd never met. And the woman in her grabbed at the chance to create some time in which to discover her feelings, to get to know Luke under more normal circumstances, to find out whether he could love her without exposing her own emotions so totally.

  As soon as Randy agreed Linda called up her favorite hairdresser, flattering and cajoling for a full five minutes before he agreed to squeeze Randy into his schedule. Later, as she watched six inches of beautiful blond hair waft gently to the floor, she felt total dismay. But by the time she left she was actually rather pleased. Her shoulder-length hair fell in deep waves now, with the bangs and sides gently feathered back from her face. Looking in the mirror she even believed she could pull things off.

  When they returned to the house Roger took one look and agreed. With the right clothing and makeup and some skillful acting it could work. Then he suggested to the two sisters that the three of them go to Martha's Vineyard for a few days. "You need some R & R after your supposed vacation," he said to Randy when she hesitated. "I have a cousin with a summer place near Edgartown who we can sponge off of. I have to work this weekend, so on Friday I'll drive you back to New York in the Lincoln and leave Lin the Porsche. I can pick it up next time I come up to see her."

  It didn't take too much longer for Randy to admit that she loved the beach and could use a few days to get her equilibrium back. They left after a quick dinner, Linda and Roger in the Porsche and Randy in the Lincoln. Roger Bennett, it seemed, had friends everywhere. They spent the night at the home of a show business acquaintance of his who was not at all surprised that Roger would appear on his doorstep late at night accompanied by two beautiful women. "I would have called, Hal," he apologized, "but I didn't have your number with me. And since it's unlisted…"

  "No problem." Hal—Roger's introduction didn't include a last name—immediately ushered them toward some vacant bedrooms, pausing only to ascertain the sleeping arrangements. "Do you sleep with both of them at the same time, Rog? Or will you need two rooms?"

  Roger laughed and answered, "No, no, Hal. Those were the Green twins, Jade and Emerald. I go out with Linda, but her sister Randy is involved with someone else, so leave her alone."

  This exchange left Randy a little puzzled and mildly shocked. The look on her face must have been transparent, because Roger hastened to assure her, "It's an old joke, Randy. Years ago I dated twin sisters, but never at the same time."

  Hal's home was only a fifteen-minute drive from the Woods Hole ferry to Martha's Vineyard. They took the morning boat, leaving the Lincoln in Hal's driveway and taking the Porsche onto the island with them. They arrived at his cousin's cottage to find the place deserted and the doors locked up. Roger simply walked off toward some bushes at the side of the house, fished around in the dirt and returned with the key.

  "Are you sure your cousin won't mind?" Randy asked.

  "Why should she? She uses my place on Fire Island all the time. Once she nearly burned it down."

  They passed through a screened-in porch containing battered deck chairs and several cots before entering the cottage itself. Although the bedrooms and living room were furnished in early garage sale the place looked spotless and comfortable. Randy immediately staked a claim to one of the cots on the porch; she loved to sleep in the open air as long as she had enough blankets.

  She lost no time in slithering into a bikini, grabbing a towel, book and suntan lotion and trotting down to a sparsely-populated beach some twenty feet from the house. The day was sunlit and sparkling. While she sunbathed Roger and Linda went into town to shop for groceries; they joined her on the beach a few hours later with a picnic lunch for three.

  Over the next few days Randy braved the chilly water for frequent swims, lazed on the beach for hours, took long walks along the shore, went sailing with Roger and consumed an inordinate amount of shellfish. By Friday morning, due in no small measure to Linda and Roger's sympathetic, upbeat company, she was far more relaxed, more accepting of the past and optimistic about the future.

  They took the morning ferry to the mainland and drove straight to Hal's house to pick up the Lincoln. The goodbyes between the two sisters were full of warmth and teasing. "I want to hear a blow-by-blow description of everyt
hing that happens with that Luke of yours," Linda instructed as she and Randy embraced. "Call me—or I'll call you."

  Randy agreed, then waited in the car while Roger and Linda said goodbye. Their kiss was so passionate that she half expected them to send her back to New York on her own, but Roger laughingly disentangled Linda's wandering hands from his body, gave her a sharp slap on her bottom and sent her off toward the Porsche.

  At Roger's midtown office Randy took the wheel, leaning out the window to thank him and kiss him goodbye. When she showed up at her parents' door laden with shopping bags Emily wondered aloud just how her daughter had found the time to buy so much, but accepted Randy's answer that in a few hours with Linda one could accomplish more than in a few days on one's own.

  It was just about the only true statement that the Dunnes would hear about their daughter's vacation. That night, while watching a display of Fourth of July fireworks with them, Randy fabricated a complete account of her stay in New Hampshire, including appropriate minor misadventures to explain away a lingering scratch or two. Even her father had to admit that she looked wonderful with her suntan, new hairstyle and extra ten pounds, although he still believed that anyone who would voluntarily spend two weeks without indoor plumbing was daft.

  On Monday morning Randy flew back to Los Angeles and stayed through the following weekend. She had absolutely no problem finding someone to take her place in the apartment—reasonable housing was a scarce commodity. She spent the rest of her time saying goodbye to friends and going to a party or two. In the process she ran into Sean Raley. She couldn't deny that she experienced a little pang of hurt when they said hello, or that she still found him attractive, but her feelings were tepid and easily dismissed. She could hardly fail to notice that the woman he left with wasn't his wife, and decided that she was lucky. It wasn't much fun to be dumped, but it ultimately would have been far worse not to be.

  Chapter Six

  Luke Griffin didn't care for surprises. The more he thought about it, however, the more he wondered whether he was in for one of the most unpleasant surprises of his life when Miranda Dunne walked into the executive offices of C & D on Tuesday afternoon. Could the woman in Maine possibly have been Miranda? True, she'd been anything but a neophyte in the bedroom, but then, the gossip he'd heard about Miranda's exemplary virtue could have been much mistaken. The personality of the woman he'd known in Maine hadn't meshed with his image of Linda Franck, but it hadn't meshed with his image of her sister, either.

  The week after Luke got back he was summoned into Bill Dunne's office to discuss a routine piece of business and he stayed to answer a vague but nonetheless crystal-clear question about how "things" were going. "I talked to Linda the weekend before last," he replied. "I don't think there'll be any further problems." He didn't add that a brief conversation with his brother-in-law had confirmed Linda's version of their "affair". Tom had sounded almost petulant about it, complaining that Linda Franck had only been interested in "acting like a damn therapist".

  "I suggested to my sister that she and Tom see a marriage counselor," he continued, "but she wasn't too receptive. Right now she's blaming Tom for everything, but in time…" He shrugged. "If she has any sense she'll reconsider."

  Bill nodded, saying that he hoped things would work out, and reached for a folder in his "in" basket. Luke could see that he was busy, but decided to stick around for one more question.

  "By the way, Bill, I've been giving some thought to where to begin with Randy, and I don't intend to be easy on her. I want her to be challenged. I'm assuming," he drawled with a smile, "that she's well rested after a couple of weeks in New Hampshire?"

  "So it would seem," Bill answered. "She gained back some of the weight she lost—she was dieting for some blasted movie role—and she got herself a healthy-looking suntan. She'll be back from L.A. next Monday…"

  "And in the office Tuesday afternoon," Luke finished. "I'll see you then, if not before."

  She'd lost weight? he thought uneasily as he walked out the door. He didn't like the sound of that. As he passed by Pat O'Donnell's desk it occurred to him that Bill's secretary might be able to provide enough information to help him figure out just who he'd been with in Maine. Pat was surprised by his invitation to join him for lunch the following afternoon, but accepted nonetheless.

  Luke was aware that Pat O'Donnell was a no-nonsense, straightforward lady with total loyalty to her boss. Obviously he couldn't tell her what was really on his mind, so he'd need to come up with a plausible substitute.

  As soon as they'd ordered their meals the next day he came straight to the supposed point. "You've known Randy Dunne for a long time," he remarked.

  "Nineteen years," Pat agreed.

  "I'll be frank with you, Pat," Luke said. "I want to know what I'm going to have to deal with for the next month or two, and Bill is obviously the wrong person to ask. He thinks his younger daughter is a total angel."

  Pat took a sip of her cocktail, regarding Luke with a measured gaze. "What gives you the idea she's not?" she asked.

  "Other than the fact that nobody could be that perfect?" Luke contrived to sound charmingly nonchalant about the whole topic. "Nobody could be around C & D for very long without being aware that a lot of employees of this company were disappointed when Randy Dunne ran off to California two years ago. Now she's apparently changed her mind about what she wants to do with her life, and common sense tells me that she'll resent the fact that in the meantime someone from outside the family has moved in and gotten himself the inside track on the presidency."

  Pat shook her head. "Not Randy. She's not the type of person who expects to have things handed to her on a silver platter. If she's interested in running the company some day she'll expect to earn the right to be considered." She paused. "Frankly, Luke, I find almost nothing to criticize about—"

  "Almost nothing?" Luke interrupted. "Why almost?"

  "She's learned too well from her sister's mistakes." Pat hesitated, trying to decide whether to explain, and apparently came up with a negative answer. "It's really none of your business, Luke."

  He used his most persuasive smile on her. "But you're going to tell me anyway?" he suggested.

  "Don't try that with me, Luke Griffin. Unless you have a personal interest…"

  "I might." Luke winked at her, determined to get around her scruples. "Bill thinks I should."

  "Bill trusts you too far. Randy is too young for you—not in your league at all," Pat said firmly.

  "After two years in Hollywood? I find that impossible to believe."

  His skepticism succeeded where charm had not. "All right then. Obviously you asked me to lunch to pump me on exactly this subject, and I suppose there's no real reason why I can't satisfy some of your curiosity. People wonder why Linda and Randy are so different, and I think there are some very important reasons beyond their basic personality differences. Linda…"

  "Basic personality differences?" Luke repeated.

  "Yes. Linda is restless and adventuresome. She needs novelty and excitement to be happy. Randy is much calmer, sunny and easygoing and much too likely to let people push her around."

  Pat's description only confused Luke more. The woman in Maine didn't fit either of those thumbnail sketches. He wondered whimsically whether there were a third sister hiding out somewhere.

  "Before you interrupted," Pat continued, leaning forward slightly, "I was about to explain that Linda was the quintessential Manhattan princess as a girl—rich, adorable and spoiled. Maybe Randy would have turned out the same way but two things happened in the meantime. Emily found out she couldn't have any more children and the feminist movement started to gain ground and affect Bill Dunne's thinking. Linda was twelve by then, and already a little reckless and much too sophisticated for her age, but Randy was only eight. I'd been working for Bill for about three years and I remember how surprised I was when he started to involve Randy in the store. After all, we had exactly no women executives back then and e
ven Emily—the boss's daughter—had almost nothing to do with running C & D. At first it was only taking Randy to lunch every month in the store restaurant or having her model children's clothing in fashion shows, but as she grew up her involvement grew also. I think that since Bill didn't have a son and considered Linda a lost cause, he consciously began to groom Randy for a role in the business. You're obviously aware of how many hearts she won. I'm not sure just why she went to California, but maybe it was because Bill pushed too hard. I don't think she was dying for a career in films. Now she seems to have decided that a career at C & D is the right future for her, and personally, I'm delighted by her decision. In my opinion Randy's major problem is that she's put her private life on hold. She would probably die before she'd hurt Bill and Emily by making the kinds of mistakes that Linda's made. Unfortunately, of course, you can't grow up and have real relationships without risking a little pain. Randy is a wonderful young woman but she has a lot to learn about people and about life in general." Pat sat back in her chair. "I've already said far more than I should have, Luke. You're not getting another word out of me."

  As far as Luke was concerned there was no need to keep probing. The person Pat had described was little more than a charming girl and couldn't possibly have been the woman he'd known in Maine. Only one thing continued to bother him, and that was Linda Franck herself. He found himself wanting to see her again, wanting to make love to her. Eventually he even tried to call, but her Cambridge number was unlisted.

  Luke wasn't sure why he picked up the phone again five minutes later and called Roger Bennett, but guilt probably played a role. He'd already swiped one of Roger's girlfriends and doing it a second time when he wasn't really serious about the woman in question would have been hitting below the belt.

  Luke didn't want Roger to know that he was calling about Linda so he opened the conversation by asking a favor—two house seats to Roger's newest Broadway show, which was red-hot despite the summer lull. The two men traded small talk for several more minutes before Luke actually got to the point.