From Fake to Forever

by Jennifer Shirk

  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, as Missy had promised. 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 endure 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’d felt a trickle of disappointment at his adamant assurance that the kiss they’d shared yesterday would never happen again. Ben had promised 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’d wanted from him from day one.

  Wasn’t it?

  She shook her head at herself. 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’d actually owned up to being the rat she knew he was all along—a rarity for someone of his gender. His honest confession of joking around with that kiss almost made him seem un-rat-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. Probably 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’d 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 the fresh ocean air would help clear her jumbled-up thoughts about Ben, too.

  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 asked. “I swear one of the moms recognized me, or maybe she was just flirting. Either way, it’s bad. 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 had happened between them—as though he’d never kissed her.

  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 his chair.

  “Um, okay.” She couldn’t sound any more 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? 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 back, emphasizing the last syllable of her name. “And 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’d 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.”

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

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

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

  “So…” he began, his hands steepled together in his lap, “what truths shall we discover today?”

  She sighed. “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t play any more games.”

  “No games. Just talk. I like to hear you talk. Tell me more about yourself, what your favorite color is, or better yet, what your favorite movie of mine is.” He leaned in, his gaze and attention so solely focused on her that heat automatically crept up her cheeks.

  Ben did seem to be a good listener. Then again, he had admitted he liked to observe people as part of his character preparation. He was good, that was for sure. He had a sneaky way of drawing people into conversation. Another gift he had. But she had opened up enough to him. More than she had to anyone in a long while.

  “Why don’t you tell me something about the great Ben Capshaw?” she asked instead.

  His brow slowly raised. “You really want to know more about me?”

  She nodded and found she truly did.

  “Okay. What do you want to know?”

  What do I want to know? For starters, who was that chick Courtney on the phone the other day? How many women have you slept with? “What’s your favorite color?”

  He gazed into her eyes and smiled. “Definitely blue.”

  Oh, he really was good, but she could now see his flirting was a way to keep people just above the surface. He might have agreed to answer her questions, but his posture definitely had stiffened. “What’s your favorite food?”

  “Meat.”

  “How inclusive of you. Your favorite movie?”

  “Any of the ones I’ve starred in.”

  Sandra held in a sigh. She was getting nowhere fast and made a decision to cut to the chase and see how he responded. “Do you miss home?”

  His mouth fell open for a split second, but he quickly recovered. “Miss…what?”

  “Do you miss home? You know, Hollywood. I imagine it must seem pretty dull around here in comparison.”

  “I can honestly say I haven’t been bored since being here.” He would have stopped there, but she nodded, encouraging him to go on. “Yes, I do miss California. People call a lot—some actual friends and some acquaintances—wanting to go out and try a new restaurant, and there’s usually an award show I’m asked to attend or present at, which keeps me in a constant state of busyness when I’m not working on a movie. So yeah, I miss all that.”

  “Doesn’t sound like you’re home a lot.”

  He looked away. “I’m not. Prefer it that way.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged, shifting in his seat. “I spent enough time home alone as a kid. Now that I’m an adult, I can tell you that it sucks just the same.”

  Sandra blinked. The easygoing playboy veneer Ben wore like his favorite under
wear had finally slipped, and she caught a glimpse of the real man underneath all the smiles and charm. Unfortunately, what she’d seen captivated her more than any on-screen performance he’d given in the past.

  “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 today?”

  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. “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, though 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. “That’s where we’re going to have lunch.”

  “Pizza,” Hannah cut in.

  “Yes, pizza,” she agreed.

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

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

  Ben rubbed his hands together 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 be 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 item on his list of things to do today, right after his Swedish massage. He’d just told her he missed going out to award shows and new restaurants. Not once did he mention amusement piers. He’d probably have a good laugh at that later while he was eating lobster stuffed with caviar. Too bad—for her daughter, that was. Hannah obviously missed a father-type figure in her life. 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, 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 by now.

  “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 serious. He really didn’t want her getting him out of lunch on the boardwalk. 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 dully. “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. I stopped at a convenience store the other day and got accosted by two teenage girls who recognized me as soon as I reached for a gallon of milk. One of them even pinched my—”

  “I get it,” Sandra said, holding up a hand.

  “I’m just saying. Fame isn’t easy.”

  Poor baby. “So now 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 even 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 scary 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.”

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

  Sandra poked a finger in his chest but grinned. “Don’t make me regret this, 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.”

  A warm, tingly feeling spread to her bones and enveloped her as though he had wrapped his arms around her instead of simply kissing her hand. She swallowed hard and tugged back her hand. Even the simplest contact with him wreaked havoc with her insides. She doubted a friendship with him was possible now, but this was just going to be a light lunch—not some scene out of When Harry Met Sally. They’d be eating pizza, out in the open with her very own preschooler chaperone. Besides, she wasn’t so smitten she couldn’t control herself and still have a pleasant afternoon with her daughter.

  She glanced at Hannah, who’d been watching their interaction with silent interest, and decided to end the show. Snatching her car keys off her desk, she jangled them in the air. “Let’s go, then.”

  …

  “Thanks for helping me bring that thing in the house. But you really didn’t have to.”

  Ben poked his head around the gigantic yellow Care Bear he had locked in his arms.

  “No, I really had to,” he grunted, squeezing through her front door. “I would have felt terrible if you didn’t show up for work for days because you tripped and got pinned under this thing.”

  Sandra bit back a laugh. She didn’t know which was funnier, watching him try to carry the oversize stuffed animal or watching him try to win it. “Yeah, I don’t think it’s covered under my insurance. That bear has health hazard written all over it.”

  Hannah struggled to free herself from her jacket. “He’s not health hazard. His name is Funshine.”

  Sandra smiled and walked over to help her daughter. “Maybe you should thank Big Bens again for winning that for you. After all, it had to have cost him over fifty dollars’ worth of rings,” she added with a smirk.

  Ben flopped the Care Bear onto a kitchen chair and placed his hands on his hips. “Why didn’t you tell me that ring-toss game was a scam?”

  “Isn’t it common knowledge? You know, like how you’re
not supposed to drink the water here.”

  He paled. “I’m not supposed to drink the water?”

  She laughed. “Oops.”

  “You know, you wouldn’t be so high and mighty if I took you out of your little New Jersey element.” He shot her a dangerous grin. “There are plenty of secrets we Californians have, too.”

  “Like what?”

  “Sorry, but if I told you, I’d have to kill you.” He shrugged. “I don’t make the rules. I’m just thinking of your daughter’s welfare.”

  “I’m sure.”

  Sandra took off her sweater and hung it up. When she turned toward Ben again, their eyes locked. That’s when she realized that she actually had Ben Capshaw, the movie star, standing in her very own house—or more like her very own kitchen. Her tiny, suddenly cramped kitchen. She’d been having such a good time, she’d forgotten who he really was.

  “Mommy, I’m getting hungry,” Hannah said, dragging the bear to her toy chest.

  “Hungry? We just had pizza on the boardwalk.”

  Ben cleared his throat. “Uh, Sandra, it’s almost five o’clock now.”

  Her eyes shot to the clock on her wall. “I can’t believe it’s so late. Time really flew, didn’t it? Well, I can heat up leftover meat loaf.” She paused, staring at Ben. “Um, I have more than enough if you’d like to stay for dinner—which you don’t have to. I just don’t want to seem rude and—”

  “That sounds awesome,” Ben said, quickly shrugging out of his leather jacket and making himself at home.

  Sandra bit her lip, again surprised by his willingness to stay. “I wouldn’t describe my meat loaf like that until you’ve tasted it. I don’t think it will be what you’re used to.”

  “I’ve only had one decent meal this week, and that was at my agent’s house. The rest has all been takeout. Believe me, it’ll be a good thing it’s not what I’m used to.”

  Hannah wandered up to her, waving a Care Bear DVD. Sandra took it and handed it over to Ben. “Would you mind popping that in for her?”