Her Leading Hero

by Maggie Dallen

  “All right, out with it. What do you want?”

  “I’d like you to help Tamara.” Before she could reply, he hurried on, explaining her new position at the theater. “I need her help talking up the theater and its mission. I’ve heard her spiel myself and I think she’d be a natural if she could just get over her fears of returning to her parents’ circle of friends.”

  Elena nodded slowly. “Are you sure she’s ready? It would just be a matter of time before word spread to her family.” She held her hands up in a helpless gesture. “She can’t avoid them forever, much as she might want to.”

  “How she handles her family is up to her, but I do think she’s ready to come out of hiding.” She just needed a nudge. Or a shove. He kept that part to himself. Elena was giving him enough questioning looks; he didn’t need her wondering why he’d taken it upon himself to be Tamara’s personal champion. He had a hard time explaining it to himself. If she weren’t his employee, he’d say it was because he was developing feelings for her.

  But she was his employee, so that excuse wouldn’t fly. Better to avoid Elena’s questions altogether and try not to take too close a look at his own motives while he was at it.

  “So, will you help?” he asked. At Elena’s raised brows, he continued, “You understand this world better than anyone. You know who she should talk to and can help pave the way.”

  “Ah,” Elena said, her eyes flashing with mischievous laughter. “So you’d like me to be her fairy godmother, is that it? Help the prodigal princess return to the fold?”

  He let out a huff of laughter at the mixed metaphor. “Yes, something like that.”

  “Of course, my dear. I’d be happy to help Tammy reinvent herself in the eyes of society.”

  Gregory resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her dramatic flair.

  “We can start Friday night,” she said. “Why don’t you bring her along to our little Christmas gathering?”

  He choked on laughter at her description. The annual Blanchard holiday party was anything but little. But it would be the perfect place for Tamara to start meeting the right people for their cause.

  * * * *

  Tamara paused with one fry hovering in front of her lips as Gregory informed her of Elena’s plan. “So I’ll be…”

  “My date,” Gregory finished. He took a bite of his burger, looking completely at ease with the fact that he was turning her world upside down over a casual working lunch at Cagney’s.

  Tamara clamped her mouth shut to keep from hyperventilating. Date. He wanted her to be his date. At a famed Blanchard holiday party. Breathe, Tamara. In, out. In, out.

  She’d agreed to meet him to brainstorm ways they could get more funding and use the space to bring in more of a cash flow. Most of all, Gregory’s plan seemed to hinge on changing the perception of the theater from a struggling relic to a trendy, retro taste of glamour.

  Tamara had to admit that as a backdrop for the costume fundraiser, the theater had been easy to envision as a classy, elegant venue. A place where sophistication was still in style and people still dressed up for the theater. How to promote that image was the problem. Money and influence were the solutions, according to Gregory.

  Specifically, money via patrons of the arts and influence via the city’s best trendsetters.

  Gregory had made it sound so easy as they’d made notes in the tiny office above the theater. But now, over lunch, she was beginning to see what a challenge this would be. And by challenge, she meant “mistake on a monumental scale.” She couldn’t do this. No way, no how.

  Why the hell had she agreed to this?

  “I remember the Blanchard holiday parties,” she said. It was all she could think to say. She was trying too hard not to panic to think of anything more worthwhile to add to the conversation.

  “You do?” His lips curved up in amusement, and she tried not to stare.

  Of course she remembered. Her parents went every year, and up until she’d moved to New York, she’d joined them. “I remember your mother, too,” she added.

  “Stepmother,” he corrected. “She’s hard to forget.” He was full-on smiling now, and it made his eyes glow with a warmth she felt to her core.

  What she didn’t add was that she remembered him at those parties. She could vividly recall watching him with whatever girlfriend he’d invited that year and trying not to be too jealous.

  But that was ages ago, when he was just her crush. Now he was her boss. Big difference.

  Sitting up a little taller, she forced herself to stay on task. She’d agreed to this, hadn’t she? Now she had to suck it up and do her job. But that was so much easier said than done.

  This party would be filled with the type of people her parents were friends with. What if word got back to her parents? The guilt she tried so hard to avoid nearly crippled her as a vision of her mother’s face flashed in her mind. She wore the disappointed look Tamara remembered so well. She couldn’t bring herself to think about what her mother’s expression would be if she learned from one of her friends that her runaway daughter had not only surfaced but had shown up at one of her friend’s parties.

  She might have been angry with her parents—okay, maybe she was still angry when she thought of the way they’d betrayed her trust, taking Billy’s word over her own. But that didn’t mean she wanted to hurt them. At least, not any more than she already had.

  She swallowed the sick taste of guilt, but a terrifying thought had her freezing in place. “What if my parents are there?”

  He stopped eating and looked over at her, his eyes wide with surprise. “They won’t be.”

  Panic had her clutching the edge of the table, her knuckles whitening as she struggled to remain calm. His word wasn’t good enough. They went every year—at least they had when she’d still lived with them. If they were there…oh God, what would she say? How could she explain?

  There was every possibility they didn’t want to see her. She couldn’t just surprise them at a holiday party after six long years.

  Gregory was eyeing her warily.

  She leaned over the table, hoping for some sort of reassurance that he would never be able to give. This man couldn’t tell her if her parents hated her after the way she’d fled. She wasn’t even sure she believed him that they definitely wouldn’t be at the party. “How do you know they won’t be there? They always go.”

  He resumed eating his fries as if they were discussing the weather and not the family she hadn’t seen in six years. “They’ll be in Florence with the Rutneys for the holidays, according to Elena.”

  “Oh.” She should have felt relief, but instead her stomach was churning—a physical reaction that had a tendency to happen when topics she avoided like the plague reared their ugly heads and forced her to face her past.

  She stared at the table and mindlessly toyed with her food, for lack of anything better to do. She tried not to focus on the fact that a relative stranger knew her parents’ holiday plans when she did not. And now, knowing where they’d be and who they’d be with, it would be more painful than ever when she thought of them this holiday season. That first year after she’d left her family behind, she’d told herself it would get easier. And in some ways it had. She’d gotten better at shoving unwanted thoughts aside. She’d learned how to escape her thoughts through old movies and new friends. But in other ways, the longer she was away from her family, the harder it was. The distance between them seemed to grow exponentially. The things they should have talked about—the things she should have said—weighed on her, and the weight grew heavier with each passing year.

  She should have talked to them before she’d left. That was her biggest regret. She’d been so hurt, so confused, so angry. Her ex was the one to blame—he’d been the one who’d worn away her confidence, manipulated her trust, and beaten her down with his emotional abuse.

  Yet
at the time, she’d been far more hurt by her parents’ betrayal. At least that’s how it had felt. She’d expected them to trust her and her judgment, not believe that sociopath of an ex. She’d hoped they’d support her and be strong on her behalf, but instead she saw their embarrassment and shame because their daughter had been drawn into scandal.

  She’d prayed they would stand by her side and help her to sort through the mess that her life had become. But they hadn’t. They’d shipped her off to a mental health facility where she’d known no one.

  She forced herself to shove those thoughts into the sealed-off cave in the back of her mind. At this point it was ancient history. Except that it never seemed to truly go away.

  Something else nagged at her. Gregory had talked to his stepmother about her. She did remember his stepmother—she’d always liked her. Elegant and kind, the woman had been good to Tamara when she was a girl. She tried not to think about what his stepmother had told him about her, but it was hard not to. Because as much as she’d like to think it was ancient history, people remembered. And people loved to talk. She had to imagine that Elena had filled Gregory in on more details. Maybe she’d heard Billy’s version of events and had told Gregory that she’d cracked under the pressure of the big city. Or maybe she’d told him how she’d run away from her family without a word.

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  She was surprised to look up and find him leaning over the table, his hand reaching out, almost as if he was going to grasp hers, but he stopped short. The concern in his eyes made her heart squeeze. Here was a guy who knew about her past—or enough rumors, at least, to get the gist—and he was not only still here, he was helping her. Supporting her. Hell, he was practically holding her hand through it all.

  Which made the words that much more difficult to get out. “I’m sorry.”

  His brows drew together in confusion. “Sorry for what?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t. I just can’t.”

  Understanding filled his gaze, and she looked away before she could see his disappointment in her. It was too similar to the look in her parents’ eyes when they’d made excuses for her to their friends. She couldn’t stand to think about that look, let alone see it in Gregory’s eyes. “I know I said I could do this—be the face of the theater. And I will, I promise. But I need some time.”

  His silence lasted so long that she finally looked up to see his reaction. To her surprise, a hint of a smile played on his lips as he watched her. There was no hint of the disappointment she’d been so afraid of seeing.

  “We’ll see,” he said. Reaching out a hand, he brushed back a strand of her hair, and she shivered at the intimate contact.

  “We’ll see?” she repeated.

  “We’ve got a little time, and I think I can change your mind.”

  He was serious, she realized. Whatever it was he had planned, he seemed confident that he’d be a success. But why? He was going to so much trouble when most people in his position would have given her up as a hopeless cause on day one. His attention was sweet and humbling at the same time.

  “Why?” It came out unbidden, but once it was out there she found she needed to hear his answer.

  “Why what?” Some of the concern faded, and he was grinning at her now in amusement.

  She cleared her throat. “Why are you helping me like this?”

  His smile broadened and he shook his head. “I told you, I need your help.”

  “But why? Why do you even care about this theater in the first place? And why do you care that it’s a success? And why do you care that it remains true to its original purpose? And why…” Why do you care about me?

  She let her words trail off before she said too much. He leaned back in his seat. “Contrary to popular opinion, I do care about things other than making money and dating TV stars.”

  Tamara felt heat rising in her cheeks. She was still mortified at the way she’d devoured all the gossip on his latest romance. “I didn’t mean to imply—”

  He held up a hand to stop her apology. “I know you didn’t. To be honest, I was intrigued by the theater and its history after the fundraiser, and…”

  She dropped her head to avoid meeting his gaze. Memories of that night still made her embarrassed. When he didn’t continue, she looked up. “And?” she prompted.

  He sighed. “Okay, I’ll admit it. I may have bought the place to spite my father.”

  Tamara’s mouth fell open. Who the hell buys a theater as an act of vengeance?

  He laughed at her reaction. “Believe me, I know what a spoiled brat I sound like.”

  Laughter won out. “You really do.”

  He shrugged. “I can’t help it. My father brings out the worst in me.”

  A memory rose of Gregory getting in trouble for taking his father’s car out when he’d been told not to. “I remember that, too.”

  His eyes narrowed on her as he gave her a teasing smile. “That’s some memory you have there.”

  She kept her mouth shut. Her ridiculous crush might have been ages ago, but it was still embarrassing to bring up now. Especially because he could take that to mean that she was still attracted to him.

  Which she was.

  Yeah, but he didn’t have to know that. She wanted to ask him more—what his father had done this time to provoke him into buying a theater—but before she could, they were interrupted.

  Ben and Caitlyn came through the front door and headed straight for them. “Well, look who we’ve got here,” Ben said, sliding into the booth next to Tamara.

  “It’s everyone’s favorite hero,” Caitlyn finished, as she sat down next to Gregory and gave him a peck on the cheek.

  Ben looked to Tamara. “I’d be jealous about that kiss if I wasn’t tempted to kiss the man myself for swooping in and saving the theater from some developer’s dastardly plans.”

  Tamara giggled at her new friend’s over-the-top tone.

  Gregory rolled his eyes at the praise. “Dastardly developer? You wouldn’t be referring to yourself, now would you, Ben?”

  Ben waved away the accusation. “Ancient history, my friend. Besides, you’re the man of the hour now, don’t try to be modest.”

  “It’s true,” Caitlyn said, leaning over to help herself to one of Tamara’s fries. “Pushing the theater through the landmarks committee was help enough. No one expected you to actually buy the place.”

  He shrugged. “I just made a couple of calls.”

  Tamara bit her lip to keep from laughing. Just a couple of calls. He made it sound so easy. He made everything seem easy. With that cool confidence and natural charm, Gregory would never have run from his problems. He would never need to find power by manipulating the people around him. He would never exploit their weakness or make a woman his prey.

  For the first time in a long time, Tamara found herself wondering “what if?” What if she hadn’t met Billy all those years ago. What if Gregory had been her first boyfriend, like she’d always dreamed?

  She shook her head and forced a smile as Ben and Gregory teased Caitlyn about Operation Petticoat. Their little ragtag group of volunteers wouldn’t be needed for much longer if Gregory’s plan was a success and they got the funds to restore the place properly.

  “We’ll still meet,” Caitlyn said. “Won’t we, Tam?”

  Tamara forced away the melancholy “what if” thoughts and smiled at her friend. “Of course we will, we’ll just have to skip over the gum-scraping and get right down to the fun part.”

  “Mmm,” Caitlyn agreed. “We do like to have our post-work drinks.” Her face brightened. “And no more early morning Saturdays!”

  “Thank God,” Ben groaned.

  Caitlyn smacked his shoulder. “What are you moaning about? You’ve only been to one Operation Petticoat meet-up.” Turning to Tamara, she added, “He’s slept right throug
h every other one.”

  “Exactly,” Ben said. “Now I won’t have to feel guilty about skipping the work part. I am still invited to drinks, right?”

  “Not so fast, my lazy friend,” Gregory said. “We won’t be hiring more staff until the theater starts bringing in money. So for the time being…”

  “Operation Petticoat is still in effect,” Tamara finished for him.

  Ben groaned as Caitlyn laughed. “We’ll be there bright and early.”

  Ben turned to Gregory. “Does that mean you’ll be part of the Saturday crew?”

  Gregory shook his head. “Sorry, buddy, I’ll be out of town on business this week.”

  Tamara looked down at her plate full of food and hoped her disappointment didn’t show. He was her boss, nothing more. Even if the memory of that kiss made her lips tingle every time she thought about it. Which, it seemed, was every other second.

  “We’ll let you off the hook this time,” Caitlyn said. “There should be more than enough of us to get the work done quickly.”

  “Yeah, and our ranks keep growing,” Tamara added. At Caitlyn’s questioning look, she explained, “Marc was going to see if Alex wanted to join.”

  Ben added, “And I wouldn’t be surprised if Alice showed up with a date one of these days.”

  “Seriously?” Tamara asked.

  Caitlyn nodded. “Sounds like things are heating up with her and that doctor.”

  Ben leaned over and donned a ridiculous old-timey accent. “So what about you, Tam-Tam. When are you going to bring a fella to the party?”

  All eyes were on her—including Gregory’s. Please do not blush, please do not blush. Too late. She felt the telltale heat creeping into her cheeks at the unwanted attention.

  Caitlyn jumped in, probably thinking she was helping. Reaching across the table, she smacked Ben on the arm. “Don’t be an idiot.”

  “Ow! What?” he whined as he rubbed his arm.

  “You know Tamara doesn’t date, and that’s her prerogative. Leave her alone,” Caitlyn scolded.

  That led to another round of teasing bickering as Tamara tried to fade into the booth. But her attempt to become invisible didn’t appear to work. She felt Gregory’s gaze on her even before she looked up.