So what exactly was she going to do with him?
This was why she hated surprises. She couldn’t think on her feet like this. She needed to meticulously plan things out. After all, she wasn’t just thinking about herself, she was thinking about Hannah as well. Planning gave her a feeling of stability and control in her life—something her ex-husband not only couldn’t provide but had thought boring. Steve may have thought bringing a child into the world was dull, but she didn’t. She didn’t take one second of it for granted and she was going to make darn sure she did her best job—especially if she had to play her boss card and call all the shots to make sure her business succeeded. Unfortunately, she had a feeling that Ben Capshaw was used to calling the shots too.
It was only going to be for a few days though. She could give up a little control for such a short amount of time, couldn’t she? What was she, some control-freak?
Yep.
And pathetic. Don’t forget pathetic. She’d just swooned over his body the other day. Oh yeah, definitely add pathetic.
A knock at her door had her straightening then flipping the hair off her shoulders. She prayed it wasn’t her sister ready to gush all over her again about having a celebrity in their midst. “Come in,” she called.
Her employee and friend, Carol, marched in and swung the door closed behind her. Looking ready to rumble, her green eyes darted to Sandra. “Missy just told me what’s going on.” Her eyes searched all over the room as she tucked her shoulder-length brown hair behind both ears. “Where is he? And most importantly, why isn’t he observing my class?”
Sandra folded her hands, trying to apply her usual, controlled poise to the whole unsettling situation. “Who?” she heard herself ask.
Carol gaped at her. “Oh, come off it, Sandra. Ben Capshaw? Ring a bell?”
She winced. “Oh. Well, I told him he had to shave and get a haircut. Don’t worry, he’ll be back tomorrow.” Unfortunately.
“Shave and a haircut? Oh no, don’t tell me you got all motherly on him.”
“No, I did not get all motherly on him,” she echoed irritably. “He looked like a ZZ Top reject. I didn’t want him scaring the children.”
Carol rolled her eyes. “Let me tell you, if Ben Capshaw is a reject in your eyes, you need to see an optometrist. That man is beautiful, and I don’t use that word lightly when describing men either. There’s just no other way to describe him.”
“I’m sorry, but I didn’t notice.” Liar, liar.
All right, maybe Sandra had noticed he had nice eyes—an unusual swirled-up mixture of green and gray with just a tinge of gold around the pupils. Oh, and his body. His body was pretty beautiful too, now that she thought of it. Again.
But that was all.
Sandra sat down at her desk, suddenly feeling all flushed and tingly. “You and Missy can admire him all you want, but I don’t have time to monkey around with that Hollywood nonsense.” She picked up her lesson plans and waved them in the air to prove her point—and to cool herself.
Carol made a face. “Hollywood nonsense? Does this poor attitude of yours have anything to do with Steve?”
Her jaw tightened at the mere mention of her ex-husband. “No, don’t be silly. It has nothing to do with Steve. I wouldn’t be interested in Ben Capshaw if he was an orthopedic surgeon—and you know how much I adore doctors. The man is clearly a self-centered, game-playing womanizer.”
“So…you’re saying this does have to do with Steve?”
She shot Carol a deadpan look. Then she remembered Ben Capshaw getting stuck in the slide that day at the park. “Apparently Mr. Capshaw’s not too bright either.”
“Okay. Fine. He’s obviously not your type. The less competition the better anyway.”
“Don’t you have a class to teach?” she asked dryly.
“Yeah, I’m going.” Carol smiled. “I love Bring your favorite stuffed animal day.”
Sandra smiled too. “Yeah, Hannah brought her green dog, Greeny. I’m going to take a peek in on them in a second.”
There was another knock, but this time the door opened before she could say “come in”. Missy floated in on what looked like an unnatural natural high, beaming smiles at the two of them as well as every inanimate object in her path. “I’m in love,” she sang.
Both Carol and Sandra frowned at that announcement.
Planting her hands on her hips, Carol got within an inch of Missy’s face. “What do mean, you’re in love? It better not be with a certain man whose initials are B.C.”
Sandra blew out a sigh. She knew having Ben Capshaw around was going to be a disaster. Now she had her two preschool teachers in a tug-of-war. Was it too late to prevent him from coming? “Okay, break it up, you guys. You know movie stars and women. What makes you think he doesn’t have a girlfriend already?”
They both looked at her like she was the Grim Reaper.
“Oh, no, you’re wrong,” Missy assured her. “Movie Idol says he hasn’t been seeing anyone specific for over a year now. He’s very eligible.”
“That’s right,” Carol snapped, looking pointedly at Missy. “He’s still eligible.”
So much for that bright idea, Sandra thought wryly. She would have to have a talk with Mr. Capshaw tomorrow. Let him know the ground rules so that Carol and Missy’s infatuation wouldn’t get out of hand and disrupt their teaching. She was sure, being an attractive celebrity, he had to deal with things like over-adoring fans all the time.
“You know, I—” Sandra stopped and gaped at the two women. “Who’s watching the children?”
Missy and Carol both flinched, looked at one another, and made a mad dash out of her office like a bad Three Stooges’ episode—which at any other time would have made her crack up laughing. Instead, she sagged further in her chair. Ben Capshaw wasn’t even on the premises yet, and he was already disrupting their school. She could only imagine what tomorrow had in store for her. She supposed she could always get lucky. Maybe he’d change his mind and not show after all.
And maybe that was just wishful thinking.
It was definitely wishful thinking.
There he was, Ben Capshaw—movie star extraordinaire—standing right in front of her school as she pulled in to work the next morning. It figured he would be early too, probably just to spite her. He knew darn well she didn’t want him there. She put the car in park and gave him a good, hard look.
Hmm. At least…she assumed it was him standing there. It was hard to tell without all that hair.
He obviously took her very seriously when she suggested he should shave. The beard and mustache were gone, and although his golden-brown hair was still long, he had it neatly tied back in a low ponytail. His clothes were a lot neater too. He wasn’t wearing jeans, which surprised her since he knew he’d be working with children. Instead, he wore tan pants and a crisp white dress shirt with just enough buttons undone to provide a glimpse of a few chest hairs while still looking conservative.
Wow, what a difference a day makes. Now he appeared before her, not like some convicted criminal, but like every woman’s secret fantasy—a handsome movie star.
Oh, no, she thought, concerned about how her heart rate had just spiked. Carol was right.
Ben Capshaw was beautiful. That could easily be determined even though she couldn’t see his whole face behind his mirrored sunglasses. Of course, she’d seen pictures of him in magazines before and had even seen a few of his movies, but in person he was absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful. How on earth did she ever believe this man was an ex-con? Maybe she did need to have her eyes examined.
“Mommy, who’s that man?” Hannah asked.
“Huh? Oh, he’s…um… He’s going to be a helper teacher to Aunt Missy. Isn’t that nice?”
Nice?
She almost laughed out loud at that one. After he threatened to sue her? Yeah, right. There was nothing nice about Ben Capshaw—aside from his eyes, and, of course, his body.
She shut off the engine and stepped o
ut. As soon as she was in his sights, a slow grin stretched across his face. She was mortified further when she felt her stomach muscles tighten in response.
Get a grip, Sandra. The man is here for one thing only—not to quench your three-year man drought.
“Good morning, Miss Sandra,” he called with abundant cheerfulness.
Trying to ignore her body’s response to him and his ridiculously jovial mood, she walked around her car to let Hannah out.
He wasn’t fazed and strolled up to her with arms spread out, seemingly determined to get her attention. “Well?” he prompted.
She glanced at him again and had to swallow the pool of saliva that collected on her tongue. Oh dear. He looked even more gorgeous close up.
Sandra knew darn well he wanted her to comment on his clean-shaven appearance, but she wasn’t about to satisfy his already overly inflated ego. “You’re early,” she told him instead, but there was a hint of breathlessness in her voice.
“I know.” He smiled. She could have sworn she saw his teeth actually twinkle when the sunlight hit them. Besides body and eyes, she added teeth to that list of positive attributes. Thank goodness she wouldn’t be with him during the day and that he’d be observing Missy’s classroom.
“Your sister said you’re here around this time every day,” he continued in amusement. Then he looked down at her daughter. “Hi. What’s your name, honey?”
Her daughter clung to Sandra’s leg. “My name’s Hannah.”
“Oh, yeah? How old are you, Hannah?”
“I’m four. Not five or six yet. But I’ll be that soon. I’m still growing every day. My mommy said so.”
He raised his eyebrows, pretending to be impressed. “I can see that. Soon you’ll be like your mommy and just as pretty. Maybe prettier,” he added with a wink
Hannah beamed. Sandra set her teeth.
Her daughter was already being added to the list of females charmed by the likes of one Ben Capshaw. “Let’s go in,” Sandra told him curtly. “I’ve a lot of work to do before we open.”
Ben took the keys from her hand and walked over to open the front door for her. She wasn’t surprised when he made a gallant show of allowing her entry first. She stepped past him and flipped on the lights, then she bent down and unbuttoned Hannah’s sweater. Afterwards, Hannah went charging into the playroom.
“Well, Mr. Capshaw, you can have a seat and wait here in the hall until Missy gets in. I’m sure she’ll be happy to explain the morning routine to you then Oh, and I’d appreciate it if you turned off your cell phone while you’re in class too.” She dismissed him by walking into her office.
He didn’t take the hint.
He followed her in and closed the door behind them. “I can’t help but notice you’re still mad at me.”
She sat down and cocked her head. “It’s so nice to know your sense of worth hasn’t blocked your sense of perception.”
He smiled, not at all affected by her snide commentary. “Well, as you can see, I’m more than just a pretty face.” He finally took off his sunglasses, allowing her to see a lazy glint in his eyes that wanted to tease. “Look, I said I’m sorry. I want us to be friends.”
Sandra didn’t have success with male friends—or even husbands for that matter. In her experience, when a man said he wanted to be friends, it meant he wanted to date her. Since Ben Capshaw was not your run-of-the-mill ordinary man, but a nationally known movie star, she expected it meant he wanted to cut to the chase and just sleep with her. A proposition like that was easy to resist.
“I don’t think so,” she said, taking out the copies of the shapes and colors lesson she had printed up.
He made himself comfortable by sitting on her desk—on her shapes and colors lesson. She was forced to look up, surprised she wasn’t hit hard with the scent of some expensive cologne or aftershave. Instead, he smelled like soap—and man. Oh dear. She felt her resistance slip a notch.
He leaned in closer. “Why not? You can never have too many friends. And I’ve been told I’m a very good friend.”
“I’m sure you do very well with friends, but no thank you. Besides, friend, you’ll be out of here in a few days anyhow. I suggest you make the most of your research and not waste it trying to cozy up to me.”
His grin fell as he sat back. “Okay, I guess I should just be grateful enough you’re allowing me to do this in the first place.”
“You didn’t give me much choice.”
He slid off her desk and shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose that’s true.”
“Wait,” she called when he walked toward the door. “One more thing. It seems your, ah, charms have temporarily blinded my sister and staff. I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t encourage their attention.”
Amusement shot to those gray-green eyes of his. “Jealous?”
Her mouth fell open. “No, of course not. I-I just don’t want it affecting their teaching. Look, when you’re here, I want you concentrating on your research. When you go back to California or New York or wherever you have your multimillion-dollar house, you can start adding women to your personal harem again.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “I did notice how your sister looked at me yesterday. You’d be surprised how often that happens.”
She responded with a heavy helping of sarcasm. “A movie star attracting women? Wow, that is surprising. Oh, please do tell, because that is the most fascinating piece of information I’ve heard in…oh, I don’t know how long.”
He chuckled. “I guess it is a pretty standard response.”
“Well, don’t count me in your generalizations.”
He scratched his chin. “Yeah. I couldn’t help but notice that too.” His voice was easy, but he regarded her with such intent she thought he’d leave a burned eyeball imprint. “So what, you have something against men or just celebrities in general?”
“I don’t have anything against men or celebrities. In general,” she added.
“Ah, so it’s just me. You know you’re doing one hell of a hatchet job on my ego.” He gave her a crooked grin that conveyed his ego was hardly suffering.
She knew he was just trying to charm her like he had her sister—more acting, she supposed—but she refused to fall into the trap. “I wouldn’t worry. From what I’ve heard about you, I’m sure there’ll be plenty of women willing to nurse it back to health.”
He waved a finger, making a tsk-tsk sound. “I’m getting the feeling you’re judging me again.”
“Am I wrong about the hordes of women waiting for you?”
He frowned. “Oh. Well…ah…that…ah—”
“Never mind,” she said, waving off his jumbled answer. “I doubt your kind has ever been in a monogamous relationship longer than twenty-four hours.”
“My kind?” He seemed so truly insulted, she almost laughed. “Hey, I can be a one-woman type of man as much as the next guy. And maybe someday I will. I just don’t want to now—at this point in my life, anyway.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, I’ll believe that when I read it in the papers. In the meantime, try to control yourself and keep your hands off my staff.” She picked up a pen and proceeded to fill out her book order form.
“Okay, okay. Don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours. I’ll just apprise them of the facts.”
She felt a twinge of alarm and looked up. “What facts would those be?”
“Well, I’ll have to let the ladies know I’m exclusively yours for the time being.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“What better way to keep the women at arm’s distance than by saying we’re already involved?”
“Why can’t you just tell them you’re working and can’t fool around?”
A slow, lethal grin broke out. “Well, for one thing, I’d like very much to fool around, and two, as a celebrity, you turn down a woman and you’re automatically labeled as gay.”
“Are you serious?”
He didn’t answer. His eyes just filled with a
musement.
“Oh, for goodness sakes!” she cried. “A man can say no if he wants to. That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”
“Yes. Ridiculous, but true. Not that I’ve ever had to worry about those rumors before.” He grinned sheepishly. “I can’t seem to say no.”
She gave him an incredulous look. “You’re an infant walking around in a man’s body. You know that, don’t you?”
“You’d be surprised how often I hear that too.”
Sandra had heard enough, and it hadn’t improved her opinion about him one bit.
“Okay.” She dropped her pen and sighed. “That’s it. We’re going to establish some rules. Right here and right now. Got it?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “When you’re here, you’re going to be a preschool teacher—nothing else. You’re not a movie star—you’re barely even a man as far as I'm concerned—you’re an employee. Which means I want you to do your share of the work with the children. Which means I want you to take what you’re doing here seriously and not just for some callous lark or Romeo escapade, which is what I’m sure you’re thinking this is. Which particularly means I don’t want you making any adoring googley eyes at me, my sister, or my staff.” She paused to take a breath, a little surprised at how tough she could make herself sound. “Understand?”
He stared at her a moment, unblinking and very still, as though he were contemplating a good old-fashioned neck-wringing—mainly hers. Her hand instinctively went to her throat.
But then his expression softened, his shoulders relaxed, and he crossed his heart, giving her an almost-perfect Boy Scout grin. “I understand.”
Unfortunately, his words didn’t give her much comfort.
The Role of a Lifetime Page 3