From Fake to Forever

by Jennifer Shirk

  Sandra leaned back and lightly banged her head against the wall. “This is terrible. I’m having the worst day,” she mumbled to herself.

  Carol checked her watch. “Your morning’s half over. How much worse could it get?”

  “Since when did you become a glass-is-half-full kind of person? What am I going to say to a Hollywood agent? Isn’t there some kind of lingo I should know first?”

  “Sandra, if there’s one person who can hold her own, it’s you.” Carol held up the bananas. “Besides, we all have our own battles. You’d think these kids never saw food before. Hopefully I won’t get my hand bitten off.” She spun around and tossed back, “Have fun.”

  “Thanks,” she murmured.

  Sandra placed the bag on the floor and braced herself for a serious mowing over as she walked into her office. Luckily, she had a moment before the onslaught, because Ben’s agent was talking on her cell phone. Sandra closed the door behind her, and the woman, so engrossed in what the other person on the line was saying, didn’t glance up.

  Ben’s agent was a petite sort of woman with a blondish-brown mixture of heavily highlighted hair worn in a sleek, chin-length bob. Her clothes were nice—not Coco Chanel nice, but neat and of good quality. The woman shifted and uncrossed her legs, nodding into the phone. Her head was still bowed, and she held a finger in her opposite ear. Sandra wondered if the woman even knew she was standing there, so Sandra cleared her throat. His agent responded by turning her back.

  “That’s right,” the woman barked, making Sandra jump. “He’s worth millions. He won’t settle for less.”

  Sandra’s interest suddenly was caught. Was the agent talking about Ben? Was Ben really worth millions? Of course he was. She’d forgotten about the kind of life he had back in California. Forgotten he wasn’t a normal good-looking man she and her daughter enjoyed spending time with. She walked over and sat at her desk and tried not to look as if she was eavesdropping.

  “Good,” his agent said into the phone. “Look, I gotta go. Sure. Maybe lunch.” She ended the phone call and rolled her eyes at Sandra. “Yeah, right. Like I’d be caught dead having lunch with a hack like that.”

  Sandra just smiled politely, hoping the woman wasn’t looking for a comment.

  Without the resemblance of a smile or anything at all heartwarming, the woman stuck out her hand. “I’m Ben Capshaw’s agent, Denise Marsters. You can call me Denise. I was the one who set everything up with you to have him come here.”

  “Oh, that was my sister, Melissa, who set everything up.”

  “So you’re…Sandra Moyer, then?”

  “Yes.”

  Ben’s agent sat back and looked at her as if she was trying to soak that piece of information in. “It’s very nice to meet you. Ben’s told me a little bit about you.”

  Her heart shifted rhythm. “He did?”

  “Sure. Ben mentions all his…friends to me. But then again, he makes friends fast. He’s a great guy and one of my favorite clients. He’s practically a so—uh, younger brother to me. But that’s not the reason I’m here. The real reason I came here is to apologize if there were any inconveniences to your business and to thank you for your hospitality.”

  “Oh, there wasn’t any—”

  “Great. I hoped there weren’t problems. I suppose he’ll be missed all the more after today, then.”

  “After today?”

  Denise snapped her fingers. “Oh, right. That’s the other reason I’m here, to tell you he’s done ahead of schedule. His publicist has some things lined up for him, and since he can’t be in two places at once…”

  Sandra’s heart sank, and she felt Ben missing from her life already. She still wanted a few more days with him. “He’s leaving? Today? But Ben never said a word to me—I mean, us. Any of us.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s because he didn’t know. I haven’t had a chance to tell him. But he understands business is business. As I’m sure you understand, being a business owner yourself. Besides, he’s more than ready to move on, in my opinion, anyway. He’s going to make a great dad.”

  She swallowed hard. “A great dad?”

  “Sure. You know, the movie role. He’s up for the part of a father of a four-year-old in need of a heart transplant. Mostly due to my hard work, thank you very much. It’s got high-level drama written all over it. And now, because of you and your school, Ben’s gotten some great experience with children. Oh, and thanks for the extra time you gave him with your daughter. I know he really appreciates that.”

  Extra time I gave him? Every part of Sandra turned to ice. “He wanted experience?” she managed to ask.

  His agent finally cracked a smile. “Honey, why did you think he was here in the first place, because he was going to be doing a remake of the movie Big? Not that he couldn’t do that movie blindfolded, by the way.”

  “I…I just assumed…” What had she assumed? She’d known full well he would be playing the part of a father who had a child with cancer. But never in a million years had she thought he would use her and her daughter for added help in preparing for the role.

  “Well, now you know. When you see him accepting his Oscar, you can say you had a small part in it.” Denise pulled out an envelope from her briefcase. “Here’s an extra little thank-you for everything. Don’t worry, you’ll be getting paid for the time he would have normally been here. And if Ben does the movie, we can even give you and your staff tickets to the premiere if you’d like. How does all that sound?”

  It sounded horrendous, but she wisely kept her mouth shut. Her mind was still trying to sort out what was going on. Had Ben been spending extra time with them, helping out, just to get more training? Was his career the only thing he’d been thinking about? She had trusted him. She’d come to care for him. Only to have their entire relationship rendered meaningless in an instant. Was all that talk of friendship for real, or was it all an act to him? The answer she came up with made her feel ill.

  Her mind hadn’t registered to take the envelope from Denise’s hand, so Denise laid it on her desk. “You can let me know whatever you decide,” she said. “My card is in there.” She snapped her briefcase together in one swift movement and stood, business obviously concluded. “Thanks again, Sandra. You’ve been a real sweetheart. I have an appointment to get to in the city or I’d stay and chat with Ben, so remind him to turn his cell phone back on after class and I’ll be in touch.”

  Sandra was thankful she could stand up on legs that felt like cooked spaghetti and shake the woman’s hand. Her chest hurt. And after Denise left the office, she stood there, not knowing whether to scream or hide or march up to him and have it out.

  How could he? How could he use her, use her daughter? Her hand shook as she pressed it against her forehead, but she was determined to stay in control. Unflappable, her butt. Anger simmered instead, ready to erupt. But it was a welcome emotion—less chance of tears that way. That was a good thing, because after all this, she wasn’t about to shed one drop over another phony like him.

  A light knock only slightly pulled her from her whirlwind of emotions. She had no idea how much time had gone by while she’d wrestled with what to do next. “What?” she called out.

  Ben casually walked in, waving a paper. “You have to see this picture Hannah drew,” he said, smiling. “I don’t know what’s supposed to be considered good for her age, but this to me is first-grade level.”

  He held up the picture to her like a proud parent, which only sickened her further. She didn’t bother to look at it. She couldn’t remove her gaze from his face. As much as she had seen his face in magazines and on the movie screen, as much as she had touched and even kissed it, it was as though she were seeing him for the first time.

  And he was a stranger.

  “Hey,” he said, laying a hand on her shoulder. “You look like you could kick a cat. Something wrong?”

  She pulled away from his reach, but his hand didn’t automatically drop down. “How could you?” she as
ked. She kept her voice calm and in deadly control. “Weren’t you getting enough character preparation here during regular school hours?”

  He met her question with a blank stare.

  Feeling malicious, she laughed in his face. “What’s the matter, Ben? Forget to memorize your lines today?”

  Ben tossed Hannah’s picture on her desk with an irritable frown. “Okay, I give up. I don’t know what you’re talking about, so you’re going to have to fill me in.”

  “I’ll be happy to fill you in,” she said calmly. “You lied to me. You lied to my daughter. And I’ll never forgive you for something like that.”

  …

  Ben stared at Sandra, a cold rush of dread leaving him temporarily speechless. If she had slapped him in the face, it wouldn’t have surprised him more. He would have preferred that to the icy retort she threw at him instead.

  Choosing his words carefully, he tried to make some sense out of what was going on. “Sandals, I—”

  “Don’t call me that.” When she spoke, she met his gaze squarely, but he couldn’t help but notice how pale her face looked despite all her controlled poise. “Was the nickname part of your research, too? Will you be using that in your movie? It’s much more inventive than Sandy, I have to say.”

  He moved closer but resisted the urge to touch her again—he didn’t fool himself into thinking it would in any way comfort her, or be welcomed. “Look, slow down. What are you talking about? Who told you I lied to you?”

  “Your agent. She graced me with her presence a few minutes ago.”

  “Denise was here?”

  She snorted. “It’s interesting how your initial reaction is to ask about your agent instead of denying you lied. I guess that shows where your real concern rests.”

  “My real concern?” He heaved a frustrated sigh. “Wait. I’m confused. What exactly did Denise say?”

  “Don’t worry. She didn’t utter one bad thing about you. I was able to deduce all nefarious details on my own when she told me the kind of things you would do to practice for that father role you’re after.”

  She sounded so accusing he had to rein in his own temper. “So?” he responded, hiking his shoulders. “You knew why I was here from day one.”

  She gasped. “You admit it.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “Sandra, tell me what you think is so important that I should have admitted to you.”

  Her eyes flashed with anger. “You using me and my daughter for research so you can get your precious Oscar. I was such a fool thinking you suddenly wanted to spend all this time with us. But all you cared about was that movie part. If you don’t think you should have been up front about that, then you’ve got a strange sense of what is and isn’t important. You’ve obviously had too much California sun.” She took a step toward the door, but he shifted in front of her and blocked her with his body.

  “Wait, just a second. You’re blowing this way out of proportion. I never used you or Hannah. I would never do that. You have to believe me. You—both of you—mean the world to me.”

  “I bet. You’re indebted to us for helping your career, that’s all. And after last night…after all that talk about friendship…” A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “I guess I should be even more grateful to you for ending that kiss. What happened, Ben, get a bad case of morality? Well, pardon me if I don’t say thank you.”

  Blown away she would think so little of him, he grabbed her by her shoulders and lightly shook her. “It wasn’t like that. You know it wasn’t like that. What we had—have—is special. You have to believe I wasn’t pretending.” Not this time. What he felt for her and Hannah was the real thing.

  Ben didn’t say another word. He looked at her in earnest, hoping he could at least show what he didn’t know how else to voice. He’d learned from enough directors in his career a person could always reveal more with actions than with words. Right now, he was counting on that.

  As he gazed into her wounded blue eyes, he wanted more than ever to wrap her in his arms and tell her it wasn’t an act—it couldn’t be an act, because he had never felt anything like this for anyone in his entire selfish life. He could be a father to Hannah. A great father, he realized, despite what he had lacked in his own life, because it hurt like hell to even think about going back to California and saying good-bye to her, to both of them. But if he told her that now, the timing would seem like more of a coincidence. She wouldn’t believe him. Surely, it would sound like another lie to save face.

  Sandra looked up into his eyes for several long seconds, and when her expression softened, it sparked some hope in his heart. “Look, Ben, I understand your career is important to you—that was one of the first things you shared with me. I’m not faulting you for that. I just wish…I—she’s become attached to you. It’s not fair to her.”

  “You’re right,” he rushed out. He was too anxious to make things right between them, anxious to have her smile at him again, anxious to be able to breathe again. He hated the way she was looking at him—much like the way she’d looked when he’d first met her at the park, the day she’d thought he was a criminal. “You have a right to feel this way. Just don’t think that…”

  Their gazes locked.

  Then her eyes narrowed. “Don’t think what? That you’re exactly like Steve?”

  Ben felt kicked in the stomach. But that was exactly what he was afraid of—her thinking he was as bad as her ex-husband. The worst typecasting he could experience.

  His cell phone began to ring. He almost cringed, afraid she would automatically think it was a woman calling. After all, his reputation wasn’t any great secret, and thanks to her ex, she didn’t have a lot banked in the trust department. Out of habit he dug it out and glanced at the screen. With some relief, he looked up. “It’s only my agent.”

  “You don’t owe me an explanation. It’s none of my business who calls you.”

  He silenced his phone and shoved it back into his pocket. “I just didn’t want you to jump to any conclusions about me.”

  “Don’t worry. I don’t think you’re like Steve at all,” she told him, her voice growing more unsteady by the second. “You’re much worse.”

  She brushed him aside, but he grabbed hold of her arm to keep her from walking out again. “Don’t be like this. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Don’t throw away what we have here. Not now. Not over this.”

  “You keep talking about what we have here. That you don’t want to ruin what we have. You said the same thing last night. What exactly do we have?”

  He let a moment pass as he thought about that. What do we have? Much more than friendship—at least on his part. Dammit, he’d thought about marrying her. But that thought also scared him to death. Would she even believe him? Trust him? Would they really have a chance at something more? Or would he make a bigger mess out of their relationship and create worse publicity for himself in the process? He didn’t know. He couldn’t be sure. His hands and tongue felt tied, and as a result, he remained silent.

  She nodded sadly. “That’s what I thought.” Then she walked out the door.

  Chapter Ten

  It was well after five when her doorbell rang.

  Sandra sniffed and swiped the tears from her eyes as she made her way down the hall to answer it. She had told herself many times she wasn’t going to cry over Ben, but once she’d let a few tears escape on the drive home from work, it was as though a dam had been broken with no repairman in sight. Her emotions had bounced all over the place, from anger to relief to hurt to depression, ever since the awful confrontation with him earlier. Then, just when she thought she’d reached a state of equilibrium, Hannah had inadvertently set her off again by asking all sorts of questions, like where Ben was going and if he was coming back soon or just in time to see her dressed up for Halloween, like he’d promised.

  What could she possibly say to all that?

  It was too much for her to deal with all in one day, so
Sandra had simply let it go by telling her she didn’t know. Hannah would find out soon enough that Ben hadn’t really meant what he’d promised her. There wasn’t a chance he would come back to New Jersey for a small preschool Halloween party. Why couldn’t men mean what they said? Didn’t they realize that broken promises hurt much more than the truth?

  There was no use brooding over it again. She’d have to make it up to her daughter somehow, do something special for her. As if that could so easily erase the hurt of another man abandoning her. But it was all that was in her power to do at this point.

  She knew she looked a mess, but with her hand on the knob, she drew in a deep, controlling breath and swung open the door.

  Missy stood opposite her with Chinese takeout and a deep frown. “What did you do to poor Ben?” she accused.

  “Poor Ben? Don’t make me laugh.” Sandra grabbed the bag of food out of her sister’s hands and turned away.

  Poor Ben. That was almost as funny as allowing herself to be sucked in by his overt concern to help her school, or being charmed by his ridiculous pirate eye patch, or, far more hilarious, allowing herself to care so deeply about him.

  Missy followed her in, not missing a beat. “I’m serious. Ben looked heartbroken, Sandra. His leaving seems so sudden, too. You guys didn’t have a fight, did you? We didn’t even get to throw him a farewell party.”

  Sandra dropped the bag on her counter and glared at her. “Farewell party? Give me a break. That man doesn’t even deserve a farewell kick in the—” She glanced at Hannah watching TV in the next room and lowered her voice. “I didn’t have anything to do with his leaving, if that’s what you’re hinting at. But I’m glad he’s gone.”

  Missy’s depressed expression turned into shock. “What? You’re glad? But I thought—”

  “Yeah, well, so did I.” She drew in a shaky breath. “But Ben didn’t really care about me. He just cared about what I could do for his career.”