Dear Prince Charming

by Donna Kauffman

  He tilted his head and grinned. “You think I’m sexy?”

  She groaned and pushed him away. “Here,” she said, grabbing the clothes off the rack and pressing them against his chest. “Go change. You’re going to be called to the wings in about five minutes.”

  He tossed the clothes on the chair and pulled off his shirt, then laughed when she spun around. “Hey, I like a good-luck kiss as much as any red-blooded guy would before going off to do battle. But even I have my standards.” He shucked his pants, waited a beat, then grinned when he caught her peeking in the mirror. “I need at least ten minutes for an actual sexual encounter.”

  She sniffed with all the dignity she could muster, and turned to face him as he zipped his pants. “Just as well, then. A ten-minute man doesn’t usually make my list of things to do.”

  Jack hooted as he shoved his arms through the sleeves of the shirt, and was still chuckling as he buttoned it up. “Touché, Ms. Wagner, touché.”

  A quick rap came at the door, followed by a young woman with her hair in a messy topknot, wearing a headset, poking her head in the door. “We’re ready for you, Mr. Lambert.”

  He glanced over at Valerie, surprised at the sudden invasion of butterflies in his stomach. It was just another interview. That’s what he’d been telling himself all day. But as he nodded to the woman and could only manage a tight smile to go with it, he was forced to admit that Valerie wasn’t the only one a little wound up about this next step they were about to take. He just handled his stress a little differently than she did. Although, thinking back on the kiss, he still thought his way was better.

  “You’re going to be great,” Valerie whispered as she passed through the door in front of him.

  “Oh, now you give me the confident pep talk.”

  She gave it right back to him. “Now is when you needed to hear it.”

  They followed the young woman to the wings of the set, where he was fitted for his mike. “Now,” the production assistant said, “it’s just like we went over during the preshow warm-up. We’re in commercial break at the moment. When we come back, they will do your intro. You wait until you hear your name. Audience goes clap, clap, clap, you walk to center stage, greet Chuck and Vicki, then take the stool between them. You’ll be out there for approximately eight minutes, answer a few questions, then we go to commercial break again and you’re done.” She smiled brightly. “You got it? Any questions, now’s the time.”

  “I’m good,” he assured her, absently wondering if he had time to throw up real quick.

  The assistant stepped back and talked into her mouthpiece. The band started to play, the audience cheered as the camera lights went back on and the hosts began to speak.

  Jack’s entire life flashed before his eyes. What in the hell had he been smoking to think he could pull something like this off? It’s just another interview. It’s just another interview, he murmured silently, wishing his heart wasn’t pounding so hard. He couldn’t hear his own thoughts, much less them announcing his name.

  And then the production assistant was waving him to go. But his feet wouldn’t move. Then he felt Valerie step up behind him, followed by a very sharp pinch on his ass.

  His mouth dropped open with a surprised laugh.

  “Knock ’em dead, sweet cheeks,” she whispered in his ear.

  And so it was that he took the stage with a wide, somewhat naughty grin that had the women in the audience cheering.

  Risk

  Some guys will risk their job, their pride, even their life, before they’ll risk their heart. Especially if they’ve had it handed back to them already. So it always comes as a surprise to them when they find out their heart has a mind of its own.

  Chapter 16

  Only two minutes to go. Valerie curled her fingers into her palms to keep from biting her nails down any farther. She wasn’t cut out for this kind of knife-edge tension.

  “So,” the perky hostess was saying, “we understand you were married once.”

  “Yes, I was.”

  There was a communal holding of breath from the audience. Vicki smiled and put her hand on his arm, all girl-next-door-you-can-trust-me.

  Very convincingly, too, Valerie thought, hoping Jack hadn’t forgotten this was being seen and heard by far more than this intimate little recording-studio audience.

  “It didn’t last that long, correct? What happened?”

  “Didn’t the advice man have any advice for himself?” Chuck, the more biting, acerbic half of the talk-show duo, inserted, to growing titters in the audience. “What a prince, hey ladies?” The chuckles grew and the tension in the studio shot up as the audience murmured and rustled in their seats, waiting for their Prince to shoot Chuckie down.

  Valerie had been waiting for this, knew Jack was properly prepped. The audience had loved him from the moment he hit the stage. “All you have to do is give the stock answer, and we’re home free,” she murmured, willing him for once, to do things the way they’d planned and end the interview without stirring anything else up.

  “Well, Vicki, where the heart is concerned, you don’t always want to listen to advice. Even your own.”

  The women in the audience—who were easily ninety-five percent of the whole—sighed and clapped. Valerie held off, waiting for the finish.

  “We reacted to the moment, didn’t wait until cooler heads”—he shot a look directly into the audience—”or other body parts, for that matter, prevailed.”

  The women swooned, laughed, cheered.

  “Jesus,” Valerie muttered, “he can even seduce them en masse.” But her heart started to speed up. He was actually going to pull this off. She should trust him more. Then she remembered his maneuver in the dressing room and realized that she couldn’t dare give him so much as an inch. Or he’d be giving her every one of his. And judging by how his body had felt, pressed up against hers in the Glass Slipper conference room, she knew he had a few to spare.

  “I think it was to both of our credits that we did give it an honest go,” Jack was saying. “I think we both knew early on we’d made a mistake, and when we couldn’t ignore that reality any longer, we ended things.”

  “Nasty divorce?” Chuck asked, obviously hoping to dish some dirt.

  Jack chuckled, shifting effortlessly from intimate pal talk with Vicki to mano-a-mano talk with Chuck. “No. Never make an enemy with a lawyer on retainer.”

  The ladies in the audience groaned a little, but the few token men cheered, making everyone laugh, including Chuck.

  Perky Vicki butted back in, all concerned for women everywhere. “So, do you still talk?”

  Jack switched back up once again. Smiling tenderly, with a hand over his chest, he said, “When emotions have ricocheted as wildly as ours did, that can be pretty tough. But I wish her nothing but the best and hope she feels the same. Sometimes that’s the best you can hope for.”

  The audience “Awwwed” and Vicki patted him consolingly on the arm. And Valerie allowed herself a little fist pump. He’d done it. She counted herself lucky they hadn’t mentioned Shelby by name, looking for the added notoriety of her celebrity. She’d counted on them bypassing that potential hook, anyway, since Shelby wasn’t known to the American public, all her success coming on the European runways and print ads.

  “Well, our producer is signaling we have another minute or so before we have to go to break.” Vicki turned to Jack, all chipper, encouraging smiles. “You up for taking some comments and questions from the audience?”

  Valerie froze. They were supposed to clear that kind of thing with her. She craned her neck and glanced around, trying to pinpoint just which assistant she could threaten most effectively. Except it was too late for that. Jack had already been put on the spot. She gave a quick little head shake, in case he glanced to the wings where she was standing. Only, of course, he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t so much as blink.

  “Sure, why not. After all, without them, Prince Charming wouldn’t be such a success.�
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  A rousing cheer from the crowd, complete with whistles and hoots. A staffer popped up in the audience with a handheld microphone, which Vicki directed to one of the women raising her hand. Valerie held her breath as the woman stood and was asked to introduce herself.

  “Hi, Vicki and Chuck, I’m Pam. I don’t really have a question, but I want to tell Jack how much his books have helped me.”

  There was an immediate round of confirming applause.

  “I was having a hard time getting my boyfriend to commit. I knew what I was feeling and your book, Dear Me, just confirmed what I already knew. Using your suggestions, I tried to tell him, but it wasn’t getting through. I knew if he just read your book, he’d understand, but you know guys. There was no way he was reading an advice book by anyone, especially one by some guy claiming to be Prince Charming. Women all around her were nodding, collectively disgusted with their macho counterparts.

  “Then he heard you on the radio and saw you on the cover of the magazine.” She blushed a little. “Honestly, we were both a little surprised by how, you know . . .” She broke off, covering her face.

  “How hot he is?” Vicki offered, oh so helpfully.

  Pam nodded, hopelessly embarrassed as the whistles and hoots started up again. “My boyfriend was, well, he was probably both impressed and a bit jealous, maybe. But he did end up reading the parts of the book I wanted him to.” She looked around the audience. “So, ladies, I just want you to know. If you can get your guy to read one of Jack’s books, it might not make him a prince, but it sure was the charm we needed to make our relationship work.”

  She sat down to rousing cheers, leaving a still-smiling Jack looking endearingly humbled. “Thank you,” he said, but was mostly drowned out by the continued wave of adoration gushing from the audience.

  For her part, Valerie sighed once again in relief. The man was part cat, but he was quickly using up his nine lives. Just then her cell phone hummed at her hip. She stepped back as far out of the way as she could and still keep her eye on the stage, before flipping it open. “Valerie Wagner,” she said, keeping her voice low. “Elaine, hi, I can’t—what? You’re kidding!” Her mind went blank for a moment as the news sank in, then she quickly juggled the phone and pulled out her Palm Pilot as Elaine continued to reel off information.

  “They want him tomorrow. Dave’s doing a top ten Prince Charming list.”

  Dave. As in David Letterman. “I’m not sure we can work it in,” she said, trying hard to think on her feet. Trying harder not to pass out.

  “They want Jack to read the list himself,” Elaine went on.

  “Okay, okay. Let me talk with him. Give me the number.” She punched it into her Palm. “When do they need to know?”

  “Yesterday.”

  Shit. “I’m on it.” She flipped her phone shut, adrenaline and tension spiking once again as she tried to analyze the possible ramifications of this latest wrinkle. It was in that moment that the inescapable truth finally hit home. This was never going to be over. It no longer mattered what Jack did or didn’t do. The train had left the station . . . and they weren’t getting off anytime soon.

  “Time for one more question,” Vicki called out to the audience. “Anyone need advice from the Love Doctor here?”

  Oh, for the love of God, Valerie thought, as her attention careened back to the moment at hand. Love Doctor? They’d never hear the end of that one. She could only pray Dave’s people weren’t still watching. She could see the Late Show list right now. Top Ten Things the Love Doctor Would Prescribe to Mend Your Broken Heart!

  Of course, Jack would love it. She could already see his cocky grin when she told him he’d landed a spot on Letterman. Valerie wondered how many Rolaids a person could chew up before their kidneys turned to compressed chalk.

  Another woman took the mike. Valerie focused on her, shutting out everything else, willing her to make it short and quick, so she could hurry up and start obsessing over her next potential heart attack.

  “Hi, I’m Marci. I just wanted to tell you—” She paused suddenly to press her fingers to her lips as her eyes welled with emotion.

  Valerie held her breath along with the rest of the audience. Please, we’ve come this far. Don’t screw it up for him now.

  Marci took a breath, then plunged on. “I spent two years in an abusive relationship. I’m smart, educated. I never thought I would get trapped in that kind of vicious cycle. I even recognized it for what it was, but I couldn’t seem to find my way out of it. I knew I had to end it, but I was afraid . . . and I was ashamed. The wedding was planned, all this money had been spent, and to everyone else he was my Prince Charming. I knew differently, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone else.”

  She took another breath and Valerie could feel the audience silently willing the woman to continue.

  Through a sparkle of tears, her voice gone hoarse, she continued. “I’d read your books. I knew you were right, and I should hold out for a man who would love and respect me. A real Prince Charming. But I confess, a part of me didn’t believe they . . . or even you really existed. And then, there you were, on the cover of that magazine. Proof the right guy really does exist. It probably sounds silly, but that’s the moment I found the courage to tell my friends and family the truth. And with their love and support—and a restraining order,” she added with a dry if watery smile, causing the audience to laugh through their own tears, “I found the courage to end it.” She sucked in a shuddering breath. “And I’m just so grateful I have the opportunity to thank you in person.” Tears were streaming down her cheeks now, and Vicki stood up and beckoned the woman to come down the aisle.

  There was nothing else Jack could do but go and accept a hug from the woman. The audience cheered and sniffled through the whole thing. And as the woman made her way back to her seat, they gave both her and Jack a standing ovation.

  Valerie was wiping away a few tears herself. Vicki was sniffling and even curmudgeonly Chuck pretended to wipe away a few tears as he finally sent them to commercial.

  Vicki rebounded quickly, and knowing she had a hit guest on her hands, invited Jack to stick around for the cooking segment they were going to do with their other special guest, Emeril Lagasse.

  Valerie edged closer to the stage, trying to catch Jack’s eye and motion him to talk to her first, but to her surprise, after giving both hosts a heartfelt thank-you, he politely declined without so much as glancing her way. He shook Chuck’s hand and hugged Vicki. Both hosts, clearly knowing they’d bagged a winner, gushed that they’d love to have him back as a guest, maybe do a full hour on advice. Jack just kept nodding, smiling, giving them vague responses, waved to the audience one last time, then finally left the stage.

  Valerie was stunned. He’d actually played it exactly as she’d have wanted him to. And here she was, certain he’d want to bask in his triumph as long as possible. It was all she could do to keep from yanking him into a huge, relieved hug. Hell, she’d been more or less expecting one from him. He had to be pumped over the amazing victory they’d just scored. But instead of the cocky swagger of a guy who’d just delivered a lethal one-two punch to national daytime television, Jack took her by the elbow and immediately steered her toward the dressing room.

  He was still smiling as they wound their way through a host of other staffers, all of whom were congratulating him and patting him on the back. To anyone else, he appeared to be a bit rushed, but sincerely pleased. Only Valerie was close enough to see the tense set to his jaw, to feel the fingers digging a bit deeper into her arm with every pause they had to make to nod or speak to someone.

  Once inside the dressing room, he quickly closed the door and immediately began gathering the few belongings they had with them. “Is the car waiting?” he said, no longer smiling. He sounded almost angry.

  Valerie stopped stock-still in the middle of the room and propped her hands on her hips. “What’s wrong? Even I have to admit that you were freaking brilliant out there. Tha
t was amazing. Admittedly, you had me worried for a few moments there, but you totally nailed it.”

  He said nothing. Well, there was a brief snarling sound, but his back was to her. She tugged him around by the arm. “You were barely even done and I was already fielding a call from Elaine, telling me the talent booker for David Letterman’s Late Show called her, trying to reach you or Eric. He’s doing his Top Ten list on you tomorrow night and he wants you to read it.”

  “I hope you said no.” Jack’s face was set in stone, his eyes cold, totally cut off and inaccessible. For all that they’d bickered before, there’d always been an element of teasing, of knowing they were each capable of giving as good as they got. She couldn’t recall ever seeing him like this.

  In fact, she wasn’t sure she’d have thought him capable of it. Mr. Trust Me & Stop Worrying.

  “You’re turning something down? Am I to believe what I’m hearing?”

  He jerked his arm free, then balled up and shoved the clothes he’d worn to the studio earlier into the bottom of the zippered garment bag. “I thought you’d be thrilled,” he said, somewhat caustically. “I’ve finally come to my senses.” He yanked the bag from the rack. “Is this all we have? Let’s get out of here.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. Tell them whatever you want, but get me out of it. That’s what you’re paid for, right?”

  Her mouth dropped open.

  “Haven’t you been telling me I’ve more than kept up my end of the bargain?” he said. “You’re right. In fact, I’ll go so far as to say you’ve been right all along and I’ve been a complete and total ass about this. The world has seen enough of Prince Charming. Time to go recapture a bit of Eric’s mystique.” And with that, he tugged open the door and ducked out. Leaving her to follow or not, apparently not caring which option she chose.

  She barely caught up to him in time not to be left standing curbside. She slid into the limo and they were pulling away even before she shut her door. She tossed her satchel onto the seat and swiveled to look at him, but he was stone-faced and looking forward, as if alone in the car. Or simply wishing he were.