CHAPTER ONE
“Son, I need you to do me a big favor. Have another piece of garlic bread.”
Sam Collins didn’t get to see his mother nearly as much as he wanted to. His career took him all over the globe and he loved it, but somehow nowhere ever held a candle to his mom’s dinner table. That’s where he was tonight, being fussed over and spoiled a little. She’d made him lasagna – his favorite. No one balanced the flavors of tomato and garlic like she could. He shouldn’t be eating the carbs but for today, at least, he didn’t care. He’d work it off in the gym later.
“Sure, what do you need? Some lightbulbs changed that you can’t reach? The lawn mowed? Some boxes moved up to the attic?”
Paula Collins always had a few tiny chores whenever he came to Florida and he was happy to do them for her. The last time he’d visited he’d helped her shop and carry home a new artificial Christmas tree with LED lighting so she didn’t have to worry about light strands any longer. The damn thing was about eleven feet tall. He’d also boxed up all the decorations after New Year’s and stowed them in a spare bedroom of the house. He’d purchased the home for her when she’d retired from school teaching in Ohio, not long after he’d made it big in Hollywood.
There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for this woman. She’d sacrificed so much for him when he was growing up. He adored indulging her now that he had the money to do it.
“How about some more lasagna? Or maybe some wine?”
Chuckling, he shook his head. He still had a full plate and she was already pushing a second helping on him. She loved to feed him up when he was home, teasing him that he was too thin.
“I’m good, Mom. So what can I do for you?”
“I have chocolate cake for dessert.”
“I’ll save room, I promise. Now what do you need done?”
Maybe it was something unpleasant like killing a nest of wasps. Or telling a neighbor they were too loud.
Sitting back in her chair, Paula folded her hands together on the table. She was sixty-two to his forty-five, so they’d practically grown up together. She still looked young though and could easily pass for fifty. Her light brown hair didn’t have a strand of silver in it, but then she might dye if for all he knew. Her skin was amazingly unlined except for the smile lines that fanned around her eyes. He wondered not for the first time why she’d never remarried. He’d never asked out loud though because he had a bad feeling that it might be because of her dedication to him.
“I want you to hear me out completely before you say yes or no.”
Sweet baby Jesus, did she want him to wrestle an alligator or something? Wait…did she need money? Had she gambled it away at the casino in the next county?
He reached across the table and patted her hand. “Mom, if you need money just tell me how much. There’s no shame in making a few bad decisions.”
Her brows flew up in surprise and then she began to laugh, softly at first and then more loudly. “Son, you are a treasure. You’ll always be my baby, you know that?”
He’d hit the jackpot in the mother department. His dad might have been a total loss, but Paula Collins was solid gold.
“I do, although now that I’m over forty it feels a little weird to hear you say that. So I guess it’s not money.” He decided to tease her a little. “Do you want a new fancy sports car or maybe a world cruise? How about a date with Sean Connery? You name it, you got it.”
Huffing, Paula gave him a look that would have had his teenage self shaking in his shoes.
“Sean Connery is far too old for me, young man. Now that Idris Elba, he’s a looker. Can you get me his phone number?”
“Is that the favor you want because I probably could get his number for you.”
“No, that’s the not the favor.” She dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her napkin. “First, answer me a question. That girl you were dating a few months ago…that was just a setup, right? It wasn’t real. What do you call it?”
Yes, Tiffany Lawson. She was a nice girl, up and coming in Hollywood. She’d helped him keep his name in the press while he recovered from a torn meniscus in his knee.
“A showmance,” he replied. “Just a PR relationship. It wasn’t real but she was a nice kid. I would say that we were friends, and we had some fun.”
“So it doesn’t bother you?” Paula frowned as if trying to understand. “Pretending to care about someone, that is. You’re fine with it?”
“It’s what I do for a living, Mom. A showmance is just another form of acting. Besides, no one was getting hurt or anything. Tiffany and I both knew it was a business arrangement.”
“But other people thought you were a real couple,” she pointed out. “You don’t think that’s kind of misleading?”
Sam honestly didn’t know where this line of questioning was heading. He loved his fans and he owed them big for the wonderful career, but he’d learned early that he had to play the Hollywood games.
“You think I’m not being ethical?” he asked. “I guess I just look at it as feeding the beast. If I didn’t give the press something to talk about they’d just make it up themselves. At least this way I have a modicum of control.”
“Good, I’m glad you feel that way.” She clasped her hands together and her smile widened. “I want you to have a showmance with a woman that I know from the elementary school. It wouldn’t take much of your time. Just a few days but it would really help her out. You’ll do it, right?”
Paula may have finally found the one thing he wouldn’t do for her.
A showmance? Who was she? And why?