CHAPTER NINE
Amy waited in the kitchen for Roper to finish dressing. She hadn’t planned on seeing him again today, but he’d sounded so down, she couldn’t resist coming along to dinner tonight to make sure he was okay. And considering his mood when he’d answered the door, she was glad she’d agreed. She’d watched his mother in action this morning and again at lunch and realized how wearing the woman was on those around her. Cassandra Lee expected the world to fall at her feet. No doubt she’d become used to it in the heyday of her career. And then afterward Roper had ensured she always had everything she needed, Amy thought.
But who made sure Roper had everything he needed? she wondered.
The sound of footsteps drew her attention, and she glanced up to see Roper join her wearing a pair of black jeans and a light blue, long sleeve collared shirt. Amy wasn’t into designer clothes. But the Jordan sisters were trying to change that, and thanks to them, Amy recognized the classic plaid. She had to admit, she liked that she could hold her own with Roper, a man who was always immaculately groomed, no matter what his mood.
“You look good,” Amy said, the words out before she could stop them. A heated blush rushed to her cheeks.
His gaze bore into hers. “Thank you. You’re looking pretty hot yourself.”
She blushed deeper.
“We have a few minutes before we have to leave. Can I get you something to drink? Water? Sparkling?” A smile tugged at his lips. “You see? I heard you when you said you didn’t want to drink around me.”
“Those weren’t my exact words,” she muttered. She’d only said no to a drink last time. But he’d read her mind. Which probably meant he understood her reasons. He was hard to resist when she was sober. Give her a drink and she’d succumb to his charm in an instant. “No, thank you. I’ll wait until we get to the restaurant.”
“Okay, then. Let me just straighten up and we’ll head on over. With a little luck, Mom and Harrison Smith will be early, too, and we can get this meal over with,” he said, sounding even more preoccupied than usual.
“Why do I have the feeling that you’re worried about more than spending the evening with your mother?”
He shrugged, eyeing her as if deciding whether or not to talk. “I’m just sick of hearing from disgruntled fans. They’re entitled to their feelings, but it would be easier if I didn’t have to deal with it at home, too.”
She narrowed her gaze. “So why do you? Doesn’t your mail go to the stadium or directly to us at the Hot Zone?” She was pretty sure the stadium mail was automatically forwarded to the Hot Zone, protecting him from unwanted correspondence.
It was just another service the Hot Zone offered to their clients. Long ago, Micki had made sure that someone screened all clients’ fan mail before being passed on to those athletes who wanted to see it. The rest was answered by someone at the PR firm with a signed photo or as directed by each client.
“Most of my mail goes the standard route. But even though I’m unlisted, it’s not too hard to find out where someone in the public eye lives. This guy’s been sending me stuff all season.”
“At your home?” she asked.
He nodded. “You brought up a letter the other day,” he admitted. “But that wasn’t the worst of it.” He twisted his head from side to side, obviously aggravated.
She propped her hands on her hips. “I think you need to elaborate.”
He groaned. “Besides the standard letters, I’ve gotten a bobblehead doll with a knife in its shoulder. And then today’s package was something else.”
“A knife in its shoulder?” she asked, her voice rising. “And it was a bobblehead doll of you?”
“Calm down.” He stepped toward her, placing a hand on her arm.
Not likely, she thought, a chill sweeping through her body. “What was in today’s package?” she asked.
“Forget it. It’s just some crazy fan. Fanatical. Get it? It comes with the territory of playing in the majors and getting the big bucks.”
She raised an eyebrow at him in question. Did he really think he could gloss over this? “Oh, no. You aren’t getting away with avoiding my question. What was in the package?”
He lowered his hand from her arm and met her gaze. “Dog shit with a note saying You Stink. At least I think it was from a dog,” he muttered, not wanting to contemplate that thought too deeply.
She winced, both nauseated and horrified at the same time. “You have got to be kidding me! That is the most disgusting, scary thing I’ve ever heard. This guy is nuts!”
“It’s a fan, remember? Just let it go.”
“I remember Uncle Spencer telling me about the time a tennis player was stabbed during a championship match. You can’t brush this off. Did you report it to the police?”
He rolled his eyes. “Now, that would be over-reacting.”
She scowled at him. “Then did you mention it to someone at the Hot Zone? Did you tell Yank about the bobblehead? Of course not,” she answered for him.
“Since you already know the answer, why should I bother answering the question?” he said, laughing at her.
She wasn’t fooled at his attempt to change the subject. “First thing tomorrow I’m going to have all your mail forwarded to the Hot Zone. We’ll make sure you get your bills and things that are safe as soon as possible.”
He inclined his head. “Not a problem.”
She blinked, startled by his easy agreement. “Oh.”
“I’m not a glutton for punishment. I should have done that from the beginning. It’s more of a mental drain than any kind of real threat. But thank you. Good idea.”
“You’re welcome.” She exhaled hard.
“So how about we just go to dinner?” he asked.
“Sounds like a plan.” Dinner wasn’t the only thing on her agenda.
Now there was more than just his family eating away at him. He also had this nutty fan whose so-called gifts were just sick, and getting worse. Amy didn’t want them to get dangerous. At this point, she was more sure than ever that she had to get Roper out of town.
With or without his consent.
* * *
Considering Ben had deigned to show up, dinner had been surprisingly pleasant, Roper thought. There had been no talk of the televised pilot his mother kept turning down or Roper’s career skid. Instead Harrison Smith had led the discussion, getting to know Roper, Amy and Ben, and essentially ignoring the diva at the table. By the end of the meal, Cassandra was sulking, proving to Roper that the man had his mother wrapped around his finger. She claimed not to want the attention, but she didn’t want to be ignored, either.
Roper silently applauded the man’s ability to get under his mother’s skin. No man had done that during Roper’s lifetime.
Harrison was busy with the waiter, placing his dessert order. “The lady and I will both have crème brûlée,” he said, placing his hand over Cassandra’s.
Cassandra slid her hand from his. “I’d prefer the tropical sorbet. I have to watch my waistline,” she said, becoming animated for the first time all evening.
Harrison snorted. “She’ll have crème brûlée.” He placed his hand behind her chair and leaned closer. “Are you really going to avoid your favorite dessert just to spite me?”
Cassandra sniffed but didn’t reply.
“Remember when we couldn’t afford more than one dessert and we shared it once a week back in film school?” the other man asked.
“You two knew each other in film school?” What rock was he living under? Roper wondered. And what else was his mother hiding?
“Mom, you’re holding out on us,” Ben said. “Did you and the director here have a thing going on back then?” he asked, chuckling.
“Maybe she doesn’t want to share personal information at the table,” Roper said to his sibling.
The waiter conspicuously cleared his throat. “Would anyone else like to order something?”
“I’ll have a decaf cappuccino,” Amy replied quickly, probably to kill the oncoming argument between the brothers.
“Espresso,” Roper added.
“Regular coffee,” Ben said.
“And two crème brûlées?” the waiter asked, double-checking with Harrison and Cassandra as he collected the small menus.
To Roper’s surprise, his mother nodded. “That’s fine,” she said with an obviously forced sigh.
She’d caved in to the director. It didn’t matter that the subject was something as insignificant as dessert. Cassandra had given in. Now that he’d witnessed her relationship with Harrison Smith firsthand, Roper knew why his mother was running scared.
The man didn’t cater to Cassandra’s prima donna whims and he didn’t put up with her nonsense. He also knew her a lot better and perhaps more intimately than anybody had guessed. Just because Ben had asked his tacky question at the wrong time didn’t mean he was wrong. Something deeper than an argument over a role was going on between these two.
With the waiter gone, Ben leaned forward, elbows on the table. “So you two have a history?”
“Your mother didn’t tell you?” Harrison asked.
Cassandra visibly squirmed in her seat.
Ben shook his head. “No, Mom’s been holding out.”
Roper opted to add his thoughts. “Frankly, I thought you wanted her for the role in your pilot because of her past body of work,” Roper said.
“That’s one reason. Your mother is talented. But we also go way back to our days as struggling artists. Remember, Cassie?”
Roper nearly choked on his water.
“Cassandra,” she corrected him, her haughty tone returning.
“Cassie!” Ben laughed loudly. “That’s really something else.” He grinned, enjoying his mother’s discomfort.
Roper wasn’t. He was confused by the interaction and worried about his mother’s ability to handle Harrison. On the other hand, Harrison dealt with his mother extremely well. Roper was beginning to like and appreciate the man for that reason alone.
He glanced at Amy. She sat beside him and had remained quiet for most of the meal, watching the dynamics around the table much as Roper had. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t been intensely aware of her the entire time. She smelled delicious, her perfume a subtle but constant reminder of the always simmering attraction between them.
“It’s not Cassie, Benjamin, and you know it,” Cassandra finally said. “So behave.”
Harrison grinned. “She’s always been Cassie to me.” His phone rang, and after checking it, he glanced up. “Would you excuse me for a minute? It’s my daughter and she wouldn’t call if it weren’t important.”
Roper nodded. He’d appreciate a minute or two with his mother without the other man’s imposing presence.
“Well, well,” Ben said, catching his mother’s wandering gaze. “You’ve been keeping secrets.”
“Not really. We knew each other back in the day. So what?”
“So the man remembers what your favorite dessert is. That’s not something a woman takes lightly,” Amy finally spoke, telling Roper his observation was on target.
Cassandra waved her hand in the air. “He has a good memory.”
“Okay, Cassie, whatever you say.” Ben finished off his drink.
Roper would never give Ben credit, but his brother had a point. Nobody had ever called his mother by such an intimate shortening of her name. Never.
His mother flushed deep.
This meal was actually turning out to be fun, as well as enlightening, Roper thought. “Okay, you two obviously had a fling and he’s obviously interested again. That’s not a big deal. He seems like a decent-enough guy. So the real issue is why you’re fighting him so hard.”
“That’s obvious,” Amy said when his mother remained silent. “It’s because he’s so intense. The man has the looks of Sean Connery, the charisma of Jack Nicholson and the persistence of a pit bull. Overwhelming.” She fanned herself with her hand.
Cassandra met Amy’s gaze and an unfathomable understanding flashed between the two women. Something Roper didn’t for the life of him understand. “Females,” he muttered.
“Just cut your mother some slack,” Amy said, placing her hand on his arm. “It’s obvious she needs time to adjust to Harrison’s pursuit.”
“Exactly,” his mother said, folding her arms across her chest. “Cut me some slack, John.” She turned to her other son. “You, too, Benjamin. Stop enjoying this so much. You’re both encouraging Harrison. And that is something I do not need, want or appreciate.”
Roper saw his opportunity and grabbed it. “If I back off, will you consider the role Harrison is offering?” He believed in a good quid pro quo and he’d just offered his mother a very fair exchange.
She opened her mouth to answer just as Harrison returned.
Taking pity on her, Roper didn’t push her to decide now. But he’d definitely be discussing it with her again later.
“I’m sorry about that,” Harrison said, taking his seat once more.
“Is everything okay with your daughter?” Amy asked.
He nodded. “She’s in the middle of an ugly divorce and she needed my opinion on something.”
“I’m sorry,” Cassandra said. “That can’t be easy for her.” Her compassionate tone took Roper off guard.
“It isn’t. She’s an MBA and earns more than her husband, whom she supported while he tried to make a living screenwriting. Now he’s asking for a divorce, alimony, full custody and child support. The man isn’t worthy of my daughter,” he said, fired up on his child’s behalf. He cleared his throat. “But thank you for caring.” Harrison placed his hand over Cassandra’s, sending her into another frenzy of unsettled movement.
It was all Roper could do not to laugh, watching his normally composed mother fidget and fuss under a man’s attention.
Half an hour later, they’d finished coffee and dessert. When Roper asked for a check, he discovered that while taking his phone call, Harrison had apparently also made arrangements to pay the entire bill. Roper thanked the man. He wasn’t all that bothered, since he had the definite feeling there would be plenty of opportunities for Roper to return the favor.
Harrison didn’t strike him as a man who gave up easily.
They made their way to the street. Roper held on to Amy’s hand, not wanting her to hail a cab and disappear before he had a chance to talk to her alone.
But he managed to catch up to his brother when they reached the sidewalk. “Hang out for a few minutes, I want to discuss something important with you, okay?” he asked.
Ben didn’t reply.
“It’s good news for you, so chill,” Roper muttered.
“Thank you for a lovely dinner,” Amy said to the director, probably to distract everyone’s attention from Roper and Ben.
“My pleasure. I’ve been wanting to meet the people who are close to Cassie. Perhaps next time Sabrina and Kevin can join us, as well,” he said.
“Sabrina will definitely want to check things out for herself,” Ben said.
Cassandra flipped her pashmina scarf around her shoulders. “I think Harrison will be back in L.A. long before we can arrange everyone’s schedules,” she said.
“You think wrong,” Harrison said. “I’ve freed myself up for the foreseeable future. Nothing is more important to me than you.” His voice grew deep, making Roper shift uncomfortably on the sidewalk.
Beside him, Amy squeezed his hand, seeming to understand.
“You mean, convincing me to take the role of someone’s mother and grandmother. On TV.” Cassandra straightened her shoulders in a haughty display, but beneath the pride, Roper saw the fear.
He suddenly understood. His beautiful mother was afraid that if she took the role, she’d be acknowledging her own mortality.
Harrison stepped forward and clasped her hand in his. “I meant what I said, Cassie. Nothing is more important to me than you.”
The two stared at each other, the silence only broken by the honking of a car horn and the screeching of tires.
“Should we leave them alone?” Amy whispered.
Ben shrugged. “Seems like it.”
Roper was about to agree when his mother’s voice rose higher. “Like I’m going to believe you aren’t sweet-talking me in order to get me to take this godforsaken part. I’m nobody’s fool,” she said, before stepping into the street to hail a cab.
Before anybody could react, a yellow car pulled up and Cassandra Lee placed herself inside. And then she was gone.
Harrison turned to Roper, Amy and Ben, completely unflustered. “So happy to meet you,” he said. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”
Ben inserted himself between Roper and the director. “I’d be happy to. There’s a script idea I’ve been toying with. A ballplayer who couldn’t make it in the minors due to a tragic past.”
Harrison nodded, listening politely. “Call me and we’ll talk,” he said to Ben.
“Will do.” Ben then took off down the street, his wave telling Roper exactly what he could do with his request.
Harrison turned back to Roper. “It was good to meet you, too,” he said, extending his hand.
Roper inclined his head and shook the other man’s hand. “She’s a complicated woman,” he said of his mother.
“Always was.” Harrison’s smile spoke of deep understanding for Cassandra’s ways.
“Are you really here indefinitely?” Roper asked.
Harrison nodded. “As long as it takes,” he said, then turned to Amy. “A pleasure.” He lifted her hand for a kiss.
“Same here,” she said, her cheeks pink.
He turned and strode down the street, hands in his leather jacket pockets, whistling as he walked.
“Hmm.” Roper stared after the man, at a loss for words. “Nothing about tonight was what I expected.”
“I bet not. Your brother is a character,” she said.
“He was too pushy with Harrison, too crude with Mom and too eager to get away from me.” He glanced at the dark sky thickened with clouds. “Frustrating,” he muttered. “So what did you think of Harrison Smith?”
“A very interesting man,” Amy said, her eyes sparkling with intrigue. “I know I’ve only recently met your mother, but I can’t imagine anybody flustering her the way Harrison does.” Amy rubbed her hands together briskly.
She obviously still wasn’t used to the cold. “I’ve known her forever and I’ve never seen anything like it, either.” He flagged an empty taxi.
The cab slowed to a stop in front of them. Roper held the door open so Amy could slide inside before joining her. She gave her address to the driver and Roper, exhausted from his day, decided not to argue.
“Does it bother you? That he’s so obviously interested?” Amy asked.
Roper didn’t have to think about his answer. He shook his head. “Not as long as the man’s feelings are real and he isn’t using her reaction to him as a means to get her to take the role.”
The role, as well as the man, really had to be right for Cassandra Lee. Roper would have to do some digging into the director’s past and make sure the man was good enough for his mother.
“Well, he seems genuine,” Amy said.
“Says the woman who was ready to fall at his feet,” Roper said, laughing.
She playfully smacked his shoulder. “I was not. I could see your mother’s dilemma clearly, that’s all. Harrison is a charming man.”
“A mix of Sean Connery and Jack Nicholson and a pit bull. Is that what you like in a guy? A bulldozer?” Roper asked.
“That’s an interesting question.” Amy leaned her head back and glanced at him. “I haven’t thought about it, really. I think it’s all about chemistry and whether, like you said, the man is the real thing. The rest should come naturally.” Her voice dropped lower, thicker, making him think she was referring to them.
Or maybe that’s just what he wanted to believe.
Inside his pocket, his phone rang, interrupting the dark intimacy of the back of the cab, and Roper groaned. He pulled it out of his pocket. “What is it?” he asked.
“Now do you understand why I can’t take the role or be alone with him?” His mother didn’t bother to say hello first. “He wants to have lunch tomorrow to discuss the part. I need you there.”
Her voice was loud enough for Amy to hear, and she groaned, too.
Roper rolled his eyes. By the time his mother let him interrupt her long enough to say he’d discuss lunch with her later tonight, the taxi had pulled up to Amy’s building. While he was hanging up the phone, she’d thanked him and promised to call him from the office tomorrow to discuss mail forwarding among other things.
He’d planned to walk her in and kiss her good-night. He’d have settled for just kissing her right there in the cab.
Instead, the opportunity to segue into any kind of a kiss was lost. He slammed his hand onto the torn leather backseat in frustration, then gave the cabbie his address.
The life of an orphan suddenly seemed appealing, he thought wryly.
* * *
After last night, Amy realized she needed a new plan of action for Roper, and by the late afternoon, she had one in place.
Still, as she sat at her desk, she couldn’t help but take one last look at the daily papers. The Post lay on top of the pile. Metro Jock Receives Major Shock. The article went on to discuss the frustrating news Roper had received from his doctor and how unconfirmed rumors had him pushing back his start date to weeks after the start of spring training.
She called her secretary on the intercom. “Kelly?”
“Yes?”
“Do me a favor? Please pull all the most recent sightings and blurbs about Roper and make sure I have them before I leave?” She wanted to take a look at where Roper had been when he was sighted and ask him to think about whom he’d spoken to each time. She needed to see if there was a connection or common denominator. Clearly someone was out to punish Roper. But whether it was Buckley or the crazy fan or someone in his personal circle, she had no idea.
“How the hell do they find out about these things?” Amy asked in frustration.
“Good question. I don’t got an answer, either,” Yank Morgan said as he entered her office without knocking, cane in hand, fluffy dog at his side.
“Hi, Yank.”
“Hi, girlie. How are you doin’?”
“Fine, if not for these.” She ran her hand over the stack of newspapers. “Did you see that Frank Buckley’s been picked up by satellite radio with a corresponding TV deal? He won’t just be seen and heard in New York. The whole country will get to experience the foul man.”
Yank nodded. “Lola read it to me this morning. Don’t fret about what you can’t change and change what you can. That’s what I always say. In other words, forget about Buckley the Bastard.”
“I would if the media would let me.” She flipped over the paper that had Buckley’s deal on the back and picked up the Daily News. It, too, had a blurb about Roper’s life. “Which metro jock was spotted with his lady of the moment and his famous actress mother at an intimate family dinner at Kelly’s restaurant? Could wedding bells be in the picture for either couple?”
“Argh!” She threw this edition into the trash.
“You must’ve just read the one about dinner. How was it anyway? I’ve been meaning to tell Lola I want to eat there one day soon.”
Amy appreciated the subject change. “Delicious. You’ll enjoy it,” she promised him. “So, are we all set?”
“You’re ready to go. Our boy thinks you’re picking him up for a business lunch with me. The limo knows to head straight up to the lodge. Dealing with the fallout is up to you.” Yank let out a loud laugh that startled Noodle from where she’d plopped onto the floor.
“I can handle it,” she said, repeating her new mantra, the one she’d adopted for maneuvering in the Hot Zone world. After all, she could think of many times she’d taken a hard stand with her mother, going so far as to lock her in her own home, just to keep her out of trouble.
“Of course you can. I just came by to wish you luck,” Yank said. He turned, whistled and walked out, dog toddling after him.
Amy gave a silent prayer for success.
Between the stress of Roper’s injury and therapy, the constant fan backlash, his mother’s daily drama and the tracking of his every movement in the paper, Amy knew she was doing the right thing.
She just knew Roper would never see it the same way.
* * *
Cassandra definitely needed a new plan of action to avoid Harrison. Running from L.A. hadn’t helped. He’d followed her. She didn’t know how much longer she could continue to convince John to act as a buffer and she knew better than to include Ben again. Harrison had told her Ben wanted to discuss a script with him. Her son was shameless and would use whoever crossed his path. She understood she wasn’t blameless in how Ben had turned out. She’d babied him for too long. But she understood him, too, and she couldn’t just cut him off, which was why she kept turning to her oldest son to help.
But who was going to help her with her director? The man was persistent in the extreme. He wanted her to return to L.A. with him as a couple and he wanted her to take that role. Television. Could she hold her head up in Hollywood after such a huge step down?
Cassandra didn’t know what she feared more, the role he wanted her to play on screen or the part he wanted to play in her life.