the fact that he had someone determined to remind him of his failures. He accepted the envelope from Amy and tossed it aside.
“You’re welcome. Now, I’m here because I have a plan.” Amy’s eyes glittered with excitement. “I was up late working on a way to organize your life and give you the time you need. I really think you’re going to be impressed.”
“Who’s at the door?” his mother called, her voice coming closer with every word she spoke.
“Your sister?” Amy whispered.
He shook his head. “Worse.”
At that moment, Cassandra Lee joined them in all her dramatic glory. “John, aren’t you going to introduce me to your-”
“Mom, this is Amy Stone, Amy this is my mother, Cassandra Lee,” he said, cutting her off before she could draw any conclusions about who Amy was. No way was he playing “fill in the blanks” with his mother.
Amy’s eyes opened wide. Clearly she hadn’t been expecting to find the movie star in the flesh. To Amy’s credit, she recovered quickly and stepped forward, her hand extended. “I’m a huge fan,” she admitted. “It’s wonderful to meet you. John’s told me so much about you!”
“All of it good, of course?” his mother said, lightly clasping Amy’s hand.
“Is there anything else?” Amy asked, working his mother like a pro. “I had no idea you were coming to town.”
“That’s because John didn’t know, either. I just love surprises and I missed my children.” Her gaze darted away from Amy’s just enough for Roper to know his mother was lying.
Just enough. Because Cassandra Lee was an accomplished actress, only her son would have caught the slip.
“I’m sure you know John’s sister is planning a wedding and she needs my help,” his mother continued.
Unfortunately for him, it didn’t matter why his mother was here. Only that she’d arrived and planned on staying. Which meant what little peace and quiet he had, which admittedly wasn’t much, was now over.
He had one source of salvation and she just happened to have arrived at the right moment. He wondered if Amy could save him from his family or if she just believed she could. He supposed he’d know soon enough.
Amy met John’s gaze over his mother’s head. He winked at her, but in his eyes, she saw the plea for help. She had to admit being needed by him was seductive, even if it was her job to keep his mother out of his way.
She’d planned on talking to him about his brother, but she could adapt to the unexpected. Surely even a famous actress had to be easier to deal with than the perpetually naked residents she dealt with back in Florida.
“I’m exhausted after traveling all night. Would you mind if we got to know each other later? I need to lie down.” Without waiting for a reply, Cassandra started for the guest room down the hall.
“Wait!” Amy strode up to her. “You don’t want to stay here, do you? John gets up early in the morning. Wouldn’t a hotel suite be more comfortable? You’d have room service day or night, turn-down service in the evening and a full staff to make you more comfortable,” Amy said, finishing on a winded breath.
Cassandra’s eyes lit up at her suggestion. “That’s a wonderful idea. John, wherever did you find her?” his mother asked.
Amy glanced at Roper, whose tight smile had turned into a full-fledged grin. A sexy grin, not that she wanted to admit as much.
“I work for the Hot Zone,” Amy said.
He walked over and slung a casually draped arm over her shoulder. “Isn’t she the best?” Roper asked.
“I must admit she’s got more on the ball than the usual women you associate with.” Cassandra looked Amy over with practiced ease.
She tried not to fidget under the scrutiny or imagine how she came up short compared to the other women in Roper’s life. A New York makeover could only go so far…
As if sensing her discomfort, Roper pulled her closer. His body aligned with hers, bare chest and all. Heat shot upward as his masculine morning scent wrapped around her, making her tingle.
She swallowed hard, then cleared her throat. “Well, why don’t I go make that hotel reservation?”
“Good idea, but not the Ritz Carlton or the Waldorf. I prefer the London NYC. Their staff is my favorite. Book me one of their specialty suites.”
“Mother, you do not need twenty-two-hundred square feet of space for a short stay. Book her a Vista Suite.”
“A two-bedroom,” Cassandra countered.
“Fine,” Roper said through clenched teeth.
Obviously this was a vintage performance by his mother.
“Please ask if Chef Gordon Ramsay is in town. If so, invite him to dinner. We’re old friends,” she said, as if Amy were her assistant.
Amy accepted the direction with a nod, and his mother continued to instruct Amy on her likes and preferences. She wished she had her pen and paper ready.
“When you call, you may tell them who I am, but put the reservation under John’s name and ask them not to let
Amy nodded. Another celebrity quirk she assumed. One that would get Cassandra Lee the perks due her by virtue of her name but assure her some privacy at the same time.
Desiring anonymity with the media was something Amy could understand. “No problem. Anything else?”
Cassandra shook her head. “No, I’ll talk to them when I arrive and make sure I have what I need, but thank you. You’re a doll.”
Roper squeezed Amy’s forearm lightly, which she took as a show of appreciation.
A few phone calls and no less than three interruptions later, Amy had arranged for a Vista Suite that overlooked Central Park with extra-special service to compensate for the fact that the two-bedroom rooms were booked, lucky for Roper. She hired a limousine to pick Cassandra up and drive her over, with a stop at Saks on the way so she could pick up some clothes to tide her over until her suitcases were found.
And thirty minutes after that, Roper’s mother was gone in a flurry of air kisses and promises to call after she’d napped and taken a refreshing bath. It was only 10:00 a.m.
Roper collapsed on the couch in the living room, patting the space beside him.
“Your mother is a living, breathing tornado,” Amy said, flopping down next to him.
“Welcome to my world. Yet you handled her like a pro.” Awe tinged his voice as he tipped his head to one side.
She met his gaze and tried not to read more into the molten stare than gratitude, but it was hard. The problem for Amy was more than attraction. She liked doing things for him. She enjoyed helping him and being successful at it. And she definitely liked it when he looked at her with those bedroom eyes that held promises she just knew he was capable of keeping.
“It’s what I’m paid to do,” she reminded herself, and him. Too bad she wasn’t listening.
“And you did it well.”
She didn’t miss the sudden drop in his tone. The husky sound had her heart skipping a beat.
“Now, about that date…”
The one she’d refused to think about since he’d mentioned it at lunch the day before.
He stretched his arm over the couch, not so subtly reaching her shoulders with his fingertips. She recognized the practiced move for what it was and shot him a knowing look he ignored.
She wished she could do the same with his suggestion they go on a date. “It isn’t a good idea to mix business with pleasure,” she told him.
“I couldn’t agree more.”
She grew immediately wary. “You agree with me?”
He nodded. “Of course I do. Business is business. That’s what you did for me this morning and that’s what we’ll discuss in a few minutes. Our date will be personal. We won’t mix the two at all.”
She rolled her eyes, unable to hold back a laugh. “That’s ass-backwards logic.” But a damn good attempt at manipulating her into saying yes, she silently admitted.
He chuckled. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at eight?”
“I don’t remember saying yes.”
