Beside him, Amy squeezed his hand, seeming to understand.
“You mean, convincing me to take the role of someone’s mother and
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
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 he was good enough for Roper’s 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 cell 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
She called her secretary on the intercom. “Kelly?”
“Yes?”
“Do me a favor? Please pull all the most recent sightings and blurbs about Roper on the Internet, TV and radio and make sure I have copies 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
“Argh!” She threw this edition into the trash.
