Ooh, La La!, page 7
She quickly looked away. “Thank you,” she said primly.
“No problem.” He couldn’t help but glance at her skirt, and felt a stab of disappointment that it didn’t fall open as it had earlier.
A slender, fifty-something woman in jeans and a red sweatshirt that said PROPERTY OF THE F.B.I. stood on the porch, a camera dangling from around her neck. Her gray-streaked, light-brown hair swirled around her head in short, chaotic curls, and her features were so similar to Kate’s that he didn’t need to ask her identity.
The woman hurried down the porch. “Kate, I’m glad you’re home. I was getting worried about you.”
“I’m a big girl, Mom,” Kate replied. “And it’s not even dark yet.” Skye clambered out of the vehicle, her boots thudding loudly on the cement.
The woman’s eyes grew round as Moon Pies. She pressed a hand to her cheek. “My Lord! Skye, is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me.” The girl plodded up the steps to the porch.
“Skye, go to your room and change clothes,” Kate directed.
The older woman’s face twisted into a worried, almost panic-stricken frown. She stepped into Skye’s path, forcing her to stop. “Dear heavens, child—why are you dressed like that? And what is that stuff all over your face?”
Skye looked down at her black-painted fingernails. “It’s a long story, Grams.”
The older woman stared at her, her eyes full of distress. “You look just like a girl I saw on TV. She’d been kidnapped by a cult, and they tried to brainwash her. The first thing they did was change her appearance to isolate her from her family and the rest of the world.”
Skye looked back at Zack and rolled her eyes, then turned back to her grandmother. “Gee, Grams, what a coincidence— that’s just what happened to me!”
The older woman stepped back, clutching both hands over her chest.
“Yeah, it was really awful.” Skye’s face was poker-straight, her eyes innocent. “I was abducted by a cult of crazed tourists. They grabbed me and forced me to the Macy’s makeup counter, and I had to endure a really, really bad makeover.”
Zack burst out in a loud laugh. When he saw Kate’s stern expression, he quickly disguised his amusement in a fit of coughing.
“Skye Marie, stop baiting your grandmother and go upstairs this minute,” Kate ordered. “While you’re there, I want you to write a two-page essay about why it’s wrong to skip school, and another two-page paper about why you shouldn’t go to the French Quarter alone. You’re confined to your room until they’re finished.”
“Aw, Mom!”
“Go on," Kate ordered.
The girl clomped to the front door and disappeared inside. The older woman watched the door close, then turned to Kate, her blue eyes anxious. “Was she really kidnapped?”
“Of course not, Mom.” Kate’s voice had the weary edge of someone who was tired of making explanations. “She played hooky from school and went to the French Quarter.”
“Hooky? She told me she was staying after school to work on a science project.” The woman ran a hand through her hair, her eyes bewildered. “Where on earth did she get the weird getup?”
“She bought it at a thrift store. Everything’s okay, Mom. I’ll tell you all about it later.” Kate turned to Zack, looking eager to change the topic. “Mom, this is Zack Jackson. Zack, this is my mother, Ruth.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Zack said.
Ruth’s face softened with a smile as she extended her hand. “I feel like I already know you, as often as you’ve been in my living room. On TV, I mean.” She pumped his hand up and down enthusiastically, making the camera on her neck sway against her chest. “Katie used to live for your show. Why, she had pictures of you taped all over her bedroom, and—”
Zack was amused to see Kate’s cheeks turn bright pink. “I think he gets the picture, Mom.”
“And to think that now she’s working with you on a movie!” Ruth shook her head just as vigorously as she’d just shaken his hand. “It’s a small world, isn’t it?”
“Getting smaller all the time,” Zack agreed. Not to mention weirder. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I couldn’t help but notice that there was a police car in your driveway. Did you have some kind of problem?”
Ruth leaned forward, as if she were imparting a confidence. “A car drove by with a suspicious-looking man in it.”
“Suspicious-looking how?”
“He was going at a snail’s pace, looking at the houses, as if he were casing them. And I thought he looked like one of the mug shots I saw down at the post office.” She patted her camera. “So I took several pictures and called the police. Officer Michaels came by to take my statement and my roll of film.” She looked at Kate and shook her head woefully. “He said they’re not going to be able to give me back the pictures anymore. I’ll have to get them developed myself from now on if I want to keep the prints.”
Kate lifted her shoulders. “Well, you know what they say, Mom—all good things must come to an end.”
Ruth gave an indignant sniff. “Well, you’d think they could at least pick up the tab for my film, since I’m helping them do their job. They’ve always done it before.”
“So, this happens pretty often?” Zack couldn’t resist asking.
“Oh, yes,” Ruth said. “Criminals are everywhere. People just don’t realize it because they don’t know what to look for.”
But I bet you do. The lady was clearly a pancake short of a stack. “I didn’t realize New Orleans had such a bad crime problem,” he said politely.
“Oh, it’s not just New Orleans.” Ruth’s eyes were as blue as Kate’s, and just as earnest. “Crooks are everywhere, and they keep moving around so they won’t get caught. That’s why I study the wanted posters and never miss an episode of ‘America’s Most Wanted.’ And I always keep my camera with me. You never know when you’re going to get the chance to capture a bit of evidence.”
Zack glanced at Kate. She lifted her shoulders in an embarrassed little shrug.
Ruth’s eyes suddenly narrowed. “What happened to your car, Kate?”
“It’s at the Hyatt.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t leave it there overnight, especially on a weekend. It might get stolen.”
Kate blew out a hard sigh. “It’ll be fine, Mom.”
Ruth made a tsk-tsking sound. “You can’t be sure of that. There was a story about a car theft ring at the Superdome just last week. That’s right next to the Hyatt.”
Zack saw an opportunity to get Kate alone. “I can take you back to get it,” he offered. “I’m heading to the hotel now.”
“Well…” Kate hesitated. “All right. Thank you.” She turned to Ruth. “Would you mind keeping an eye on Skye?”
“Not at all. But it’ll be getting dark soon. Do you have your phone with you?”
Kate sighed. “It’s in my bag.”
“Be careful!”
“I always am, Mom.”
“Hey, Mr. Jackson!” Zack looked up to see Skye waving from an upstairs window. “Try to talk my mom into letting me be in your movie.”
Zack cast a dubious glance at Kate. “I don’t know that I can talk your mom into anything.”
“I bet you can. Remember what I told you.”
* * * * *
If his slow, sidelong smile was any indication, Zack remembered, all right. Boy, oh boy—when she got Skye alone, that child was going to get a piece of her mind. It was bad enough having her girlhood crush trotted out and discussed in front of Zack, but it was downright mortifying to have it declared still in effect.
“That’s some kid you’ve got there,” Zack remarked.
“She’s something, all right.”
Zack opened the door of the SUV and Kate stepped up. Too late, she realized the slit in her skirt had hiked up and spread apart, exposing a flash of white thigh above a lace-topped stocking. Kate quickly whipped her skirt together, hoping Zack hadn’t noticed.
No such luck. He was staring at her legs. His gaze pulled up and collided with hers. The impact was like two Mack trucks in a head-on crash. “Sorry,” she mumbled, tugging at the skirt again.
Awareness, crackling and carnal, pulsed between them for a hot, shocking moment.
His gaze seemed to see right through her, to see the mad thumping of her heart. His mouth curved in a wicked smile. “Don’t be. I’m not.”
He closed her door and circled the SUV. She leaned back against the headrest, her blood roaring in her ears, her face flaming with embarrassment. She averted her eyes as Zack climbed into the vehicle and started the engine, praying that he wouldn’t say anything further about her choice of undergarments.
Unfortunately, he seemed to have an uncanny knack for doing the very thing she feared.
“Your legs are sexy as hell.” He cast her a sidelong smile as he backed the vehicle out of the driveway. “Especially in those stockings.”
Oh, mercy—she wished she could crawl under the seat and disappear. If he continued to talk about her unconventional taste in hosiery, she’d die of humiliation.
She had to change the topic, and fast. “I’m sorry I ruined your plans for the afternoon. Thanks for taking me to the police station.”
“No problem. Glad to help.” He shifted the vehicle into drive. “I gotta say, though, I was surprised to learn you have a daughter who’s nearly a teenager. You must have been just a kid yourself when you had her.”
It wasn’t a subject she wanted to discuss, but it sure beat talking about her undergarments. “I was eighteen.”
“Were you just out of high school?”
She swallowed hard and gave him the standard lie. “I, e-e— um, eloped in the middle of my senior year.” Even after all these years, it was still hard to get out the untruthful word.
His brow shot up in surprise. “Wow. I didn’t know anyone ever really did that.” He slowed for a bicyclist. “Who was the guy? Someone you went to school with?”
Kate shook her head. “Wayne was seven years older than me.”
“So what did he do?”
“He asked me if I wanted to share his table at a really crowded McDonald’s.”
“Wow, a smooth operator.” He angled an amused smile at her. “But I meant what did he do for a living.”
Of course. Something about Zack made her feel as if her brain were swaddled in cotton. “He wanted to be an actor. He was working odd jobs and trying to save up money to move to New York City.”
“That’s where you went when you eloped?”
Kate nodded. “Somebody told him he’d have better luck breaking into show business there than in L.A.” She gave a rueful grin. “He should have tried L.A.”
“So how did he make the leap from acting to animal preservation?”
Kate’s throat constricted; the way it always did when she had to lie. “I—I’m not sure. That was after we, um”—she swallowed—“we divorced.”
Zack’s gaze rested on her curiously. “How long were you married?”
“Not long.” She averted her eyes and stared out, the side window.
What happened?”
She lifted her shoulders. “It just didn’t work out.”
“I gather he’s not very involved in Skye’s life now.”
Kate squirmed on the seat, a sense of anxiety clutching her chest. She hated talking about Wayne. Maybe discussing her underwear wasn’t so bad after all.
“Why isn’t he?” Zack pressed.
“He just isn’t.”
The professor was awfully prickly on the subject of her ex, Zack thought—not to mention tight-lipped. She hadn’t even told her daughter the reason for their breakup, except that her ex was still mad at her. What could have happened to create that kind of bad blood? He was curious as hell.
“What about you?” Kate asked. “Have you ever been married?”
Oh, hell. She was turning the tables. “Nah.”
“Why not?”
Zack hesitated. If he was going to use romance as a means of persuasion, he needed to let her know the rules of the game. He never got involved with a woman without making things clear from the very beginning. “I don’t believe in marriage.”
Kate tilted her head. “What do you mean, you don’t believe in it? Marriage isn’t the tooth fairy.”
“It’s close. ‘Happily ever after’ only happens in fiction.”
“Wow. That’s a pretty cynical take on society’s most basic institution.”
“Maybe so, but it’s honest. ‘Until death do us part’ is an unrealistic expectation.” He clicked on the blinker to make a left turn. “When the newness wears off, people get disillusioned and romance hits the skids. That’s why I always like to set an expiration date at the outset of a relationship.”
Her eyes widened. “An expiration date? Like on a carton of milk?”
Zack nodded. “Most relationships are naturally self-limiting anyway. They end when a movie’s wrapped, or the holidays are over, or a location shoot is finished. Instead of going through a lot of angst and awkwardness, it’s easier to just agree upfront that you’re going to enjoy your time together, then go your separate ways when it’s over.”
“What if the deadline arrives and you don’t want to go your separate ways?”
He shrugged. “You do anyway. That way, you have pleasant memories.”
Kate stared at him. “You’re not kidding, are you?”
Zack shook his head as he braked for a stop light. “Nothing lasts forever.”
“Well, then, how do you account for all the people who stay married for a lifetime?”
He shook his head. “Some people prefer the evil they know over the evil they don’t.”
“Love as an evil. Gee, I’m glad to see you’re not too jaded on this topic.”
“Hey, I’m a realist. But that’s not to say I’m not also a romantic.” He reached out and rubbed the back of her neck. The strands of hair that had come loose from her topknot were soft over his knuckles, and her skin was like warm silk.
Kate’s lips parted in surprise. They were nice lips, he thought distractedly—full and ripe and naturally pink. He wondered how they’d taste if he kissed her, wondered how she’d react if he tried. Would she go all stiff and wooden, or would her response be as surprising as her choice of legwear?
Damn, but he couldn’t get those stockings out of his mind.
He pulled back his hand as the light changed. She reached up and self-consciously smoothed her hair. “Well, I think you’re wrong.”
“You don’t think I’m romantic?"
Her cheeks colored. “That’s not what I’m talking about. I know for a fact that people can stay in love for a lifetime, because my parents’ marriage was like that. They positively doted on each other. When dad died, it was like part of mom died, too.”
So her mother was a widow, not a divorcee. He’d automatically assumed she was divorced. But then, he always assumed any single, formerly married person was divorced. Funny, how one interpreted things based on one’s own experience. “Well, there’s always an exception to every rule.”
“My grandparents’ marriage was like that, too. They were married for fifty-five years, and they still held hands and called each other ‘darling’ like a couple of teenagers.”
Zack lifted his shoulders. “Maybe there’s a marriage gene. If so, it doesn’t run in my family.”
Kate’s gaze was warm on his face. “Your parents divorced when you were young, didn’t they?”
Zack nodded. “I was three.”
“And you lived with your father, as I recall.”
He shot her a sly grin. “Hey, you’re pretty up on this stuff.”
“I used to read a lot of movie magazines when I was a teenager.” She gave an embarrassed smile. “I loved your dad’s spy movies. He always seemed so cool, sophisticated and clever. Was he like that in real life?”
Zack shrugged. “You’d have to ask one of his wives or girlfriends. I didn’t really see much of him.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
She said it in the tone one might use if someone had died. Zack’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. How the hell had they gotten on this topic, anyway?
“What about your mom?” Kate asked. “Did you see her often?”
Zack lifted his shoulders. “Only at Christmas. She moved to New York and had an awfully busy schedule.”
And she never penciled him into it. When he was eleven, he’d realized that she only wanted him at Christmas as a decor item, like a Christmas tree or a holiday wreath. You had to have a kid around to create the perfect setting. The memory gave him a painful twinge. After all this time, it still hurt. Maybe a person never got over not being loved by his mother.
“You must have been lonely,” Kate murmured.
“Not really. I was never alone.” If there was one thing Zack couldn’t stand, it was poor-little-rich-kid pity. He flicked on the turn signal and changed lanes. “I always had one nanny or another. And when I started acting, I had a tutor and an agent. I even had my own accountant. Dad made sure I had everything I needed.”
He could feel her warm, soft gaze again. “Everything except a parent.”
Hell. Why had he ever opened his mouth? It was way past time to change the subject.
“Yeah, well, my folks wouldn’t win any Parent-of-the-Year awards, but they introduced me to the film industry, so I owe them for that.”
“Sounds like you really like your work.”
“I love it.”
“No expiration date on that love affair?”
“I’m afraid there might be.” He shot her a solemn look. “If this movie doesn’t do well. I’m all washed up. And without the action scenes, it doesn’t stand a chance.”
Her eyes grew large and sympathetic. “I’m sure we can find a way to solve this.”
Hope swelled in Zack’s chest, but he was careful not to show it. “I don’t see how.”
“Well, maybe I can find some actual events to use in place of the ones we deleted.”
