From Fake to Forever
by Jennifer Shirk
GENRE: Contemporary
Romance
BLURB:
EXCERPT:
“C’mon,
Uncle Bens. I’m wide-open.”
Ben
Capshaw lowered his throwing arm and glared at his agent’s son, Todd. “Will you
stop calling me that?”
“But
you are my uncle Bens,” Todd said with a frown.
“Yeah,
I guess. But when you say it like that I feel like a side dish at a Chinese
restaurant.”
The
boy snickered. “I know.”
Ben
quickly raised the football again and pretended to whip it at him. When Todd
flailed his arms and ducked, Ben had his revenge. “Nice move,” he called out
with a laugh.
Todd
laughed, too. “Okay, c’mon, throw it for real this time. I’m really ready.”
Ben
lobbed the football in the air and watched with budding disappointment as it
sailed right through Todd’s arms and bounced on the ground. Ben shook his head.
The kid obviously needed more practice. “You almost had it,” he lied.
Todd
picked up the ball and ran it back to him. “You know, I’m so glad you’re coming
for dinner, Uncle Bens. Are you and my mom sure I can’t tell anyone you’re
here?”
Ben
looked up at the sky and sighed. A sigh that clearly said, if we go through
this one more time I’m going to find your entire stash of Twinkies and eat them
all without remorse. If the kid were a little older, he’d understand that
threat and let the question lie. Instead, Todd continued to gaze up at him with
big, hopeful brown eyes.
“No,”
Ben told him firmly. “Not your BFF, not even your dog. No one. Got it?”
Todd’s
young face looked crushed.
“Look,
it’s like I told you before, I don’t want the paparazzi buzzing around here.
I’m officially on vacation.”
“In
Wood Manor, New Jersey?”
“Hey,
the beach here is just as good as Los Angeles,
and after a few days I’ll drive up to New
York City.” He loved New York in September. He’d get a haircut
and a shave, a massage, meet a few women.
Speaking
of meeting women…
Ben’s
gaze lingered again on the tasty-looking blonde sitting on the bench. He’d been
checking her out since he and Todd first arrived at the park. Couldn’t help
himself. He had a real thing for blondes, and most—thank you, God—had a real
thing for him.
“Hey,
Todd, why don’t we go to the slide over there?” Closer to that blonde.
“No
way.”
He
turned to the boy in surprise. “Why not?”
“That
slide’s for babies.”
“No,
it’s not. Look, there’s an adult over there,” he said, pointing the football
toward the bench.
Todd
looked over and made a face. “You want to go talk to that woman, don’t you?”
“Wh-what?”
Ben spluttered. “No, no. No way. Hey, stop listening to your mom about me.”
Besides, he didn’t want to talk to her, anyway. “Flirt” was a better verb
choice. He wanted to flirt with that woman. There was a difference. Anyone
could spew out words and just talk. Flirting required talent, always used with
the sole purpose of letting the other person know you’re interested. And he was
very interested in her.
However,
as much as he was tempted to go over and introduce himself, he wouldn’t. He
didn’t want to risk his anonymity. But he didn’t see the harm in getting a
better look at an attractive woman. After all, if he was in a museum, he’d
certainly want to get closer to a work of art, wouldn’t he? And from what he
could tell, that woman was a bona fide masterpiece.
She
had the kind of straight, shiny blond hair his fingers itched to feel and run
through, and a body that was slender in an athletic kind of way—built more like
a runner than a centerfold—and not at all fake like most of the women in L.A.
He was positive there was nothing cosmetically enhanced on her. Not that she
wore anything revealing to bring that kind of attention to herself. Yet,
dressed in sweatpants and a Red Sox T-shirt, she’d managed to get his attention
just the same.
“Um,
Todd, are you sure you don’t want to go over there?” he asked again, trying to
rein in and saddle his raging testosterone.
Todd
took off running. “You have to catch me first,” he called out with a laugh.
That
little bugger. Ben dropped the football and ran after him. Todd was fast,
weaving his way around the wooden maze of forts and playground equipment and
then disappearing from his sight. Ben climbed up the rope to the wooden
platform and scanned the area. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of
Todd ducking into a tube slide. Ha! Gotcha now, kid. He ran over and climbed
into a slide himself, hoping to catch him by surprise.
The
only problem was he didn’t slide down.
He
began to twist, realizing his shoulders were wedged in tight. With one arm
pinned down and the other arm up, he tried shifting his hips to wiggle back up.
That didn’t work, either. Okay, he wasn’t sure how he’d managed this strange,
bizarre feat, but he needed some help.
Crap.
He could see the headline now: “Career Not Only Thing Going Down Tubes.” Oh,
man, his agent and publicist would have his head on a platter if that happened.
He’d be lucky to get local theater work after that. Served him right for
showing off and acting like a ten-year-old instead of the thirty-four-year-old
he was.
Where
the hell is Todd?
Ben
heard movement above him. Thank goodness. He looked up, ready to ream Todd out
for leaving him hanging so long. But he clamped his lips shut when he stared
directly into the face of a cherubic little girl instead.
“Excuse
me. Now it my turn,” she said in a tiny voice.
“Uh…well,
you have to wait. See, I can’t move right now.”
She
frowned. “But I said excuse me.”
“Yeah,
I know, but—”
Her
little face puckered and those big blue eyes filled with tears, which set the
alarm bells ringing. No, no, please. I beg you! Oh, man, the kid was going to
cry on him.
Where
the hell is Todd!
The
little girl did begin to cry—not with the loud, obnoxious wailing he half
expected, but with a quiet, trembling frown and dime-size tears that fell like
an H5 hailstorm. It made him want to break down and cry, too. He didn’t need
this right now—stuck as he was—especially since he had no clue how to convey he
was telling the truth to such a young child. About to send out a verbal SOS to
Todd, he saw the blonde from the bench spring out before him.
Thank
you, God. Maybe it wasn’t exactly how he wanted to meet this woman, but at
least she would understand the situation, and he could finally get some help.
But when he gazed up into the woman’s ready-to-kill eyes, he doubted very much
that the cavalry had arrived.
“What
did you do to my daughter?” she accused in that stern
mother-cub-protecting-her-baby voice.
Oh,
great. Her daughter. More bad PR. Now they were going to add child abuse to the
headline. “Nothing,” he insisted. “Honest. Look, she just wants to go down the
slide.”
The
blonde folded her arms. “Well, let her, then.”
The
woman’s demand gave him pause. Okay, she obviously didn’t understand his
predicament any better than her kid had. “I…uh…can’t,” he said with a sheepish
grin. “I’m kind of stuck. Maybe a little help?” He waved his one free arm, but
she looked at it as though it were covered with warts.
“Maybe
I should call the police for help instead,” she said, drawing her daughter to
her side.
“No
police!”
The
woman flinched from his outburst. He didn’t mean to freak out on her, but the
police equaled the press in his book. Then bad headlines. Then unhappy agent.
Then less work. The list went on.
He
cleared his throat. “No police, please,” he repeated more calmly. “In fact,
don’t call anyone.”
An
odd expression—somewhere between nausea and hysteria—crossed her pretty
features, and she grabbed her daughter’s hand. “Let’s go.”
Go?
Go where? He watched in disbelief as the woman began to lead her daughter away.
Did she think he was faking it? Didn’t she recognize him? The woman was
actually turning her back on him.
“Wait!”
he shouted. “I’m not kidding! Come back! What about me?”
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Jennifer Shirk has a
bachelor degree in pharmacy-which has in NO WAY at all helped her with her
writing career. But she likes to point it out, since it shows
romantic-at-hearts come in all shapes, sizes, and mind-numbing educations.
She writes sweet (and
sometimes even funny) romances for Samhain Publishing, Avalon Books/Montlake
Romance and now Entangled Publishing. She won third place in the RWA 2006 NYC's
Kathryn Hayes Love and Laughter Contest with her first book, THE ROLE OF A
LIFETIME. Recently, her novel SUNNY DAYS FOR SAM won the 2013 Golden Quill
Published Authors Contest for Best Traditional Romance.
Lately she's been on a
serious exercise kick. But don't hold that against her.
Author Website:
www.jennifershirk.com
Author Blog: http://jennifershirk.blogspot.com/
Author Twitter:
https://twitter.com/JenniferShirk
Author Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/authorjennifershirk
Author Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/jennifershirk
Newsletter: eepurl.com/Q6TH1
https://www.amazon.com/Fake-Forever-Jennifer-Shirk-ebook/dp/B01F1YMJNK/
Thanks so much for having me! <3
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