Masquerade (5 page)

Chapter 5

Clarissa
was loading the last of the dishes into the dishwasher when the phone rang. She picked up the receiver, holding it between her shoulder and her ear, so she could pour the soap into the dispenser. “Hello?”

“Mrs. Hancock?” a deep and familiar voice asked.

She hesitated at the name, hesitated because she couldn’t place the voice, then answered, “Yes?”

“This is Slade Jacobson. Listen, there’s been a change in plans that I wanted to talk to you about.”

Clarissa’s heart fell. He didn’t need her after all. He’d changed his mind and hired someone else. She was back where she had started, with no job.

“I wanted to know if you could come to Hawaii for the week and watch Bella when I’m busy there.” He added, “I’ll pay for Elaina’s and your flight and room, of course.”

“Hawaii?” Clarissa asked, because it was the only word her lips could currently utter.

“Bella was having a hard time with me leaving, and I thought it would be better for everyone if I took her along.” He paused
. “I realize that your husband might not approve of you going off to Hawaii for a week with me, so if you have to decline I’ll—”

“He won’t mind.” Perhaps she said the words too quickly
, because Slade didn’t reply for a moment. She should have added some explanation, such as “because he trusts me,” but she couldn’t bring herself to deepen the lie. She let the words stand and waited for his reply.

“Well,”
Slade said lightly, “that goes to show you what
In Step
magazine knows. It said most husbands wouldn’t allow their wives within ten feet of me, but you . . . your husband doesn’t mind you going off for a week with me.”

“O
nly because it’s business. I mean . . .”

She could tell from the tone of his voice h
e was smiling. “No, don’t explain. My ego will recover eventually. I’m just making sure I’m not creating any problems before I buy your plane tickets.”

“Yes,” she said.

“Yes to the problems or the plane tickets?”

“The tickets. Not the problems. There are absolutely no problems where my husband is concerned.”

“Really? A husband with no problems? Count yourself lucky, Mrs. Hancock.”

“Yes, I’m very lucky.” Again she said the words too quickly. They seemed forced even to her ear.

He didn’t question her about it. “All right. Be here at eleven-thirty Thursday morning with your bags packed.”

“
Eleven-thirty. Right. Thank you. I’ll see you then.” She vaguely remembered saying good-bye before she hung up. It was hard to think of phone etiquette when she’d just learned she was going to Hawaii.

How wonderful. How symbolic. She’d gotten a divorce and was now on her way to paradise. What could be better?

It wasn’t until later that the full implications hit her. First, she’d just learned Slade’s four-year-old daughter had the ability to rearrange her father’s schedule by getting upset. That didn’t bode well for Clarissa’s future as a disciplinarian in this child’s life. If Slade was willing to pay for flights and a room to keep Bella from being cross, how long would he keep a nanny who upset her?

Second, it was one thing to tell a man you were married
if you weren’t going to see him again for a week. But now he, Clarissa, Bella, and Elaina would be together off and on for the entire job.

Elaina was not even four yet. She didn’t fully grasp the concept of keeping secrets. Without much prodding she would probably let the cat, her kittens, and an entire assortment of farm animals out of the bag. How would Slade react if he
found out Clarissa was lying to him?

These thoughts continued to press in on her during the evening, and by the time she went to bed, Hawaii didn’t seem nearly the paradise she had first imagined it to be.

Chapter 6

It wasn’t until Slade lay in the darkness of his bedroom that he realized he’d made a mistake in hiring the new nanny. He had felt uneasy about it ever since his phone call, but he hadn’t been able to put his finger on what was bothering him. Now he knew.

She was too pretty.

Of course he had noticed this before. He’d noticed it the first time she looked up at him from beside the couch. But he didn’t hold it against her then. After all, just because she was pretty didn’t mean she wasn’t also competent. Looks didn’t matter in a nanny position. Clarissa Hancock was an experienced mother who was working on a degree in family science and, judging from her interview, was the type of person who could roll with the punches—all necessary qualifications in a caretaker for Bella.

So he hadn’t held it against Clarissa that she had eyes like an angel and legs that made a man feel, well, less than angelic. He was, after all, open-minded where beautiful women were concerned.

The press wouldn’t be nearly as lenient in their views. If some of the media people covering the
Undercover Agents
shoot happened to see him check into the resort with Clarissa at his side, the quality of childcare she provided would be the last thing they’d consider. Rumors would fly. The tabloids would pounce on any hint of a story. Would Clarissa’s problem-free husband be so understanding then?

Slade tossed from one side of his bed to the other in an attempt to get more comfortable. He should have gone with that McGrath woman. She looked like someone who could play Mrs. Claus at the mall. No one would make anything of seeing the two of them together.

Of course, it was too late to change his mind now. He’d already offered the job to Clarissa, so he’d have to make the best of it. They would be discreet. They would check in at the resort late, after the media people had left the cast alone. He’d make sure he never stood too close to Clarissa. And a child would be between them at all times. Better yet, he’d invite Meredith to come along on the trip with them. She hadn’t taken a vacation in a while. She deserved a trip to Hawaii. And besides, that way he could make sure a child
and
Meredith stood between him and Clarissa at all times.

Slade stretched out his legs and felt a little better. Everything in Hollywood took jimmying and gerrymandering, and this was just one more thing to work around in order to sell his script.

Chapter 7

The next day Clarissa ran around collecting everything she needed for the trip. She took her old blue swimsuit from a drawer and held it up to herself. She imagined lying on the beach wearing it, then grimaced. Swimsuits were never a pleasant consideration, and the thought of wearing one in front of Slade Jacobson was doubly unwelcome. He had probably never seen a woman in a swimsuit who hadn’t had a skilled team of professionals create her for the occasion.

Perhaps if she got a new suit
and a tan and . . . she touched a strand of her shoulder-length blonde hair. Well, it was almost blonde. It had been blonde when she was younger. Now it seemed determined to turn light brown. Perhaps she could highlight it.

Clarissa
considered the swimsuit, then threw it into her suitcase. It was ridiculous to spend a lot of money to go on this trip. She was supposed to be earning money. And why try to impress her boss, anyway? He thought she was married. A housewife. The dowdier she appeared, the better.

The phone rang, and she answered it while searching through her closet for her sandals.

“Clarissa?”

Clarissa recognized the voice and chided herself for not checking the caller ID before she answered.
“Hi Renea.”

“I’
m so glad I finally caught you,” Clarissa’s ex-sister-in-law spoke in her usual melodic manner, like she was excited about everything she said. “I’ve wanted to talk to you for ages.”

“
Oh? What have you been up to?”

“Therapy. And I feel absolutely wonderful.”

Clarissa didn’t ask for what. It didn’t matter, and it was all the same anyway. Renea had gone through every pop psychology fad, spa treatment, and herbal remedy in existence. She wasn’t a person who tried to solve her problems—she celebrated them.

Clarissa shifted the phone to
her ear so she could better reach the back of her closet. “I’m glad you’re doing well.”

“During my last session with Dr.
Blumen, I told him about you and Alex, and it suddenly occurred to me that the two of you need to come in and see him.”

Clarissa momentarily stopped rummaging through shoes. She
examined a pair of worn tennis shoes, then threw them into the suitcase. “It’s a little late for that.”

“It’s never too late to recover.”

“Alex and I are divorced, Renea. There’s nothing left to recover.”

“You see, you’re in the first stage of grief: denial.”

Clarissa kept her voice pleasant. “It’s nice you’re concerned about us, but I think it’s best if we both get on with our lives.”

“Denial, denial, denial.”

“It isn’t denial. It’s a statement of fact. We’re divorced.”

“If you’d come to therapy
, you’d learn you can change, Clarissa.”

“
I
can change?”

“It isn’t too late to fix things with Alex.”

Clarissa took a deep breath, her resolve to be pleasant quickly evaporating. “Listen, as much as I’d love to sit and chat with you, I’m packing for a trip to Hawaii with Slade Jacobson, so I’m pressed for time.”

For a moment nothing but silence came across the phone, and then Renea said, “This is so sad, Clarissa. Now you’ve moved on to the next stage of grief: delusion.”

“I’ve got to go, Renea.” Clarissa didn’t wait to hear more. She hung up the phone and went back to packing.

* *
*

The flight to Hawaii was uneventf
ul. Well, as uneventful as five-and-a-half hours on a plane with two young children could be. Although Clarissa tried her best to entertain the girls, Bella and Elaina went through eighteen storybooks, four sticker books, a paper doll community, an entire bag of potato chips, and the patience of at least three adults and two cabin attendants before the plane touched down in Honolulu.

Afte
r retrieving their luggage, the group took a limo to an upscale Chinese restaurant for dinner. While they waited for their food, Bella taught Elaina the joy of knock-knock jokes. Neither of the girls understood the concept of a punch line, but they still laughed uproariously at the end of each joke, and sometimes in the middle too.

Everyone was tired when they finally got
back into the limo and headed to Oahu’s north shore. Slade seemed especially tense. None of the charm, none of the gentleness he’d shown when they had sat on his dining room floor discussing parenting surrounded him now. He was distant and aloof. He hardly said anything to Clarissa, and when he did speak, he seemed irritable.

Actors, Clarissa supposed, thought they had a right to be moody.
The limo left Honolulu behind and drove along a two-lane road that hugged the jutting hills of Oahu. In the darkness she caught glimpses of the foliage they passed, and she strained to see it better.

Earlier, as they had driven from the airport, she noticed a lot of the plants in Honolulu were identical to those in California: palm trees, bougainvillea, lantana, and
thomberi trees. But somehow this island foliage seemed more exotic. These trees and bushes were bigger and lusher, as if they knew they belonged in Hawaii. Those same plants in California were just sadly making do because they’d been planted there.

Clarissa suddenly wished she had job skills that could be used anywhere
. Like a doctor . . . or professor. If she had stayed in school instead of getting pregnant, she could be here on her way to teach school instead of being somebody’s nanny.

Then
Clarissa looked over at Elaina, and those thoughts vanished. Her little girl was whispering instructions to her stuffed dachshund. “You’ve got to be a good dog in Y-ee or no ice cream.”

How could Clarissa regret staying home to raise Elaina? She treasured every moment they’d spent together.

The limo pulled off the main road and onto another. Clarissa saw the lights of a large building glowing off in the distance and knew they would soon be pulling up to the resort. She ran her hand across Elaina’s shiny blonde hair. “We’re almost there.”

Slade said something sharply under his breath, then Bella said loudly, “Daddy, we don’t say bad words. It’s rule number twelve, remember?”

“I know. I’m sorry, Bella.”

Clarissa looked over at Slade to see what had angered him. He
stared out the window at the now-imminent resort.

“The press,” he said. “They have vans all over the parking lot.” He shook his head. “
Undercover Agents
must have some publicity thing going on, and we’re walking right into it.”

Meredith
slipped the book she’d been reading into her carry-on bag. “You’ll find a way to handle it.”

“I thought actors liked publicity,” Clarissa said.

“Sure,” Slade muttered. “You like it when you’re working on a project, but not when you’re checking into a hotel with . . .” He waved a hand toward Clarissa.

“Small children?”
she asked.

“A beautiful woman,” he said and didn’t sound pleased.

Clarissa stared at him. “You don’t mean me, do you?”

“Well, I don’t think he’s referring to me,” Meredith said with exaggerated offense.

Slade turned away from the window. “Stop fishing for compliments, Meredith. You’re an attractive woman, but not one the press will think I’m having an affair with. Clarissa . . .”

The
limo was nearly to the front of the resort, and the driver looked back at them. “Where do you want me to let you off?”

Slade
hesitated, then said, “Drive around to the back of the parking lot until we figure something out.”

The car moved smoothly
in that direction.

Clarissa looked from the building back to Slade. “
Can’t you just explain that I’m the nanny?”

“Mrs. Hancock,” Slade said slowly, “you’re either naive, or you’ve never paid attention to the tabloids. Facts aren’t a big concern for them.”

Meredith shuffled around a few things in her carry-on bag. “So ignore each other. It’s as simple as that.”

Clarissa
picked up her purse from the floor. “I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

Bella
bounced on her seat and chimed, “What’s an affair, Daddy?”

“Something Clarissa and your daddy are not having,” Meredith said back cheerily.

“Okay,” Slade lifted a hand, “this is what we’ll do. You four go into the resort ahead of me and check in. The reporters will leave you alone because you’re not important—”

“Thanks,” Meredith said.

“You know what I mean,” he said. “Then after about fifteen minutes I’ll come in. When I’m checked in, I’ll give Clarissa a call, and she can bring Bella to my room. Everybody got that?”

“I’ve never seen you before in my life,” Clarissa said again.

Elaina nodded solemnly. “Me either.”

“Are reporters bad guys?” Bella asked, tilting her head so her curls lay against her shoulder.

“No,” Meredith said.

“Yes,” Slade said, “and you’re to stay away from them.”

Clarissa undid the girls’ seatbelts, while Meredith opened the door. As they got out of the limo, Clarissa asked, “What about our luggage?”

“I’ll have
a porter bring them in.” Slade shut the door behind them with a heavy thud, disappearing behind the tinted windows.

Clarissa took each girl by the hand, and they began trudging across the parking lot.

Meredith bent down and adjusted one of the straps on her heels. “I wish he’d dropped us off closer to the building. These aren’t the most comfortable shoes, and I’m not as young as I used to be—as Slade so kindly pointed out.”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean—”

“Oh, you don’t need to defend him. Slade and I go way back.” Meredith straightened and continued across the parking lot. “I love him like a son. It’s just that he never thinks about what he’s going to say before he says it. That’s not a good quality in Hollywood, and I’m constantly telling him to work on it. The problem is, he listens to me like a son—which is to say, not at all.”

Elaina shuffled her feet as she walked, kicking tiny bits of gravel. Clarissa tried to hurry her, then gave up, bent down, and picked her up.

Bella looked up at Elaina and frowned. “I want someone to carry me too.”

“We’re alm
ost there,” Meredith said. “If an old woman like me can make it, then so can you.”

Bella walked slower.
“I’m tired. I want Daddy to carry me.”

“Your daddy will come in a few minutes,” Clarissa said. “We have to get to that building, and then he’ll come.”

Bella glanced at the resort. Her frown didn’t disappear. “I want Daddy now.”

It was late by California time, way past the girls’ bedtimes.
Apparently that fact was finally taking its toll.

“Here,” Meredith told Bella, “let me carry you.”

Bella’s frown turned to tears, and she pulled her hand away from Clarissa. “Where’s my daddy?”

Clarissa had known these moments would come when she accepted the job, but she hadn’t expected them to take place just seconds after she
was left in charge. She bent down to Bella’s level. Softly, reasonably, she said, “Bella, don’t you remember what your daddy said in the car? We have to go check into our rooms, and then he’ll come get you. If you stay here crying, he won’t be able to find us.”

Logic did not do the trick. Bella stood fixed to the spot and let out
a deep, dramatic sob. Clarissa sighed and put Elaina down. Without another word, she picked up Bella and continued toward the building again. “Come on, Elaina,” she told her daughter. “Mommy needs you to walk now.”

Elaina furrowed her brows
and didn’t seem eager to move forward.

Meredith looked from one little girl to the next. “Do you want me to carry someone?”

“I can manage it. After all, I’m the nanny. I’m supposed to be able to deal with these situations.” She walked slowly forward and was grateful Elaina followed instead of staying put. “Besides,” she told Meredith, “Bella must weigh forty pounds. You shouldn’t have to lug her around.”

“Ah, yes,” Meredith said. “I forgot that everyone thinks I’m old. Between you and Slade reminding me, I can tell this will be a fabulous vacation.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Clarissa said, and then to change the subject added, “Elaina, can you walk faster?”

Meredith took Elaina’s hand, smiled down at her, and said in an
overly-loud voice, “Thank you, Elaina, for walking and being such a good girl. We appreciate it.”

Bella sobbed
less noisily at this, as though she was trying her best to be good but couldn’t quite manage it, what with a broken heart and all.

When
they reached the courtyard in front of the building, they walked past a crowd of people gathered outside the resort. Most of them were teenage girls, standing in clumps and fidgeting with excitement. A few reporters were scattered here and there. Instead of jeans, they wore business attire, had crisply hair-sprayed hair, and had cameramen trailing behind them. Every few seconds the reporters peered anxiously around. No one paid attention to Clarissa and her entourage of tired preschoolers.