“What’s the matter?” Hope asked, her heart sinking at his stunned expression. “Why are you staring at me?”
“Your hair,” Sebastian whispered.
Hope’s hand flew up to her head. She rushed to the hall mirror, with Jeremy and Sebastian behind her. Try as she might, she didn’t see anything wrong with her hair she had spent an hour styling. Finally she turned to ask him. “What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s not purple and sticking all over your head,” Sebastian told her, fingering the soft, sassy black curls framing her face.
Hope finally understood and would have relaxed if Sebastian hadn’t continued to touch her hair. “I-it was washout dye for the play I was in. I left it in as sort of a walking advertisement. Neither Della nor my customers mind.”
“Dye? Then you don’t have purple hair all the time?” he asked, reluctantly drawing his hand away.
“No,” she answered, trying to control her uneven breathing. The man definitely put her body into hyperdrive.
“Mommy’s a motorcycle lady and gets to beat up two men,” Jeremy said proudly.
Rubbing her hand across Jeremy’s head, Hope smiled. “That’s the scene Jeremy likes best.”
“Sorry this took so long,” Bridgett said, coming up to the threesome with the flower arrangement. “But I had a difficult time finding a vase big enough.”
“Here let me take that.” Sebastian lifted the large arrangement of mixed flowers, his gaze going back to Hope.
Bridgett frowned. “What did I miss?”
Jeremy giggled. “Mr. Stone thought Mommy’s hair was purple all the time.”
Sebastian looked momentarily chagrined, then laughed. “I had almost talked myself into liking the purple hair, but I have to admit you look lovely with your natural hair.” The smile vanished. “That is your natural hair, isn’t it?”
Hope opened her mouth, but Bridgett said, “A woman never discusses her hair color or her age.”
All the adults laughed. Jeremy peered up at them, puzzled. Sebastian leaned over and said, “I’ll explain it to you when you get older. Now, where shall I put this?”
* * *
Hope’s nerves, which had been settling nicely, went haywire again. Walking down the steps to the open door of the waiting limousine, she couldn’t get it out of her mind that Sebastian’s words to Jeremy indicated he’d be around for a long time. Was he just mouthing words or did he plan to see them often?
She had to admit she hoped it was the latter, and she wasn’t at all sure if it was just because of the play. The man was jaw-dropping gorgeous and always impeccably dressed. Any woman would be proud to be seen with him.
He had a style that denoted his wealth, authority, and power. Heads would always swivel when he entered a room. Rightly so. He possessed that special something that would forever set him apart from other men. The way he dressed added to his image. A measured fraction of crisp white shirt extended beyond the black tuxedo jacket. The collars of his shirt caressed, but did not bind, his neck. His black pants legs gently grazed the top of his immaculate shoes. Hope was both thrilled and a bit nervous about being in his company.
Thanking the uniformed chauffeur who held the door open, she got inside the car. Sebastian climbed in beside her. The door closed, enclosing them in a luxurious cocoon of comfort.
Despite the roominess of the backseat, she felt almost light-headed because of Sebastian’s nearness. The heat emanating from his body where their bodies touched, from shoulder to knee, wasn’t helping. The subtle fragrance of his spicy cologne whispered and teased her senses to come closer. Swallowing, she inched away.
If Sebastian noticed her moving, he didn’t comment. Instead he leaned over and picked up a white box from the leather seat across from them. “For you.”
Accepting the box, she tugged the intricate white and gold bow on top free. She glanced at Sebastian and lifted the lid. A soft sigh escaped her. Inside was a white orchid delicately tinged with pink. Trembling fingers lifted the flower. “It’s beautiful. Thank you. You didn’t have to.”
“You’re welcome, and as we get to know each other better, you’ll find out that I never do anything I don’t want to.”
There he went again, talking as if their association would be a long one. She couldn’t wait another second. “You mentioned you admired my acting. Does that mean you have a part in A Matter of Trust or in a future play for me?”
“A Matter of Trust. I want you to play Eleanor.”
Hope’s eyes rounded in shock. “But … but … I know what you said this morning at the salon, but I’d heard Margot Madison had a lock on the part.”
“I don’t lie, Hope. Ever. If they want me to direct A Matter of Trust, Margot will have nothing to do with the production,” he said tightly. Then his voice gentled. “The major backer for the play was there yesterday when you performed. He’s agreeable if you want the part.”
Sebastian went on to quote a salary that had her eyes widening again. He anticipated the cast to be finalized very quickly. Rehearsals would start in three to four weeks and the play would open six weeks later. He expected the play to run on Broadway six months, perhaps longer. “All you have to do is say yes.”
Hope was speechless. She had hoped, prayed, but now that it was happening, doubts began to creep in. Her temper had had time to cool and the ramifications of carrying the success of the play on her shoulders wasn’t comforting.
“Well?” Sebastian prompted.
Her fingers clutched the stem of the flower. “I wanted the role at first, but now I’m not so sure.” She rushed on at his hard expression. “I don’t guess I really stopped to consider that I couldn’t schedule rehearsals around Jeremy as I do my appointments at Della’s. Then there are the nightly performances and matinees. I never agree to a community theater play that will last over a week.”
“You could hire a sitter,” Sebastian pointed out.
“But it wouldn’t be me.” She twisted in her seat toward him, trying to make him understand. “Most of my relatives and those of my late husband are in Florida. I came here after my husband died, when I was barely two months pregnant. I’d always loved New York and decided to live here. Answering Bridgett’s ad for a female boarder was a god-send. She’s wonderful, but it’s important that I be there at night to listen to Jeremy’s prayers, tuck him in, read to him.”
“Jeremy wants this for you, too,” Sebastian reminded her.
“He may act and sound like an adult, but he’s still a little boy.” Hope glanced out the window at the glowing lights as the limo sped through the night. “He’d miss me and I’d miss him.”
“But think of all the advantages you could give him with your increased income,” Sebastian said, determined to win this argument. “He could attend the best private schools, eat at the finest restaurants, travel extensively. The world would be his.”
“If the play is a hit and I get job offers afterwards.”
Sebastian jerked his head back. “I’ve never had a flop in my career.”
Hope smiled at the affronted expression on his handsome face, then sobered. “No offense, but this could be the first time. I’ve had the bad experience of having a play close on me. Fortunately for us when Douglas was alive, I kept my cosmetology license current and could find work. But nothing as exclusive as Della’s.”
Her hand briefly fluttered to her hair. “My job there is my only source of income. The booth spaces there are at a premium and highly prized. I had to wait almost two years before a position opened up for me. If I left, I couldn’t expect to just walk back in. My spot would be filled and I’d have to start over someplace else trying to build up a clientele that may not be as loyal or tip as good as those at Della’s.”
While Sebastian understood her rationale, he wasn’t a man to take no. “What if I could guarantee your salary for a year?”
She shook her head. “And then what? I can’t gamble with Jeremy’s future that way.”
He studied her a long time. “I watched you on that stage. You were Eleanor and you loved it.”
She twisted the flower in her hand. “You’re right. The bright lights, the adrenaline rush. It was wonderful being on a real stage again. But nothing is as important as Jeremy’s stability and happiness.”
“You’re amazing.”
Her brows bunched. “What?”
“I said you’re amazing,” he repeated.
“I heard what you said, but why did you say it?”
“Because you are. I’ve met only a few women who were willing to put their children—or their husbands, for that matter—before their career,” he said. His ex-wife certainly wasn’t one of those women. “But in this case I think you’re wrong. You could have the career and Jeremy could have his mother. The play will be a success, I can feel it. Once it closed, you’ll be able to have your pick of roles. You’ll no longer be just an actress, you’ll be a star, and Jeremy will reap the benefits. You’ll be able to give him everything you’ve wanted for him. A pony, a swimming pool.”
“How do you know what he wants?”
He shrugged. “Don’t most children?”
“They grow up fine without them,” she said.
“That may be, but that doesn’t keep you from wanting to give them to him,” Sebastian said.
Hope shook her head. “You certainly were right about being pushy when you want something.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet. I’m going to show you what star treatment is like.” The limo pulled to a stop. Across the street was Central Park. “Starting now. Let’s give people in the restaurant their first look at the next star on Broadway.”
* * *
The restaurant was elegant and impressive. Immediately they were shown to a secluded candlelit table. The wine steward appeared after the waiter left with their food orders. Sebastian rattled off some French-sounding name of a wine to go with their filet mignon, which put a smile on the dour face of the steward. Hope bit her lip. Some star she was going to make.
“What’s the matter?” Sebastian asked.
Hope saw what could have been a wonderful evening come to a screeching halt. The pads of her fingers stroked the white orchid on the table.
“Hope?” Sebastian reached across the table and covered her hand with his. She started, her gaze coming up to meet his. “If you’re worried about Margot, don’t.”
“Actually, I have a more immediate problem.” The heat of his hand was amazing and disturbing. Despite this, she felt her uneasiness increase. She’d never had this much difficulty before. Bridgett was right. Tonight did mean a great deal to her.
“What is it?”
Before she could answer, the wine steward reappeared, filled their glasses, placed the bottle in the cooler, then left. Hope pulled her hand back and watched Sebastian pick up his glass. He’d expect her to do the same. It was now or never.
“I’ve never developed a taste for wine. Especially dry red ones. Whites are a little better, but not much. The only one I found so far that I liked is a sweet white dessert wine one of Bridgett’s friends sent her from a winery in California.”
She held his gaze with difficulty. Now he’d think her gauche and probably take her home immediately. The school principal certainly had been miffed. Then she hadn’t cared. Now she cared too much.
Sebastian set his wine down. “The fault is mine, not yours, Hope. I should have asked. I want you to enjoy yourself this evening, to be comfortable with me.” Leaning across the table, he tipped her chin up with a long, tapered finger. “My first wine was Ripple. How’s that for astute evaluation of bouquet and taste?”
Hope laughed.
His eyes darkened. “I like the sound of that.”
She felt her cheeks heat. Without meaning to, she fluttered her eyelashes. Then flushed again. Goodness. She hadn’t flirted since high school.
“What would you like to drink?”
“Iced tea.”
He held up his hand and instantly a waiter appeared. “Please, take this away and bring two iced teas instead.”
“Certainly, sir.”
“See how easy that was?”
“Only because it was you,” she told him.
“Probably.” He glanced around the posh room. “The staff here is trained to cater to the whims of the rich and influential. To keep a straight face no matter what is asked of them.”
“What about when they go in the back?”
Sebastian paused in answering as the waiter served their salad and tea. “Truth be known, I’ve never really thought about it and neither should you. Choosing the right wine isn’t the most important thing in life. Raising a happy, well-adjusted child is infinitely more important and difficult,” he said. “If I or the average person had to chose which one they’d value the most, it would be the child. You’ve done yourself proud. Jeremy is a wonderful little boy who shows every indication of growing into an intelligent, sensitive, and caring man.”
“Thank you,” she said. “He’s my world. I want so much for him.”
“I understand. That’s why I’m going to talk you into playing Eleanor so you can show him more of it,” he said, reaching for a dinner roll.
Laughing, Hope picked up her salad fork. “You never give up, do you?”
“Not when it’s important.” Sebastian broke his roll, but his gaze remained on Hope. “Make no mistake. You’re under siege.”
Her eyes widened. Her hand shook so badly she laid her fork aside. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”
His slow, knowing grin curled her toes. “You will.”