If You Want Me (8 page)

Alice hadn’t heard their entire argument, but she’d had the distinct feeling that it wasn’t altogether work-related. If at all. The brief snippets she’d heard, and the intensity of the exchange, had made her wonder if Tanisha and Willie were involved. Was that why he had walked out on her and the theater, because of a lover’s spat?

“I’ll be honest with you, Desirée—”

“Alice.”

“Whatever.”

Alice raised an eyebrow.

Tanisha ignored her and went on. “Look, Willie wanted more pay, and frankly, the theater’s struggling to stay afloat as it is. I don’t know what you expect, but I definitely can’t pay you anything near the kind of money you earn on one of your films or TV shows.”

Alice chuckled softly. “I didn’t think so, and I wouldn’t expect that kind of payment. In fact, I don’t expect anything at all.”

“I have to pay you.”

“Consider it a favor.” For Mia, not for her.

Tanisha shook her head, dismissing the offer. “No, I’ll have to draw up a contract and present it to the other board members. We have to pay you something.”

“Then how about a dollar a week?”

Tanisha’s mouth nearly hit the desk. “You’re joking.”

“I don’t need the money, Tanisha. That’s not why I’m taking the job. I’m doing this for my niece.”

“If you’re sure…”

“I am.”

“All right. I’ll draw up the contract. I don’t think the board will object, not when we need all the money we can get. You can sign it later this week and officially start on Saturday.”

“Great.”

“Now, I’m going to send out some press releases to let the world know that you’re the new teacher. I’d also like to schedule a press conference. The media will no doubt be interested in this. Do you think you can be available sometime, answer questions for the media?”

“Just tell me when.”

“This is great.” Tanisha’s lips curled in a smile. “I can capitalize on the fact that you used to take classes here, and how you went on to great success. With a name like yours attached to the theater, maybe we can finally get some big corporate sponsors.”

Tanisha was tactless, but Alice wasn’t offended. She understood that the theater was struggling to survive, and she would do what she could to help out. For Mia. And for herself, she acknowledged. Because this place brought back so many happy memories. Besides, she would need something to occupy her thoughts while she stayed in Chicago.

And that, she just realized, was what she’d committed to doing. At least until the summer.

Alice glanced around the office. Framed pictures lined the walls. Pictures of children posing for the camera. Candid shots of children performing on stage. There was a picture of Tanisha with a group of children, her arms spread wide around them. A picture of Tanisha and Marcus.

Alice’s stomach clenched at the sight. Marcus stood beside Tanisha, his arm snaked around her waist, and they were both smiling brightly for the camera. In one hand, Tanisha held some type of plaque.

It shouldn’t disturb her. Hadn’t she had years to get over Marcus’s marriage to Tanisha? Still, Alice wrenched her gaze away from the photo and turned her attention to the other side of the office, where she perused the pictures on that wall. Unlike the left wall, which boasted color pictures, this side had several black and white photos. More candid and posed shots.

And, she realized with surprise, a picture of herself.

Alice got up and strolled over to the picture. She hardly recognized her image, though she remembered exactly when the photo had been taken. It was the summer before her father had died, and in the picture, she was standing beside that year’s teacher, Mrs. Stoffman. The picture had been taken at one of the rehearsals for the play they were doing that summer, and they were both smiling from ear to ear.

A smile touched her lips at the memory. She’d loved Mrs. Stoffman, who had been the teacher for three of the four years she’d taken classes at the theater. Mr. Noble had replaced her in Alice’s last year of classes, and it had been he who’d given her that horrible role in the play from hell. Thank God that had been her last experience at the Bartlett Theater, rather than her first. She may well have given up acting if that had been the case.

But while the memory of the picture with Mrs. Stoffman was pleasant, the image she saw of herself
was not. She found it difficult to look at the way she had been, because it made her remember things she wanted to forget. The awful names she’d been called by her classmates, like “Miss Piggy,” and “Tub of Lard.” She remembered the horrible jokes.

“Hey, Alice. How many people does it take to roll you out of bed in the morning?”

“About ten sumo wrestlers!” Ha ha ha ha.

“What’s it like rolling around in the mud, Alice? That’s what pigs do, right?”

Bile, pungent and bitter, rose in her throat at the memories. She tried to block them from her mind the way she had done for years. She had learned to forget as a way to survive. But the truth was, in the years since she had left Chicago, she hadn’t truly forgotten, nor left the pain behind. The constant jeers had haunted her as she’d worked damn hard to shed her body’s extra pounds and change her image.

“Desirée?”

“Hmm?”

“I asked if there’s anything you’ll need for the class? Props, reading material, et cetera.”

“Oh.” Alice swallowed, hoping to dislodge the painful lump in her throat. “No, I don’t think so. You said you had some ideas for the summer play.”

“Yes. We’ve got several books of children’s plays.”

“I’ll take as many as you have to lend me.” God, she couldn’t believe she was actually going to do this.

Standing, Tanisha went to the bookshelf behind her desk and removed two thick volumes. “These are new so they should have fresh material.” She
passed the books to Alice. “I do appreciate you helping the theater out of this bind.”

That was probably the nicest thing Tanisha had ever said to her, but Alice wasn’t naïve enough to believe Tanisha was truly grateful to her. She was grateful to Desirée, whose reputation as a star she hoped would attract attention—and money—to the theater.

She needed to get out of here. “I’ll go through these, see what I like.” Pushing her chair back, she stood. “I’ve got to get back to my mother.”

“Yes, Marcus told me. I hope she’ll be okay.”

“Thanks.” Alice walked toward the door. She couldn’t help wondering how close a relationship Marcus and Tanisha still had. Were they like some divorced couples who remained close despite their separation? Why did they divorce? Whose decision had it been? And…was Marcus still in love with his ex-wife?

She didn’t want to think about that.

“I’ll call you about the press conference.”

“You do that.”

Alice turned on her heel and headed out the office, wondering what the hell she’d just gotten herself into.

“Come on, man. One more.”

Grunting from the effort, Marcus lowered the bench press to his chest, then forced himself to do one more repetition. “All right,” he managed to say between clenched teeth.

Khalil reached for the bench press and helped guide it into its cradle. Marcus’s arms burned, and as he lay back, he stretched them to ease the ache in his muscles.

“That was great, man,” Khalil told him. “Three hundred pounds.”

Marcus sat up and rested his elbows on his knees as he caught his breath. He’d been pushing himself hard lately, adding more and more weight to the bench press. Normally, he was content with 225 pounds; that kept his arms trim and powerful. But the extra pounds had served to relieve stress.

“All right, spot me.”

Marcus heaved himself off the bench and let Khalil take his place. He was taller than Khalil by a good two inches, but Khalil had a larger frame. He looked like he could be a linebacker.

“How much weight you want on here?” Marcus asked him, moving to the back of the bench to spot Khalil.

“Add a hundred pounds.”

Like him, Khalil had been testing his own limit lately by adding more and more weight. The two had always competed to see who had more testosterone. “You sure you can handle that,” he joked.

“Put it on. I haven’t got all day.”

Marcus spotted Khalil as he bench-pressed four hundred pounds ten times. By the end, he was groaning loudly, and Marcus held a hand under the bar, just in case Khalil needed extra help. It took a major effort to lift the bar the last time, but Khalil did it slowly but surely.

Sitting up, Khalil’s eyes roamed the gym. They worked out every weekend at a gym near Navy Pier come hell or high water. While Marcus enjoyed getting a good workout, he knew that Khalil enjoyed the added perks the gym offered—namely the women.

Now, his eyes followed an attractive dark-skinned woman with a knockout body.

“Which machine do you want to head to next?” Marcus asked.

“Gimme a second, hmm? A guy needs to stop and refuel.”

“Seems to me you spend most of your time ‘refueling.’”

Khalil looked up at him and grinned. “Isn’t that
an inalienable right? Life, liberty, and the pursuit of hot bodies?”

Marcus chuckled. Khalil was pushing forty, had never been married, and seemed content to spend the rest of his days as a player. If that was his choice, he respected that.

“There’s more to life than women, man.”

“Yeah?” Khalil’s face twisted with skepticism. “Like what?”

“Like good friends,” Marcus replied, his tone syrupy.

“You sound like a damn Hallmark card. I told you you need to find a woman. Damn, look at her. Mmm mmm mmm. Isn’t she fine?”

Marcus’s eyes followed Khalil’s gaze to another ebony beauty. He shrugged. “Yeah, she’s fine.”

“Don’t sound so excited.”

“It takes more than just a pretty face to get me excited these days,” Marcus told him.

Khalil stood. “You’re scaring me.”

“You’re forgetting I was married to your sister.”

“Touché.”

Marcus had known Khalil for fifteen years, had worked on the Chicago police department with him for twelve. He knew him well enough to talk candidly about his failed marriage to his sister. Unlike some people who would take their family member’s side in a divorce, Khalil had examined the facts with an open mind. Where Tanisha was concerned, he didn’t sugarcoat her behavior or try to justify it.

Together they walked to the water fountain. Marcus loved a beautiful woman as much as the next guy, but he wasn’t in the mood for a relationship
these days. Nor a casual fling. He’d already made a couple big mistakes by falling for pretty women and he didn’t plan to make another.

As boring or clichéed as it sounded, he was concentrating on his career. He hoped in the next year to move from being a beat cop to working in drug enforcement. If it weren’t for that whole mess with Melissa Reynolds, he’d no doubt already be working in DEA. He’d gotten involved with Melissa, a woman he was supposed to protect from her crazy estranged husband, and now she was dead. His lapse in judgment had cost a woman her life and had gotten him reprimanded at his precinct. Now he had to prove himself again.

When Khalil moved from the fountain, Marcus bent over it and drank several mouthfuls of water.

“Speaking of Tanisha,” Khalil began, “she tells me Desirée is in town.”

“Yep.”

“You’ve seen her?”

“I ran into her at the theater.”

“Does she look as hot in person as she does on film?”

Marcus gave him a look.

“Hey, it’s my curious nature, man. So, is she?”

“Alice definitely looks hot.” Knockout figure, full hips, sweet kissable lips, and the best breasts he’d ever seen. Marcus still had a hard time believing her drastic image change. But he suddenly realized that what he had a harder time with was the fact that he suddenly found her sexually attractive in a way he hadn’t before. Before, they’d been strictly friends.

But with her fame, fortune, and good looks, Alice had become a different person.

More proof that just because a woman was beautiful didn’t mean she was attractive in the way that mattered most.

When Tanisha had called Marcus yesterday and asked him if he could help out at the theater Saturday afternoon, he had said yes, like he usually did. He helped out for the kids, because he wanted to provide a positive role model for them. As a cop, he knew how important it was to keep children occupied in extracurricular activities to prevent them from being tempted by the lure of the streets. But as he pulled up in front of the theater early that afternoon, he was stunned to see the parking lot so jam-packed with cars he couldn’t even get a space. He parked behind a van on the street. Only when he got out of his Mustang and began walking toward the theater did he realize that the van belonged to a local television station. So did two more across the street.

What was going on?

He took the steps to the theater’s double doors two at a time and opened the heavy door.

He hardly recognized the place. It was crammed with people. There were definitely more parents and children here than there had ever been, and as he scanned the object of the various television camera spotlights, he suddenly knew why.

Desirée LaCroix stood on the stage before a throng of reporters while parents and children packed the theater seats, watching her.

As Marcus made his way down the aisle, he couldn’t quite swallow his annoyance. The place was a media circus. There Desirée was, basking in
the spotlight as she chatted onstage before numerous cameras, when this theater was supposed to be about the kids.

You could take the star out of Hollywood…

Christ.

Tanisha stood at the foot of the stage, watching the whole spectacle. Marcus strolled to her side. “Tanisha, what’s going on?”

“Hey, Marcus.” She flashed him a bright smile. “Isn’t this great? I sent out a few press releases announcing that Desirée would be teaching the class, and look at all the interest in the theater. There are even more parents here to sign their children up for classes.”

Marcus felt a modicum of guilt that he’d immediately blamed Alice for soaking up the attention. He should have known Tanisha was behind this show. And he couldn’t entirely blame her for doing what she could to garner attention for the theater. It badly needed funding.

“…at least until midsummer,” Alice was saying when Marcus turned his attention to her.

“Ms. LaCroix, we understand you have roots in Chicago. Is that true?” one reporter asked.

“Yes, I do.” Alice smiled cheerfully, as though she’d loved this city. But Marcus knew better. She couldn’t wait to get the hell out of Dodge. “I was born and raised here in Chicago.”

“I understand you studied drama at this very same theater. Is that why you’ve decided to come back here and work?”

Alice didn’t even blink as the flash from various cameras went off in her face. “Yes, that’s part of the reason.”

“Is there any truth to the recent story that you propositioned Sebastian Charles for sex and when he turned you down, you became obsessed with him?” another reporter asked. “Is that why you’ve returned to Chicago—because your career in Hollywood is on the rocks?”

Alice’s smile faded and a muscle in her jaw twitched. “That is categorically untrue. My relationship with Mr. Charles was never anything but professional.” Her eyes scanned the group of reporters. “Thank you for your time.”

“Ms. LaCroix—”

“One more question—”

“I wish I had more time, but the reason I’m here is to teach the children, and they’ve been patiently waiting. Once again, thank you.”

She was polite yet diplomatic, and Marcus was proud of the way she’d handled herself.

Alice stepped from the podium as photographers and cameramen continued to catch footage of her. She strolled to stage right and descended the stairs. Tanisha walked over to her and Marcus trailed behind her.

“No, Tanisha,” Marcus heard Alice say when he neared them. “I’d prefer that they leave now. This has already been enough of a circus, and I don’t want this to be about me. This is about the children.”

“They’re going to want to get some shots of you working with the students,” Tanisha told her.

“Then why don’t we do that now so they can leave and we can get down to business.”

“She has a point,” Marcus said from behind Tanisha.

Alice’s gaze flew to his. He saw surprise there—
clearly, she hadn’t expected to see him here. But after a second, she offered him a faint smile.

Tanisha whirled around and faced Marcus. “You don’t understand. This is exactly the type of attention the theater needs. With Desirée teaching the children, just think of the type of corporate sponsors we can attract.”

“There’s a fine line between attention and exploitation.”

“Tanisha, please tell them they have a few more minutes to get whatever they need.” Alice sounded impatient. “This has already taken up too much time.”

“Fine,” Tanisha snapped, then walked off toward a reporter and her cameraman.

Marcus stared at Alice as she shook her head and placed a hand on her hip. He had expected her to lap up the attention, but perhaps he had judged her too quickly.

“What?” she asked, when she realized he was staring. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No.” Marcus’s eyes lingered over her oval-shaped face, her high cheekbones and full, sexy lips, her perfectly arched eyebrows. Her raven-colored hair that fell in soft waves around her shoulders. Damn if she wasn’t one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen.

“Then why are you staring at me like that? Did I make a fool of myself up there?”

Marcus glanced away, once again uncomfortable with the thought of Alice as a sex symbol, rather than the friend he’d had so many years ago. It seemed inherently wrong to be checking her out the way he was.

“You sounded great up there. I think you handled the last question very well.”

“I didn’t expect that, but I guess I should have.”

There was still a vulnerable quality to her, one he hadn’t noticed before. In some ways, he could still see his old friend, the one who’d needed his protection, needed him.

For one thing, the question about her being obsessed with that director had truly startled her. He would have expected an actress not to falter at all and show nothing but the cool and confident façade. But although she had quickly recovered, she’d been mortified for a second.

She’d been like that years ago. When other students picked on her, pain would flash in her eyes for a moment before she tried to hide the emotion.

As much as it had disturbed him to notice her the way a man notices a woman, he couldn’t prevent his eyes from moving lower. Today she wore black leggings that hugged the curves of her hips and thighs and a cream-colored knit top that hugged her large breasts. Thank God she wore a black blazer over the ensemble, or she’d look like a walking, talking vixen. He was sure at least some of the parents wouldn’t appreciate that image in their child’s drama teacher.

Hell, who was he kidding? It was him who had a problem with the image, not anyone else.

“I better get started,” she said, interrupting his thoughts.

“Sure.”

She glanced at him nervously, then scooted past him toward the children and their parents.

As Alice walked past Marcus, she couldn’t help feeling flustered. Her face was hot; her thoughts were scattered. For a brief moment, she didn’t remember why she was even here.

She hadn’t expected to see Marcus staring at her the way he had been. There was no doubt about it—he was checking her out. For three years in high school she had dreamed Marcus would one day look at her like that, but he never had.

Until now.

He was still so incredibly handsome, and his lazy gaze roaming over her had definitely made her body tingle in a way it hadn’t quite tingled before. But it had also disturbed her. Who was he seeing when he looked at her with that hot, lazy gaze—sexy vixen Desirée LaCroix or his old friend Alice Watson?

She was still the same person she’d always been, so in a way it hurt to know that he now found her desirable, simply because she’d shed some pounds. It didn’t quite make sense to feel hurt, she knew, but in her jumbled thoughts, all she could think was why wasn’t she good enough before?

She turned and looked back at him. He wasn’t looking at her. Her heart dropped a notch with disappointment.

Make up your mind,
she told herself.
You can’t have it both ways.
How could she want Marcus to check her out but not want him to check her out?

“All right, everyone,” she said, forcing Marcus from her mind. “Last week I didn’t really get the chance to know you all, so that’s how we’ll start the day. Though there are considerably more people here this week.”

“Who wasn’t here last week?”

Alice’s head whipped to her right at the sound of Marcus’s deep, sexy voice. How had she not sensed his approach?

Several children raised their hands in response to Marcus’s question.

“You all come with me,” he told them. “You need to register before you can take the class, and I’ll be taking all your information and answering your questions.” He glanced at Alice and smiled. “We’ll be working together.”