An Act of Love (15 page)

"New Hampshire?" Randy looked at Linda as if her sister
were playing with half a deck. "I was never in New Hampshire."

"Dad doesn't think so. Lake doesn't think so. Luke thinks
you're—what was the phrase? A chubby vestal virgin? You've
already gained back some weight, and by the time you see him
again…" Linda studied her sister thoughtfully. "A new
hairstyle, a few inches taller with heels on, glamorous clothing and
sophisticated makeup—you know how alike we look. Luke wasn't
the first person to confuse us, especially when they haven't seen us
for a while. He's never met me—all he's seen is that photo on
Dad's desk, which looks as much like you do
now
as it does like I do. So the next time you meet he's going to think
it's for the first time."

"You're in the wrong business," Roger drawled. "I'm going
to hire you to do a script for me."

Randy was gazing at her sister in amazement. What kind of
mind could dream up something so devious? "Do you think it could work?
Really?"

"With your talent as an actress? Are you kidding?" Linda
winked at Randy. "If you can convince people that you're a Yugoslavian
princess you can convince Luke that you've never met. After all, he had
incontrovertible proof of it. He made love to 'Linda,' but Miranda is
the only twenty-four-year-old virgin in Hollywood."

Randy knew her sister had a point. "And how am I supposed
to act?"

"Innocent, of course. Younger and still annoyed over that
phone call. Also unattainable, unimpressed and strictly business.
Where's your spirit, Randy? You aren't going to turn down the best role
of your life, are you?"

"I just don't know. When he finds out what I've done he'll
be furious. And suppose I really fall in love with him? I don't want to
lose him by playing games. He may never speak to me again."

"Randy, darling, from what you've told us Luke Griffin is
probably half in love with you already. Take care of the present and
the future will take care of itself."

Randy had her doubts about Linda's analysis of the
situation, but the actress in her couldn't resist the challenge of
pretending to Luke that they'd never met. And the woman in her grabbed at the chance to create some
time in which to discover her feelings, to get to know Luke under more
normal circumstances, to find out whether he could love her without
exposing her own emotions so totally.

As soon as Randy agreed Linda called up her favorite
hairdresser, flattering and cajoling for a full five minutes before he
agreed to squeeze Randy into his schedule. Later, as she watched six
inches of beautiful blond hair waft gently to the floor, she felt total
dismay. But by the time she left she was actually rather pleased. Her
shoulder-length hair fell in deep waves now, with the bangs and sides
gently feathered back from her face. Looking in the mirror she even
believed she could pull things off.

When they returned to the house Roger took one look and
agreed. With the right clothing and makeup and some skillful acting it
could work. Then he suggested to the two sisters that the three of them
go to Martha's Vineyard for a few days. "You need some R & R
after your supposed vacation," he said to Randy when she hesitated. "I
have a cousin with a summer place near Edgartown who we can sponge off
of. I have to work this weekend, so on Friday I'll drive you back to
New York in the Lincoln and leave Lin the Porsche. I can pick it up
next time I come up to see her."

It didn't take too much longer for Randy to admit that she
loved the beach and could use a few days to get her equilibrium back.
They left after a quick dinner, Linda and Roger in the Porsche and
Randy in the Lincoln. Roger Bennett, it seemed, had friends everywhere.
They spent the night at the home of a show business acquaintance of his
who was not at all surprised that Roger would appear on his doorstep
late at night accompanied by two beautiful women. "I would have called,
Hal," he apologized, "but I didn't have your number with me. And since
it's unlisted…"

"No problem." Hal—Roger's introduction didn't
include a last name—immediately ushered them toward some
vacant bedrooms, pausing only to ascertain the sleeping arrangements.
"Do you sleep with both of them at the same time, Rog? Or will you need
two rooms?"

Roger laughed and answered, "No, no, Hal. Those were the
Green twins, Jade and Emerald. I go out with Linda, but her sister
Randy is involved with someone else, so leave her alone."

This exchange left Randy a little puzzled and mildly
shocked. The look on her face must have been transparent, because Roger
hastened to assure her, "It's an old joke, Randy. Years ago I dated
twin sisters, but never at the same time."

Hal's home was only a fifteen-minute drive from the Woods
Hole ferry to Martha's Vineyard. They took the morning boat, leaving
the Lincoln in Hal's driveway and taking the Porsche onto the island
with them. They arrived at his cousin's cottage to find the place
deserted and the doors locked up. Roger simply walked off toward some
bushes at the side of the house, fished around in the dirt and returned
with the key.

"Are you sure your cousin won't mind?" Randy asked.

"Why should she? She uses my place on Fire Island all the
time. Once she nearly burned it down."

They passed through a screened-in porch containing
battered deck chairs and several cots before entering the cottage
itself. Although the bedrooms and living room were furnished in early
garage sale the place looked spotless and comfortable. Randy
immediately staked a claim to one of the cots on the porch; she loved
to sleep in the open air as long as she had enough blankets.

She lost no time in slithering into a bikini, grabbing a
towel, book and suntan lotion and trotting down to a sparsely-populated
beach some twenty feet from the house. The day was sunlit and
sparkling. While she sunbathed Roger and Linda went into town to shop
for groceries; they joined her on the beach a few hours later with a
picnic lunch for three.

Over the next few days Randy braved the chilly water for
frequent swims, lazed on the beach for hours, took long walks along the
shore, went sailing with Roger and consumed an inordinate amount of
shellfish. By Friday morning, due in no small measure to Linda and
Roger's sympathetic, upbeat company, she was far more relaxed, more
accepting of the past and optimistic about the future.

They took the morning ferry to the mainland and drove
straight to Hal's house to pick up the Lincoln. The goodbyes between
the two sisters were full of warmth and teasing. "I want to hear a
blow-by-blow description of everything that happens with that Luke of
yours," Linda instructed as she and Randy embraced. "Call
me—or I'll call you."

Randy agreed, then waited in the car while Roger and Linda
said goodbye. Their kiss was so passionate that she half expected them
to send her back to New York on her own, but Roger laughingly
disentangled Linda's wandering hands from his body, gave her a sharp
slap on her bottom and sent her off toward the Porsche.

At Roger's midtown office Randy took the wheel, leaning
out the window to thank him and kiss him goodbye. When she showed up at
her parents' door laden with shopping bags Emily wondered aloud just
how her daughter had found the time to buy so much, but accepted
Randy's answer that in a few hours with Linda one could accomplish more
than in a few days on one's own.

It was just about the only true statement that the Dunnes
would hear about their daughter's vacation. That night, while watching
a display of Fourth of July fireworks with them, Randy fabricated a
complete account of her stay in New Hampshire, including appropriate
minor misadventures to explain away a lingering scratch or two. Even
her father had to admit that she looked wonderful with her suntan, new
hairstyle and extra ten pounds, although he still believed that anyone
who would voluntarily spend two weeks without indoor plumbing was daft.

On Monday morning Randy flew back to Los Angeles and
stayed through the following weekend. She had absolutely no problem
finding someone to take her place in the apartment—reasonable
housing was a scarce commodity. She spent the rest of her time saying
goodbye to friends and going to a party or two. In the process she ran
into Sean Raley. She couldn't deny that she experienced a little pang
of hurt when they said hello, or that she still found him attractive,
but her feelings were tepid and easily dismissed. She could hardly fail
to notice that the woman he left with wasn't his wife, and decided that
she was lucky. It wasn't much fun to be dumped, but it ultimately would
have been far worse not to be.

Luke Griffin didn't care for surprises. The more he
thought about it, however, the more he wondered whether he was in for
one of the most unpleasant surprises of his life when Miranda Dunne
walked into the executive offices of C & D on Tuesday
afternoon. Could the woman in Maine possibly have been Miranda? True,
she'd been anything but a neophyte in the bedroom, but then, the gossip
he'd heard about Miranda's exemplary virtue could have been much
mistaken. The personality of the woman he'd known in Maine hadn't
meshed with his image of Linda Franck, but it hadn't meshed with his
image of her sister, either.

The week after Luke got back he was summoned into Bill
Dunne's office to discuss a routine piece of business and he stayed to
answer a vague but nonetheless crystal-clear question about how
"things" were going. "I talked to Linda the weekend before last," he
replied. "I don't think there'll be any further problems." He didn't
add that a brief conversation with his brother-in-law had confirmed
Linda's version of their "affair". Tom had sounded almost petulant
about it, complaining that Linda Franck had only been interested in
"acting like a damn therapist".

"I suggested to my sister that she and Tom see a marriage
counselor," he continued, "but she wasn't too receptive. Right now
she's blaming Tom for everything, but in time…" He shrugged.
"If she has any sense she'll reconsider."

Bill nodded, saying that he hoped things would work out,
and reached for a folder in his "in" basket. Luke could see that he was
busy, but decided to stick around for one more question.

"By the way, Bill, I've been giving some thought to where
to begin with Randy, and I don't intend to be easy on her. I want her
to be challenged. I'm assuming," he drawled with a smile, "that she's
well rested after a couple of weeks in New Hampshire?"

"So it would seem," Bill answered. "She gained back some
of the weight she lost—she was dieting for some blasted movie
role—and she got herself a healthy-looking suntan. She'll be
back from L.A. next Monday…"

"And in the office Tuesday afternoon," Luke finished.
"I'll see you then, if not before."

She'd lost weight
? he thought
uneasily as he walked out the door. He didn't like the sound of that.
As he passed by Pat O'Donnell's desk it occurred to him that Bill's
secretary might be able to provide enough information to help him
figure out just who he'd been with in Maine. Pat was surprised by his
invitation to join him for lunch the following afternoon, but accepted
nonetheless.

Luke was aware that Pat O'Donnell was a no-nonsense,
straightforward lady with total loyalty to her boss. Obviously he
couldn't tell her what was
really
on his mind, so
he'd need to come up with a plausible substitute.

As soon as they'd ordered their meals the next day he came
straight to the supposed point. "You've known Randy Dunne for a long
time," he remarked.

"Nineteen years," Pat agreed.

"I'll be frank with you, Pat," Luke said. "I want to know
what I'm going to have to deal with for the next month or two, and Bill
is obviously the wrong person to ask. He thinks his younger daughter is
a total angel."

Pat took a sip of her cocktail, regarding Luke with a
measured gaze. "What gives you the idea she's not?" she asked.

"Other than the fact that nobody could be that perfect?"
Luke contrived to sound charmingly nonchalant about the whole topic.
"Nobody could be around C & D for very long without being aware
that a lot of employees of this company were disappointed when Randy
Dunne ran off to California two years ago. Now she's apparently changed
her mind about what she wants to do with her life, and common sense
tells me that she'll resent the fact that in the meantime someone from
outside the family has moved in and gotten himself the inside track on
the presidency."

Pat shook her head. "Not Randy. She's not the type of
person who expects to have things handed to her on a silver platter. If
she's interested in running the company some day she'll expect to earn
the right to be considered." She paused. "Frankly, Luke, I find almost
nothing to criticize about—"

"
Almost
nothing?" Luke interrupted.
"Why
almost
?"

"She's learned too well from her sister's mistakes." Pat
hesitated, trying to decide whether to explain, and apparently came up
with a negative answer. "It's really none of your business, Luke."

He used his most persuasive smile on her. "But you're
going to tell me anyway?" he suggested.

"Don't try that with me, Luke Griffin. Unless you have a
personal interest…"

"I might." Luke winked at her, determined to get around
her scruples. "
Bill
thinks I should."

"Bill trusts you too far. Randy is too young for
you—not in your league at all," Pat said firmly.

"After two years in Hollywood? I find that impossible to
believe."

His skepticism succeeded where charm had not. "All right
then. Obviously you asked me to lunch to pump me on exactly this
subject, and I suppose there's no real reason why I can't satisfy some
of your curiosity. People wonder why Linda and Randy are so different,
and I think there are some very important reasons beyond their basic
personality differences. Linda…"