Bedeviled Angel (22 page)

Melody wore a navy silk nautical pants suit from the thirties and looked as delicious as any of the iced confections on her tiered silver serving tray.

She baked Gloucester Blueberry Cake, Vermont Pumpkin Cake, and Connecticut Dabs. To top it off, she served every kind of tea imaginable, from spiced full leaf, to organic loose tea, to modern herbal tea bags.

Logan noticed that she hadn't quite made love to the cameras this week, so the two of them hadn't been as much in tune during the show, probably because she hated the sexual innuendo in the press. But as she sipped her tea during the final roll of the cameras, Logan managed to snare her gaze, over the rim of her cup. Saucy, he thought. Stormy. Sinful. Seductive. He wanted to take her to bed, carry her off the stage while everybody watched and screw them all. Screw her most of all.

"I wonder where your mind is?" Tiffany said at his shoulder, startling him and drawing his focus from Melody.

Logan tried not to show his annoyance. He thought he might have managed a smile. "Tiffany. Good show, wasn't it?" He looked back at the set.

Tiffany touched his jaw and turned his face toward her, capturing his gaze. "Don't forget our date tonight." She let the words settle while Logan raised a brow. "The dinner show at the Wang? You remember, a local group is putting on
The Witchling
for charity. You told me weeks ago that you'd come."

Ah, the phantom date. Logan was so disconcerted by Peabody's beaming approval, from across the room, that he didn't dare beg off. "What time should I pick you up?"

"Sixish?"

Did people say that? "I'll be there at quarter of."

Instead of going back to Daddy, as Logan hoped she would, Tiffany slipped her arm through his and gave him a smile filled with promise. Jeez, he thought, he hadn't said he'd sleep with her. He looked at her father to make sure the boss understood as much, but all Logan got was an approving smile. Son of a—

He tried to untangle his arms as he looked to see if Mel saw Tiffany get her claws into him, and though the audience milled about and the crew sampled her Boston Tea Party fare, it seemed as if Mel's broom had long since departed.

Aware that he should be glad Tiffany had made a move on him, Logan felt uncomfortable. God knew he'd been thinking about approaching her. She was a safer bet than Melody, though perhaps a bit too cozy. He should be looking forward to an evening with a reasonably stable, down-to-earth woman, instead of pining for a magical loose cannon.

Tiffany was a freaking poster child for home, hearth, family, stability. Forget that she chased him, "like a shark after blood," as Mel had so snidely phrased it, Tiffany appeared to be everything he should want. Calm. Organized. Orderly. No stopping traffic or rescuing kittens. No food fights, no food fires. No sparks or smoke of any kind. No chaos.

Tiffany would make a good mother. As a wife, she would be low maintenance, low disaster, low… sizzle. No sizzle.

Logan, the businessman, sighed, ignored his selfish tendencies, keyed into his years of retraining, and figured the equation again. After a serious minute of weighing the results of a wildfire, compared to good breeding and a degree in early childhood education, he nodded in satisfaction. Sizzle was overrated. Tiffany bore no resemblance to Melody, whatsoever, making the tote board heavy in Tiffany's favor.

LOGAN didn't know where Mel had disappeared to after the show, but she had not returned to their office. He sat there trying to call his mother to ask her to baby-sit, but she didn't pick up. He sure wished she'd carry the cell phone he'd given her.

Jess answered on the first ring. "Hey, Jess, how are you?"

"Running on fast forward, as usual. I love it."

"Too fast to watch Shane tonight?"

"Why, where are you going?"

"I have a date. You said I should start dating again."

"You're finally showing some sense. How is Mel?"

"Er, Mel's fine. Why?"

"Isn't she the one you're taking out?"

"I'm taking Tiffany Peabody to a charity benefit. Her father's the station owner.

So, can you sit?"

"I take back what I said. You're not showing any sense."

Logan regarded the phone as if it malfunctioned. "What did you say?"

"I'm working tonight." She hung up.

Logan sat staring at his phone until Melody returned to the office at the last minute before picking up Shane. In silence, she grabbed her purse and briefcase and walked back out. "We'll meet you in the car," she threw over her shoulder, almost as an afterthought.

Logan felt as if he'd missed something. He liked fetching Shane with her, but he supposed they shouldn't spend any more time in the elevator.

Ten minutes later, he pulled the Volvo up in front of the day care entrance and watched Melody, still silent and introspective, strap Shane into his seat, before getting in herself.

On the way home, Shane, his usual chatty self, gave them a blow-by-blow description of his day, thank God.

"Teacher cut Nathan's hair today," he said with a laugh.

Melody turned in her seat. "Teacher cut it?"

"Why?" Logan asked.

Shane did a double take, branding his father's question as pure stupid. " 'Cause Torrie got her gum stuck in it, of course." He may as well have started with, "Duh."

"Ouch," Mel said. "Poor Nathan."

"Aw, he acted like a big ole' baby, just 'cause he gots a bald spot."

Logan cleared his throat with a bit of difficulty. "Where exactly is his bald spot?"

"Where Torrie stuck her gum." Another unsaid, "duh" resonated in the air.

"Of course," Logan said. "But, I mean, where on his head?"

Shane made a big circle with his fingers and laid it dead center, above his forehead as he rolled his eyes. "Torrie had 'a mother of a gum wad,' teacher said."

Silence held for half a beat before Logan and Melody burst into laughter. When they calmed, Shane shook his head as if he would never understand them. "It's not that funny," he said. "Can we make caramel apples for Mel's Halloween show cookin' lesson tonight?"

"Supper tonight." Logan ran a hand over his face. "I knew I forgot something."

"Are we still gonna?" Shane asked. " 'Cause you promised, Dad. You said we gotta 'cause Mel needs lessons for the show, and we need a job."

"I'll manage," Melody said, turning to look at Shane. "It's okay, sweetheart. If you and your Dad have plans tonight, I'll make caramel apples with you tomorrow, okay?"

Logan glanced at Melody, then he faced his son, in his rearview mirror, his guilt intensifying. "I'm afraid I made other plans, sport."

Shane and Melody regarded him, Logan thought, with identically accusing looks, while the silence stretched so long, his tie got tight. If someone didn't cut the spell soon, he'd break into a sweat from the heat of their looks alone. "I have a dinner…

meeting."

"For work?" Melody asked.

"Well, not entirely. I've been invited to a dinner theater fund-raiser, with old man Peabody."

"And Tiffany," Melody said, her smile so eloquent, he wished he could deny it.

"You have a problem with that, Seabright?"

"Why should I? I have a date, too."

"Like hell you do."

Melody raised a brow.

"Until ten minutes ago, you thought we were cooking tonight."

"Obviously we're not, and since I turned Woody down for dinner, so we could, there's no longer any reason not to. I'll just call and tell him we're on."

"What about me?" Shane asked.

When Logan said nothing, Melody frowned. "Logan, who did you ask to watch Shane while you go out on this date?"

"It isn't a date, not really."

"Who?"

"Mel, listen—"

"Jess? Or your mother?"

"They're both busy tonight."

"So you were going to do what?"

"Ask if you would."

"Hooray!" Shane drummed his feet with enthusiasm. "We can make caramel popcorn, too."

"Wait a minute, buddy," Melody said. "Your dad hasn't asked me yet."

"Mel, can't you just—"

"What? Give up my love life for yours? Fat chance."

"Love life?" Logan scoffed. "With Woody?"

"You think that's more absurd than you and Daddy's girl? Is she out of college yet?"

"Look," Logan said as he pulled the car into their garage. "This isn't getting us anywhere. Peabody owns the station. I can't just break it off at the last minute, and you don't actually have a date. Please, Mel? It's for charity," Logan said as he came around to her side of the car. "You're always doing stuff for charity."

"What charity?"

"I forgot to ask."

"Hah. It's probably, Liposuction for the Alimony Challenged."

Logan almost smiled, Melody saw, before she noticed Shane, looking as if he thought neither of them wanted him. "Go get your pj's, buddy. We're doing a weekend sleepover." She poked Logan in the chest. "You can't have him back until Sunday. We have plans. We're going apple picking, then we have a pumpkin to decorate, and a costume to get."

"Yahoo!" Shane yelled as he raced for the house.

Damned kid wouldn't even miss him, Logan thought as he dressed for his date, a scant half hour later, the irritating sound of his son's laughter drifting up the stairs.

Why irritating? he wondered. Because he couldn't share it? Or because Melody could? Didn't matter. He'd only be one floor away most of the night, but still, why a sleep-over? Did Mel expect him to invite Tiffany for the night or something? Jeez.

MELODY tried not to let her anger at Logan show as she and Shane planned a fun and easy Halloween-type supper, similar to the one Logan had promised. Before they went up for Shane's things and changed into comfortable clothes, they filled a powder-free synthetic glove with lime punch, fastened the wrists with a twist-tie, and stood it in the freezer. They would cut the glove off the ice later and float the severed hand in a "bloody" cherry punch.

After they changed, she washed a medium-sized pumpkin. She'd gotten a recipe from a secretary at the station for stuffed pumpkin. It looked easy to make, and since Colette had brought a sample for lunch the other day, Melody knew it tasted delicious as well.

"All you have to do," Melody told Shane, after she cut the top off the pumpkin,

"is dig out the seeds and the stringy glop with a spoon. Think you can do that? Then we'll stuff the pumpkin with the meat and rice."

The skillet of sauteed ground beef, onion, garlic, sage, and thyme began to smell great around the time Melody's doorbell rang. "Good grief, who could be—Daddy?"

she said as she opened it.

"Gramma!" Shane called. He jumped from his chair and threw himself at Phyllis.

"What are you doing here?"

"Didn't Logan tell you he invited us?" Phyl Kilgarven asked Melody.

"Er, no, he didn't." Melody tucked her frizzing hair behind her ears and smoothed her stained apron, aware that, as usual, she must look a fright to her father. "He invited you for…"

"A preview taste of your Halloween dinner."

"Really?"