“Pleeaase, Uncle Trenton?”
“Honey, I can’t—”
“She read your letter and told me she was gonna call you about the video. You could talk while Joey and I play,” Amber suggested innocently, her eyes as wide as she could make them.
Trenton looked at her and Melodie felt her breath catch.
“Miss Allford?”
“Melodie, please. And really, I can’t. I’m hardly dressed—”
He arched an eyebrow, once again taking in her leggings—pigs and all. “Oh, I think you’d be right at home.”
Darn, and she thought he might not have noticed her attire in the momentary confusion. But as she thought about it, it was her turn to arch a brow. She perceived a challenge in his voice. She could always plead that she had a class to teach, but it would be a lie. And she never lied. She might not always volunteer the whole story, but she never lied.
“Be that as it may, I’m not—”
“Pleeaase, Miss Melodie. Please go with us. It’ll be tons of fun. Please say you’ll go.”
If she hadn’t looked into Amber’s eyes, she might have held her ground, but Melodie rarely stood a chance against a child’s plea or a puppy’s whine. Which was why she avoided pet shops at all costs…
“Oh, all right.”
She knew the effort to have a meeting would be futile. An indoor playground was hardly conducive to business discussions, but she decided Amber’s hug would make the wasted afternoon worthwhile.
“You know Terminator-1, don’t you, Miss Allford?” Trenton asked, ruffling Joey’s hair.
Joey shied out from under the offending hand, trying not to show he liked the gesture.
“And I’m T-2,” Amber piped up, grinning from ear to ear.
Melodie smiled. “Yes, Joey and I have met, and we get along pretty well. Even if he does think dance is for sissies.”
“Really, Joey? I like to dance.”
“That’s not the same, Uncle Trenton. You do real dancing.”
Trent chuckled as he slipped his suit jacket back on, snapping the lapels neatly into place. “I have a feeling that postadolescence will alter your conviction on the subject, but for now, let’s go. We don’t want to take any chances on them running out of pizza.”
Melodie felt another heart tug as Trenton hefted T-2 into his arms. She realized she was holding her breath, waiting for him to scold Amber for wrinkling his suit, and was pleasantly surprised when he didn’t even seem to notice. She glanced down to snap her hip pouch around her waist, thankful her ducked head would hide any revealing expression on her face.
Everyone said goodbye to Serena and moved to the parking lot. A wave of the late June heat rolled off the concrete and hit Melodie like a slap. She stopped in her tracks and heaved a disgusted sigh. She wiped at the sweat already forming on her forehead, betting herself a nickel Mr. Perfect would never be so crass as to perspire in public.
“Hey, Trent. You know that old saying, ‘It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity’?”
Trenton stopped as well, turning toward her. “Yes?”
“Baloney. It’s the heat.”
His laugh was another thing that took her by surprise. It was deep and mellow and wrapped comfortably around her like a soft blanket. She mentally shook her head. Scratch that simile. Make that a cool breeze.
“Would you like to go in one car? That is, if you can stand being in confined quarters with these two miniature whirlwinds.”
She declined politely. “I think I’ll follow. Thanks anyway.” She felt no need to explain to him that one of her rules was to never allow herself to be dependent on another person.
“Do you know where the establishment is?”
“They’re only running advertisements on the television every five minutes. Yes, I know where it is.”
“Good. Shall we meet there in…say, twenty minutes?”
She had the absurd urge to affect an English accent and say, “Right ho, old boy.” Instead, she said, “That sounds great.”
He stopped again and looked at her. “Miss Allford—”
For heaven’s sake, didn’t the man know how to loosen up? They were going to a playground and he was acting as if she were his teacher instead of Amber’s.
“Look, if you keep calling me Miss Allford, you’re going to regret it.”
A mocking smile played at the corner of his mouth. “That sounds vaguely threatening, Miss Allford.”
“There’s nothing vague about it at all, T.J.”
Trenton winced. “I concede the point. Melodie.”
She smiled as she turned, shrugging a shoulder at him. “Good. See you in a few.”
Melodie opened the door to her aging compact and let some of the blisteringly hot air dissipate. Not that it mattered much. Without air-conditioning, the car was always on the wrong side of miserable from June until October. But no use complaining about it. A new car was just going to have to wait until she paid off the new air conditioner she’d bought for the house, figuring driving in the heat was preferable to sleeping in it.
She felt a moment of envy as Trenton and the kids flashed by in a dark blue luxury car, windows rolled up tightly. Then she reminded herself that if the price of owning a nice vehicle was being like Mr. Stodgy, she didn’t want to pay it.
Of course, it was easier to be smug in December…
As they headed out of the parking lot, Melodie pushed away a fleeting wish that she could have changed into something a little less dramatic. But that was water under the bridge. Better to make the best of it and get this over with.
Trenton nodded as the quartet claimed a table in one of the large eating rooms. It appeared they had arrived at a most propitious time. The majority of the day-care groups were leaving, and the after-work crowd had yet to arrive as it was only four o’clock.
The ambiance was exactly as he had expected, which pleased Trenton. He didn’t like surprises.
Behind sound-reducing sheets of clear Plexiglas, parents and other nonparticipants could watch the fun being had on the giant plastic activity centers, each one a different, brilliant primary color.
What made Kidstravaganza unique was its policy of encouraging parents to play with their kids. Of the three sections, only one was designated exclusively for children. The other two were built on a larger scale—still inviting to small folk, but with tubes and entries large enough for an adult to join in.
Amber and Joey were almost beside themselves to go into the play area. Miss Allford…um, Melodie…looked decidedly less enthusiastic than the children, but he sensed mixed signals from her. He could swear that she would love to dive into the vat of plastic balls right behind the first child, so he assumed it was his presence that had her twisting the hem of her tie-dyed T-shirt with a purple-tinted fingernail. He noted absently that the ring finger of her left hand was bare, but he knew in this day and time that didn’t mean much.
He assured himself that his perusal for a wedding band was simply habit, for although Melodie was a beautiful woman, she was a little more…flamboyant than he was used to. He was still surprised at the evolution of his reactions to women over the past year. His criteria had changed into something