Amber and Joey saw their uncle’s car and took off like jackrabbits. Are they up there?”
Serena keyed her walkie-talkie. “We got ‘em, Ginger. Don’t leave your class. They’re fine.”
“Tell those two rapscallions we’re going to have a little talk tomorrow.”
“Ten-four.”
Amber ducked her head and looked at her uncle from beneath her lashes. With her arms behind her back, she said, “I’m sorry, Uncle Trenton.”
Melodie took the moment to retrieve the mat and place it on the stack against the wall. The damage was done so there was no sense hiding any longer. As she walked back to the center of the room, she watched Trenton bend down on one knee and chuck the little girl under the chin.
“Don’t tell me you’re sorry, you little imp. Tell Miss Ginger.”
“I will. ‘Morrow.”
“Tomorrow, then.” He turned to Joey. “And you, young man—”
Joey’s expression fell. “I’m sorry, too.”
He pulled the boy into a short, fierce hug. “This is hardly the end of the world, guys. It’s only that the school is so big, you can’t just go running off.”
“I know, Uncle Trenton. I’ll apologize after Amber.”
“Good enough. Now, who wants to go with me to Kidstravaganza?”
Melodie rolled her eyes, thinking he might as well have asked who wanted to meet Mickey Mouse. Amber and Joey went into hyperactive mode, jumping and screaming enough to hurt her ears.
Amber suddenly stopped and turned her head from Uncle Trenton to Melodie and back again. “Can Miss Melodie go?”
“Oh, no, honey—” Melodie tried to break in.
“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.
