“For about the last six years.”
“Don’t you get tired of being in new places all the time? I mean, you don’t get to have your own stuff around. I’d die without my stereo.”
“You get used to it.”
Wendi thumbed through the catalogue. “Would you get another degree?”
She nodded. “My master’s.”
“School doesn’t start till September. What happens when you leave here?”
“There’s a nurses registry I’m listed with. The owner tells me about jobs and I pick the ones I might be interested in. Nothing’s been lined up yet, but there are always people looking for nurses. Actually, I might even take a couple of weeks off.” She hated the thought of leaving Wendi…and Logan. She would never be a member of the family, but that didn’t stop her dreaming and wishing. That was the main reason she didn’t have another assignment. Rather than admit their time together would end, she’d ignored all thoughts of the future.
“What about work?” Wendi asked. “Can you go to college and still stay in people’s homes?”
Melissa laughed. “That’s the exact problem I’m wrestling with, my dear. I have some money saved, so I could probably get by with a part-time nursing job. If I could afford not to work, I’d be done with school faster. It’s a tough call. I’m not sure what I’m going to do. Any suggestions?”
Wendi pulled her long hair into a ponytail, then let it fall across her back. “I’ll let you know.” She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Gosh, we’re missing the surprise. Come on.”
Melissa allowed herself to be pulled from the bed, then dragged down the hall and into Wendi’s room. A space on the floor had been cleared of clothes and shoes. The TV was on one of the daytime soaps. A tall, gorgeous couple was arguing about the appropriateness of telling his wife about their affair.
“Have a seat,” Wendi said, pointing to a spot in front of the bed. “We’ve just missed the beginning. Do you want a soda?”
“Sure.” As the girl ran out of the room, Melissa lowered herself to the ground. This was the surprise? Despite having spent the past six years inside people’s homes all day and night, she’d never developed a fondness for the soaps. Still, if Wendi wanted to share time together, she wasn’t about to object.
The scene on the show switched to a bedroom. The camera panned across bodies moving under satin sheets. Covers were thrown back, exposing one long, perfect leg. Melissa glanced down at her own thighs. She could do a hundred leg lifts a day; nothing would make her lower body look like the one on the screen.
“Oh, darling, that was so wonderful. You are the most incredible lover.” The woman’s voice was husky yet sweet, like rich chocolate rubbing against skin. A man’s back came into view. Not bad, Melissa thought. It wasn’t Logan but it was acceptable. He turned over and reached for the champagne bottle at the side of the bed. The camera zoomed in on the woman’s face. Melissa felt her lunch push back up against her throat. It was Fiona Phillips, Wendi’s mother…Logan’s ex-wife.
“Isn’t she great?” Wendi bounced back into the room and handed Melissa an icy can. “I don’t get to watch the show much.” She lowered her voice. “Dad doesn’t approve, but I like to see my mom work.”
Melissa shifted her gaze back to the beautiful woman. Hard to imagine anyone calling that creature “Mom.” With her wide-set eyes and the sculpted figure flashing through the skimpy lingerie, she seemed more of a Hollywood creation than a flesh-and-blood person.
“What do you think?” Wendi asked.
“You look a lot like her.”
“Really?” Wendi sighed with pleasure. “Thanks. I know I have her hair and eyes, but she’s so incredible. Whenever I go visit her, there are tons of flowers from all these guys. And you should see what she gets for her birthday.” Wendi gulped her drink. “Diamonds and furs. One year, the perfume company gave her a car. Wow. I want to be like that when I grow up.”
“There’s more to life than just being pretty,” Melissa said. And she should know. No one had ever fawned over her looks, not even once.
“I know, but wouldn’t it be great to be her?” Wendi leaned her head against Melissa’s shoulder. “She travels a lot with the show and the perfume ads. I wish…”
“What?” Melissa shifted her drink to her other hand and put her arm around the girl. “That she’d take you with her?”
“Oh, I know she can’t. At least, not now. She’s way too busy with filming and everything. When I’m older, I can go with her…she promised.” The last words came out wistfully, as though in the past, promises had been made and then broken.
Melissa kissed Wendi’s head and turned her attention to the show. Mercifully the scene had shifted again and she was no longer staring at the stunning woman. But just above the armoire holding the TV was the portrait.
What kind of woman are you? she asked silently. Don’t you know your daughter needs you? And what about Logan? Why aren’t you here with him, at his side, in his bed? But the haughty picture didn’t answer. Green eyes stared down as though asking who she was to make such judgments. She wasn’t part of the family, she was simply the hired help.
“Try keeping your legs straight. Then you won’t go in on your shins.”
Logan stared out the open French doors of his bedroom and watched Melissa help Wendi with her back flip. He was supposed to be resting, but the laughter and occasional screams had been impossible to resist.
A pink floppy hat settled low on Melissa’s ears and protected her nose from the sun. After almost a week of cool and cloudy weather, the temperature had soared into the nineties and showed no sign of relenting until October.
Wendi climbed back onto the diving board and assumed her position: butt to the water, arms out in front.
“You need more push when you lift off,” Melissa said.
Wendi scowled over her shoulder. “Excuse me, but have you ever done this before?”
“I’m insulted by your lack of faith.”
“That means no, right?”
Melissa laughed. “Well, I’ve thought about doing it, but you have to stop diving when you turn twenty-five. It’s the law in California.”
“You think you’re so clever.” Wendi apparently forgot she was on the board. She turned and started to put her hands on her hips, only there was no ground below her. Her arms wind-milled as she tried to regain her balance, but it was a matter of too little, too late. The wave from her crash lapped up against the patio furniture. Logan smiled as Melissa pulled his laughing daughter from the pool.
Patience wasn’t a natural trait, but he’d learned it over the years. Now his patience was about at its end. Ten days ago Melissa had taken off his bandages. Since then he’d had ten days of her acting exactly as he would have expected a nurse to act—if he hadn’t spent that first week with someone entirely different.
What had happened? Every time he convinced himself he’d only imagined her humor and spontaneity, he saw her with Wendi. There she joked up a storm. Together they teased and giggled until he felt about as necessary as a leper.
Wendi pulled her towel off the chair and wrapped it around herself. She glanced at the window. “Hi, Daddy. Come on and join us.”
Melissa turned in his direction, but the floppy hat hid her eyes from view. “Yes, do join us, Logan. I was just about to make a decision about dinner. What would you like?”
“Not chicken again,” Wendi said grimacing. “If I have it one more time this week, I’m going to grow feathers.”
Melissa laughed and pretended to pluck something from the girl’s back. “I see what you mean. Okay, no chicken. What then?”
He’d never spent much time feeling jealous, and certainly not of his daughter, but for a moment too brief to measure he would have gladly traded places with his twelve-year-old little girl. Why was Melissa normal around her and not around him?
He looked at Wendi’s laughing face. She was a pain sometimes, but basically a good kid. She was fun and bright an
d…
The light went on. Wendi was a kid. Melissa was used to working with children. That’s how she made her living. But he was a different animal altogether. While his eyes had been bandaged, she’d been able to pretend that he was just another patient, but now she was shy.
Not bad figuring for a guy who made his living designing buildings, he told himself. Now all he had to do was charm her into relaxing around him. Easier said than done, unless…
“Chinese,” he said, walking onto the patio.
Both women turned to stare at him. “What?” Wendi asked.
“I said Chinese. I know this great restaurant we can—”
“Lo’s Garden? Is it Lo’s Garden? Oh, Daddy, please, please. Say yes, say yes.” She clung to his arm, pressing her wet body against his side.
“If you stop dripping on me, I’ll think about it.”
She gave him a damp hug. “Great! Can I bring Kelly?”
Over his daughter’s head, his eyes sought Melissa’s. A half smile curved her lips and she shrugged as if to say “What can you do?”
Her nose was peeling. All her makeup had long since melted. No other woman he knew would have allowed those baggy shorts and shirt into the house, let alone worn them. He wouldn’t change a thing about her.
“Yes to Kelly,” he said as he pulled out a chair. “Now, why don’t you bring Melissa and me a drink? Last time I checked, someone had just squeezed a pitcher of lemonade.”
Melissa stood hesitantly by the table. “I really should…”
“You really should sit down and enjoy the afternoon. Come on.” He patted the back of the seat coaxingly. “I’m getting tired of my own company.”
“If you’d like.” She sank down and adjusted the brim of her hat. “There’s no need for you to take me with you for dinner. I’d be quite happy to spend the time here by myself and…”
He cut her off with a glance. The plan was to make her comfortable, not give her more chances to avoid him. “And leave me alone with two twelve-year-old girls? Not on your life. What do you think you’re being paid for, if not to ease my suffering?”
“I was hired in a medical capacity, Mr. Phillips. Not as a chaperon.” She leaned forward as she spoke, lacing her fingers together on the table.
“If you don’t join us, I’ll have a breakdown and then you’ll never be free of me.” He touched her arm. “Say yes.”
“I…”
“Please.”
“Now you sound like Wendi.”
“Where do you think she gets it from? There’s a lot of Phillips charm running through that girl.”
“Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed.” The sweet smile contradicted her words.
Beneath his hand, he could feel the warmth of her skin. Tiny tremors rippled against his palm. Deep inside her brown eyes he read the concern, the apprehension, the fear. She was scared of him. It was a daunting thought. He’d always seen himself as a regular kind of guy, certainly not intimidating, but Melissa wasn’t from his jaded circle of acquaintances. Years ago, before Fiona, he’d known how to cajole a woman. Some of the skills had to have survived her betrayal.
It wasn’t as if he were interested in Melissa as a lover. A chuckle formed in his throat as he waited for his nose to grow. So he was interested in her that way, but he could handle that temptation. He only wanted to make her relaxed enough for them to be friends again.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I was just telling myself stories.”
“Do you do that sort of thing often? Should I put it in your chart?”
“Here you go.” Wendi walked into the backyard, a tray balanced precariously between her hands. “Lemonade all around.”
Melissa served the glasses, then set the pitcher in the center of the table. Wendi pulled a chair close to him and sat down. “Dad?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know when Melissa’s done here, she doesn’t have another job lined up?”
“No.” He glanced at her. The thought of her leaving caught him off guard. Surely the time wasn’t close to being up already. She’d signed on for three weeks and it had only been…
He counted. It had already been almost seventeen days. “Do you need time off for interviews? If so, you must take whatever you require.” Did the words sound as hollow to her ears? How could she just walk out of their lives like that? And why did her going away sound so bad?
“Logan, stop.” She tossed her hat onto the chair next to her and ran her fingers through her hair. The bangs, damp from the afternoon heat, stood up like little spikes. Farmer’s daughter goes punk. God, he’d miss her. “I don’t have a job lined up because I don’t know what I want to do. I’ll probably take a few weeks off to regroup, so don’t worry. But thanks for the generous offer.”
“Daddy.” Wendi tugged on his sleeve.
“Hmm?”
“Mrs. Dupuis doesn’t come back until September and you haven’t hired anyone to look after me yet. Why can’t Melissa stay with us for the rest of the summer?”
Chapter Five
“Stay? Here? I…I couldn’t.” Could she? Melissa took a long drink from her glass. Stay with Logan…in the same house? Watching him, talking with him, t-touching him? It would be a new and impressive form of torture. Only a fool would subject herself to such potential heartbreak. She might not be the smartest girl in the class, but she wasn’t a fool.
Logan looked at his daughter and then at her. His dark glasses hid his eyes from view, so she could only guess what he was thinking. If she knew her patient, it was two parts outrage and one part irritation. He was almost completely healed. The only service she provided was to yell at him for reading and put his drops in every night. No doubt he’d been counting the days until she was gone.
“Wendi, it’s sweet of you to ask, but I’m not a housekeeper.”
“We have the cleaning ladies come in twice a week,” he said. “You wouldn’t have to do any of that work.”
What did he mean? He couldn’t…there was no way he wanted her to stay, was there?
“I have no real child-care training.”
“Melissa, you’ve been working with sick children for six years. I think you could handle one healthy if somewhat bratty twelve-year-old.”
Wendi bounced on her seat and nodded. “I’d be an angel.”
Her father glanced at her. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
Melissa moved her glass in uneven circles on the table. “Logan, you want me to stay? For the summer?”
“Yes.”
She would have been fine if he hadn’t smiled. But as soon as he flashed the grin, she felt her insides begin to quiver. Help me, she begged her pride. There was no reply; that part of her brain was tellingly silent.
“Say yes,” Wendi pleaded. Her green eyes had that soft, sweet, puppy-dog expression.
“I…”
Saying yes would be a mistake. Logan and Wendi were from a different world. There was no place for her with the “pretty people.” Staying would only put herself in danger. No, that wasn’t true. It would put her heart in danger. If she were to remain with him, he could steal it as easily as a bird stealing a crumb. And like the winged creature, he’d leave nothing in return.
He named a salary that made her almost keel over in a dead faint. That amount, combined with her savings, would let her go to school for two semesters without having to work at all. She could get her degree that much sooner. Temptation began to weaken her resolve.
Logan took off his glasses. The tawny irises glowed with a power she could not resist. She was putty in his hands. She was a fool.
“Yes,” she said. “I’ll stay.”
“Rice, tomatoes, paper towels, laundry detergent, cat food.”
“Cat food?” Wendi pulled the shopping list from Melissa’s hand. “We don’t have a cat.”
“Just checking to see if you were paying attention.” She put another cantaloupe in the cart. “I think that’s everything f
or the house. Now I need a couple of items and then we’ll be off.”
“Did Dad tell you I won’t be home for dinner tomorrow? I’m staying over at my mom’s. She’s got a day off from the soap and she wants to see me!”
Melissa smiled at Wendi’s excitement. “I was told. I hope you have a good time, sweetie. Does your father, ah, drop you off at her house?” Please, she thought. Let her say yes.
“No. Mom usually comes to get me. But she doesn’t come inside much.”
Melissa stared upward. Thank you, she mouthed. The last thing she needed right now was a face-to-face encounter with the stunning Fiona Phillips. She turned the cart down another aisle and paused in front of the feminine hygiene section, then counted. Yup, it was almost time. Tossing the pink box on top of the pile, she looked for the shampoo.
“Do you get your period every month?” The girl stared at the box while she asked.
“Like clockwork. My whole family’s like that. In high school, my sisters and I would often start the same week. It drove my mom crazy.”
“I’m not going to get my period.”
“What?”
Wendi pushed her hair over her shoulder and picked up a set of barrettes. “It’s silly and I don’t want to.”
“They don’t send out a questionnaire first and ask your opinion. One day, it’s just there. It’s not so bad. Think of it as a part of growing up, like getting taller.”
Wendi glanced around to make sure they were alone in the aisle, then leaned forward. “Or getting breasts?” she whispered. “I like that part. Clothes look better with breasts, don’t you think?”
“I bow to your expertise as the resident fashion plate.”
Still laughing, she stepped to the rack of cosmetics and searched for her brand of mascara. After locating the familiar dark blue package, she reached for her color.
“Stop!” Wendi commanded. “You can’t buy that.”
“What is wrong with you? Of course I can buy it. I’m older than you. I can do what I want.”
Tender Loving Care Page 7
