Bedeviled Angel (12 page)

Only two tall ships passed by Salem Harbor before full dark, just enough, thank God, to thrill the four-year-old pirate among them. Then they all went down to the living room, where Melody's father sat beside her, complimenting Logan on his

"expensive" cordovan leather sectional before taking his daughter's hand. "Mellie, I think about you all the time."

Melody's soft, full-hearted smile made her topaz eyes shine, as if she'd been given a great gift. "Really, Daddy?"

Chester nodded. "Every month when my accountant reminds me that you're not cashing the checks I send you."

Melody's pleasure dimmed, and Logan caught the flash of hurt she tried to hide.

"I told you, Dad, I don't need your help. I'm doing fine."

Logan's respect for Melody rose a double notch. She
was
doing fine, though he was concerned about how long that would last.

"So you give my money away?" Chester didn't so much ask his daughter a question, as chide her for her answer. "In my name, no less," he said to the company at large, "to heaven knows who all, and his cousin's worthless brother besides." He patted Melody's hand with the first show of fatherly affection Logan had seen. "Who's going to come knocking on my door asking me for more money this week, Mellie-Pie? 'Free the Warthogs?' or 'Iguanas for the Homeless?'"

Logan stifled a chuckle, no less entertained than his mother, while Jessie didn't look the least surprised at any of it.

"So, let me get this straight, Mr. Seabright," Logan said. "I take it that you sometimes send Melody money to live on?"

"Sometimes? Try, every month, and it's more than enough to live on. It's enough to… live pretty damn well on. She doesn't need those pathetic jobs she takes."

"Damn it, Daddy!"

"Dad, Mel said a bad word."

Good for Mel
. "Provocation, son," Logan said.

Shane thought about that for a minute, but when he started to speak, he caught the warning in Logan's look, and shrugged.

Logan returned his attention to Mel's father. "So, Melody chooses to provide for herself, does she? I find that commendable." Logan gave her a thumbs up, garnering a grin from her and a grimace from her father. "And she gives your money to charity?"

"Worthless charities, and worthless dress shops doomed to failure. Hell, she's throwing my money away." Chester looked at Melody in much the same way Logan had just regarded Shane, as if she were a recalcitrant child. "Care to explain yourself?" he asked her, "while we're on the subject."

Melody raised her gaze to the heavens before focusing on Logan, rather than on her father, the twinkle in her eyes subtle, but undeniable. "Kira got a job as a fund-raiser at The Salem Museum of Witchcraft and needed a few donations to her credit." She shrugged. "Daddy's checks were just sitting there, gathering dust, so I got the bright idea of signing one of them over to the museum."

"Six thousand dollars," Chester roared, loud enough to make Shane step in front of Melody and square his shoulders.

"Six grand. Did you ever hear of anything so, so—"

"Worthwhile?" Melody supplied. "Really, Daddy, it's an institution with an admirable mission and a sound fiscal plan. So is Vickie's dress shop." She turned to Logan. "For some reason, Daddy went ballistic." Her chuckle seemed to escape of its own volition.

It would be easy to think that Melody had been pissing Daddy off for attention, like Heather had done with her father by dating Logan, Logan remembered, but it seemed clear that Melody had started by helping a friend and that annoying her father had been an unexpected plus.

"I have better things to do with my money," Chester groused to no one in particular, as he rose, looking harried, and emptied the martini shaker into his glass.

"You'll like this one, Mellie," he said, his grin wry. "A woman walked into my office this week with a prego twelve-year-old in tow, and doesn't she tell some receptionist, in front of half my staff, that she wants to talk to me about what I've done."

Logan choked on his drink, Jessie completely lost it, which got his mother laughing, too, and Shane wanted to know what a 'ceptionist was.

"Oh, Daddy," Melody said, half laughing, half concerned. "I'm guessing she came from The Keep Me Foundation?"

Chester Seabright did not appreciate being the entertainment, and yet Logan saw a quick flash of something that could almost be termed
longing
in the way he regarded his daughter just then. It made him wonder if Chester didn't want Melody's approval as much as Mel wanted her father's.

Logan caught his mother's eye and knew that she had noticed the same thing.

"You weren't rude, were you?" Melody asked her father. "Not to them?"

"Rude!" Chester shouted. "I'm never rude."

"Right," Melody said, pulling the dish of cashews closer. "But The Keep Me Foundation does great work, Dad, with teens who want to keep—" She tousled Shane's hair. "It pays the obstetrical bills, gives the young women a place to live, before and after, and an education, so that they can provide for their little ones. They even help new mothers find apartments and get work and baby-sitters."

"It's bad enough you won't take my money," Chester said, missing the point entirely, "but do you have to give it away in
my
name?"

"Well, I don't want them coming after me for more. I don't have any money."

Her father sat beside her and patted her knee. "You're a looker, sweetheart, but I sure wish you had some brains in that gorgeous featherhead of yours."

Logan's mother grimaced. "Chester," she said. "Melody was joking; she doesn't deserve that."

Way to go, Mom.

Melody scooped up the last of the cashews.

Logan slid the bowl of popcorn her way. "Mel
is
gorgeous," he said. "I'll grant you that, sir, but a featherhead? The star of the new
Kitchen Witch Show
on WHCH

TV? I don't think so."

"Mellie?"

Melody eyed the popcorn. "Hardly a star, Dad."

Logan caught her watching him, not sure if he'd pleased her by sticking up for her or annoyed her by putting her father in his place. Either way, the guy deserved what he got. But when Logan looked more closely, he saw that his defense had warmed Melody in a way that warmed him right back. She pushed the bowl of popcorn aside.

"Star or not," Chester said. "Using her assets to advantage hardly makes her bright."

"What is it with men and my assets?" Melody snapped. "And you can both just stop talking about me as if I weren't here."

"Not bright. Brilliant," Logan said, knocking the wind from her sails. "Melody is brilliant. She came to the station with a sound business proposal and every aspect of the show worked out—title, persona, wardrobe, marketing. I'm telling you, she wowed management, big time."

"You sound as if you were there," Chester said.

"Hell-o," Melody said in two annoyed, but intrepid syllables. "
I'm
still here."

"Well," her father snapped. "Was he there, or not?"

Melody sighed. "He's the producer, Dad."

"Aha!"

Logan rose from his chair. "I take exception to the insinuation in your tone, sir."

"Yeah," Shane said, taking a similarly defensive stance. "Just 'cause Mel didn't have no more apples and the cherries made me puke—"

Logan put his hand on Shane's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Right, son.

Time for dessert. Why don't you go get the ice cream out of the freezer while we finish our discussion."

"Okay, Dad." Shane raced toward the kitchen but slid into a turn just their side of it. "We got chunky doodle!" he announced before resuming his sprint.

"I'm telling you, sir," Logan continued. "Melody is magic in front of the cameras

—" An idea hit him, and he grinned. "Wait, that's it! Magic. Kira's odd greeting could be our theme song. Can't you hear them playing 'Do You Believe in Magic?' as your intro, Mel?"

"I like it," she said in surprise. "Do you think Gardner will?"

"Yeah," Logan said. "I do."

"You, on television?" her father said, erasing her smile. "I don't know, Mellie. I'm

afraid you'll make a fool of yourself, of us all, really. Better think twice before you do something so… so public."

"Right, Dad." Melody shook her head and got up. "No ice cream for me, thanks.

I'm going to call it a night. This has been a long week." She hugged Jessie, then Phyllis, then she forced a smile and took her father's hand to pull him from the sofa.

"Let me walk you to your car, Dad."

"Chester, stay," Logan's mother said, and Chester sat down again.

Both Logan and Melody frowned as Logan accompanied her to the door. "You okay?" he asked, stepping into the stairwell with her and closing his door to shut out the sound of the party behind them.

Melody shook her head, as if she didn't want to talk about it, as if she couldn't get any more words past the lump in her throat.

After seeing her father wear her down, Logan wondered if Daddy didn't have something to do with her string of failures, sort of a subconscious "that's what he expects, so that's what he'll get" kind of thing. "Mel?"

"I'm fine." She smiled half-heartedly. "Just beat."

Logan didn't believe her, and he didn't want to let her go feeling the way she did.

He indicated that she should precede him down the stairs.

If she ate when she was upset, she must be twice as upset, if she could stop pre-chunky doodle.

MELODY wondered why Logan came out onto the landing with her, but when he took her arm halfway down the stairs, she stopped and turned with the question on her lips.

With a slight pressure of his hand, however, and a silent invitation in his eyes, he urged her down. So she sat, there in the enclosed stairs—too surprised to deny him

—shoulder to shoulder with the man who'd swept his talented hands over every intimate part of her only a few hours before. Melody shivered at the memory.

Logan shrugged out of his zippered sweatshirt and placed it over her shoulders.

Oh God. She could love a man who… took care of her?
Not
. She needed sleep, a good night's rest, that's all. Her defenses were down. She didn't really want to put her head on Logan's shoulder or feel his arm around her. To be safe, though, she sidled away and leaned against the wall to face him and keep her distance.

Silence settled around them, soft and comfortable. The unlit stairway felt…

intimate, not quite dark, but not light either. Slatted mahogany walls, a yellowed ceiling, doors, closed at either end, cocooned them. A hideaway, cozy, clean.

Melody gave the step above them the white glove test, minus the glove. "Shane did a good job this morning."