Once in a Blue Moon (2 page)

She perked up. Bernie
could be relied upon to know the current gossip and it was usually
accurate. “Tell me.”

Bernie leaned forward
enjoying the moment. “Apparently someone, whose name I will not
mention, but whose initials are T.K., has finally found a
buyer.”

“No! He’s sold his
business?”

“If I’m lyin’, I’m
dyin’.” He laughed apparently amused by her stunned expression.

“Who is it? How much?
Could this be a merger?”

“That I don’t know
yet.”

She raised a brow.
“Don’t know or won’t say?”

Bernie shrugged and
plucked the remote off the desk and turned up the volume on the
television as the weather report came on.

Melissa wasn’t interested. “
Bernie
!”

“Just a minute; I’m
going out on the town tonight and I want to hear this.” He flashed
her a grin. “I might need to waterproof my new outfit.”

Exasperated, Melissa
turned to see a weatherman with a cheesy grin and a J.C. Penny suit
fill the screen.

“It’s
the blue moon tonight, folks! For those of you who aren’t sure what
that is, listen close. No, it does not mean the moon will turn
blue. What it means is it’s the second full moon to occur in the
same month. It doesn’t happen all that often; on average about
every two or three years, hence the term
once in a blue moon
. And lucky us!
We’re going to have clear skies in California tonight to see
it!”

Melissa’s brows
furrowed; why did this ring a bell for her?

The weatherman
continued. “But warning, watch out for crazies tonight! Weird
things happen on the night of the blue moon! Stay tuned, because
later we’ll be interviewing a man who says strange and unusual
things happened to him during the last one!”

“Please.” Melissa
rolled her eyes. “Some people will do anything to get on
television.”

“
Awoooooooowooooowoowooo
,” Bernie
threw back his head and did a very poor imitation of a wolf
howling. He ran out of breath and grinned.

She shook her head.
“Bernie sometimes you worry me.”

He
laughed. “I thought you liked that science fiction stuff. You told
me
Star Trek
was
your favorite show as a kid. Heck, after a few drinks, you can
quote whole episodes; and you love to design that futuristic
crap!”

Melissa regretted ever
telling Bernie anything about her personal life. She didn’t need
him prodding memories best left behind with her drunken mother and
their trailer house.

The door swung open and
Xavier walked in. Their boss looked fantastic as always; clothed in
black slacks and a black mock turtleneck. His colored blond hair
professionally cut short, he wore a minimum of gold jewelry as well
as trendy spectacles. Very understated chic. “Hello children,
working hard?”

Bernie simply shrugged
and Melissa straightened in her chair. Xavier always made her feel
she should be doing more, working harder.

Xavier smiled, fake and tight. “The work you did at the
fashion show on Saturday was brilliant, Melissa. Simply brilliant.
You are even mentioned in the
Los Angeles
Times
, so the fashion editor apparently
thought so too. A bit of luck, that, was it?” his tone was cold,
his voice soft.

They stared at each
other; both knew it wasn’t luck. She’d plotted and planned to get
her own name mentioned, and she had.

He lifted the article
which she’d already read. “It says here, ‘up and coming Los Angeles
designer Melissa Kendal’s creation was the hit of the show. The
silk metal alloy gown set off several metal detectors, causing a
hilarious moment when security guards jokingly considered having
blonde beauty, Miriam Bertram, remove the gown for inspection.”

Melissa smiled
slightly, everything had gone according to plan.

Xavier’s smile was long gone. “Now why do you suppose Xavier
Ellison, the design house you
work
for, is not mentioned? Hmmm?”

Because she’d made sure she hadn’t mentioned it, that’s why.
She wanted
her
name recognized not the house she worked for. “How
strange.”

“Yes, that is strange.
And if it happens again I’m going to be very, very unhappy.
Understood?”

Their gazes locked, her
throat tightened and she fought a swallow. She wasn’t ready to
break out on her own yet. “I understand.”

“Good.” He turned away
then back again. “Of course your work wouldn’t be nearly so
impressive if I hadn’t put my personal stamp on it, would it?”

Anger formed a tight
knot in her chest and heated her cheeks but she kept her face
carefully blank. She loathed him. He’d done nothing, absolutely
nothing, but she took her cue. “Of course, Xavier; as always it was
an honor to work with you.”

Xavier nodded once,
accepting his due, then turned to leave.

“Coming Bernie?”

“Of course.” Bernie
winked at Melissa, slid off the desk and followed.

Fuming, she watched
them both leave. Why did Xavier always try and take credit for her
work? How much longer did she have to put up with his abuse?

She sat forward. There
was nothing she could do about it yet. When she was ready to launch
her own line it would be different; she’d be totally in control.
She only had to put up with that cretin for a short while
longer.

When she left hopefully
she’d take Bernie with her.

She turned back to her
work and reopened the program.

There was no such thing
as luck in this business. Success took hard work and planning.

Fortunately, she was
good at both.

* * *

Hours later, Melissa
glanced at her watch. It was already four in the afternoon, she
wasn’t even close to being done, so it looked like another
all-nighter. But at the moment, it was time for a short break.

She started to pick up
the phone to ask Stacy for messages, then changed her mind. She’d
go get the messages herself; it would give her a chance to stretch
her legs.

Arching her neck, she
tried working out the kinks, yawned, then stood and stretched. When
she opened the door, the whirring of sewing machines, ringing
telephones and voices washed over her. Her eyes narrowed as she
approached her secretary’s desk. “What on earth are you
wearing?”

Stacy looked down at
her outfit. “Oh, you like this?”

The floral print dress
did nothing to bring out Stacy’s blonde highlights and blue eyes.
Besides being ugly, it completely washed out her already pale skin
and hung shapelessly on her petite frame. “It’s awful. May I remind
you how important presentation is? You work in a fashion design
office. Dress like it.”

Stacy shrugged. “You
need to be a little more grounded in reality. Clothing is not as
important as other things, like say...family?”

“Since you don’t have
one, how would you know?”

Stacy rolled her eyes.
“Just because I don’t have kids doesn’t mean I don’t have
family.”

“You don’t have a
husband, either.”

Stacy glanced pointedly
at Melissa. “And you probably won’t have one for much longer, since
you treat him so badly.”

Melissa glared.
“Richard likes the way I treat him.”

Stacy snorted. “Did you
want something when you came out here? If so, tell me what it is so
I can get it for you and you can go back to work.”

Melissa tapped a
Gucci-clad foot. She didn’t dare threaten to fire Stacy. She had a
hard time keeping employees and Stacy was good at her job.

Stacy smiled. “Are you
going to have a tantrum? Because if you are, I think I’ll take my
break now and let you take it out on my desk.”

Her composure drove
Melissa crazy, but she actually liked her; liked that she wasn’t
intimidated; cowards drove her insane. She’d take lippy over weak
any day.

Melissa looked around.
“Where’s Kari?”

“She went home,
sick.”

Melissa made a
depreciating noise. Speaking of cowards, Kari was a big one.
Melissa had never once in her entire career let anyone chase her
away with her tail between her legs. She’d come back for more until
she’d been taken seriously. “What about the Montgomery line?”

“Kari left
instructions. It’s all under control.”

Melissa wasn’t sure she
believed that. She glanced out into the general area where sewing
machines hummed. She could see newly made dresses and slacks
hanging from the post, and the burnt orange material of the jacket
for the fall line. She nodded. “Keep your eye on the progress and
let me know if it gets behind schedule. Have you got anything else
for me?”

Stacy
handed Melissa a clipped newspaper article. “Here. It’s an article
from the
Los Angeles
Times
. Brilliant Melissa Kendal, yada yada
yada.”

Melissa took the
article. “What else?”

“Also...” Stacy dug
around in a stack of junk beside the desk, lifted a wrapped
package, and handed it to Melissa.

“You got a present from
that weird Russian guy. You know, the one who had a fit when you
couldn’t use real zebra skin on his cowboy hat?”

Melissa opened the card
and read it.

‘Dear Marvelous
Melissa. Very pleased with your work. Will be back again. Please
accept this token of my appreciation.’

Melissa tore off the
wrapping paper and revealed a western coffee table book. Hmm. A
check would have been nicer. She flipped through it quickly:
saddles, horses, branding irons, old barns, ropes, dusty cow
trails, cowboys in slickers. “Yuck.” She dumped it onto Stacy’s
desk. “Messages?”

“Your mother-in-law’s
been calling.”

Melissa curled her lip.
“No doubt she wants to talk about dead people or buried
treasure.”

Stacy’s smile was wry.
“Well, I don’t know about any treasure, but a lot of people are
interested in their genealogy. I hear once you get bitten by the
bug you can really get into it.”

Melissa rolled her
eyes. Since the space on her own birth certificate for ‘father’ was
blank, Melissa didn’t see herself ‘getting into it’ anytime soon.
And though her mother-in-law was nice enough, Carol Kendal drove
Melissa insane with her quest for discovering information about
generations past. “Anyone else call?”

Stacy handed over a
list, which Melissa quickly glanced over. Several clients wanted
her to call back, and there were five messages from Jeremy.

“You
do see that your son has called
five
times
?”

Just then the phone
rang and Stacy answered. She pulled the phone away from her ear,
cupping the mouthpiece. “Make that six.” Stacy raised her brows and
the phone.

Melissa didn’t move to
take it. “Is he bleeding?”

Stacy just stared at
her.

A twinge of guilt
speared through Melissa and she sighed. “Oh, all right.” She held
out a hand and took the phone. “Yes? What is it?”

“Mom, did you forget
about tonight?” Jeremy sounded panicked.

“What about
tonight?”

“The blue moon?”

“Jeremy, what are you
talking about?”

Jeremy sighed loudly.
“My science fair project? Remember? As part of my grade my parents
have to watch me give my presentation at home. You said you’d watch
tonight.”

“I did?” She vaguely
remembered something about it.

“Look, just forget
about it. I have. Here, Dad wants to talk to you.”

“Melissa?” Richard’s
deep voice came down the line. “Hold on just a sec.”

She could hear him
telling Jeremy to shut the door.

“Okay, what’s going
on?” He sounded irritated. “Aren’t you coming tonight?”

Melissa sighed. “I have
so much work to do.”

Richard sucked in a
breath. “Look. Jeremy is showing some responsibility for a change.
He’s actually trying to bring his grades up. The blue moon only
happens tonight and he needs the score this project will give him.
Encourage him, will you?”

“I’ll try.”

“Melissa,” his voice
lowered another octave. “You’d better do more than try. Be here by
nine o’clock.” He banged the phone down hard.

She winced and, chest
tight, lowered the receiver and stared at it. What had just
happened? Richard never lost his temper. With a hand that trembled
slightly, she handed the phone back to Stacy.

Stacy’s lips curved
into an insincere smile. “Problems?” she asked sweetly.

Melissa’s eyes narrowed
and she raised her chin. “Just do your job and keep them away from
me. If they persist, remind them I’m here so I can contribute to
our family. I make more money than my husband; you’d think that
would count for something.”

Stacy gazed at her with
something like pity. “Money isn’t everything.”

Melissa returned the
pity with a razor sharp smile. “Oh, but it is everything. It’s
control.”

The pity increased in
Stacy’s expression and she shook her head. “Tell your family that
and see what they think.”

Melissa’s lips
tightened. She didn’t want to hear this. She was a wonderful wife
and mother. She didn’t drink until she passed out, didn’t throw up
on the floor, didn’t embarrass her family with her appearance and
didn’t force her children to wear rags.

Something was obviously
bugging Richard, so she’d try her best to make it home early
tonight. However, all that meant was she’d be working at home
instead of the office.

The phone rang again
and Stacy answered. “It’s Miriam Bertram, the model.”

Melissa turned. “
This
call I’ll take in my office.” She stopped, turned
back and picked up the coffee table book. She’d take it home to
Richard. He’d enjoy it. And even though she hadn’t done anything
wrong, perhaps a peace offering was a good idea. What could it
hurt?