Magical Mayhem (3 page)

"This is a very nice place," she whispered, speaking to Montague.

"The food here is pretty good. Not the best I've ever had, but this isn't home, either," he told her, grinning. "My Ma makes the best lasagna in the world, and most any other Italian dish. Pop loves Italian."

"Tell me about your family," she bossed. "Do you have any brothers and sisters?"

"No brothers, just sisters... eight of them," he said and then waited for the inevitable reaction.

Megan's eyes widened in surprise. "Are they older or younger?"

"They are all younger, between the ages of sixteen and thirty. I'm thirty-two," he explained. "What about you, Megan? Any siblings?"

"Yes, two brothers; both older. Dad is a retired police officer, and both the boys followed in his footsteps. I am the family screw-up," she admitted.

"I do not want to hear you say that again, young lady." Montague's voice was low, but very firm. "I will not listen to you put yourself down like that."

"Even if I am speaking the truth?" she asked. "You can ask my parents or Wally and Dave. They'll agree that I was born to make them all worry."

"How old are your brothers?" Montague asked, wondering when and if he'd get a chance to punch them all in the face and tell them to stop putting their sister down. Megan was a beautiful young woman who had absolutely no confidence in herself.

"Don't laugh, but Wally is forty-two and Dave is thirty-eight. I was an 'oops' baby," she stated, blushing.

"And I bet they all spoiled you rotten!" Montague smiled teasingly. The waiter came once again to serve their wine, and he walked away after taking their order for appetizers and entrees.

"I'm not sure I will be able to eat so much," she confessed. "Everything sounds so good!"

"I expect you to eat well," he told her in a firm tone of voice. "I like to see a woman eat as if she enjoys food. I hate it when anyone nibbles at food and then claims to be so full they can't eat another bite. Eating is a pleasure to enjoy."

"I love to eat," she insisted. "But, I'm not as big as you are, and I don't think I can eat an appetizer and a meal, too."

"Well, just do your best. I won't spank you if you don't clean your plate."

"Montague, you aren't going to spank me again, period. I hope you know that. I am a grown woman and..."

"And you do need a damn good spanking every once in a while," he cut her off to say. "After that little spanking I gave you, you concentrated and learned the trick. It helped to keep you focused, didn't it?" His eyes told her he already knew the answer and nothing she said was going to change his mind.

"You frightened me," she told him.

He studied her face for a full minute and then he said, "Lying is spankable, young lady. You were not frightened, were you? Perhaps you were surprised, but you were hardly frightened, not the way you were fussing at me. If you were frightened, you would have been screaming for help, and the very second I let you up, you would have run for the door, or to your room and locked the door and called for help. No, you weren't frightened. And now you are trying to make me feel guilty, and it isn't going to work. All you've accomplished is to earn yourself another spanking for lying to me."

Before Megan could reply the waiter returned with the huge appetizer he ordered, and two plates so they could share. It was a sample plate of all the other appetizers and Megan felt her stomach growl in hunger. While the company she worked for paid for her room, she had to pay for her meals, and it was expensive at times. She had no car, and unless someone with a car was driving elsewhere, she was forced to eat whatever was available. She'd been trying to make her last check stretch until she got paid again, and existing on what was cheap. This was real food, and it looked and smelled wonderful. She helped herself, and forgot all about Montague's threat to spank her for lying.

"This is wonderful, Montague!"

"Yes, it is," he agreed, enjoying the fact that she was actually eating and not picking daintily at her food. Glenna was a picky eater, and all she ever wanted to talk about was her husband and his job. "Have you read Harlan Coben's latest novel?" he asked, looking at Megan hopefully.

"Yes! Are you finished with it? I don't want to spoil the ending for you!" Her green eyes were sparkling with excitement, and Montague was truly thrilled that the little redhead was as passionate about books as he was. They talked so much that it seemed like only a couple of minutes before their dinners were served.

"Would you like more wine, Megan?" he asked.

"No, but if you want more, go ahead," she replied.

"No... I'll drink water now, and coffee with dessert. I am driving, remember?"

"Thank you, Montague. If you'd had more to drink, I would have taken a taxi back to the hotel. My father is a retired cop, remember?" She smiled impudently.

"I don't drink and drive, little girl. You'll be safe with me."

"I believe you," she told him with a shy smile. "Is your dinner good?" she asked, eyeing his plate.

"Very good, and yours?"

"Fantastic. Do you want a taste?" she offered, hoping he would give her a taste of his food.

Montague laughed. He enjoyed Megan's company, and he relaxed. They shared their food, talked throughout the meal, and Montague insisted on dessert and coffee.

The tiramisu was simply wonderful, and Megan couldn't remember the last time she enjoyed herself so much. Her tummy was actually full and she felt satisfied. Working for Montague the Majestic was proving to be exciting. She was sorry to see the meal come to an end, but it was time to return to the hotel. She wondered if they would be working when they got back, and she decided they would be. She had a lot to learn before tomorrow evening's shows.

Montague drove with skill and it didn't take long to get back to the hotel. He left his car with the parking attendant and they hurried inside. Megan was positive that his mind was on rehearsal, and she reconciled herself to the idea that they would be working for several more hours. It wasn't until they were almost to the elevators when she looked across the lobby and felt her heart hammer within her chest. "Oh nooooo!" she whispered.

"What is wrong?" Montague watched her face turn pale. He looked out over the lobby and saw nothing that should upset her. Still, she was standing there and staring. "Megan, tell me right now; what is wrong?"

"It's my father, Montague. He must have been serious about driving here to check on me! He's actually here!"

"Introduce me," Montague said, taking her arm and leading her toward the only man who was old enough to be her father. He was sitting in a chair, watching the front doors of the hotel, obviously waiting for Megan to come inside. His manner was stiff and foreboding, and Montague knew he was going to have to convince the man that his little girl was safe with him.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" Megan asked with a gentle smile as she put her arms around him from behind and leaned down to kiss him on his clean shaven cheek.

"Where did you come from, young lady? I have been watching the door for you for the past hour!" George Marley got to his feet to tower over her, disapproval in his blue eyes.

"We came in the side doors. If I hadn't glanced over this way we wouldn't have known you were here. But, Dad, you didn't need to drive all the way here!" she protested with a shake of her head. "It is wonderful to see you, though!" She gave him another hug, and he kissed her affectionately. "Dad, this is Montague the Majestic. I am working as his assistant now... unless he finds me inept and fires me," she amended, looking up at Montague.

"You are learning, Megan," Montague told her, extending his hand to her father and saying, "It is nice to meet you, sir. Megan tells me you are a retired police officer."

"That is true." The two men studied each other as men do.

"Would you like to come upstairs with us, Mr. Marley? If you haven't had dinner, I'll order room service for you."

"Thank you, but I'm not hungry. A cup of coffee would be good." He finally relented.

"I could use another cup, too," Montague agreed. They all walked to the elevator, and Megan decided that she was going to stay out of the line of fire. The two men were trying to stake their claim to her, and it was obvious her Dad wasn't just going to go away and permit her to live her life as she saw fit. No, he was going to make a scene, and Montague was going to love matching wits with him!

"This is a very nice suite," George stated as he looked around.

"I like to be comfortable when I travel, and I want my assistant to be comfortable and to feel safe as well. That is why I always insist on a suite with two bedrooms."

"I see," George commented. "And just what convinced you my daughter was qualified for this job? She's never taken any training, and as far as I know, she's never set foot on a stage before... not unless you count grade school Christmas programs, and then she was nervous as could be and kept twisting the hem of her dress!"

"Dad!" Megan was mortified.

"It's the truth, little girl, isn't it?"

"It might be, but I'm not a child!" she retorted.

"You'll always be my little girl. You're too trusting and naive." George spoke those words for the other man's benefit.

"Dad, you are embarrassing me!" she whispered, her expression pleading with him to shut up!

"Megan, your Dad is doing exactly what my Pop would do. I respect him for it, too." Montague stuck up for her father. "Sir, I have eight sisters, all younger than me. Pop is protective of them, too. He'd be right here, sitting in that chair, if any one of the girls took a job of this sort. He'd want to satisfy himself that the employer wasn't on the make, and that his daughter would be safe. I'll answer any questions you have."

George had questions, plenty of them, and Megan found herself covering her face with her hands. She was so embarrassed she didn't know what to do. She wanted to scold him, and she wanted to scold Montague, too! She was sitting right here and they were acting as though she couldn't hear or see them!!! "Do either of you realize that I am capable of thinking and speaking for myself?"

"You tend to change jobs like most people change their clothes, little girl. I'm not going to allow you to get in over your head with some slime ball who is planning to take advantage of you. I think young Montague here is upstanding. I like the fact that he will be looking out for you. I had trouble going to sleep at night, worrying about you being all alone and wondering if you had your door locked."

"Dad, of course I kept my door locked, and the chain on, too, just like you taught me. I didn't take any chances."

"You switched jobs with no thought at all!" George reminded her.

"You just said you think Montague is upstanding! Isn't it just possible I inherited your ability to read people?"

"Could be, but I'd believe it was desperation after you got fired earlier today," George said, looking at her. He got to his feet. "It's getting late and I need to head on home. I'm teaching a class on self-defense in the morning, and I promised your Mom I would be home in plenty of time." He drew Megan close and hugged her tightly. "Don't be mad because I love you, honey. I need to know you are safe, and after talking to Montague, I believe he will keep tabs on you."

"I don't need anyone to keep tabs on me, Dad. I am not a little girl any more!" she argued.

"I promise to keep Megan safe, Mr. Marley. You're welcome to call or come and visit us on the road at any time."

"Thank you, son. I appreciate that." George Marley wasn't big on goodbyes. He kissed his daughter, said goodbye, and was out the door. He didn't stand and chat for a while once he made up his mind to leave.

When the door closed, Megan looked at Montague and said, "I apologize for my Dad! I honestly cannot believe he drove all the way here just to check up on me! You would think I was ten years old!"

"Megan Jeannine Marley, you plop your butt on that chair right now and listen to me!" Montague ordered.

"Oh, great! He gave you my middle name, too!" Megan grumbled as she sat.

"It suits you."

"It does not!"

"Your Dad was a cop. Do you know how many times he's seen young women your age battered and abused? He must have nightmares worrying about you all the time. What father wouldn't come to check and be sure his daughter is safe? Give the man a break and be thankful he loves you. A lot of people aren't lucky enough to have parents who love them. Hear me?"

"I know all of that, but you would feel differently if your parents came here to check up on me..."

"It's different, Megan, and if my folks thought you could be a threat, they'd come running. I'm thirty-two and my Ma can make me feel like I'm three years old."

"Now that I would love to see." When he frowned at her she decided it was time to change the subject. "Are you ready to get back to work, Montague?"

"That depends. Do you want your spanking now... or after we rehearse?"

"Spanking?! I don't want a spanking at all!"

"You lied, and I won't have it, Megan. When you lie, you'll be spanked."

"Oh, no, I won't!"

"Are you trying to tell me you think it alright to lie?" He looked at her in disbelief and disapproval.

"No, of course I don't believe it is okay to lie. But, you have no right to spank me!"

"It was me you lied to."

"Okay, so I lied. I won't do it again." She felt desperate.

"Megan, you told me you were frightened when I spanked you earlier, and you really weren't frightened. Why did you say that? What did you think I would do? Apologize?"

"I hoped you would realize that you were wrong to treat me like a naughty child simply because you were frustrated with me. It wasn't very fair!" Her green eyes filled with tears. "I was trying, and you made it sound like I was deliberately testing you. I wasn't!"

"Megan, your mind was wandering every which way and you were not paying attention. That is frustrating to me. So, I gave you a very little spanking to get your attention, and it worked. You were focused and you did well from that point on... until I realized it was time for dinner and your body was hungry. You cannot concentrate well when you are hungry." He paused and then added, "I told you when I hired you that I had a unique way of improving a performance, did I not?"