Turning the Page (16 page)

Melanie hated that she couldn't grasp some of the phrases, didn't like to admit to a lack of

understanding. It made her feel dependent, something she despised.

"Not at all," he assured her in an easy tone. "Why don't you meet me by my car in an hour and bring your papers with you?"

"That would be great." She tried not to let her relief appear in her voice. "Thank you, Ben."

"Certainly. See you soon."

Melanie hung up the phone feeling much more at ease. She gathered up the papers into a neat

pile and put them in her briefcase. In doing so, she noticed she stil had the Katherine Forrest

novel she'd borrowed from the bookstore. She took it out, skimming the synopsis on the back.

She held it for several minutes more before setting it carefully on the kitchen table and

heading into the bedroom to change her clothes.

Across the yard, Ben was smiling smugly to himself. She'd been about to cal , eh? A wave of

relief had swept over him at that statement from her. He'd been less than pleased when

Taylor had strolled in this morning, whistling as she fixed herself a bowl of disgustingly

colorful cereal.

"Glad you could make it home," he'd remarked sternly, eyes glued to the paper he was reading.

"I was only next door, Dad," she'd replied, brushing it off as if he were being unreasonable.

"The phone doesn't work over there?"

"Dad, I'm twenty-seven years old. Do I really need to check in with you if I'm having too much

fun to come home?"

He'd peered over the newspaper at her, and she'd smiled innocently. Her eyes were twinkling

mischievously, masking some secret from him. Having too much fun to come home? He'd had to

bite his tongue to keep from asking exactly what she and Melanie had been doing over there.

"No, I suppose not," he'd replied grudgingly, deciding he didn't really want to know anyway.

When he had decided to ask Melanie to dinner, he was afraid Taylor may have already nabbed

her for the evening. He winced at the verb, erasing it from his head with a shake. But, lo and

behold, she had been just about to call him. Ha!

Choosing not to analyze the part of him that was still treating Melanie as the prize in a

contest between father and daughter, he skipped up the stairs two at a time, trying to decide

what he would wear to dinner, feeling like an eighteen-year-old kid. Tonight, he was going to

impress the hell out of Melanie Larson.

Chapter Fifteen

MELANIE FELT INFINITELY better about the legal aspects of purchasing the bookstore

after she'd gone over them with Ben.

Asking for his help had been a smart move. He seemed to be well versed in such things, and

Melanie was happy to find out that she hadn't been that far off in her interpretations.

According to Ben, everything looked to be in order, but he gave her the business card of his

own attorney and suggested she double-check with him, just to be safe.

They'd spent almost three hours in a comfortable booth at a little Italian restaurant called

Rizzi's, which was nestled just outside of the city proper. The food had been superb,

especially the appetizer of greens and beans, which she'd suggested they share. Ben had

warned against it, claiming that once she tasted them, she wouldn't want to give him even the

smallest of nibbles. He was right.

She'd had to make a conscious effort to keep from bringing the bowl to her lips and actually

drinking the buttery garlic broth that was left when she'd eaten the last leafy bite.

They'd talked almost exclusively about business, a little about the bookstore and a lot about

Rucker and Steele. Melanie tried not to notice that Taylor was avoided as a topic of

conversation, no matter how often she tried to bring up the woman's name. It was also rather

obvious how quickly the subject changed when she'd mentioned the theme of the bookstore.

He'd found a tangent somehow, and segued into an in-depth story about one of his clients.

In the two weeks she'd known him, Melanie had found Ben to be nothing but charming.

Tonight, she'd found his behavior...odd.

That was the only word she could think of to describe it. Maybe she'd ask Taylor about it

tomorrow.

For his part, Ben had seemed not to notice that Melanie had grown uncharacteristically

quieter as the evening wore on. He'd been generally pleased at the way the evening had turned

out. He'd patted himself on the back for sticking to general subject matter, avoiding his

daughter like the plague. He'd known his shying away from the "feminist bookstore" topic was less than discreet, but she'd caught him off guard on that one and besides, he wasn't sure

how he'd felt about it. Feminist bookstore? He didn't like the sound of that. The little voice in

his brain giggled quietly.

Melanie was embarrassed now at the wave of relief that washed over her as they pulled into

the driveway of Ben's picturesque home. Ben spoke as she reached for the door handle to let

herself out.

"It's still fairly early. Care to join me for a nightcap?"

"Oh," Melanie stumbled, flipping frantically through the Excuses File in her mind. "You know, I really have a lot of work to do if I want to get this bookstore in working order."

"But, tomorrow's Sunday," he pointed out, his disappointment clearly written on his face.

She smiled, trying to make light of the situation. "Retail knows no weekends."

Realizing he wasn't going to change her mind, he relented. The last thing he wanted to do was

push too hard. "All right, then. At least let me see you to the door like a proper gentleman."

Melanie was touched by the chivalrous gesture. "I'd like that." They began a leisurely stroll across the property. "Ben, thank you so much for looking over my papers. I really thought I'd

be able to figure them out, but...God. I think lawyers must make up words as they go along,

just to make the rest of us feel stupid."

Ben chuckled. "If you understood every word in a legal document, you wouldn't need a lawyer.

Think of it as self-preservation on their part."

They reached the front door of the carriage house, Melanie bending her head to unlock it. Ben

became suddenly uncomfortable.

"Melanie..."

"Mmm hmm?" When she looked up, he had trouble meeting her eyes. "What's the matter, Ben?

What's wrong?"

He blew out a determined breath. "That's just it. Nothing's wrong." He fidgeted, searching for the right words.

Melanie felt the red flags popping up all over the place.

"I keep waiting for something to be out of whack," he explained, "but it hasn't happened. I know there's quite a bit of difference in our ages, but..." He took hold of her hand. If only she knew how hard it was for him to open up this way. "I'm just really enjoying spending time with

you."

There. He would leave it at that. If she didn't know what it was he was trying to convey, she

must be thick.

Melanie stood blinking at him, not sure how to respond, trying to force a smile that didn't look

forced. She must have succeeded because he smiled back and squeezed her hand.

"I'll let you get some rest." He needed to get out of there, fast. He always felt so vulnerable when he let somebody see what he was feeling. He wanted to run. "Thanks for dinner. I had

a...magnificent evening." He kissed her softly on the cheek, absently rubbing his thumb over

the spot. Then, he turned away, heading back to his house, leaving Melanie standing on the

stoop, wondering how the hell she hadn't seen this coming.

She let herself into the house, leaning heavily against the door once she was inside.

"Shit."

She closed her eyes and shook her head, disgusted with herself for allowing things to go this

far, for not politely shutting Ben down from the start. Isn't that what she should have done?

What she'd wanted to do?

No, she admitted to herself. That's not what she had wanted. She had enjoyed his company

very much. He was intelligent, as well as respectful. He talked to her like she was on his level,

not like he was several steps above her and she should look up to him, wishing to be as large as

he was someday, like so many of the men in Chicago. Ben was different. Ben was what her

mother would refer to as "a good catch." Yes, he was nearly two decades older than she was, but so what? Such couplings were more and more common these days. She should be flattered

and consider herself lucky to have somebody like Benjamin Rhodes interested in her.

Shouldn't she?

So why did she want to hide under the nearest piece of furniture and never come out?

Her mind reeled the entire time she undressed, pulling on flannel boxers and a long-sleeved T-

shirt. It was spinning as she cleaned up the breakfast and lunch dishes she had left earlier,

and it continued to spin while she scrubbed the bathroom until she could see her own

reflection in the tub. She was just about ready to pull her own hair out when she noticed the

book she'd left on the kitchen table.

That's it, she told herself. I'l just put al this crap away and lose myself in a good book for a

while. Things wil be much clearer later.

She made herself a cup of tea, carrying it to the overstuffed chair she had been drawn to

that very first day she arrived. She curled up with the book and her tea, an afghan thrown

over her feet, much as she had envisioned herself then. With a contented sigh, she opened to

the first page of Curious Wine.

Chapter Sixteen

THE RED WINGS were having an awful season. Their record was hardly impressive, and by the

seventh inning, it was clear that Taylor and Melanie were about to witness their ninth loss in a

row. However, neither woman seemed to mind. They were having too good a time.

The seats Taylor had commandeered from her office were wonderful. They were on the third

base side of home plate, but up one level, affording them a perfect view of the entire field.

They were in the front row of their section, which meant there was nobody sitting in front of

them. They put their feet up on the railing, stuffing themselves full of hot dogs, beer, French

fries and for Melanie, cotton candy.

Melanie was impressed with Frontier Field. It was quite large, smartly organized, and very

clean. The seats were surprisingly comfortable, and the choice of foods was so wide, it

flustered her momentarily. Taylor explained to her how the stadium had only been constructed

three years prior, and was now a source of pride for the people of Rochester. The previous

field had been in a not-so-pleasant section of the city and was about half the size, with very

little parking. The development of this new stadium had been part of Mayor Johnson's overall

plan to rebuild downtown Rochester, to give it a facelift of sorts, bringing people into the

heart of the city without fear of crime. It was working remarkably well. With the addition of

the stadium came many new restaurants and bars, catering to the pre-game and post-game

crowds, filling up storefronts and warehouses that had been previously vacant or falling apart.

With the improved appearance came confident patrons. Plus, Taylor informed her, the Red

Wings were the farm team for the Baltimore Orioles and Rochesterians took their baseball

very seriously. Despite their lackluster record, the stadium was nearly filled to capacity with

screaming Red Wings fans.

Taylor sat down, handing Melanie another beer, and smiled, sipping her own Coke. "You having a

good time?"

"I'm having a great time. This is wonderful. Can we do it again sometime?" She sipped her

beer, her blue eyes watching Taylor over the rim of the plastic souvenir cup the brunette had

gotten for her. The joy on Taylor's face was unmistakable as she turned back to the game,

unable to keep the smile from spreading widely, making her sparkling brown eyes crinkle

around the corners.

"Absolutely. I'm enjoying myself, too." She left it at that, afraid to venture too far into how much she truly was enjoying herself, for fear of ruining the moment by scaring her companion.

She decided to change the subject. "Do you want something else to eat?"

Melanie widened her eyes, clamping a hand over her stomach. "Ugh... Not unless you want to be

carrying me home in a garbage bag."

"Wel , maybe you shouldn't have eaten al the cotton candy. Ever heard of moderation?"

Taylor teased.

"Hey," Melanie defended herself with a mock-frown, "I haven't had cotton candy since I was a kid. I lost control. It happens."

"Apparently."

Melanie beamed, turning back to the game in time to see a double play by the Wings. She and

Taylor both cheered and whistled, along with the rest of the crowd. Melanie couldn't

remember when she'd had such a good time. Things were so different when she was with

Taylor. She shook her head in amazement. There was no pressure to impress when she was

with the brunette. She felt like herself, like she could be herself and not have to make any

excuses for it. She felt like she could be silly or goofy or serious or passionate, and it would

be okay. Taylor would be okay with her, no matter what. How she was so sure of this, she had

no idea. She just was.

On the few dates she’d experienced in the past, she'd always felt like her date expected a

certain behavior from her, like they had some preconceived notion of whom she was and how

she should act. Even Ben seemed to expect her to fall right into his business-centered