by Pamela Bauer
“Hey, Dad! Did you get the magic stuff?” Zachary asked, interrupting his father’s musings.
“Yup. It’s in my suitcase. There’s a blindfold, a pair of handcuffs and the book of magic tricks. We’ll look at them after we’ve had breakfast.”
That had the boys bouncing out of bed and racing to get dressed. As soon as they were gone, he noticed that Melody still stood outside his door. Waiting.
Pulling his bathrobe over his pajamas, Nick poked his head around the doorjamb and asked, “Want a piggyback ride downstairs?”
She nodded shyly. Nick bent down and let her climb up onto his back. She was warm and soft against him, causing his heart to flutter with mixed emotions. As he galloped down the stairs, she giggled, her chubby little fists clinging to his neck. Before he deposited her in her high chair, he gave her a hug and kissed her on the cheek.
“I missed you, Melody.”
She didn’t utter a sound, but clung to his neck for dear life, as if she thought he’d drop her. Finally Annabelle’s imposing voice had her loosening her grip.
“The children better eat or else they’re going to be late.”
While Annabelle was at work, Melody spent the day at TylerTots. Patrick and Zachary were enrolled in a summer program at the elementary school called Adventure Club.
Nick settled Melody in the high chair. “They don’t have to go this morning. I’ll take care of them.”
“What about your appointment with the real-estate agent?”
“It’s not until this afternoon. I’ll drop them off on my way.”
Annabelle frowned. “What about their lunch?”
“I can fix them something,” Nick assured her.
Skepticism crinkled his mother-in-law’s face. “I can come home on my lunch break if you want me to.”
“No. You have lunch with your friends as usual. We’ll be fine here, won’t we, Melody?” He gave his daughter a wink. She didn’t respond. When Annabelle started dishing up bowls of oatmeal, he nudged her aside, saying, “Here, let me do that. You go to work.”
Annabelle looked as if she wanted to protest, but just then the boys came racing into the kitchen with their arms spread wide, making airplane sounds. When Zachary saw what his father was spooning into the breakfast bowls, he let out a groan. “Oh, no! Not oatmeal again!”
Patrick continued to race around the room, one arm still outstretched. With his other hand he pinched his nose, causing his “Yuck! Yuck! Yuck!” to have a nasal sound.
“Boys!” Nick’s reprimand silenced both of them. To Annabelle he said, “We’ll be all right.”
The look on her face said she didn’t believe him, but she left just the same.
As soon as the back door had slammed shut, Nick dumped the oatmeal in the garbage and pulled out the frying pan. “How does French toast sound?” he asked.
* * *
KIKA LOOKED AT her watch and saw that it was only six-thirty. What had woken her? Maybe it was the absence of sound. In Minneapolis she went to sleep and awoke to the cacophony of traffic speeding down the interstate near her apartment complex. This morning she heard nothing, not even the hum of the air conditioner.
She climbed out of bed and padded over to the French doors leading to the tiny balcony. She pushed on the brass handle and gasped in delight at the beautiful sight that greeted her. The early-morning sun left a hazy, yellow glow on the green lawns of Tyler, the dew sparkling like diamonds.
There was a small coffeepot in the room, and Kika brewed a cup of French vanilla. Then she did something she rarely did at home—she sat outside in the morning quiet and watched the small town come awake.
As she did so, she visualized what she wanted to happen later that morning. She would go to the TylerTots center, speak with Glenna McRoberts and learn the name of the little redhead in the video, then contact the parents of the child. It was a doable job, one she could accomplish with the right approach. And there was no doubt in her mind that she had the right approach.
After a delicious breakfast, during which Susannah Santori demonstrated why she had been such a popular TV personality, fixing an array of dishes worthy of a four-star restaurant in the city, Kika slipped into a sleeveless denim vest and a long floral skirt. Wearing a pair of black boots that laced up the front, she walked the three blocks to the Tyler Fellowship Sanctuary. At exactly nine o’clock, she presented herself at TylerTots Community Day Care.
Angela Murphy, the day-care center’s director, greeted her with a smile and introduced her to Glenna McRoberts, who Kika learned was a part-time preschool teacher. Flattered by Kika’s praise for her ingenuity, Glenna readily answered all her questions regarding production of the Playmates video. Then she gave Kika a tour of the day-care facility and introduced her to the other staff members, including Daphne Sullivan, a tall, willowy blonde who had a two-year-old enrolled at TylerTots.
All of the staff were welcoming, with the exception of Daphne. Kika wasn’t sure if it was personal or if the woman simply didn’t approve of Kika’s reasons for being there.
Throughout the tour Kika had looked for the little redhead, but didn’t see her. When it was over, she broached the subject with Glenna. “There was a toddler in one of your videos,” she said. “She had red hair, didn’t play with the others but stood off in a corner.”
“Oh, you must mean Melody.”
Melody. Even though the child had appeared sullen, Kika thought the name somehow suited her. “Is she still here?”
“Well, yes, she is. Only today she’s not coming in until this afternoon.”
“How old is she?”
“Almost two. Is she one of the children you saw on the video who you think might work in one of your commercials?”
“There’s a possibility she could be.”
Glenna sighed. “Oh, isn’t it unfortunate that she’s not here.”
“I’d like to meet her, but my flight is at one-thirty.” Kika knew she needed an hour to drive back to Milwaukee, plus time to return the rental car and check in at the airlines. If she was going to see this Melody, it would have to be before noon. “Could you give me her parents’ address and phone number?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Ms. Mancini. That would be against the center’s policy—unless, of course, we had her parents’ permission.”
Kika understood the need for confidentiality. “Maybe you could give them a call and see if it’s all right? I wouldn’t ask except this really is a wonderful opportunity for little Melody.”
Glenna hesitated only briefly, then excused herself. Kika watched her go into the office and use the telephone. It wasn’t long before she returned, an apologetic look on her face.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Mancini. There was no answer. If you’d like to leave your name and number, I’d be happy to pass it on.”
Kika glanced at her watch. “I’ll tell you what. How about if I make a couple of phone calls and come back this afternoon?”
“But I thought you were leaving this morning.”
“That’s why I need to make the phone calls. If I can catch a flight later, I’d like to spend the day here at TylerTots...if that’s all right with you? I’d like to observe the children at play.”
“I’ll have to check with Angela, but I’m sure she won’t object.” Glenna gave her a warm smile and excused herself. Kika returned the smile, thinking that one way or another, she was going to see Melody. If the baby wasn’t going to be in until the afternoon, then Kika would rearrange her schedule to make sure she was there in the afternoon. She hadn’t come this far for nothing.
Within minutes, Glenna returned. “Angela says you’re welcome to stay.”
“Thank you. I’ll be sure to come right back.”
CHAPTER THREE
INSTEAD OF HIRING a baby-sitter to stay with his children while he was at work, Nick had taken his mother-in-law’s recommendation that he enroll the boys in Adventure Club and leave Melody at TylerTots day care. Annabelle had assured him that his daughter would li
ke going to the bright, cheerful center and that it would be a good opportunity for her to socialize with other children her age.
When he parked his car in front of the Tyler Fellowship Sanctuary and Melody began to fuss, however, he began to question his mother-in-law’s advice. From the expression on his daughter’s face, he could see she didn’t want to go inside.
“Mr. Miller, it’s good to see you again,” Angela Murphy said in greeting when he carried Melody in. “Hi, Melody.” She gave the toddler a warm smile.
Nick attempted to set his daughter down, but she clung to his shirt collar and buried her face in his neck.
Angela opened her arms. “Come, Melody. Let’s go see what we can find to do.”
Her answer was a grunt, which Nick knew meant no. When Angela attempted to take her from her father’s arms, she stiffened. According to Annabelle, Melody hadn’t objected to being left at the day-care center. If that were the case, Nick wondered why was she clinging to him for dear life.
“I’ll tell you what. It’s almost snack time. Maybe your daddy would like to eat with us?” Angela spoke to Melody, but looked at Nick.
“Would it be all right?” he asked, reluctant to pry his daughter’s fingers from his shirt.
“Of course. We have one other guest as well. Actually, it’s someone who’s been waiting to speak to you. A Ms. Mancini. She’s in the office.”
The director pointed to a room that had Plexiglas on the upper half of its walls. Sitting with her back to them was a woman with long blond hair.
Nick walked toward the office. As he drew closer, he saw that the woman was on the phone. Unintentionally, he overheard her end of the conversation.
“Oh, my God, Lucy. It’s awful. There are babies everywhere!”
There was distress in the vaguely familiar voice. Nick paused outside the door, wondering what kind of woman came to a day-care center and complained about children.
“I don’t have much choice.” Silence. “Uh-uh.” Silence. “I know.” Silence. “You’re right. I can do this.” She paused again, then said, “But this is it. No more kids. I just don’t want to be around them.”
She lowered her voice, then hung up, and Nick decided it was time to make his presence known. He rapped on the Plexiglas and received a bit of a jolt when Ms. Mancini turned around. Staring at him was the woman he had seen at the airport last night.
She had the most gorgeous shade of blond hair, yet her skin wasn’t fair, but a honey gold, and her eyes were dark. Last night her voluptuous figure had been hidden by a raincoat, but today he could see every curve and angle, and the vision was spectacular. Wearing a vest that fit her bosom like a glove and earrings that chimed when she moved her head, she looked totally out of place in a day-care center.
At the airport he had been too tired to respond to her flirting. Today his blood surged through his body at the sight of her gazing at him with interest. It had been a long, long time since he had had the urge to respond to that interest.
“So we meet again,” she said amiably as Nick stepped inside the office. This time the flirtatious tone was noticeably absent. She stood up, causing the slit in her long skirt to split and reveal a length of golden leg. “I’m Kika Mancini,” she said, offering her hand to Nick.
He shifted Melody to his left side, freeing his right hand so that he could shake it. “Nick Miller,” he said, trying not to notice the cleavage revealed by her vest.
“And this must be Melody,” Kika said, her eyes perusing the toddler in a very thorough manner.
“Melody, can you say hello to Kika?” Nick asked.
She lifted her head from her father’s neck to shyly peek at Kika, but that was all.
“She’s lovely,” Kika said, her eyes meeting Nick’s.
“Thank you.” Stunned by Kika’s own beauty, he nearly forgot to ask the questions that only seconds ago had been burning his mind: why was she waiting for him and how did she know Melody’s name?
As if she could read his mind, she said, “I recognize Melody from Glenna’s Playmates video. She said it was shot the day you enrolled Melody.”
“Ah.” He had completely forgotten about the waiver he had signed giving his permission for his daughter to be on the film.
“It’s because of Glenna’s video that I’m here.”
Puzzled, he wanted to ask her what she meant. He didn’t. He was having a difficult time forming any questions at all. He was distracted by the gentle swell of flesh at the neckline of her vest. At least his hormones were.
Finally, he managed to say, “I understand you’ve been waiting to see me.”
“Yes, you and Melody.” Again the little girl turned her head away shyly.
“Why?”
“Maybe we should sit down and I’ll explain?” Kika ushered him out of the office, past beanbag chairs and cots to one of the long, low tables against the wall.
Again Nick tried to pry Melody from his neck and put her on a chair beside him, but she refused to budge. To say he felt ridiculous sitting on a miniature chair was an understatement. He debated whether he should return to a standing position, but wasn’t sure he would be able to get back up without embarrassing himself even further—not with Melody clinging to him.
He couldn’t tell if the sparkle in Kika’s eye was humor or interest.
“Mr. Miller, have you ever heard of Fancy Furniture?”
“Yes, hasn’t everyone?”
“It’s an old, established name with a reputation for quality,” Kika said smoothly. “My grandmother has one of those big oak pedestal tables with the hand-carved chairs. You know, come to think of it, I’m staying at Granny Rose’s Bed-and-Breakfast and I’m pretty sure the bedroom set in the room I’m in is a Fancy, too.”
“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been to Granny Rose’s.”
She flashed him a little smile that he found extremely attractive, then said, “Do you have any Fancy furniture yourself?”
If he had, it had all been sold. He was making a fresh start. Besides, the house he would be moving into the first of the month came completely furnished.
“I don’t believe I do,” he answered.
“Me neither.”
“I think my grandmother had a few pieces,” he told her, wanting to be amenable.
“Yes, well, our grandmothers knew what quality furniture was. And that’s my point. Fancy has a wonderful reputation with the older segment of the population, but until recently, they haven’t been known for appealing to the younger generation. Young married couples with children usually inherit their Fancy pieces, rather than purchase them themselves. That’s why Fancy has decided to develop a whole new line of products specifically for couples in their twenties and thirties. Children’s furniture!” Kika’s hands moved as smoothly as a dancer’s. “You know, youth beds, cribs, wardrobes, desks, bunk beds—that sort of stuff.”
“And you want me to buy some of this new furniture?” he asked, thinking he should feel turned off by her sales pitch, but unable to muster any annoyance with the unwanted solicitation. Probably because she was so enthusiastic as she talked about the product. He liked the way her hands moved when she spoke.
“Oh, no. I’m not selling Fancy furniture—well, not in the literal sense, anyway.” She had a wonderful little laugh that caused his insides to tingle.
“So what’s your ‘un-literal’ sense?” he asked with a wink. Maybe he hadn’t lost his touch, after all, he thought as her eyes met his and he saw a sparkle of interest.
“I do work for Horace Fancy.”
“The president of Fancy Furniture?”
“Umm-hmm. I should explain.” She had a way of looking at him that made him feel as if she were a close friend. “To launch this new line of children’s products, Fancy is going to have a tremendous advertising campaign that will air nationally.”
“And you’re part of that advertising campaign?”
“It’s why I’m here in Tyler. I’m looking for the right person to help make Fa
ncy a well-known name in every family—not just our grandmothers’.”
“And how do you plan to do that, Ms. Mancini?” Nick asked.
“Oh, please. Call me Kika.”
“Very well, Kika. What does Fancy’s advertising campaign have to do with my daughter? Are you looking for a consumer test market or something?” He leaned closer to her, giving her his undivided attention.
“It’s the ‘or something,’” she said with a sly grin. She reached inside her briefcase and extracted a business card. “I’m a casting director, Mr. Miller, and I’ve been hired to find that one very special toddler who can win the hearts of mothers and fathers all across the country, a baby who will become such a well-known TV personality that the minute someone sees her picture they’ll think of Fancy furniture.”
Nick could only stare in disbelief. This woman couldn’t possibly think Melody was that baby? Yet he could see by the way she was eyeing his daughter that was exactly what she thought.
“The reason I’ve come to Tyler is because I think I might find that baby here. Of course, I won’t know for sure until I’ve conducted an audition, but judging by what I saw in Glenna’s video, I’m very optimistic.”
With a furrowed brow, Nick glanced at the neon-pink business card. Ms. Kika Mancini was in show business. If the fact that she didn’t like children hadn’t been enough to put the brakes on his hormones, her occupation should be.
He had left California to get away from people like Kika, people who thought that having a pretty face and getting in front of a camera were all that mattered in life. Never would he have imagined that Hollywood would follow him to Tyler, Wisconsin.
“It’s really a wonderful opportunity for any child, Mr. Miller,” she continued. “Fancy Furniture commercials will air frequently, which means the residuals from the television spot alone will be quite lucrative. Besides TV there will also be a print campaign. Your daughter could earn enough from this one booking to make a nice college nest egg.”