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Despite the rough start, as Sloane had predicted, D’Jean grew more relaxed around Melanie with each passing minute and within the hour they were playing ball out on the lawn. Of course, the game had them doing nothing more than sitting on the grass, facing each other, rolling a melon-sized ball back and forth. From time to time Thierry would ride over and regard them with obvious disdain. Still, Melanie had a wide smile on her face as she played with the toddler and D’Jean, he was chortling with glee.
When Jacqueline called them in for dinner forty minutes later it was a smiling Melanie who came in, holding a babbling boy in her arms. And after she’d cleaned him up and then strapped him into his high chair, he raised his hands up to her, clearly preferring to be in her arms than over in a chair all by himself.
“Aaw, he wants to sit on my lap,” she cooed, obviously pleased that he wanted to be with her. She looked over at Jacqueline. “May I?”
“Now, now. You have to be strong.” Jacqueline shook her head but she was smiling. “Don’t be fooled by that innocent look. If you have him in your lap while you’re eating, before you know it all your food will end up on the floor. Trust me. I speak from experience.”
Melanie seemed to accept that but she still looked wistfully back at D’Jean, obviously enamored by his cherubic charm.
“What did I miss?” They all looked up as Patrick came into the dining room holding a tub of ice cream in one hand and a cake box in the other.
“Sorry I’m late. The guys wouldn’t let me leave the soccer game.”
“They wouldn’t let you leave or you couldn’t tear yourself away?” Jacqueline gave him a teasing glare. “Anyway, you made it just in time. Leave those on the counter and go clean up.”
After apologizing again to his visitors, Patrick went off to the powder room then deposited his gangly frame in the chair at the head of the table. “Cool,” he said, grinning like a little kid. “Fried chicken and corn on the cob. Looks so good I could eat it all.”
Jacqueline rolled her eyes but the glow in her cheeks made it obvious that she was pleased with his praise.
After that they settled down to a delicious dinner, with the children entertaining them with their chatter and Patrick giving them a detailed account of his performance on the soccer field – a far more detailed account than they would have wished, so much so that Sloane eventually cut him off midstream.
“Yeah, so you want to hear about my day?” he asked as he dipped up a spoon of pistachio ice cream.
“No, not really,” Patrick sneered.
“Okay, then.” Sloane gave him a pointed look and Patrick’s sheepish grin said he got the point.
“Oh, shut up and eat your ice cream,” he muttered under his breath, a rebellious smile forming on his lips.
Thierry gasped and his eyes grew wide. “Mommy, Daddy said a bad word.”
“Daddy.” Jacqueline’s brows fell.
Patrick shook his head. “They don’t hear you when you tell them to pick up their toys,” he grumbled, “but they always hear what they’re not supposed to.”
Jacqueline gave him a stern look. “Apologize.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry, Thierry. Daddy didn’t mean to use naughty words, okay?”
“Okay, Daddy.” Thierry, looking suitably appeased, picked up his spoon and began eating again.
Melanie looked on, obviously amused by the antics of Patrick and his family, and then her eyes took on a faraway look that told Sloane she was busy daydreaming about her own future family, one that would have at least one child, probably more.
He was just about to reach over and touch her hand, just to let her know he was privy to her thoughts, when the doorbell rang.
Jacqueline and Patrick glanced at each other, their looks quizzical.
“Are we expecting someone?” Patrick asked.
“Not me,” Jacqueline said with a shrug then she started to rise. “I’ll go see-”
“No, I’ll get it.” Patrick put up a hand, stopping her, then he got up from around the table. He glanced over at Sloane and Melanie. “Excuse me a minute.”
A few seconds later they heard the sounds of laughter and one of the voices was a woman's.
“Hey, look who’s here.” Patrick came bounding into the dining room and close behind him was a woman, tall and dark-haired and sophisticated. “And just in time for dinner, too.”
Sloane felt a shock run through him. Zena. What was she doing here?
He kept his face passive as he stared at her even though he felt like he’d just been kicked in the gut. There, not six feet away, stood the first woman he’d ever made love to.
“Zena,” he said, as he rose to his feet. “This is a surprise. What brings you back to Montreal?" He kept his tone deliberately relaxed but inside he was anything but. Over a decade had passed since his last contact with Zena but he could have played back that final conversation word for word. “Get out of my life,” he’d told her. “You disgust me.”
But now she was back.
“Sloane, it’s been too long,” she gushed, ignoring his outstretched hand and stepping forward to embrace him. Then she leaned back to gaze up at him. “And you don’t look a day older than the last time I saw you. How do you men do it?” She gave a brassy laugh then stepped away and turned to Patrick and Jacqueline.
“For ‘Taboo’ we’re shooting a scene in Montreal. Can you imagine how thrilled I was when I heard we’d be in my hometown?” Her eyes flashed as she gave them a movie star-white smile. “So I decided to pay a surprise visit to my old school friends.”
“It’s a surprise, all right.” Jacqueline’s face said she didn’t quite know what to make of the sudden visit but then she masked it with a smile as she got up. “But it’s good to see you, Zena.” She waved her hand at an empty place at the table. “Have a seat. I’ll set a place for you.”
“No, no.” The unexpected guest lifted her perfectly manicured hands and shook her head. “I have to get back to the set by five. My limo’s waiting outside.” Then she gave a trilling laugh. “But I’ve been away so long, I couldn’t be back in Montreal and not drop in on you guys. We were all best friends, remember? We were a team.”
“Yeah,” Patrick said, his tone nostalgic. “Those were the days.”
“Well, guys, it was good to lay eyes on you again but I’ve got to run. Doctor’s visit, you know.” Her eyes swept the table, over the children who she didn’t acknowledge then to Melanie, where her gaze paused. And then she glanced away, a tight smile on her lips. “Nice seeing you again, guys,” she said as she turned. “Sloane, why don’t you walk me to the door?”
Now what was Zena up to? She hadn’t acknowledged Melanie’s presence even though he was sure she knew who she was. They’d parted on less than amicable terms and now she wanted him to escort her out? She was definitely up to something.
He did walk her to the door, where she turned and gave him a sly smile. “It’s not over till it’s over,” she whispered, and then she was sashaying down the driveway to her waiting car.
Sloane frowned. He didn’t know what to make of that, but coming from Zena it was definitely a threat.
He closed the door and returned to the dining room where the others had already turned their attention back to their meal. All except Melanie. She was staring at him, her eyes huge in her face, her fingers clutching the napkin in her hand.
He could see the worry in her eyes and he knew that as soon as they got home that night he’d have some explaining to do.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Melanie was seething. How dare they? If Sloane had wanted to flirt with his ex he didn’t have to do it right in front of her face. The cad. And she knew exactly who the woman was. It was an older face, and a lot harder, but it was the same face she’d seen in the high school cafeteria when she’d been fourteen. It was the girl Sloane had been with that day she saw him from across the gym-sized room.
Obviously they’d been involved, and even more obvious, there was still something going on between them…even though he was now married to someone else.
With a huff, Melanie folded her arms across her chest and stared straight ahead, refusing to respond to Sloane’s questions. She was not going to speak to him and he could talk till he was blue, she would not give him the satisfaction of a response.
For the entire journey back to the house Melanie remained silent and when he pulled the car to a halt in front of the steps she flung the door open and hopped out before he could come around to help her. She didn’t want his conversation and she definitely didn’t want his help.
“Melanie.” He barked out her name as she flew up the steps and headed for the front door. “Wait.”
