A Creed in Stone Creek - Linda Lael Miller [64]
Melissa pressed her back teeth together, but kept smiling. Andrea’s timing was priceless. “Go,” she said.
Andrea blushed slightly. “It’s just that there was a cancellation at the dentist’s office today. If I go in for my cleaning now, I won’t have to do it Saturday morning.”
Melissa glared.
Andrea ducked out.
Adelaide, in no hurry to get back to her receptionist’s job, apparently, took a loudly appreciative sip from her coffee cup. “Did anyone mention how grateful we are, Melissa—the members of the Parade Committee, I mean—that you were willing to step in and take over for poor Ona Frame?”
“Now you’re just trying to butter me up,” Melissa said, smiling again. Irritated though she was, she liked Adelaide Hillingsley, and that was that.
Adelaide cast an eloquent glance toward the place where Andrea had stood just a moment before. “It seems to be the most effective way to deal with you,” she replied, looking pleased with herself. “This job has made all the difference in the world to that girl. Heaven only knows what might have happened to her if she hadn’t had the good fortune to wind up in Stone Creek.”
“Right about now,” Melissa confided brightly, “I wouldn’t mind throttling her.”
Adelaide took another drink of coffee, raised her eyebrows slightly. After swallowing, she ventured thoughtfully, “I hear she’s dating that Cahill boy. Seems to me folks ought to be more concerned about that than whether or not any of the parade floats are festooned with toilet paper.”
Melissa leaned forward in her chair. “The tissue issue,” she said, “will have to be settled by the committee. I want no part of it.”
“But you’re the chairperson,” Adelaide said.
Thanks to Tom Parker, Melissa thought.
“I’m also the county prosecutor,” she said.
“Then we’d better call a special meeting and settle the matter,” Adelaide decided, in her take-charge way. “How does tonight sound? We might be able to get the community room at Creekside Academy, but I’m pretty sure the quilting club’s already reserved it and, besides, your place is central.”
Here it was, Melissa reflected. An emergency meeting of the Parade Committee. Just the excuse—however thin—she needed to get out of being alone with Steven Creed in the close and luxurious confines of Brad’s former tour bus.
Except that she didn’t want to get out of it, fool that she was.
“I’m afraid I have other plans,” she said. “But feel free to call a meeting anyway. Naturally, I’ll go along with whatever the rest of you decide, as long as there’s a consensus.”
“Does this have something to do with that Creed fellow?” Adelaide asked bluntly. There was a twinkle in her eyes. “First supper, then lunch. My, my. It would seem you’re over Dan Guthrie at last, and none too soon, either.”
“I’ve been ‘over’ Dan Guthrie for a long time,” Melissa said evenly.
And it was true. She still missed his kids, though. Missed the life she’d expected to have.
How crazy was that?
Adelaide gave a girlish giggle, set her coffee cup down on Melissa’s desk with a thump, and rose from her chair. “And it’s none of my business,” she chimed sunnily. “I could get you the instructions for my niece’s toilet-paper wedding dress, if you want.”
“Thanks,” Melissa said. “But I won’t be needing one of those real soon.” She stood up, too, and walked Adelaide all the way to the corridor.
As soon as Adelaide had trundled off down the hall and outside, into the parking lot, Melissa turned and strode toward Tom’s office.
He was sitting at his desk, with his feet up, studying the contents of a manila file folder.
“I resign!” Melissa announced summarily.
“From what?” Tom asked, dropping his feet to the floor and standing.
“From the damn Parade Committee!”
Elvis, sprawled on his side over by the water cooler, gave a concerned little whine.
Tom chuckled. “I never figured you for a quitter,” he said, folding his arms.
Melissa knew he was playing her, but her cheeks went hot with indignation anyway. “Well, maybe you’d better just ‘figure’ again, bucko,” she