The Keeping(45)

Ryne blinked and raised his eyebrows.

“That, you insufferable jerk, is how most people start out an evening. It’s called polite conversation.” Mel chastised him, not about to put up with his rude behaviour.

Slowly, he took another swig of beer before responding. “Well, you seem to know how it’s done all on your own, so why should I bother?”

“Because...” Mel stopped herself and snapped her mouth shut. He was doing it again. Getting her all worked up with his little games. She wouldn’t get caught by that again. Tonight, she was a professional. “Never mind.” Settling back in her seat, she forced a polite smile on to her face and said nothing.

Minutes ticked by and silence reigned over the table. Ryne sipped his beer and Mel stared at the TV trying to appear as if the newscast, about a now disgraced sports figure, held her riveted. She kept her hands tightly clasped in her lap and fought the urge to fidget. Finally, relief came. With her peripheral vision, Mel saw Ryne signal the server. When the woman approached the table, Mel turned ready to greet her as a long lost relative.

It wasn’t a long lost relative, but at that moment, Mel was sure the woman was the next best thing.

“Hey, it’s Mel!” The server grinned and Mel grinned back, pleased to see a friendly face. It was Lucy, the waitress at the diner from the previous day.

“Mel?” Ryne looked at her incredulously. “That’s the name of a guy who comes to fix your toilet.”

“No it’s not. It’s a perfectly respectable nickname for Melody.” Mel defended her name hotly while Lucy lightly hit him on the head with the menus she was holding.

“Ouch! Cut that out, Lucy.” Ryne grabbed the woman’s wrist and took the menus from her. “That’s no way to treat a customer. You keep that up and I’ll complain to Armand.”

“Armand won’t do anything; I have him wrapped around my little finger. You just be nice to my friend, Mel.” Lucy didn’t seem in the least worried by Ryne’s threat. She pulled her wrist out of his hand, planted a quick kiss on his cheek, and sashayed away, calling over her shoulder. “If he gives you any trouble, you come see me, Mel.”

“Thanks, I will.” Mel felt considerably better after the exchange and turned to face Ryne. This time she was the one smirking. Knowing that she had an ally in the building gave her more confidence. He was staring at her again, but his expression seemed friendlier than it had when she arrived.

“Mel.” He seemed to be trying the name out as he looked at her. Finally, he shook his head. “Nope. You just don’t look like a Mel. To me, you’re a Melody.”

“You and my mother.” Mel sighed.

“Your mother?”

“Yeah. My mother’s sort of a free-spirited, hippie type. She was going through a song writing stage when I was born and decided to call me Melody.”

“I like it.”

Mel blinked, surprised by the sincerity of his comment. “Well...that’s good, I guess.” She giggled as a thought struck her. “I suppose I should be thankful that Mom wasn’t in her sewing and quilting stage at the time or I might have been called bobbin or thimble.”

Ryne’s rich chuckle ran over her like a warm breeze and his countenance suddenly seemed less imposing. Mel felt the tension easing in her shoulders and she smiled as she looked at the man seated across from her. Here was the man that Beth and Ruth had been talking about—the sexy, charming heartthrob that had put the female population of Stump River into a stir. His eyes were twinkling and his grin showed off white teeth, which contrasted wonderfully with the stubbly shadow that was appearing on his lower face. It was enough to melt the coldest of hearts; Mel felt hers give an extra thump and suddenly her mouth seemed dry.

Thankfully, Lucy returned with cutlery and glasses of water. As the waitress took their orders, Mel had a chance to compose herself. Ryne might be hot, but he also seemed arrogant and she had no intention of feeding his already inflated ego. Having managed to get herself under control, and with the ice broken between them, they settled down to some friendly banter as they watched TV and ate. Mel made her pitch as to the benefits of an interview and Ryne asked friendly questions about her life. By the time they had finished eating, Mel decided that Ryne could be reasonably polite if he put his mind to it. Maybe interviewing him wouldn’t be quite the ordeal she’d imagined it would be.

When he excused himself from the table, she watched him cross the room, her chin propped in her hand. He really did have a nice tight rear, she thought to herself.

“Mighty fine butt, eh?” Lucy nudged Mel, shaking her out of her trance. The waitress had come to clear the table and must have noticed the direction of Mel’s gaze.