Enticing An Angel (2 page)

Melanie soon returned and the occupants
looked up to the newest member of the room. Michael was able to get
a better look at the woman and had to approve. He had a good eight
inches on her, but she was light of foot, had a quirky smile, and
seemed to almost dance. If he hadn't seen her trying to close the
door with her foot a few minutes before, he could almost believe
that she was barefoot; she just seemed to have a quality that
demanded one should walk around without shoes.

"You wanted something else?" she asked Mr.
Lane.

"Yes, Melanie, coffee please. Bring me sugar
packets and cream as well," he said.

"I'll have the same, Melanie," Jennifer
chimed in as she stared at some legal document. "Black coffee, and
bring sugar and cream."

"Make that three, Melanie," Mrs. Angel said
as well. "Black coffee, with sugar packets and cream."

Michael raised a brow and looked at his
mother. She usually drank her coffee black, and when she didn't,
she only added cream. Something was odd, and he couldn't quite
place it. When Melanie looked at him with expectant eyes, he could
only reply with some confusion.

"Oh, I'm fine, thanks," he said casually, and
waved his hands to signal that he didn't want a drink.

After Melanie left, he had to ask his mother
about her odd order.

"Melanie is a sweetheart but a little…" she
paused and didn't want to say anything improper. There was no need
as Jennifer spoke up.

"Flaky," the paralegal said while still
studying her papers.

"Well, she is a sweetheart," Mrs. Angel said
in reply to Jennifer's comment. "However, she does have a habit of
getting confused. So, it's much easier to just order the same thing
and make the coffee to our own liking."

"Ah," was the only thing Michael could say in
reply. "Is there a restroom?" he asked as everyone began to return
to their respective documents.

Jennifer didn't look up but gave him
directions. Michael watched her as she did so, and then thanked her
when she was finished. She didn't respond to his comments with any
real emotion; she just continued to analyze her document as he got
up and left the room

Heading down the hallway, Michael was forced
to stop and laugh. Just off the way was a little kitchenette, and
Melanie was busy making coffee or a mess; Michael couldn't tell
which. Her back was turned to him, and he knew she hadn't heard him
approach, nor had she heard him laugh; her Smartphone was in her
hand, she had ear buds in her ears, and she was bouncing her head
back and forth while tapping her feet to the left and right. For
the life of him, Michael couldn't remember ever seeing a woman
behaving so carefree. The fact that she was in a lawyer's office
just made the scene all the more cute.

Feeling a bit mischievous, Michael tapped her
on the shoulder, and Melanie turned around quickly while removing
one of her ear buds.

"Oh, hi," she said, and then stared at him as
if wondering who he was.

The first thought that came to Michael's mind
was to wonder why she had not asked what he wanted. Most people,
after being tapped on the shoulder, would want to know what the
person desired. This idea didn't seem to occur to Melanie; she just
stared at him, waiting for him to say something.

"What are you listening to," he finally asked
with a smile.

"It's Steampunk," she replied.

"Hmm, I've never heard of them," Michael
stated thoughtfully.

Melanie's eyes widened slightly and her face
turned odd. She looked at Michael like he was the idiot.

"Steampunk is not a
band
, it's a
style
," she said, and when Michael became confused, she
smiled and shoved an ear bud in his face.

"Here," she said.

Michael looked at the small hand offering him
what was most likely some germ infested listening device, and an
image of a schoolyard friend offering ABC gum came to mind.
However, when Melanie wiggled her hand back and forth as if to say
she didn't have all day, Michael took the ear bud and placed it in
his ear. It was only a second later when he realized he could have
just held it near his ear, but Melanie didn't seem to care, and she
moved in close so the cord wouldn't stretch.

The music that assailed Michael was odd, and
Melanie took a moment to cycle through variations. She found a
light and festive piece, and Michael could understand the allure.
She then changed tracks and odd sounds assaulted him.

"What do you think?" she asked with a
smile.

"I think there's a beat in there somewhere,"
he replied with a teasing look.

Melanie eyed him warily, and Michael found
himself hoping she wouldn't understand his comment. Whether she did
or not, she didn't admit to it. However, she did take her ear bud
back.

"Well, I better get this coffee made," she
said. Whether or not she was insulted remained to be seen, but she
still smiled at him, and Michael returned her smile before his face
contorted and became oddly confused.

"Aren't you supposed to put the pot under the
spout?" he asked as he looked past her into the kitchenette.

Melanie turned to the coffeemaker that was in
the process of brewing. The pot, which was supposed to be in
position, was on the counter doing nothing but mocking them.

"Oh, damn," she said as she grabbed the
container and put in under the spout. "Thanks for that," she called
back to him.

"Not a problem," he replied with a smile as
he left her to clean up a small mess.

It wasn’t long before Michael was back in the
meeting and going over his mother's estate—it was still boring. He
was pleased when Melanie came in to deliver coffee and cream. Each
person got a cup, the cup was filled, and then a tray was left with
cream and sugar. She appeared very proficient and Michael smiled,
even more so when he saw those ear buds hanging out from her
pocket. Before leaving, Melanie turned to him.

"Are you sure you don't want anything?" she
asked him.

Michael was about to shake his head when his
wicked nature took hold.

"Actually, I'll have a half-caf, half-decaf,
with one sugar, one artificial sweetener, and non-fat whip," he
said while holding in his smile.

Melanie nodded to him as if that was the
simplest thing in the world and left the room, but not before
Michael felt a sharp pain to his shin.

Looking across the table, he could see that
his mother was not a happy camper; and her kick had been hard
enough to demonstrate her anger. Her jaw was set and she glared at
him. Michael could just about guess her thoughts. He was having
fun, and that fun was causing his mother some embarrassment.
However, it ended up working for the best, and Mrs. Angel actually
calmed when Jennifer could be heard chuckling.

"It's your funeral, Mr. Angel," the young
woman said.

"Oh, call him Michael, and you can call me
Susan," she said. Jennifer nodded and returned to her
paperwork.

"I didn't mean to cause any problems,"
Michael stated to the room.

"Oh, not to worry, Michael," Thomas said as
he passed a document to him. "Melanie is a good person and the
daughter of a long time friend. She is actually fairly smart, and
when I can get her to focus, she does fine work."

"Ah, well she doesn't seem to quite fit in
here," Michael stated.

His mother glared at him, and Michael
couldn't dodge another kick to the shin. If the other two occupants
of the room were aware of the physical abuse happening under the
table, they didn't show it.

"Yeah, well that's me being kind to an old
friend," Thomas said. "Her father seems to think that a serious
environment will help her mature." Thomas handed another document
over, and Mrs. Angel dared Michael to speak. He took that dare.

"Mature? She looks like she's thirty. It's
been my experience that if a person hasn't matured by this point in
life, they may never mature," Michael said in all seriousness as he
took the document.

Thomas just shrugged and didn't bother to
counter the logic. Instead, he turned the topic over to all manner
of boring items—a durable power of attorney, medical release forms,
bank authorizations, etc.

Melanie eventually returned and this time had
one ear bud in her ear as she placed a cup before Michael. He was
tempted to grab the other bud that dangled near him, but decided he
didn't want to be that mischievous. Besides, the string that was
coming out of his coffee cup and wrapping around the handle had him
worried. For her part, Melanie barely acknowledged any of them; she
was too deep in thought as she left the room. Michael picked up his
cup and took a sip.

"How's your coffee?" his mother asked in a
slight mocking tone.

Michael nodded his head and proudly
proclaimed that it was the best tea he had ever had. He then
smiled. His mother did not.

The meeting concluded satisfactorily and
Thomas assured Michael that he would not have to return. Mrs. Angel
tried to insist that Michael return and even hinted at getting
Jennifer's cell number in case he had questions. Michael just
rolled his eyes and politely asked Jennifer for her contact
details; it was a safer tactic than ignoring his mother and having
to deal with her nagging at a later time.

"Oh, you can simply call the office and
they'll patch you through," she said. She then found a card in a
pocket and handed it to him. He glanced at it; it was as he
expected— plain and simple.

Very professional
, he thought.

Those thoughts didn't bother him as he made
his way to the restroom for one last trip; Jennifer was pleasant
but she held no allure for him. Michael was a professional himself,
and his office building was filled with women similar to Jennifer,
and few of those women interested him either, except for the
occasional sexual partner, but even that was difficult to deal with
as he often discovered those partners had a larger interest in him
than he had in them. So, in an effort to keep the peace, he kept
his dating to a minimum and his sexual exploits even more so.

As he passed Melanie, who was dancing to her
tunes again, he paused, smiled, and tapped her on her shoulder. She
turned to him and waited; he understood her odd stare and didn't
let her wait long.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" he asked.

"Why do you want to know?" she replied.

"Why does any man want to know the answer to
that question?" he replied with a wicked smile. She was amusing him
and he didn’t hide that fact.

"Because they want to have sex with her and
don't want a pissed-off boyfriend hunting them down," she replied
easily.

"Ah, well let's start with dinner and see how
it goes," Michael chuckled.

Melanie raised her left eyebrow and looked at
him carefully. Her initial glance was to determine if he was
serious. After that, she gave him a good look from his shoes to his
slacks and then his entire form. Michael felt like a piece of meat
being eyed at a butcher shop. When Melanie shrugged her shoulders
and said "Okay", he didn’t know if he should be flattered or
insulted. She’d been very nonchalant; almost as if to say, "You'll
do."

"Great," Michael said as he pulled out his
phone. "How about Friday night?"

"Oh, just call me and we can set something
up," she replied.

"I don't work like that. My schedule can get
busy and I work by appointments," Michael stopped suddenly, shook
his head, and chuckled. "That sounds bad. I just meant to say that
I have learned to book a meeting when I have a chance. So, I would
like a definite time and place."

"Well, I'm more of a free spirit than that,"
Melanie replied.

"I've noticed," Michael said with a
chuckle.

"And just what do you mean by that?" Melanie
eyed him skeptically.

Michael put his hands up in defense, "Nothing
cruel I swear. I just noticed that you let the spirit move you and
you may be forgetful."

Melanie came in closer to him and put her
finger in his chest for emphasis. "That's why I said to call me. If
I'm available then we'll go out. You'll just have to suffer without
a definite appointment," she said as she pulled her hand back and
put her fingers in the shape of quotes to accentuate the word
"appointment."

"All right, how about a compromise. Would
tonight after work be okay for you? That way I get my appointment,"
he said using his fingers as quotes, "and you get your free spirit
fix by making plans on a whim."

Melanie thought about it for a moment, and
the idea seemed to please her.

"All right, meet me here at five," she said.
"I don't live far from here. You can walk me home, and we can get
something to eat on the way."

"Okay, but you should still give me your
number just in case something comes up," Michael said.

Melanie nodded her head in agreement and then
rooted around her body for a pen. Michael watched in confusion and
amusement as she patted herself, and when she came up empty, she
began to pat Michael as if they were old friends. He could only
watch her with amazement, and was unable to help her or stop her.
Eventually she shook her head with frustration, headed off to an
office, returned shortly with a pen, grabbed his hand, and wrote
her number on his palm.

He continued to be amused and let this little
pipsqueak of a woman handle him in any manner that she wished. He
even noted that she took the time to write her name, as if he would
forget whose number was on his hand. She even dotted the 'I' with a
little heart.

Of course
, he thought.

She stared at him when she was done, and
Michael had to bite his lower lip in an attempt to keep his mouth
shut. It didn't work, and his logical mind made him ask a daring
question.

"Isn't your cell a Smartphone?" he
smiled.