Scrambled Babies (34 page)

She stepped in front of Steve.  “I’m getting off the next time this door opens.”

The elevator stopped at the next floor.

“Paeton!  Wait!  Please!”

She started to exit the car, but Steve grabbed her arm.  The elevator door closed.

“Take your hands off me.  I never want you to touch me again.”  She thrust her free hand toward the button pad.  “I mean it.  I’ll ring the alarm.”

Steve dropped her arm.  “Fine,” he said, resolution in his voice.  “I guess I have to get you undeniable proof.”

The elevator opened at the next floor.

“I don’t care what you do.  Just leave me alone.  For good!”

Paeton stepped out and held the door open to deliver her farewell.  “Good-bye, Kaselman!”  And his name came out as if she were trying to rid it from her soul.  “The next time we see each other will be in court.  Don’t try playing this elevator game ever again.”

As she released the door, Steve stepped halfway from the car to block the doors from closing. 

Paeton held up both hands as if to deflect a blow.  “Ever again!” 

She turned her back on him and marched unsteadily toward the elevator call button to summon another car.  She vowed she would never let Steve Kaselman have any effect on her again.  She would marry Fred.  She would start a normal life once more. 

Her elevator did not come.  She knew Steve was still blocking the doors because she did not hear them close.  She felt his eyes bearing down on her, but he said nothing.  She half wished he would come up behind her and take her in his arms.  She quashed that self-destructive impulse. 

Where is the damned elevator?
  A burning bored into her back from those demon eyes as she waited for what seemed an eternity.  She shook her shoulders as if that would also shake off the demons.

But she knew the truth.  She would have to do much more than shake her shoulders to dispel the force Steve Kaselman would always have on her soul.

#

Steve swung out through the doors of Fred’s building.  Seeing Paeton in the elevator had left him sick to his stomach.  First, he had made no progress breaking down Paeton’s determination to eliminate him from her life.  Second, he was probably compounding her determination by moving into the Alice house tomorrow.  What made him crazy was that he could do nothing more to prove his innocence to her until he got back from his three-day tour in Detroit covering the Tigers.  Thank god Greta could handle the move with no trouble while he was out of town.

He slowed his gait, contemplating the situation.  Yes, he knew what he must do.  He would have plenty of free time after the Pirates gig to scope out his mission. 

He stopped short, his heart picking up its pace in response to what lay ahead.  He brooded grimly to himself as he started formulating a reckless, but totally necessary, plan.  He knew, should the plan fail anywhere along the way, he would probably land in jail, lose his job, and worst of all, lose Paeton forever!

#

Steve was attempting to get comfortable in Ollie’s office.  The sickness over Paeton had lingered the three days on the road, and now Ollie was adding to his nausea.  He had called Steve in Detroit and made ominous insinuations, but he wouldn’t divulge specifics over the phone.  Steve hated meetings like this.  They reminded him of being called down to the principal’s office. 

If the fiasco on the elevator with Paeton was any indication of how his life was playing out, Steve was certain more bad news was on the horizon.

Ollie finally entered his office.  “Steve.  Good morning.  Good morning.  Sorry to keep you waiting.”  His sappy, pasted-on smile revealed he wasn’t sorry at all.  He extended his hand for another phony, firm handshake.

“Hi, Ollie.  How’s it going?”  Steve hunkered back into his chair after standing to shake Ollie’s hand.

“Well, as far as you’re concerned, not good.  I’m sure you’ve heard about what the SMACK people are doing.”

Steve knew something about this loony group from Paeton’s experience.  But he wasn’t sure what it had to do with him.  “Well, I guess, yes.”

“They are asking for a national boycott of ComfyDype sales.  They are siding with Paeton McPhilomy in her cause against you.”

Steve jumped up.  “What?  I don’t know why Paeton is suing me in the first place.  It’s all lies.”  He started pacing around the room, going around behind Ollie’s chair.

Ollie swiveled in his seat, whipping his head around to maintain eye contact.  “Lies or not, our sales are going down.  You’ve got to make a public settlement of this situation.  And quickly!”

“I’ve tried.  She knows it’s lies.  She won’t let me off the hook.” 

“Steve, the point is, from a marketing perspective, we can’t continue our relationship with you under these circumstances.  Every mom in the country, single or otherwise, is switching to TidyDipy diapers.  Unless Paeton McPhilomy and SMACK forgive you or forget you, we will have to go into contract termination.  You understand.”

“Yes, I understand.  I guess I’m not fit to be the nation’s Mr. Mom, huh?”

“Yes, we may be looking for another one.  Sorry, but business is business.” 

Ollie didn’t get up, but Steve knew the meeting was over.  “Yes, business is definitely business.  Well, Ollie, see you around the diaper aisle—or not!  No hard feelings.  Honest.”  Steve rose and departed without offering to shake hands, his mind already focused on his inevitable task.  After all, what did he have to lose?

After Steve left Ollie’s office, he drifted down the street until he was across from the building where
In Your Face
had its offices.  He knew exactly where the windows were from a visit soon after he and Paeton had made the filthy tabloid’s front page.  He lingered a moment and stared at the set of windows on the twentieth floor.  On the other side of those windows was a tape.  A tape of the cell phone conversation he and Maury had right after the story broke about the scrambled babies.  Only Steve hadn’t recorded the call—Steedly Black had!

Steve had to get his hands on that tape to prove to Paeton that he hadn’t betrayed her.  That
In Your Face
had doctored the tape to make it look as if he had.  But how could he ever get that tape?  Steedly Black would never turn it over to him.

Now Paeton was suing him for millions.  He knew she knew she could never win anything.  There was no substantive basis for a lawsuit.  She was only trying to hurt him.  And he understood. 

The sad truth was that he loved Paeton McPhilomy totally and completely.  And he believed she felt the same way about him.  He was the one who had been careless about letting his conversation with Maury be taped and thus shattering his relationship with her.  He was the one who must make them whole again.  The only way back into Paeton’s heart was for her to hear that tape.

He jammed his hands in his pockets and strode determinedly down the street.  This was it.  Tonight.  Tonight, he would risk losing everything he had to win the only thing he wanted—the heart of Paeton McPhilomy!

#

Steve’s stunt on the elevator dogged Paeton all day and was still invading her thoughts late that night.  She had tried hard, but could not shut him and those incredible eyes out of her mind.  He was such a jerk.  But such a beautiful jerk.  The dangerous flame of desire that came in concert with her thoughts had not been extinguished.  She even felt herself sweetly aching in forbidden places. 

Now, when most people had long since finished a day’s work, Paeton hadn’t even begun.  She used her mouse to paint the last five pages she had composed and hit the delete key.  She was losing patience with herself.  She wasn’t writing from scratch, for heaven’s sake.  There was the book she had to use as her guide sitting right on the desk with her monitor. Once again, she saw that the book was four hundred pages; the movie could be only two hours. 

She sighed heavily.  She knew the writing wasn’t really the problem.  Steve Kaselman was the problem.

She checked the clock.  Did it really say two in the morning?  She wasn’t writing; she wasn’t sleeping; she wasn’t eating.  She was short with the children.  She was on the verge of feeling sorry for herself when the realization surfaced that the only way
Steve
was going to go away was if she married someone else.  Kaselman was always going to be around somewhere.  But as long as she was a single mom, she was still available to him.  In both their eyes.

“Ha!”  Her laugh was harsh.  Mocking.  How ironic that the great romance writer was living herself right into a corner the way her heroines did.  Her heroines always seemed to fall for the wrong man.  Of course, in her stories they somehow found a way out and lived happily ever after.

Happily ever after!  Right!
  She rose to get another cup of coffee.  But Paeton was living in reality.  She was the author of her own fate.  There was no way she could write her way out of this “wrong man!”

She returned to her computer.  She held the mug tightly with both hands, seeking the warmth of the fresh pour.  But the heat was no comfort to her heart.  It flinched at the words she had uttered to Steve in the elevator:  “I am going to marry Fred.”  She had spoken them hatefully to hurt Steve. But marrying Fred seemed like the only solution.  She knew he would marry her in a New York second—or an L.A. second, as it were.  He would be kind and considerate.  Like Kevin.  She and Fred would have a comfortable marriage.  No dangerous demons.  No orbiting around yet-uncharted planets.  But marriage to Fred would be hard-core reality.  Like her marriage to Kevin.  Normal.  Steady.  Comfortable.  Predictable.  She flinched again—boring!

Nevertheless, marriage to Fred would offer her the freedom to write again.  To have a life with a pattern, a routine she could rely on. 

Time.  Time was all Paeton needed to leave behind all the feelings and hopes Steve Kaselman had brought her.  They would both be better off getting older without each other.  Because, although they unquestionably made beautiful music together, Steve would always be the jock, who, in the final chapter, would let her down and betray her every dream.

Paeton stared at her blank screen. Her book sat fat and unreachable on the desk.  What time was it?  She looked at the clock.  She knew what time it was.  It was time to make a normal life.  Yes.  After sunup, she would invite Fred to dinner.  She would begin her campaign to marry him and put Steve far behind her.  She was certain this was the answer.

She shivered. Strange, the room was far from cold. 

#

“Fred, let’s have dinner tonight.” 

Paeton was on the phone at Alejandro’s salon, waiting for Kiki to begin her haircut.  She had decided that “new” would resolve her equivocation.  She would be able to look in the mirror and see a “new Paeton”!  Now when she looked in the mirror, she saw dark circles under her eyes—signs of stress in the “old Paeton.”

“Sounds great, Paeton.  I have a meeting until eight.  How about we meet at Chez d’Paris around then?” Fred answered enthusiastically.

Chez d’Paris!  She felt instantly delicious and frightened.  Was it wise to launch the new Paeton where the old one had been seduced into self-destruction?  Fear reflected back from the mirror.  “Chez d’Paris.  Eight o’clock.  Great!  I can’t wait to see you.  Bye, honey.”  Paeton tried to sound bubbly as she hung up.

After spending two hours with Kiki getting her new ’do exactly right, she headed to Montalini’s boutique for a new wardrobe.  Tonight the new Paeton would wow Fred.

Paeton, sporting her new look, breezed through the entrance into Montalini’s.  Did she feel herself gaining momentum?