CHAPTER ONE

A tear slid down Melissa Malden's cheek. She swiped it away as she sat in her Escort and glared at the Lovin' Arms Apartments office and clubhouse. Light from an April sun, rising behind her, highlighted peeling, faded paint. What had she gotten herself into? She rubbed her right shoulder. It still ached from when Carleton Chase twisted her arm and demanded she give in to his sexual demands.

She sagged into the car seat, picked up the Lovin' Arms brochure she had been given in Chicago and looked at the shiny new clubhouse pictured there. It was a pleasing beige with dark brown trim. The building in the photo was fronted by brilliant flowers. Nothing but dead weeds in front of the place now.

And the location. The brochure said Naperton, in central Illinois. Actually the complex was five miles outside Naperton and surrounded by farm fields. Were the apartment buildings as run down as the clubhouse? Would she have any protection out here if Carleton Chase found her? She shuddered. If he did she was afraid she would kill him this time if he didn't kill her first. She drove around the clubhouse. Dead leaves and other debris filled a swimming pool behind it. Screeching tires jerked her attention back to the road. A red convertible raced toward her. She braced herself and squeezed her eyes shut as she pushed frantically on the brake pedal. Tires stopped squealing. Silence. She opened her eyes.

The convertible had stopped inches from the front of her car. She took a deep breath, sighed, folded her arms over the steering wheel, and lowered her head. A moment later a voice that seemed to rumble up from the earth asked, "Are you all right?"

She looked up into a man’s dark, concerned eyes and his tanned face. Heavy black eyebrows arched below black untamed hair.

Why was this fool driving so fast when the posted speed limit, according to the sign nearby, was twenty-five miles an hour.

"What, who, I mean ... you were speeding. You nearly killed me," Melissa managed.

"You weren't looking where you were going. You were in my lane. Are you okay?"

The man's broad shoulders and chest muscles threatened to break the confines of a white T-shirt. Bulging biceps strained the sleeves. He towered over her. She felt dizzy. She wished the car door was open so she could escape.

"Want to get out of the car? See if anything is broken?"

He opened the door, held her under the left arm, and lifted her off the seat. He smelled of soap, as if he'd just taken a shower. She imagined water cascading off his massive chest, down past his flat stomach, and... She shook her head, looked up, and said, "I seem to be all right. Let go of me."

"No problem," he said. "I've got to get going then, if you're okay. Sorry I was driving so fast. I was in a hurry and didn't expect anyone around at this hour. If you're here to rent an apartment you'll have to come back about nine. Our new manager is supposed to show up today. She should be here by then."

He backed the convertible and drove slowly around her. A huge leather golf bag filled with clubs sat on the back seat. Its white leather matched the upholstery. The convertible roared out of sight as soon as it reached the country road. Melissa backed her car to in front of the clubhouse and sat there for a moment before digging into her purse to get the keys she had been given. Her image reflected in the glass of the front door of the clubhouse as she approached. My god, she thought. What must he think of me, seeing me in baggy blue jeans and this faded, oversized jacket? I look like a stuffed monkey.

"Does it make any difference," she said aloud. "You came here to escape from a monster. You're twenty-three years old. Your career has come to this? You haven't been here long enough to see your office or apartment, and already you worry about how you look. Better you should always look this way."

She glanced about and was relieved to see no one saw her talk to herself.

***

Jud Wheeling saw a speed-limit sign beside the road and slowed the convertible. One more speeding ticket, he thought, and they'll suspend my license. I wouldn't need to speed if I wasn't always pressed for time. It was his father's fault, talking him into taking a job as a maintenance man in a run-down apartment complex.

His dad had been so reasonable. He said, "You're thirty years old, Jud. Your mother and I worry about you. Sure, there's enough money, it's not that. But don't play your life away. Take the challenge of this job, see if you can cope with real life problems as well as you do with games."

Jud had hated to admit it, even to himself, but his father was right. All the excitement of playing golf, going to sporting events and having affairs with the brittle women of his crowd had dwindled away. And the job would get him away from Addy. He didn't doubt that she would hunt him down, but at least he would be away from her for a while. Maybe, eventually, she would understand that it was over.

On the other hand, he didn't take this job and where it would lead to make him as narrow as his father, only thinking of profits, never having time to enjoy anything. And he didn't want to go back to college and study engineering again.

His dad had said, "It's time to settle down. You like to build things, repair things. Remember all the building sets you had when you were a kid? You could work at this run down property, Lovin' Arms. See if you can turn it back into a moneymaker. As a maintenance man you could learn the business from the ground up. You say you hate offices. This way you could be outside a lot, at least in the summer."

His mother nodded, her brown, doe eyes pleading. He couldn't refuse. They had spent so much effort trying to make him happy.

I'm cheating though, Jud thought as he pulled into the parking lot of Naperton's Bellwood Country Club. Playing golf won't get that place fixed up. At least I've been doing something though, fixing up one apartment at a time. He looked at his watch. It was five minutes past six, and he was late for his tee time. He didn't really care. He didn't feel like playing golf.

He was anxious to get back to Lovin' Arms. Why? Because of the woman in that little car he almost hit? She was a dumpy little thing, like a medicine ball in those ridiculously baggy clothes. He wondered what she looked like underneath. Her eyes. What color were they? Hey, hold on. Lose interest in golf and start on women again. No way. You promised to give this job a try. Get back there and do something. Clean out that pool, cover it, have it ready for the season opening.

"Damn, I'll have to go the library to learn how to take care of it. There ought to be enough money to hire someone, but no, I have to do these things myself. I promised.

"And now I'm talking to myself," Jud added. The sound of his voice evaporated into the air swishing past as he drove back to the apartments. He noted the Escort parked in front of the clubhouse and thought of stopping. She wasn't in the car. He wondered where she was. He hoped she would rent an apartment. Then he couldn't help it if he had to do some work around her place. But what was this? Since when was he interested in dumpy women? He tried to remember the color of her eyes. Blue, maybe.

***

Melissa closed the door of the clubhouse and leaned against it. Couches, chairs and coffee tables were scattered about a large lobby. Newspapers and magazines were piled on one of the coffee tables. Dust balls were scattered about on the dark linoleum floor. Near the middle of the room the linoleum curled where it had been torn.

Across the room, sliding glass doors opened onto a patio that led to the swimming pool. Several dead flies cluttered the floor near the door. Melissa imagined the clubhouse when the furniture was new, the floor was clean and polished. She checked the sliding doors, found they were locked, walked back to the middle of the room, sighed, took off her jacket, and sat on a couch. So much needed to be done to make the place presentable. The walls needed to be washed, the furniture needed to be cleaned or replaced. And what could she do about the flooring?

To the left was the office, her office. She struggled to her feet from the inviting softness of the couch, hitched up her blue jeans, and opened the office door. She flipped the wall light switch and was pleasantly surprised. The unworn light blue carpet was clean, uncluttered. A large desk sat near a picture window that looked out on the parking spaces in front of the building. The wooden desk top glistened. In the middle sat a paperweight the shape of a woman's large breast. Filing cabinets to the side appeared to be relatively new and, on a table in one corner, was a coffee pot, a can of coffee, spoons, sugar and cups. In the corner near the window an Underwood typewriter sat on a rolling stand.

She reluctantly touched the paperweight, felt its heaviness, and placed it in the empty top desk drawer. She checked the cups for cleanliness and made coffee. Maybe hot coffee would warm her spirits. Fresh air would help. The office window wound open as she turned a side handle. The two portions of the window folded out against the wall, revealing a ripped screen that someone had tried to repair with string.

When the coffee was done Melissa took a cup into the lobby, pulled a chair and end table near the sliding doors, and sat down. She took a couple of sips of coffee, leaned back in the chair, and remembered.

She had been such a fool. Being hired as office manager of Chase Insurance Co. had been a better job than she had hoped for when she graduated from Illinois State. And then Carleton Chase, son of the owner, came into her life. She'd only been there two months when he started on her. At first he always appeared in the cafeteria when she took a break. Then he asked her for a date.

She'd already heard office gossip about what a philanderer he was. There had been a newspaper picture of him posted in the women's rest room. His long, slender face had been decorated with a black pointed beard and pointed ears. She thought of that, but what could she do? Besides, he was charming. Maybe his beady eyes were a little too close together, but...

Her thoughts faded. She slept.

Scraping noises forced her out of a dream in which she snuggled against the bare chest of a huge, naked man. Carleton Chase appeared, racing toward her. The naked man dissolved and she was under Carleton as he smothered her with clammy hands. She screamed. She rubbed her eyes and struggled up from her sprawled position. Where was she? Through the glass doors the head and bare shoulders of a man were visible. Could she still be dreaming? The man was in a swimming pool. The scraping noise reached her again. Leaves were tossed out of the pool. The pool! She was at that horrible apartment complex she had agreed to manage. Who was the man? Could this place afford to hire a pool man? They had warned her the place was nearly bankrupted, that they weren't going to put any more money into it except for what she could generate by getting all the apartments rented.

Near-new blue jeans hugged this man's long legs and rounded bottom like a second skin as he emerged from the pool. He was barefooted. He raked the leaves and muck he had heaved from the pool into a large pile and moved out of view. A battered pickup truck was backed to near the pile. Melissa pulled the chair back from the sliding doors, but not quick enough to prevent the driver from seeing her. He came closer. He was the same man who had raced away earlier in the expensive convertible, apparently to play golf. And now here he was cleaning leaves and muck out of the pool.

She discarded an urge to run, went to the sliding doors, thumbed through the keys she had been given and finally found one that fit. She slid the doors open and demanded, "Who are you?"

"My name is Jud, Jud Wheeling. Who are you?"

"I'm Melissa Malden. I'm the new property manager. Why are you cleaning the pool? Has someone hired you?"

"May I come in?"

Melissa stepped back, watched back muscles ripple as he turned and closed the door. She said, "I don't know who hired you to clean that pool and I haven't had a chance to look at the books yet, but I doubt that we can afford you. The maintenance man will have to do that. And, judging from what little I've seen so far, there are plenty of other things that need to be done."

"I smell coffee, may I have a cup?"

Melissa hesitated. "Yes, I guess, but I just got here, and I have to get started. I don't even know where to start. Look at this place."

"This isn't so bad," Jud Wheeling said as he went into her office. He returned, picked up the coffee table while still holding a cup of coffee in his other hand, and placed the table near the doors leading to the pool. After setting his coffee down, he lifted two chairs and put them on either side of the table.

"Get your coffee and sit down," he instructed her.

Melissa resisted an urge to stamp her foot. Who did this guy think he was, telling her what to do? Just like Carleton. No, not like Carleton. He ignored her, but he didn't make her skin crawl. She'd just told him she had work to do. And how did he know where the coffee was?

"You didn't answer me. Who hired you to clean the pool, and, and how did you know where the coffee was? Is your sense of smell that strong?"

"A lot of questions. Let's see. First, I was hired by the same corporation that hired you. I'm the maintenance man. My senses are pretty strong, especially right now, but I knew where the coffee was."

Anger rose in Melissa. How dare this man sit having coffee when there was so much to be done. Maintenance man indeed.

"Now before you fly off the handle let me tell you I've only been here a week. I'm overwhelmed at what needs to be done. I've looked at the books to see how much money is available, but I hate business figures, don't want to understand them, hate 'em."

Melissa was surprised at his intensity.

"Maintenance men don't have to worry themselves about the books anyway," Melissa said. "That's going to be my job."

"Yes, I know, that's why you're here. How could I fix this place up, if it's possible, and have to worry about the confounded books?"

Melissa was glad there was a table between them. The man seemed so intense. She was afraid if they touched, however innocently, she would melt. How was that possible? After her horrifying experience with Carleton she never expected to have such thoughts again.

"Of course it's possible to fix this place up," she said. "Why wouldn't it be possible?"

"Didn't they tell you we can only do what we can pay for from the income of the property. There are nine buildings, fifty-four apartments. The buildings are in bad shape. Nearly half the units are empty, and there hasn't been a manager here for a month. This is an impossible situation."

"Maybe," Melissa said. "It sounds like just what I need to get my mind off ... well, anyway I'm going to try. I think we should start with the clubhouse. How can I rent the empty apartments if the first thing customers see is this run down building?"

"Actually," Jud said, "making the clubhouse presentable will be the easy part. All it needs is the walls washed, the screens fixed, and a general clean up. I'll fix that linoleum and the screens. There are showers and rest rooms and a small kitchen where food can be prepared.

"I understand they used to hold dances here on weekends for the residents. Like neighborhood parties. But then the manager and the head maintenance man ran off and got married. They were gone for three days. One of the brains in Chicago found out and fired them. There hasn't been a good manager here for two years, a resident told me."

Jud stood.

"I'll put the cups away and finish cleaning the pool," he said. He reached across to get her empty cup. Her eyes locked on his as their hands touched. He could flip me across this table right into his arms, Melissa thought.

After Jud was gone Melissa shuffled through the files. There were purchase records, rent records, lots of records she would have to study. None of them appeared to be up to date.

She jumped when the telephone rang. She picked up the receiver, hesitated, and said "Lovin' Arms Apartments."

"I want to talk to Jud Wheeling," a woman's voice demanded.

"He's not here, how may I help you?"

"You may help me by connecting me with Jud, that's how you may help me."

"I can't do that. He just drove away in a truck. He's hauling debris.”

"He's what? That fool. You tell him Addy called. Tell him he can't get away from me that easy. I'm coming down there. I want to rent an apartment. There is one available isn't there?"

"Yes, I'm sure there is."

"And don't get any ideas about latching onto Mister Wonderful. He's mine whether he knows it or not."

***

She's not as dumpy as I thought, Jud realized as he hurried into the office, washed the cups and deposited them on the table. She could be a problem. He was determined to show his father he could turn this place into a moneymaker, but he couldn't do that if he became involved with another woman. He had to stick to business. He remembered his mother's pleading eyes. He'd do it for her too, work his butt off and get this confounded place in shape and then leave. He'd get a job on some construction crew in South America, get away from Addy. The new manager's eyes were green. She blushed when their hands touched. Addy, none of the others, would have blushed.

***

Melissa studied the apartment complex ledgers. They went back twenty years. The latest revenue ledger indicated twenty-eight of the fifty-four units were empty. Seven of those occupied were behind on the rent, one three months. She'd have to do something about that right away. The rent was due on all the apartments in a week. She'd notify the occupants she was there, and would be expecting the rent. She made notes.

Melissa jumped when Jud said, "I forgot to get you into an apartment. You want to move in now or wait? Sorry if I startled you."

Did he always creep around? Another Carleton? She had to stop thinking like that. Carleton was scum. That didn't mean every man was.

"I guess I'll wait. I'm just starting to get into these books. Do you know the occupants of one apartment are three months behind on the rent?"

She looked at him, and returned her eyes to the ledger. What was the matter with her? Was she actually blushing? Was she going to do it every time she looked at this handsome man? Handsome? Yes, he was definitely that, but in a different way than other men she had known. There was something primitive about this guy, something down to earth. Something frightening?

"Sorry I bothered you," he said. He was standing in front of the desk looking down at her. She tried to direct her eyes away, but they were drawn to his as if he willed it.

"I'll move in after I close the office at four o'clock. Just give me the keys."

"Sure, but I'd like to help. The apartment is on the second floor of Building Five. I've been working on it. It's a mess. I'll have to clean it up before you move in. I live in one apartment until I get it cleaned as much as possible and then move to another. That way I can work on the damned things in the evening instead of sitting around watching television. I thought maybe you could do the same thing, if you want to."

"Me, work on cleaning the apartments?"

"Only if you want to. I'm trying to get this place in shape as soon as possible. I'll clean up your apartment as much as I can and see you about four then."

"Oh, by the way, someone named Addy called. Said she was going to rent an apartment. I assured her we had one available."

The outdoor smell of him lingered after he stomped out. Was he angry at her or did it have something to do with this Addy? Melissa spent another hour examining the books, stretched, poured the cold coffee from the cup on her desk back into the pot and went out to the lobby. She peeked at the pool from beside the sliding doors. The truck and Jud were gone. She walked outside, saw the pool was spotless, and wondered why he had bothered. It would be dirty again before it was opened, probably in a couple of weeks. Later, after she had cleaned the rest rooms, she discovered Jud had covered the pool with faded blue canvas.

She cleaned the kitchen and by the time she finished she was sweating like a ditch digger in August. She didn't mind. The clubhouse looked presentable, good in fact. Jud would be impressed.

She collapsed onto a couch and thought how the place would look with the furniture pushed aside and people dancing, laughing, having a good time. Maybe Jud would ask her to dance. Maybe, after everyone left, they would continue dancing until they collapsed on a couch, the one she was sitting on, and he would take her in his arms and...

"For heaven sake's Melissa, what in the world is wrong with you?" she said aloud. "You're sitting here sweating, your hands and face smeared with dirt and you think about ... you've been thinking about this guy all day. Stop it, you must stop it. Won't you ever learn? And, besides, he probably belongs to this Addy. She certainly thinks he does.

"Well, at least I haven't been thinking about Carleton Chase and how that bastard forced me to... I won't think about it. I won’t. Damn, I'm talking to myself again."

***

It was almost four o'clock and Jud hadn't finished cleaning the apartment for this new manager. The place still looked like hell on a bad day. He gathered up the paint cans and brushes and set them outside in the hall. He returned to the bedroom, the paint still wet on the walls, and the paint-spattered cover still over the bed. Tonight she would be sleeping on that bed, he thought. He folded the cover and sat on the mattress holding it.

He smelled something besides paint. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. He started sweeping the bedroom floor. Once he'd done that he would have to get a vacuum cleaner from the second floor tools closet and go over the whole place. Why hadn't he started earlier? He sat again on the bed, holding the folded paint cover. Addy was coming. How was he going to deal with that?

"What are you doing?" Melissa asked. She sounded out of breath. He turned. She stood with her hands on her hips, a large suitcase on the floor beside her.

He stood with the cover pressed to his chest like a pillow.

"I was just resting," he stammered.

"I hope that mattress is more comfortable than it looks," she said.

"Oh, it's fine, at least it was for me," Jud said.

"Have you been sleeping in here, is that what you do all day?"

"Now just a minute. I slept in here – at night – after I worked on this apartment. As a matter of fact I'm not quite finished. Still some things to do in the bathroom."

"Why are you having me move in here then?" Melissa demanded.

Jud could feel the anger rise from his gut. Who the hell did this woman think she was? He'd been working his butt off getting the apartment as clean as he could and she...

"I've been here a week, and I've cleaned and painted three apartments. Even cleaned the carpets as much as I could. The apartments were a complete disaster like the rest of the unoccupied ones. I've got twenty-five to go. You have three ready to rent. I'll have the next one ready in a day or two, and then I'll move on to another one. Or does her majesty want a permanent suite readied for her?"

She ignored him as her nose twitched.

"Something smells bad in here, can't you smell it?"

"Yes, I opened the windows, but it didn't do any good. I'll try to find it. Maybe your nose is better than mine. You find it."

***

I don't care how tired and discouraged I am, I'm not going to cry in front of this arrogant maintenance man, Melissa thought. Who does he think he is? I'm the manager. What kind of a place is this? She sagged to the bed, patted the mattress. It felt firm enough.

The mattress sagged when he sat down, throwing her shoulder against his. They each moved away from the other, like moths near a flame, but avoiding it.

"I didn't mean ... I was just testing the mattress. But you might as well sit. I'm sorry I'm so cranky. I'm tired and worried. Will we ever be able to put this place back on its feet? Is it even worth the effort?"

"Maybe not to you, but it's worth it to me. I'm out to prove something. Let's see if we can find the source of that stink. It's strong enough, we ought to be able to find it. Is it coming from the bathroom?"

Melissa cautiously opened the cabinet below the bathroom sink, afraid of what she might find. The shelves were empty and clean. Jud pulled the shower curtain back and looked in the tub.

"I had to replace the shower curtain," he said.

Melissa didn't reply, but she was far from pleased with the gaudy floral pattern on the curtain. It didn't belong in this bathroom, probably not in any bathroom.

"I can't stay here alone all night with that smell." Would he think she wanted him to stay? "We've got to find it."

He held his arm above the bathroom door, inviting her to leave first. She could smell him, he was so close. He had been sweating, too. Her tired body suddenly was rejuvenated.

"I'll try the kitchen. Why don't you go ahead and unpack if you want to," Jud said.

He left the bedroom. She was putting panties away in a drawer when he returned. Heat rushed to her face when she realized he was looking at them. She stuffed them into the drawer and closed it. The warm, syrupy feeling left her face and flowed throughout the rest of her body. She resisted a strong urge to collapse on her back on the bed.

"I found it," he said. "It was a bunch of cleaning rags, wet and rotting, under the sink in the kitchen. I sprayed some Lysol in there for now. Tomorrow I'll scrub it out, finish with this apartment while you're at work. In the meantime maybe you can figure out how we can rent the apartments as we clean them. We need more income if we're going to make a go of it."

She did collapse on the bed, but after Jud left. He'd said, "We." She caressed the idea of working with him day after day, of ... hey, wait a minute, remember Carleton. You don't want to repeat that experience again.

CHAPTER TWO

Jud carried the paint cans to the next apartment project, two doors down from Melissa. He'd already moved his clothing and bedding.

"Bedding, I'll bet she doesn't have any bedding," Jud said to the empty room. "I'd better go check."

She didn't answer when he knocked. Could something be wrong? He turned the door handle. It wasn't locked. He entered the apartment cautiously. Didn't want to scare her. He called her name. No answer. Maybe she'd gone down to bring more stuff up from her car. Why wouldn't she let him help her? He was turning to leave when he heard a door open. He turned back. She screamed.

"You pervert, what are you doing in my apartment?"

She had just taken a shower, apparently, and had wrapped a towel around her head. Her hands still were pushing in the final fold. Jud stared.

"I'm sorry," he stammered. "I came back to see if you needed bedding. You didn't answer when I knocked. I thought something might be wrong."

Melissa struggled with the towel. It took a moment to get it loose. She covered the front of her body with it and stamped her foot.

"Gosh damn you, oh gosh damn. Do I have to lock the door every time you leave? Or do you have your own keys to all the apartments? Of course you do. Oh, gosh damn."

She stepped back as Jud moved closer. He laughed, a rumble at first, and then a deep, boisterous laugh that filled the room. "It's been a long day. Now this," he said. He laughed again, but managed to smother it when he looked into her smoldering eyes.

"It's not my fault. I just wanted to see if you needed bedding. I'm sorry if you're embarrassed but I've seen, what I mean is..."

"How do I know you won't creep in here in the middle of the night, how do I know that?" She stamped her foot again.

"Now just a minute. You must be suffering from delusions of grandeur. You're a cute little thing, with your genuine red hair and your flashing green eyes, but I don't need to sneak around, peeking in keyholes, if that's what you think. There are plenty of women around, some as desirable as you, well probably not many, but ... I'm going. To hell with the bedding. Sleep on the mattress for all I care."

He slammed the door and continued to laugh as he went down the hall to his own apartment. She was so defiant, like a jungle cat spitting at him from a tree. Gosh damn. What an expression. And she's a natural red head, that's for sure. God, what a temptation. But no, I mustn't think about it. It would lead to nothing but trouble. Why couldn't they have sent someone a little less ... wow, who would have thought there was such a voluptuous body under those baggy clothes. She can wear them all she wants. I'll know.

He retrieved a ladder, set it up, opened a paint can and started painting a wall. That's the trouble with painting, he thought. You can do it and still think about something else. Like Melissa. He had to stop thinking about her, seeing her standing there before him naked. He'd maybe get the whole apartment painted this night. No use going to bed until he was exhausted. He'd just think about red hair and this woman who had come into his life even though he didn't want her.

***

Melissa remained in the same spot for several minutes, the towel more securely wrapped around her. The echo of Jud's laughter seemed to remain in the apartment.

What was so funny? Did she look that ridiculous, standing before him naked? Her face flushed at the thought. Her embarrassment turned to anger. What right did he have to laugh at her? So maybe she was just a little overweight, five pounds maybe, but it wasn't that obvious.

"You're so damned perfect, not an ounce of fat obscuring your muscles you ... you muscle head." There it was again, she was talking to herself. She hadn't done that before she met this laughing giant, had she? She shook her head, stamped her foot. Ouch. She had to stop doing that. It hurt, kinda like slapping herself in the face. She went into the bathroom with the intention of plucking her eyebrows. Her eyebrows. Nothing like his, so dark and expressive, the way he arched one sometimes when he looked at her. And his lashes. She had never seen such long lashes. They were wasted on a man. Any woman would kill for natural lashes like that. This Addy person probably had long lashes, too.

She gave up trying to do anything with her face. She thought of getting dressed and going out to get something to eat, gave that up and collapsed on the bed. She woke in the middle of the night, lights still on, still naked, and chilled. Where was she?

She sat up, rubbed sleep from her eyes, and remembered. This awful apartment complex. And that arrogant man. She put on sweat pants and her old jacket, turned off all the lights, and went back to sleep.

When she awoke again sunlight filled the room. She sat on the edge of the bed, reluctant to get moving. The walls, the carpet, the furniture, they were awful. Clean enough, although she could see one stain on the carpet that apparently wouldn't come up.

But the colors, they were so drab. She'd have to stop him before he made all the apartments look like this. Why would anyone paint walls such a flat, drab shade of grayish brown?

She was hungry. Absolutely starving. And she had work to do. No sense in crying over spilt milk. That's what her mother always said. And her mother was right. Melissa had grabbed this job because she was desperate to get away from Carleton Chase. So get going, sister, she told herself.

She put on her wristwatch. Twenty minutes past five. She found a shirt to go with the pants, changed her mind, and searched through her suitcase. She found the plaid shorts she wanted. They looked like men's boxer shorts without the appropriate opening. The bright red and yellow pattern was just right to clash with her auburn hair. She had bought them to wear to a funky costume party years ago. She found a blouse that was just right, a checked affair, chartreuse and purple. Later, she wondered which apartment Jud was sleeping in as she walked to the stairway and skipped down to the first floor and out the door.

The row of apartment buildings stretched away from her. They all needed painting. Drab, everything was so drab and trashy looking. She walked the half block to the clubhouse and office building. The truck Jud drove was parked next to her car. It hadn't been there last night. A scratching noise startled her. It was Jud. He was raking the flower beds and grass in front of the building.

"Hi," he said. He stopped and stared at her. She was pleased. Surely he wasn't thinking of her now standing nude before him.

"Are you color blind?" he said.

"I don't think so, why?" Melissa asked.

Jud looked away, started raking again. "Thought I would get this area cleaned up. First impressions are important, I guess. What do you think?"

He stared at her clothes again. She stifled a smile.

"Do you intend to plant anything in the flower beds? That would help color this place up a bit. Yes, first impressions are important. I'm going to find a quick food place, get some breakfast, bring it back here and get to work. Want anything?"

"There's a twenty-four hour place, Don's, down the road about a mile. Toward town. Get me whatever you're having. I've already made coffee. We could even have a picnic breakfast. There's a picnic table that belongs out here in the yard. It's in the tool shed. I'll clean it up."

Melissa was fascinated by the way the early sun's rays emphasized the contours of his face. Made him look like a figure out of history, a crusader maybe.

"Forget the picnic," she said. "We have more important things to do."

She drove away. She'd show him who's boss. A picnic. This was no picnic. It was war. That was the best way to get on with her life. Declare war, war on men, war on ... what else? Oh, it didn't matter, just keep busy.

***

Jud raked the last of the dead weeds, grass and leaves into a pile. He put the debris in a battered plastic basket, and put it in the truck. He returned to the shed, dragged the picnic table out and placed it to the right of the entrance to the building. He brushed it off, pulled pieces of peeling paint from the top and returned to the shed. There were two cans of dark green paint there. One had been opened. He shook the can violently, pried off the lid and, by the time Melissa returned, was painting the table. She carried a brown paper sack into the clubhouse. Jud followed, went to the kitchen and returned with two cups of steaming coffee. She had placed two chairs on either side of a small table.

"I guess we can take five minutes off for breakfast," Melissa said. "Besides I've got several things I want to talk about."

***

The coffee was delicious. When the egg sandwiches and Danish were consumed Melissa pushed her chair back, stretched, and thought how nice it was to eat breakfast with someone instead of by herself. I should tell him I enjoyed it. But no, I'm not going to give him the satisfaction.

"I don't understand your role here," she said as she stood. He remained seated, looked up at her with questioning eyes.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You're supposed to be a maintenance man, or at least that's what you said. They didn't tell me anything about you at the main office in Chicago. You seem to think you're in charge, making decisions about what you're going to do. And that awful paint in my apartment. Are you painting all the apartments that color? If I'm going to be manager of this, this mess, then I want to manage. I want to make decisions. And another thing, you can't fix this place up by yourself. You need help. Even I can see that."

He smiled. "What's so funny?"

He stood, towered over her, and said, "I'm sorry, it's just that you look so cute when you're angry. Your eyes glow, and that ridiculous outfit you're wearing. It's just too much.

"Now lets see if I can remember your questions, answer all of them. The paint in the apartments, I admit, is not the greatest color, but there were three unopened cans of it in the shed. There's no money in the till, and I wanted to get started, so... As to making decisions, be my guest. Tell me what you want me to do. I'll do it. Help, of course I need help. But I figured we'd have to wait until the first of the month when you collect the rent, pay the bills. If there is any left, maybe we can hire some help, although we probably should use whatever we have to buy stuff to fix up apartments. I need mattresses for some, more paint, a dozen other things. But, I guess, you'd have to make those decisions, since you’re in charge. There. Did I answer all your questions?"

He stood before her, his hands at his sides like a huge toy soldier. He looked subservient. She just knew he was acting. How could a man who drove a fancy red sports car care about a maintenance job? She was tempted to asked him, but didn't. Too personal. She had to avoid personal. She averted her eyes from his. She had to say something.

"Let's just get to work for now. We can talk more about this later."

He stood there. She went into the office, turned, saw he still was standing there, and came back to face him.

"What is it? Do you want to be dismissed? Stop acting so silly."

The hint of a smile creased the corners of his mouth. He said, "I'm waiting for you to tell me what to do. For instance, I have a great pile of leaves behind one of the apartments, and, if I keep cleaning up the grounds, if that's what you want me to do, I'll have an even greater pile. What should I do with them? I can't burn them. I think it's against the law."

"Do you know anything about gardening?" she asked.

"No," Jud said.

"My dad," Melissa said, "used to put all the refuse from our yard in a bin, turn it over once in awhile. It rotted, became black dirt. Why don't you make a bin away from the apartments somewhere, put the stuff there? Make compost."

"Gosh damn, that's a good idea. I'll get right on it," he said.

Melissa imagined him laughing the moment he got outside. When he was gone she went outside near the pool. The sun cast shadows across the front of the buildings. They didn't look so bad in the half light. Without her noticing it, a milkman apparently had delivered his products. A woman in a housecoat came out and picked up a bottle of milk. From another apartment a man emerged, stretched, looked up at the sky, picked up a newspaper from the stoop, and went back inside. A car left the complex, and then another. People on their way to work. And then an off key rumble. Jud was there, making a noise sort of like singing. Something about "There once was an Indian maid, who said she wasn't afraid." A passing car drowned out his voice.

She went into the office, put the rent records in front of her and hummed to herself. After a moment of staring out the window, she began adding up the income she would get from the rent in a few days. She stopped when she came to the page for John Gordini, the man who was behind three months in his rent. She hitched up her pants, mentally, and dialed the phone number on the renter's page.

***

Jud raked up the last of the leaves, tossed them in the truck and drove to a corner of the property away from the last apartment building. He tossed the leaves into one of two wooden bins there. The slats on the sides were warped and weathered. If Melissa saw them she would know they had been there a long time. He thought of her as she stood defiantly before him. Cute, yes, but certainly more than that. More than just a cute female. In fact, she seemed efficient, demanding of herself and others. She might keep him at this job long enough to complete it.

He did need help. He was thinking of hiring John Gordini, but the guy usually smelled of beer. He had two kids and a young wife. There was no way Jud could bring himself to throw the family out. Could Melissa throw them out? He hoped not, and yet, if she, if they were going to make a go of this place they would have to throw people out when they didn't pay their rent. Just another reason to hate business, especially this business. He tossed the last of the leaves into the bin and pressed them down with the rake.

***

A young woman, judging from her voice, answered Melissa's phone call.

A child cried in the background. Melissa said, "I'm calling about the rent. You will be three months in arrears soon. Is your husband there?"

"No," the woman whispered.

In as stern a voice as she could muster, Melissa said, "You tell him I want to see him in the office. I'll be here all day. Is he working? What time does he get off?"

"He'll be there. I'll tell him."

Melissa made calls to other renters who were behind, one two months, the others one. She reached just two of them. She dashed off letters to the other three, and sent them by registered mail. She didn't want anyone claiming they didn't receive notice.

It was nearly noon when a young man, dark-skinned with the shadow of a beard on his gaunt face, stood at the entrance of her office.

"I'm John Gordini," the man said. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, come in," Melissa said. "Sit down."

He stood in front of her desk. His brown eyes were cast down, avoiding Melissa's. She smelled beer, but he didn't appear drunk.

"You're three months behind in the rent."

"I know. I can't pay all of it. I've got fifty dollars. I worked three days for a farmer last week. I've got fifty dollars right here. Spent the rest of it for groceries."

And for beer, Melissa thought.

"You're three months behind. Fifty dollars won't be enough. You'll just fall further behind. There are jobs out there. I see signs at quick food places all the time."

"I don't want to do that kind of work."

"Why not?" Melissa demanded. She wasn't going to put up with this. A man with a family who didn't want to work. She stood.

A young woman, with two children clutching her faded skirt, appeared in the doorway. Melissa sighed, invited them in, and learned they were John Gordini's family. The oldest child, perhaps four, was a blonde girl with a smile as wide as her face. She stood next to a runny-nosed boy, maybe two years old, who rubbed knuckles into his eyes.

I was tough as an office manager, Melissa thought, but this is different, throwing a young couple with children out on the street.

She cleared her throat, and said, "We need a maintenance man's helper here. Maybe you would do. We only pay minimum, at least at first, but you'd live in the apartment rent free, after you've paid the three months you owe."

A smile spread across the young man's face. He turned to his wife. She squeezed the children against her legs and nodded.

"There'll be no drinking on the job, you understand that?"

The young man wiped a hand across his mouth, licked his lips and said, "I'll work like the devil, you'll see."

"Come back tomorrow early. I'm not sure what time you'll start. But it will be tomorrow."

The mother said, "Thank you." She freed one hand from the children and wiped tears from her face.

After they left Melissa paced the office floor. "Now what have I done?" she asked herself. "Jud will kill me. He will not," she insisted. "I can hire someone if I want."

The phone rang. It was a resident complaining because the hallway was cluttered. "Nobody has swept this hallway for a month," the resident, an elderly sounding woman, said.

Melissa promised something would be done. But what? She needed physical action, something to relieve the pressure she was feeling. She'd sweep the hallway herself.

What would Jud say about her hiring Gordini? He did need help. Maybe he would appreciate it. Or, maybe, he would just laugh at her behind her back for being too weak to throw out a renter who couldn't pay.

She retrieved a broom and dust pan and marched to the ground floor of building number five. She swept furiously. By the time she reached the back end of the hall she had a pile of papers, empty Styrofoam cups, a pop bottle, dirt and dust. She went outside.

The spring air was welcome relief from the musty smell of the hallway. A dumpster sat near the door. She scooped up the debris and, in three trips, dumped it in the smelly container. She stretched, let sunshine caress her tired skin, and listened to the chatter of birds.

"They know how to enjoy a spring day," a quiet voice said.

Melissa turned. An elderly woman with thinning hair dyed an alarming shade of red stood in the doorway. Her eyeglasses glistened in the sunlight.

"Who?"

"The birds, of course," the woman said. "Thank you for cleaning up the hall. I never saw such a quick response before around here. Are you new? I've got to get back to my television program. I just wanted to thank you."

***

Jud shoveled black dirt from the bin next to the one filled with leaves. It's black. It must be good dirt, he thought. He figured it would help whatever flowers the boss wanted planted in front of the clubhouse. His plan was to clean up the outside of the buildings during the day and work on getting the empty apartments ready to rent at night. He just couldn't spend spring days inside those dismal old buildings. Besides, if he worked on the flower beds near the office he might see Melissa. He felt like a school boy planning how to be near the girl of his dreams.

Later, as he dumped the dirt on the flower bed outside Melissa's office, he heard her office phone ringing. Why didn't she answer? He went inside, but by the time he got there the ringing had stopped.

When he turned, she was there, standing in the doorway, looking at him.

"The phone was ringing. You didn't answer it. When I reached it the ringing stopped. I wondered if something was wrong."

Anger rose in Jud's throat, nearly cutting off the last words. What the hell? He was apologizing to this woman for answering a ringing phone. Why was he apologizing? I never apologize to women ... or anyone. He straightened his shoulders, stepped aside so she could enter the office, and said, "I've got the bed in front of the office ready for planting. What kind of flowers do you want me to buy?"

Jud resisted the urge to smile. Her face was smeared with dirt. Apparently she had been sweating, rubbed her hand on her face, and without realizing, put a streak of dirt from below one eye across her nose and on to near her mouth. How could dirt make a woman look so sexy?

"Well, there'll be plenty of sun in the morning, but just shade in the afternoon. Marigolds, the short variety, petunias maybe. Why don't you measure the bed, tell the clerk where you buy the flowers about the sunlight, see what he recommends? But there's no money. Do you suppose we can get credit?"

"Maybe," Jud said.

"I've been sweeping the hallway in building five, just the lower floor. I'll have to get the others later and then get at least one a day. They must all be dirty. I worked up a sweat. I see you've been sweating, too," Melissa added.

"Why are you sweeping hallways? I'm sure you have plenty to do, trying to get the books straightened out. I know I didn't want to tackle it," Jud said.

"One of our renters called and complained. Sit down; I've got to talk to you about something."

Jud sat down, put his hand over his mouth to suppress the smile that wanted to appear every time he looked at her, and said, "Yes boss."

"I've hired someone to help you. The guy who is behind on his rent. John Gordini. I'm not sure how he'll do. I called him in about the rent. He smelled of beer."

Jud was amazed. He had been thinking about doing it, but she didn't waste time, she just did it. He knew Johnny drank, but figured he could get plenty of work out of him, maybe pay his wife instead of him. He was a nice kid, really, just scared because he couldn't find the kind of work he wanted. Or, at least, that was the impression Jud had. They had talked a couple of times.

"Well, I suppose you think I should have consulted you before I hired anyone. Is that what you're thinking? Let me tell you..."

"No, no," Jud said, holding up a hand to stop the flow of words from this woman who's green eyes threw sparks as she talked.

"As a matter of fact, I was thinking of hiring him myself. Of course, I would have asked you first, boss. Why not hire his wife to sweep the halls? Instead of paying her we could write off some of the rent they owe."

"Maybe," Melissa said. "But what's she going to do with her kids. They're so young."

"Couldn't they be with her when she's working? She could let them think they were helping. They would love it. Later, when everything gets caught up, we could hire a kid in each building to police the halls. You'd be surprised how they'd respond if given a little responsibility. I'd better get to the store, buy those plants."

CHAPTER THREE

Melissa sat at her desk staring at the space in the doorway where he had been. She heard his truck start, saw him drive it past the office window, and heard it go out to the road. How could he know about children and responsibility? It sounded like just the thing to do.

There's more to Mister Muscle than I realized. She strolled to the bathroom beyond her office, looked in the mirror, and groaned. The cold water felt good on her face as she washed it, but it couldn't erase the sick feeling that she had given Jud another reason to laugh at her. Well, he was dirty, too. How can he expect me to work like a cleaning lady without getting dirty?

***

"Hi Jud," a clerk at Myers' Hardware Store said as Jud entered. "Need more tools?"

"No Jack, flowers, I'm buying flowers today. I've got a plan. I saw what I want outside. You've got a mess of plants out there. Is Myers around?"

Jack went to the office in back and returned with Martin Myers, the owner. After a bit of conversation outside, Jud and Martin returned to the office. Jud sat while Martin operated a counter adding machine. He pushed his horn-rimmed glasses up his nose after each calculation.

"If you buy three-hundred dusty millers and three-hundred red salvia I can cut the price almost in half. But I'd need some kind of guarantee you'll buy that many."

"Yeah, I know," Jud said. "Why don't you just charge the whole amount now to my credit card? I'll pick them up as I need them. Just set the plants back so you'll have ‘em."

Jud stood and unrolled a folded piece of paper showing a plan for the flower beds. It included a border of dusty millers and an inside filled with red salvia.

"That's going to be neat," Jack said. "I'm a tool man, I don't know much about flowers, but this should look great."

"I hope so," Jud said. "I spent too much time thinking about it. Want to impress somebody."

Jud placed six plant flats in the back of the truck and returned to the apartment complex, surprised at how anxious he was to get the plants in the ground. He wondered if they actually would grow.

He placed each plant in the ground, one hole at a time. He had hoped to get them all in before Melissa saw them. He was about half finished when she came out from her office, stood to the side with her hands on her hips, and said, "Well, that will look good, I think. How did you decide on those? Such a nice contrast between the silver and red. I'm impressed."

"I got some help at the store," Jud said.

Jud was on his knees looking up at her. He resisted the urge to throw his arms around her waist and pull her against his chest. His breathing deepened.

She knows what I'm thinking, he thought, as she stepped back.

She said, "I used to love to work in the dirt, make mud pies, when I was little. I helped my dad plant flowers when I was older. There's something so basic about dirt. May I plant some? Give your knees a rest."

"Sure," Jud said. He handed her the trowel. Their shoulders brushed as she knelt beside him. He handed her a dusty miller. Their hands touched. When she bent to plant the flower Jud slid his hand across her back and under her stomach. He felt her muscles tighten.

"What are you doing?" Her face was close to his, her breath warm and sweet.

"I'm holding you so you won't fall."

She patted the dirt around the plant, said "there" and turned. Her lips were only inches from his. He kissed her. Just a gentle caress of his lips on hers, a brush of sensation. She pulled away. He lifted her away from the flower bed, turned her over so she was under him on the ground. He planted his mouth firmly on hers. He forced his tongue between her lips. She bit hard. He jumped up, holding his mouth. Blood seeped between his fingers.

"You bitch," he snarled.

***

I bit too hard, Melissa thought as the back tires of his truck spewed gravel. She was shaking. Out of fear? Yes, definitely, but there was something else. He had lifted her head and slid his hand under her, going lower, lower. Her arms were around him, around the enormity of him, the hardness, the swelling as his chest expanded. Her breathing joined the rhythm of his. The desire increased until she felt his hand on the small of her back, and lower as he slipped it under her panties. She wrestled herself free, knowing she was able to move away only because he allowed it. When he kissed her she almost gave in. But she bit him. Well, it served him right. She had a right to protect herself from men, all men.

She struggled to her feet, straightened her clothes, brushed dirt from her knees and resisted running back into the office. She looked around. No one was watching. The truck came back, skidded to a stop. Jud got out and stood in front of her.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Oh, you knew what I was doing. Don't give me that innocent bit."

"Well, you can just forget anything like that. I'm here because ... I'm not jumping in bed with you. Just forget it, do you hear."

"Whatever you say, boss. You've got dirt on your face again. I just can't control my passion when you look like nature girl. Please forgive me."

He held a bloody handkerchief to his mouth. There was that twinkle in his intense eyes again. She started to stamp her foot, caught herself in time.

"I suppose you better get that cut fixed. Go to a doctor. We'll pay for it somehow. Keep your tongue to yourself. You're not one bit sorry you took advantage of me. Anyone can see that."

"Yeah, that's right, I took advantage of you. Look girlie, I'm just as determined to keep complications like this out of my life as you are. Let's both forget it."

***

Jud quickly planted the rest of the flowers. He gathered the tools and containers and left. Maybe tomorrow he'd come back when Melissa wasn't around and see how they looked.

By the time he quit his outside work that day he had prepared six more beds for planting, had organized a group of resident children to pick up debris from the grounds, and almost erased the vision of Melissa, the smell of Melissa, the feel of Melissa, from his mind. His tongue had stopped bleeding.

That night he nibbled at a TV diner while trying to protect his tongue. He painted until the apartment was finished. He was ready to move on. And still the vision of Melissa, dirt smeared on her face, the tiny beauty mark near her lip, he loved that little mark, he loved ... no damn it, he did not love her. It was just that she was different from the other women he had been with the last few years. And dangerous.

The next morning, while Jud drank coffee, Melissa jogged past on the road that fronted all the apartment buildings. She was wearing sweat clothes, faded baggy stuff that concealed her ripe, rounded figure. He turned away from the window and carried his clothes to the next apartment. He was headed back to get the paint equipment when she came trotting down the hall. He could have stepped aside, but he remained directly in her path.

"About yesterday," he said.

"Yesterday? Nothing happened yesterday, nothing. Understand?"

She side stepped him and disappeared into her apartment.

***

Inside the apartment Melissa peeled the sweat-damp clothing from her body. She felt exhilarated from the exercise. At first, even while she was running, she thought of Jud, but by the time she finished she was concentrating on nothing but breathing. Her mind was cleared, until she saw him again. She was going to run everyday, run that man right out of her mind. He's moved on to another apartment. I've got to get busy and rent the ones he's renovated. I'll show him.

It was noon when Carleton Chase appeared at the door to Melissa's office. The sun was streaming through the office window as Melissa talked on the telephone to a woman named Addison Clarke. Addy? Melissa dropped the receiver, retrieved it from the floor quickly. Miss Clarke was saying she wanted an apartment near Jud's and would be there in an hour.

"Near Jud's?"

"Yes, near Jud's. Jud Wheeling. I know he's on this ridiculous kick. Working there. Don't pretend you don't know who I mean. I'll bet you've been panting over him since the first day he showed up."

As the woman's words bounced from Melissa's awareness she gaped at the snake in man's clothing in the doorway and said, "How..."

Carleton's grin was evil, triumphant, as he came farther into the room.

"How did I find you? It was easy. I hired a detective. He reported back the next day. I didn't ask how he did it. What do I care?"

That horrible night came back to Melissa like a newsreel out of control, pictures flashing in front of her mind rapidly. He was so convincing when he asked if he could take her out to dinner. Said he liked to welcome all new employees to the company.

"It'll give us a chance to get to know each other. We can talk business away from the hustle of the office. I find some of my best ideas come to me when I'm away from the office."

How could she refuse? His father owned the firm.

He disappeared then but was back at the end of the work day. Eyes of the other employees, especially the women, were on her as she walked out with Carleton. Were they envious?

He took her to the Modern Club. They walked up a flight of stairs appropriate for a castle as a valet parked Carleton's Cadillac. Inside an elderly man greeted them.

"Welcome Mister Chase," he said. He didn't bow but somehow it seemed he did as he said, "Welcome Madame."

Melissa was nervous. She'd never been called "Madame" before and she'd never been in a restaurant with such a high ceiling or such a quiet atmosphere.

"It used to be a library," Carleton said. "Now it's a private club with a limited number of members."

Images from the converted library continued to appear and disappear before Melissa's mind. Again she saw the menu, a single sheet of computer paper with names of dishes she'd never seen. And no prices. She stared at the words. "Lamb shank on a bed of romaine lettuce. Veil loin encrusted in spinach leaves, roasted peppers with tomato demiglaze."

She had looked up. Carleton was grinning. She felt such a fool. He didn't help, seemed to enjoy her discomfort. Finally he said, "Oh, all right, I'll order for you. You'll love the soup."

And she did. Each course delighted her taste buds more than the one before. She thought of all the times she'd eaten pork chops at home or in a restaurant without knowing how delicious they could taste. Carleton signed the bill and, with great ceremony, they left the club. His car appeared as if by magic, and he drove her home. It had been a wonderful evening even though they didn't discuss business at all. Mostly Carleton talked about himself, his wealth, cruises on a yacht he implied he owned, trips to New York City to see the shows, all stuff, Melissa realized later, intended to impress her, set her up so she would invite him into her apartment. She didn't. He'd forced his way in.

Now Carleton pulled up a chair and sat in front of her desk, bringing her back to the present. She shuddered, thought of running, but he would grab her before she could reach the door. Addison Clarke had hung up. Melissa kept the phone to her ear, pretended to listen. She turned, put the receiver in its cradle and whispered, "I was hoping never to see you again. Why did you find me?"

Her voice only quavered a little.

Carleton crossed his legs, flicked an imaginary bit of lint from a sleeve of his Italian silk suit, and said, "I found you because I'm not through with you after what you did to me. Nobody walks out on Carleton Chase, least of all an office worker. I had such plans for you. You would have enjoyed it, don't pretend you wouldn't."

"Enjoyed it? You must be mad. What woman would enjoy being raped? That's what you would have done, raped me if I hadn't kneed you and hit you with my shoe. I was afraid you were dead. You must be sick. Your daddy won't be able to protect you down here. Now get out of my office. Go back to Chicago, wallow in the ease of being the owner's son, get help, mental help, you're sick."

"Now Melissa. You're just upset. You don't have to work in a dump like this. Come back to Chicago with me."

Melissa stood, picked up a pair of scissors from her desk and walked around it. Carleton jumped up from the chair and backed away. Melissa went to the window. Jud was standing in the parking lot beside his battered apartment-complex truck looking at Carelton's black, gleaming Caddy.

Jud walked into the office. Melissa sighed with relief, took a deep breath and said, "Jud, this is Carleton Chase. He was just leaving."

Melissa returned to behind the desk and sat. Her breathing gradually returned to normal. Jud would protect her from this monster ... for now. But what about the future? Would she have to run again?"

Carleton hesitated, flashed his business smile, and extended his hand.

"Thinking of renting an apartment?" Jud asked.

"What, here? Not likely."

Their hands remained locked. Carleton's face reddened. Jud smiled and released his hand.

"Carleton stopped by on his way to ... where was it you were going? St. Louis? Yes, well Mister Chase, good-bye."

"I'll be back," Carleton said. He glared at Jud and left.

Melissa pretended to be looking at a half-finished letter in the typewriter.

"I haven't used a typewriter in a couple of years. We used computers at my last job," she mumbled.

I must keep my voice steady, I can get through this, she told herself. Jud stared at her. She could feel it.

"Who was that dandy?"

"Dandy? Oh Carleton, just a man I knew in Chicago. Nobody."

"I'll bet he's nobody. He's a rich nobody, apparently. Was he your sugar daddy?"

"How dare you? I don't have to answer questions like that. Okay, if you must know, he was my sugar daddy. There, now are you happy? What are you doing here anyway? What do you want?"

Jud smacked his right fist into his left hand. Melissa jumped. He turned and walked out.

***

Jud was in the truck backing out of the parking lot when he realized he hadn't asked Melissa to instruct him on the colors to use in the apartments from now on. He stopped the truck, got out, slammed the door, pulled a paint brochure from his hip pocket and marched back into the office.

"Here's the colors they have at the hardware store where I have credit. You pick out the colors, spell it out on paper so there'll be no misunderstanding, and I'll get on with painting the damned apartments."

He slapped the brochure against the top of the desk, turned, and left. Melissa hadn't batted an eye. She appeared ready for combat. She had a sugar daddy? He raked debris from flower beds and yards at a furious pace. He was working in front of Building Two when Melissa and Addison Clarke walked toward him. Damn. How did Addy find him?

***

"That man raking leaves. He looks like someone I used to know," Addy said loud enough for him to hear.

"I've got another applicant coming in half an hour so we should hurry," Melissa said as she guided Miss Clarke past Jud.

She imagined how Jud was comparing this woman's long, slender body with her shorter, unruly being. Miss Clarke was wearing Cartier shorts and a Jay Ramone blouse. Melissa guessed they probably cost more than half her entire wardrobe.

In the apartment Miss Clarke said, "I guess it will do for now. The walls are awful. They'll have to be repainted."

"Yes, of course," Melissa said. "And we'll furnish the paint if you want to do it."

"Me, paint this dump. No way. I'll hire someone. How about Jud? It would serve him right, running out on me, if he had to paint my apartment. I was worried he'd found another playmate down here, but I guess I don't need to worry about that," Miss Clarke said as she looked at Melissa.

Who cares if she is Jud's play thing? She's going to rent this apartment. And it's as far away from Jud's as possible.

Melissa escorted Miss Clarke back to her Lexus, watched her drive away, and looked at the signed lease. She had rented her first apartment. She wanted to run find Jud. But no, he probably already knew this woman had rented the apartment. Could he have set it up? Maybe not. He didn't seem happy to see her.

It was distressing, having something to celebrate and no one to share it. Her mood darkened as she reminded herself Carleton Chase knew where she was. She had hoped Jud would scare him off. Probably not. Could she trust Jud to protect her? Should she tell him about Carleton? She sat behind her desk and damned the tears that seeped from her eyes. This couldn't be happening to her. She was exhausted. And she rented an apartment. She wished it was true that she had another person coming to view an apartment, but that was just a lie to keep Addison Clarke from stopping and talking to Jud.

She received two more calls from prospective renters that afternoon. One made an appointment for the next day. Was it going to work? Maybe they did have a chance of putting this place back on its feet. No not we. Me. To hell with Jud. She spotted the brochure Jud had slapped onto her desk and spent the next hour agonizing over the choice of color for the walls and woodwork of the apartments. She would repaint the one she was living in now and replace those awful shower curtains.

***

Addison Clarke moved into the apartment and harassed Jud every chance she got, but he managed to keep away from her most of the time. Now, as he headed for Melissa's office, he imagined the scene if Addison was there. She would demand to know which apartment he was in, probably already had pried the information from Melissa. He had to go to the office. He wasn't getting anything done with the apartments. How could he paint if he didn't know what colors her majesty wanted? So, he'd talk to her, strictly business. Maybe Addy wouldn't see him. He parked the truck in front of the office and paused a moment to admire the plants on either side of the main door. His first serious attempt at gardening. There was something satisfying about it. He was anxious to get the rest of the beds planted.

He saw Melissa sitting at her desk, and, although she wouldn't look up, he had the feeling she knew he was there. Might as well get it over with. Addy didn't seem to be around.

"Good morning," he said after he entered the office.

He felt as welcome as a dead mouse. Melissa mumbled, "Good morning."

Her eyes flicked past his for an instant before she returned her gaze to the ledger on the desk.

"I'm here to find out what colors you want to paint the apartments. And what should I do with those two unopened cans of paint I have left? We can't afford to waste them."

Melissa reached across her desk for the paint brochure he had left and said, "You won't need this. Buy scrubable white latex paint. I saw in the records that most of the paint they bought in the past was white. Of course. A neutral color. It goes with any furniture a renter might have. Use that other stuff to paint the woodwork if it needs it. Anything else."

Not a damned thing else you, you ... Jud was thinking bitch. He left the office without slamming the door and was stopped by Miss Henrietta Wilkins.

"Well, my dear young lady, how are you? I was worried. Haven't seen you for a couple of days. You seeing someone else?"

Jud talked unusually loud, even for a conversation with Henrietta. He wanted Melissa to hear.

"Let's go over in the corner where we can be by ourselves. I've missed you. Have you missed me?"

He held the woman's frail arm as he guided her to a corner of the lobby away from the office. He steadied her as she lowered herself slowly to the chair.

"I was up here the other day, but you must have been off with some other young thing. Nobody was here," Henrietta said. Jud marveled at the way her eyes twinkled and was pleased to think he had something to do with it. She reminded him of his grandmother, long since dead, who had been one of his favorite people when he was little. She gave him cookies.

Henrietta removed her wide-brimmed straw hat with the rose stitched to the brim and fluffed up her thin, gray hair.

"Did you just get back from the hair dresser?"

"Oh, my goodness, no. The hair dresser. You are a tease. I walked up here to meet the new manager. Is she in?"

"I'm disappointed. I thought you came to see me. You should have waited, I was going to stop by your apartment on my lunch hour."

Henrietta struggled to her feet before Jud could help, and said, "I enjoyed the walk. I should get out more. Now take me into the office and introduce me to the new manager. I've got to straighten her out right away on how this place should be run. I'm the oldest resident here, you know. I mean I've been here the longest."

"Maybe it would be best if you just introduced yourself. I should get back to work. She's a hard taskmaster."

"I don't see how anyone could work harder than you have around here. I just hope you don't get discouraged and leave."

Jud held Henrietta's hand as they walked to the office, opened the door for her, and said good-bye.

***

Melissa caught a glimpse of Jud before noticing the smallest, frailest women she had ever seen. And what a face. A thousand wrinkles separated by a smile as pleasant as a spring morning. When she switched her gaze back to where Jud had been he was gone.

"Hello," Melissa said as she hurried from behind her desk and extended a steadying hand to the woman.

"You must be ... are you Henrietta? The woman who has lived here since the complex was built. I noticed that when I was looking at the records."

"That's me. Henrietta Wilkins. Most people call me Henny, but that new young fellow, Judson, insists on calling me Henrietta. Isn't he nice?"

"Judson? Oh Jud. Well, may I help you sit down? I'm pleased you came to see me. I'll bet you can tell me a lot on how this place was when it was newer, when all the apartments were occupied. So much I need to know."

"It was an elegant place when it was new, I can tell you. All the apartments were occupied most of the time. We had some doozies here. One time a man shot his wife. He thought she was dead and was calling the sheriff to turn himself in when she got the gun and shot him. I'll bet you got your eye on that Judson. He's the nicest young man I've ever met. Well, I did meet some nice ones when I was young, my husband, bless his soul, and others, but I mean lately. Judson is so kind. Talking to him gives me something to look forward to. And now you, I'll stop in and talk to you, too, if you don't mind."

Melissa listened to the old lady, but her mind wandered. Her eye on Jud, Judson? Not her eye if she could help it, but her mind, she couldn't stop that. When she thought of him she turned all warm inside. It was the image of him as she first saw him that often appeared. Again she saw his muscles glistening in the early morning sun. The feeling that swept through her came back repeatedly. But now that woman, Addison Clarke, was here and Melissa should forget about Jud. Besides, how could she think such thoughts now that Carleton had tracked her down.

"What? Oh of course you can stop by, er, Henny, you may stop by any time you want. I'll look forward to talking to you, too."

"Well thank you, Melissa. What a pretty name. And such beautiful auburn hair. You should let it grow longer and have lots of soft, shiny waves. Men loved that when I was young. And they still do, you can count on it. Such things don't change. You be sure and set your cap for that young fellow. He'll get away if you don't."

After the old woman left Melissa stared absently out the window. She ran a hand through her hair, remembered how it looked when she was in high school. It reached her shoulders then. It was pretty. But what a pain to care for. No, she didn't have time for that. Set her cap for Jud. What a peculiar expression. It wasn't her cap she'd set for him ... if she was going to ...

"Oh, get back to work. Remember why you’re here," she said aloud.

She forced her mind onto the books and the bills, all the things she needed to become aware of and do something about. A commotion near the tool shed broke her concentration. It was Jud unloading paint cans.

She went outside and shouted, "Could you leave a can of that white paint outside my apartment. And a brush. Whatever I'll need to repaint the walls. We need to get these apartments ready to show as soon as possible. I'm getting calls from potential renters."

By the time she completed the sentence she was out of breath. She'd never had this problem while talking to employees before. The sun ducked under a cloud. A pleasant breeze caressed her skin. She thrust her arms above her head and stretched. This was better than fighting office politics in Chicago, seeing the sun only on weekends if even then, and trying to protect herself against Carleton. To hell with Jud and that woman.

The air was different. Invigorating. She felt like running around in a circle, like a colt she had seen on television once. Here, away from Chicago, she could take care of herself. She'd get a restraining order if necessary.

"The swimming pool will be open in a week, you can take a break from the office then, maybe during your lunch hour. And you should keep up the jogging in the morning. It puts color in your cheeks."

Jud smiled, returned to his unloading.

"Do you know how to paint? Nothing complicated about it, but you do have to keep the paint on the walls and not all over the floors and woodwork. Want me to show you what little I've learned about it? You'll want a roller, not brushes. A roller is much quicker. We could get your apartment finished tonight, and you could move on. It would be ready to rent after I aired it out a day."

"You and me in the same apartment, I don't think so."

"Well, okay, if you're afraid. I thought you wanted to get these apartments rented."

"I am not afraid. And I do want to get the apartments rented. I guess we better do it."

CHAPTER FOUR

Melissa opened the windows, changed to a pair of old shorts and a halter, and wolfed down a TV dinner. She pushed aside the card table and two chairs in the living room and was ready to paint. She went into the bathroom, washed her face, messed with her hair a little without getting it just right, waited. She was thinking of turning on the television when Jud showed up with two buckets of paint. He left and returned with a stepladder and a sheet. He left again and came back with paint rollers. Melissa had retreated to one of the chairs to regain her composure.

"I'll go get the fan," Jud said.

He returned with a small floor fan which he pointed toward one of the windows away from where they were going to paint.

"Well, let's get started," Jud said. "What's the matter?"

Melissa stood and turned. "What's the matter?" he says. He comes in here in a pair of torn, flimsy shorts and bare feet, his tanned body spattered with paint like a huge Indian warrior, and he wants to know, "What's the matter?"

I'm out of breath, I have visions of us running through the woods to a lake, washing each other, playing on the beach like naked children, and then ... and he wants to know, "What's the matter?"

"Nothing, nothing's the matter, let's get this place painted. It's hot in here, can't we turn on the air-conditioner?"

"We'll have to pay the bill since there is no occupant. It is hot. I've been painting. I guess you can see that by the way I'm sweating."

"Yes, I noticed. I also noticed the paint you have all over your body. If you look like this, what does the room you painted look like?"

He smiled. An Indian warrior, painted and ready to attack, smiled. I guess he's not going to attack after all, Melissa thought.

"The best way to do this, I've learned, is to paint around the edges with these things." He displayed a small pad he called an edger. "Then you roll the paint on the rest of the wall. It really goes quite fast. Getting ready and cleaning up are a pain, but I kinda like to paint. You can think about something else while you do it."

He handed Melissa one of the edging pads. He poured paint in each of the trays, dipped his pad lightly into the paint and ran it along the wall at the edge of the woodwork. It left a white swath on the awful paint Jud had used before. The result was a peculiar off white. It would do.

"You do the bottom and sides as high as you can go, and I'll get on the ladder and do the rest."

He placed the ladder at the end of the wall away from where Melissa was going to paint, set the paint pan on the ledge that extended from the ladder, and climbed. Melissa was on her knees edging the bottom part of the wall. She couldn't resist watching his long, muscular legs as he glided up the ladder. When he was above her she could see his manhood under his shorts.

She forced herself to look away. She had spilled paint onto the woodwork. He really should wear underpants. This was going to be more difficult than she thought. She smiled as she wiped paint from the woodwork. Now, at least, he didn't have the advantage on her. He saw her nude and now she'd seen him. Well, most of him. But he doesn't know it. Or does he? She spilled paint again.

"You're being awfully quiet. Most of the women I know love to talk. How are you doing? I can see from up here that you have sheets on your bed. Bet it beats sleeping on that mattress."

Melissa concentrated on her work, not daring to look up to talk to him. He might catch her staring and laugh at her again.

Could he possibly be doing this on purpose? Maybe not. Oh, what did she care? Just get the room painted and get it over with.

***

Jud expected Melissa to be cool toward him. However, the way she was acting, it seemed more than just cool, it was strange. Did she expect him to paint without getting the stuff all over himself? He'd seen real painters in those white overalls. They were always paint spattered. It was too damned hot where he had been working to wear anything like that, even with the fan.

Maybe she didn't like it because he was barefooted and only wearing shorts. He groaned. Melissa looked up.

"Is something the matter, your face is red. Are you having a heat stroke."

"I just realized, er, I'm sorry," he said as he scrambled down the ladder. "I've got to go to my apartment for a minute. I'll be right back."

Did she notice? Jud wondered as he changed into a pair of cutoff blue jeans that were not so loose, not so revealing.

Why am I so embarrassed? I've been naked in front of a woman before. But that was different. This wasn't on purpose. She'll think it was. She'll think I'm some kind of pervert.

He returned to the room where they were painting. Melissa seemed to have gotten the hang of it. She was nearly finished with the bottom of the wall edging.

She knows I've changed shorts, she knows why, too. Jud told himself as she grinned.

"Thank you," Melissa said.

"You're welcome," Jud said as he climbed the ladder. "For what?"

"I think you know. It was interesting, but not exactly conducive to getting this job done. I accept your apology."

Damn her, she was enjoying this.

"Apology, what apology? Why would I apologize?"

"Poor innocent Jud. Doesn't even know he was exposing himself. Ha."

"What do you mean, 'ha'? If I exposed myself it was an accident. I forgot how ... that is ... well, I changed didn't I?"

"Yes you did, and I appreciate it. That was as good as an apology, you changing shorts. You've seen me in the all together, I've seen you. So let's forget it and get this room painted, and get out of here before we melt."

Jud looked down at Melissa. She frowned as she concentrated on painting the edges. Her halter was just loose enough that it revealed a bit of the circle around the nipples of her breasts. Might as well be naked herself. He continued the edging, but, as he had said, a guy could paint and think about something else at the same time. And what he was thinking caused his blood to gather, putting a strain on his shorts. He kept his body turned from her. If she noticed, she really would think he was some kind of pervert. But, damn it, it wasn't his fault. Why did she have to look so sexy, no matter what she was wearing ... or not wearing. What would it be like in this heat, both of them sweating like this?

"I'm done with the edging, should I start with the roller now? How do I do it? Stroke up and down or sideways?"

Jud climbed down from the ladder, poured more paint in her pan, showed her how to move the roller through the paint until it was covered but not dripping, and then stroked it against the wall, up and down, up and down.

"It says on the can not to over do it. In other words if one stroke covers the surface, that's good enough."

She stood behind him, apparently making sure their bodies didn't touch. It didn't matter. He could feel the heat of her, smell the smell of her. He bent over to hide his emotion and moved the roller through the paint again.

"Let me try it," Melissa said.

Jud stood up. She was close behind him. He fought the urge to turn and take her in his arms, press his hardness against her, into her. Instead, he kept his back to her, moved aside and said, "Okay, go ahead."

She started painting, whispering just loud enough so he could here, "up and down, up and down."

***

Jud was right, you could go through the routine of painting, and think about something else at the same time. Now Jud had finished his edging and was rolling paint onto the upper half of the wall, just above and to the right of her. Sometimes his left leg was so close she could have reached over and bit it. This could be so much fun if not for the complications. But the fun would only lead to more heartbreak for her. She was convinced of that. And that's what she would get if she gave in to her desire to climb the ladder behind Jud and put her arms around his waist, pull him to her, feel his hardness, no, no, she had to think about something else, anything else.

An hour or so later Jud said, "Looks like we're done already. What do you think, so far?" He climbed down, stood back, and looked at the walls.

"Will those streaky places disappear when the paint dries? See what I mean." Melissa pointed and jumped when Jud's bare arm touched her shoulder.

"They have in the past. If they don't we can always stroke over them lightly, make them disappear. I guess we better get started on your bedroom."

Jud picked up the ladder as if it were a toy and took it to the door of the bedroom and set it down. He gathered up the protective sheet and was spreading it across the floor on the far wall as Melissa watched from the doorway. The bed was between her and Jud. My God, I can't do this, she realized. He could have me on the bed in no time, and I'd want him to. It must be the heat. I've never felt like this before. I can't do this; I can't let this magnetic man into my bedroom.

"I'm getting dizzy from the heat ... and paint I guess," Melissa said. "I'll paint the bedroom later by myself. I've got some orange juice in the refrigerator. I'll get you a glass if you want. I'm going to get some and go outside, sit in the breeze for a while. I hope there's a breeze."

A light wind caressed her skin as they sat on the curb in front of the apartment building. Melissa sipped at her juice. Jud finished his in two gulps. Just like a man, Melissa thought. Always in a hurry. Melissa liked to savor her pleasure, work up to it gradually. She'd heard that some men could do that ... take it slowly, tenderly, and then climax in an explosion of energy and passion. She felt her face redden. What if he knew what she was thinking? What was he thinking? She turned just enough to see his face. It was lifted slightly, as if he was praying to the sky.

"Have you ever tried to count the stars?" Jud asked.

Melissa looked up and was amazed she hadn't noticed the brilliance above. She was thinking of ... and Jud was admiring the stars. What did that make her?

"I don't think anyone could ever count them, they twinkle on and off too much. I used to be able to pick out the big dipper, but I don't see it now."

"It's just over there," Jud said, pointing so that his arm was across her line of vision. She turn to look where he was pointing. His other arm came to rest on her shoulder. His head was so close she smelled his maleness. She couldn't breathe.

"There, see, follow the line of my arm, it isn't so easy to spot tonight, but it's there. Do you see it?"

Melissa couldn't see it. She couldn't even try. He was so close. His touch ignited sensations that coursed through her veins, sensations that swirled around and gathered into a warm, syrupy feeling that threatened to overwhelm her. She stood up, moved away from him, and said, "Well, it's been ... a learning experience. I think I know how to paint enough to get by. You can paint your apartment and I can paint mine. We'll get more done that way."

"I guess," Jud said, "but how are you going to reach the top of the walls. We can't have the ladder in both places."

"I could stand on a chair," Melissa said. He stood. She looked at his face. He was close enough to lift her into his arms and kiss her.

"I've got to go in," she said. She turned and hurried to the building door.

"You can keep the ladder then, I'll stand on a chair or something. Good night," Jud said. Did he sound angry or was it just that his voice was so deep.

"Oh yes, good night. And thanks."

Once inside the building Melissa leaned against the wall out of sight of Jud. She was exhausted, as if she had been running. From what?

"From yourself, Melissa, from yourself," she said.

***

Jud returned to the curb, sat, and spread his legs out before him. Could she read his mind? Of course. It was plain enough. He was attracted to her physically. Sweating like they did in that room and then going into the smaller bedroom, he knew he was going to have her there ... and she knew it, too. Was she just stringing him along? Addy never did that.

He looked up at Melissa's bedroom window, saw she had pulled the shades. He strolled two blocks, meandered back to the building, went up to the apartment where he was working and sleeping. When he finished it he'd move on to another building. The thing to do was to put her in a different building so they weren't so damned close to each other. And stay away from the building where Addy was.

He got a chair, put newspapers over it, and started painting his bathroom. She was right, of course, neither of them wanted any complications in their life right now. He could live without having sex for awhile. But what was the point? Because it will keep you from getting this job done, dummy. You'll want to take her places, maybe on a cruise. Your dad has always given you everything you ever wanted, isn't it about time you did this little thing for him? Let him die in peace, knowing you can take care of his beloved business. And impress him. You know you want to show him you can do it.

The bathroom was done. It was time to move on. In the middle of the night Jud moved himself into Building Nine and one of the worst apartments. The woodwork was partly torn from the walls, children had written on every surface they could reach, the carpet was worn and soiled. The place would keep him busy. Busy enough to keep his mind off Melissa? He wondered what she was doing as he crashed and tried to sleep. He'd have to buy another fan.

***

Melissa lay on the bed as the fan pushed hot air across her naked body. She was dry on top, but sweat from her back soaked into the mattress. This idea of not turning on the air-conditioning was stupid. So what if it ran up a little bill. Surely there would be enough money after the first of the month to pay it. She turned her back to the fan, turned again and again. She wasn't going to sleep. How could she sleep when it was so hot, and she was thinking about, no she refused to think about Jud.

She dreamed of a naked devil with a long tail. The tail swung around her back like an elephant's trunk, swept her off her feet and hurled her against the devil's hairy chest. She was melting into the devil's hair and skin when she woke with a start.

She hadn't seen the devil's face in the dream but she thought it was Carleton. It couldn't have been Jud. It was cooler now, at least. She must have slept a little. She checked the time. It was nearly six. She threw on the wrinkled shorts and halter she'd worn while painting and walked out of the building. She stepped on a small rock and nearly turned her ankle. She thought of going back to get something to put on her feet, but didn't.

She was surprised to see light coming from her office window. Jud's face appeared as he paced past it. She turned, hesitated, and decided she had a right to go into her office and get a cup of coffee if she wanted.

She marched into the office, making plenty of noise as she approached. She didn't want to startle him. He might grab her, or something.

"What are you doing in my office at this hour? Don't you even have a coffee pot?"

He looked at her like she was the sweet roll he needed to go with his coffee. It made her angry to think she was blushing.

Jud continued to stare.

"Well," she said.

"I couldn't sleep. I moved into another apartment. I went for a walk and just sort of wound up here. Thought I'd have a cup of coffee. Want some?"

"I don't think I like the idea of you coming into my office when I'm not here. It just doesn't seem right."

"I guess I better give you the key then." He picked up a huge ring of keys from the top of her desk. His keys. He had a key for every apartment, her office, everything.

Melissa turned away from him and hitched up her halter. She had just realized that he was staring at her chest. She wished she'd put on something less revealing, like a sack.

He started thumbing through the keys, apparently looking for the one to her office. She noticed that apartment numbers were stamped on most of them.

"Well, maybe you should keep it. If something happened, and I was away, I suppose you should have a key. I couldn't sleep either."

"Why do you suppose that is?" Jud asked.

Melissa poured herself coffee and sat down behind her desk. Jud grabbed a chair, put it across from her, and placed his cup on the desk. Melissa still was holding her cup. She rummaged through the desk drawers, found some cork coasters, placed one in front of her and handed the other to Jud.

"Oh, sorry," he said, as he picked up the coffee, gulped a swig of it, and put the cup on the coaster.

"It appears someone polished this desk. It looks good," Melissa said.

"I did. It polished up real easy. I wish everything else was that easy."

Jud picked up his cup again, sipped it this time, set it down and said, "Sex is never easy unless it's just a one-night stand."

Melissa said, "Sex! Who said anything about sex? I was talking about getting this place in shape so we can rent the apartments. It's a challenge. I've been thinking of going on to something else, but I've decided to see this thing through."

"Yeah, it's a challenge, all right. That's one of the reasons I'm here, but the main reason is because of a promise. But we're facing another challenge, the challenge of a man and a woman who are attracted to each other, but who, for various reasons, don't want to get involved."

"Is this going to be like a session with Doctor Ruth? Are you going to explain sex to me? I suppose you've had a lot of experience. What about that Addy woman?"

Jud stood and paced. "Now don't stamp your foot, you might jar yourself right out of that halter. We should discuss this like two adults who face the same problem and care enough to try to solve it."

Melissa stood, watched Jud go back and forth, back and forth in front of her desk, and, without realizing it, she paced behind the desk.

"You say we face the same problem. I don't know what your problem is, how do you know mine?"

"Oh come on, Melissa. You know I'm attracted to you. You know it's driving me crazy. Maybe we should just go to bed, get it over with, and get on with our lives. Do you think we could do that? Right here on the desk, get it over with, what do you think?"

"I think ... I think you've got a nerve, and a tremendous ego, thinking I'm so attracted to you I can't sleep. And suggesting we have sex on my desk. And ruin the polish. Are you crazy?"

She startled herself by bursting into laughter, laughter that was so close to tears she had to turn her face away from him.

***

She's so unpredictable, Jud thought, as he stared at her. Why is she laughing? At first he just smiled, but as her laughter continued, he joined in. Anyone watching would have thought they were two loonies.

And then she was crying. What should he do now? He went behind the desk, took her in his arms and tried to ignore the excitement touching her created.

"Do you have any Kleenex, something like that? Tears are streaming down your face. You're soiling my chest."

She laughed between sobs, pushed herself away from him, and said, "I'm sorry. It's just, oh it's just ... well you know."

"We are mutually attracted to each other, won't you admit that? We can't solve the problem unless we both admit what it is."

"All right, for the sake of argument, suppose I am attracted to you. I didn't think this would happen, at least not so soon after ... How do I know? One thing you could do. You could stop going around showing off your muscles. Look at you. A flimsy pair of shorts that reveal more than they cover. No shirt, a pair of flimsy canvas slippers."

"Okay, I'll wear more clothes. But it's getting hotter. Who wants to be smothered by clothes in the middle of the summer? And what about you? I can't figure you out. Barefooted and with dirt on your face you look more sexy than any female I've ever seen. And talk about clothes. Look at you. You're not hiding much either."

Jud smiled as she hitched up her shorts and then her halter.

She grinned, wiped tears from her eyes and said, "Do I have dirt on my face?"

"Not now, you got it."

"Well, I guess I'll have to start wearing sacks or something. I'm sorry, but it is going to be hot. What can we do?"

"We could go naked. I understand that after a short time nakedness loses it's attraction for the opposite sex."

"Do you believe that?"

"No, not in your case. You'll be attractive to me if you wear a sack or a sock. I've got to learn to live with it. I think of peaches, ripe peaches, every time I look at you?"

"Peaches, why peaches? You think of me as a ripe peach?"

"Never mind what I think. We really haven't solved anything. At least I did move to another building. We won't be so close to each other."

Melissa sighed. She let her shoulders sag, spread her hands palms up, raised her eyebrows and said, "I'm going back to the apartment and see if I can find any sacks. It certainly has been an interesting conversation."

***

Melissa skipped to her apartment. He said she was so attractive he couldn't resist. And all those other things he said about her. Sexy when she was barefooted and had dirt on her face. Nature girl. Melissa bounded up the stairs to her apartment. Time for her morning run. She had an old pair of baggy sweats she would wear. She'd roast, but that wasn't all bad. Maybe she'd lose the five pounds she didn't want.

On the other hand, if she was so sexy, why bother? Could he really be that attracted to her? Maybe it was just a line. And how attracted to him was she, really? Certainly, he was built like a ... what was it they said when she was a kid ... a brick outhouse? He was as hard as a brick, that was certain. She recalled the feel of his chest when he held her while she was crying. Soiling his chest, he had said. I'd like to soil more than that. Stop it, stop thinking like that. She ran down the stairs and out of the building. Was she setting herself up for more heartbreak? Maybe Jud was in that Addy woman's arms right now.

Outside her office later, primly covered by a print dress that came to just above her ankles, she watched a moving van come into the property. It parked in front of Building Six. Maybe the driver was confused. She hadn't rented any apartments in that building.

In her office she made fresh coffee and got out more ledgers she hadn't yet checked. She studied maintenance cost figures from five years earlier and then went into the lobby. No one was moving into Building Six, someone was moving out.

She was thinking what to do when Henny Wilkins startled her by saying, "I'm sorry to see the Smothers move out. But they have to go. The mister has been transferred to Alabama."

"To Alabama?" Melissa turned and was greeted by a smiling Henny wearing a floppy-billed plaid hat that sagged down the back of her neck.

"I'm sorry Henny. I didn't hear you come in. I'm so stupid. I've rented a couple of apartments and never even considered that someone would move out. I don't have any notice. Shouldn't they give notice if they're going to move."

"They gave notice, two months ago. The guy in Building Nine, Andre something, he gave notice, too. He never talked to anyone much. Don't know where he's going."

Melissa sagged into a chair in the lobby, put her elbows on her knees and held her head in her hands.

"Don't let it get you down. People come and go here all the time. If you work at it like some of the others have you can get about ninety percent occupancy, maybe a little more, but people always come and go. It's part of the business."

Melissa got up, went to her office and returned with coffee for Henny and herself. They sat at a table and gazed across the swimming pool at the back-and-forth parade of the movers.

"Maybe you should be managing this business, Henny. I'm sure you know more about it than I do."

"I ought to know something, child. I've lived here all these years, seen all the problems, some of the solutions. One thing this place has going for it. It's nice and quiet, away from the hub and bub of the city. People like hearing the birds sing in the morning, like knowing their neighbors. Of course some people are old poops who don't want nothin' to do with nobody, but most are friendly enough."

“I've rented two apartments since I've been here and now two renters are moving out. Some progress. What am I going to do, Henny?"

"If it was me I'd have a party. Here in the clubhouse. Food and dancing. You wouldn't need a band. Just recorded music would be okay. It would help keep the renters you have happy. Gives a sense of community. We used to have parties every month, but somehow they just died out."

"Sounds like fun, Henny, but I need to rent apartments."

"You need to keep the renters you have, too. You should name a party committee. Let me do it. All you'd have to do is buy the food and police the thing with Judson. Sometimes, when people drink too much, there can be a problem."

Henny perched on her chair like an early bird poised to grab the worm.

"Well, why not?" Melissa said. She couldn't disappoint this refreshing little woman, and maybe it would help. Maybe she could figure out a way to get prospective renters to attend the party.

CHAPTER FIVE

Melissa hated to go looking for Jud. Yet, if she was going to manage the apartments, what else could she do? He's said he had moved to Building Nine, but which apartment?

She entered the lobby and checked the name slots on the mailboxes. Three were empty. In the first-floor hallway strange noises she recognized as Jud's attempt at singing echoed off the walls. Her ears guided her to Apartment 103 where the door was open. Jud was wearing those awful loose shorts, nothing else, and was on his knees painting the bottom of a wall as he sang. A large fan added to the noise.

Melissa cleared her throat as loudly as she could, but got no response from Jud. She knocked on the door during a brief pause in his screeching. He turned, smiled, and covered his chest as though he were a woman who's privacy had been invaded while she showered.

Melissa looked away and smiled. "Let me know when you're decent." She couldn't suppress the schoolgirl giggle that escaped. "Okay," Jud said, "you can look now."

He was holding a paint-spattered rag across his chest, and his knees were pressed together.

"I've got to know where you are working so I can call you."

"Won't be able to call," he said. He tossed the rag away, pulled up a folding chair, also spattered with paint, and sat down. "The phones in the empty apartments are disconnected. Otherwise we'd have to pay."

"Well then, could you come up to the office during your lunch hour? I've got something to discuss."

"Sure, if I had a lunch hour. I'll be up there around noon, okay? That's a nice dress you're wearing. Covers you from head to foot. You don't have one I could wear, do you?"

"Nothing that big, I'm afraid," Melissa said. "Just a shirt and pants will do when you're not painting. It is hot in here. I'll see you later."

***

Jud had turned away from her as they talked. It was embarrassing, the thing that happened when he looked at her, even when she wore that ridiculous dress. What did she want? Could she be planning to fire him? That would put a new wrinkle in his attempt to satisfy his parents. Or maybe she had changed her mind, decided to sleep with him, get it over with as he had suggested. But, of course, Jud knew that sleeping with her once wouldn't satisfy him and he doubted, he hoped, it wouldn't satisfy her either.

He finished painting the room shortly before noon, changed into jeans, a T-shirt and sandals. He went to the office, but Melissa wasn't there. He heard singing. At first he thought it was a recording. Then he recognized Melissa's voice. She was singing that business about the Indian maid who said she wasn't afraid. How did she know that song? He wondered if she knew the rest, the part about laying in the grass and so on.

She came out of the kitchen into the lobby carrying a tray of sandwiches. She stopped singing in the middle of a phrase.

"How do you happen to know that song?"

Melissa sat the food – two steaming hamburgers with cheese, and sliced onions on the side – on the table and said, "I don't really know it. Just the parts I heard you singing. Why?"

"Because it's ribald. You might be embarrassed if you ever heard all the words."

A rosy glow crept up from her neck to her face and stayed there for an instant before it disappeared. Did she blush all over, he wondered.

"I thought as long as you were going to be here I'd try out the kitchen. Everything works, the refrigerator, the microwave. I didn't try the stove, but it's electric so I suppose it works too."

"Sit down," Jud said. "I'll get coffee."

"It's fresh, I just made it," Melissa said.

I'm going to wait her out if that's her game, Jud thought as he returned with the coffee.

Melissa sipped the coffee, opened the hamburger bun she had placed on a paper plate, and put a slice of onion on it. She drenched the sandwich with catsup before holding it over the plate and taking a large bite. Jud watched her lips move as she made little noises indicating she was savoring the food. He was fascinated by her animal appetite, the way her tongue and lips caressed the food, the way she wiped her lips with a paper napkin, the way she went back for more. He turned away.

"Aren't you hungry?"

"Yes, I'm hungry, all right," Jud said.

He followed the same procedure she had with the onion and catsup, took a big bite and chewed it lovingly, imagining it was something else. He chewed faster and harder, realizing he was famished.

His hamburger was gone too soon. He could have eaten a couple more, some french fries, and something for desert. How about her for desert? Thinking like that again. He had to stay away from her if this business was going to work.

"Do you want something else?" Melissa asked. "I've got more hamburger in the refrigerator, I can cook another one."

"I am hungry," Jud admitted, "but I'll eat the cheese and survive if you're anxious to get back to work."

"I've got plenty to do," she said, "but surely we can take time for a decent lunch. I've wanted to lose some weight. The way I've been eating, or not eating, and the running should do it soon."

While she was in the kitchen Jud drank coffee, stretched his legs, leaned back and closed his eyes. This wasn't a bad life, really. Better than endless games of golf or yachting, or cavorting on a beach with some young brainless member of the too fast crowd? What was he thinking? Was he being brain washed?

Melissa returned with another hamburger and said, "I wanted to talk to you about having a party."

Jud snapped to attention. A party. Had she changed her mind then about having sex and getting it over with?

"A party?"

"Yes, you know, like they used to have here for the residents. Music, dancing, food. Henny thinks it would help keep our renters from leaving if they had a sense of community. Two residents moved out, you know. What do you think? The reason I'm asking is because you'd have to be there to act as a sort of policeman in case anyone got drunk and caused trouble."

"Sounds like a good idea. Sure, I'll do my part. Will I get a dance with the hostess?"

"You mean Henny?"

"I'll dance with Henny, you bet, but I mean you."

"I thought we were going to cool it. Does dancing sound like a good idea?"

Jud got up, walked to the sliding doors and looked out at the swimming pool. "I suppose not," he said. "Will the pool be open by the time you have the party?"

"Yes, Henny suggested we have the party to mark the opening. She said we'd get more people to come that way."

"I don't doubt that," Jud said. "I guess I'll get back to work. By the way, have you noticed how much better the grounds look. That guy you hired, Gordini, he's doing a hell of a job. All the grass is mowed, he's helped me get most of the flower beds planted, and his wife is doing a bang up job on the halls. This place looks a hundred percent better than it did when I arrived."

***

By the time Jud finished talking he was at the front door. Melissa started to thank him for coming. She decided that was silly. After all, she fixed the sandwiches. Did he even thank her for the food?

As party time neared Melissa said, "Henrietta Wilkins, what would I ever do without you? You've helped me so much. How do you know all of these things?"

Between the two of them they had posted party notices on the bulletin boards in each of the apartment buildings. Melissa had visited the Chamber of Commerce, paid up the complex's back dues, and got a promise from the organization's director that he would inform members that Lovin' Arms was updating its facilities and seeking renters.

Henny helped her plan an advertising campaign in the classified section of the local newspaper. They ran out of money before they could start advertising on television. Maybe next time.

The evening of the party, and the opening of the swimming pool arrived much too soon for Melissa. Henny had helped with the physical work, but she needed frequent rests and even with those Melissa was afraid Henny was working too hard.

Jud and Johnny Gordini uncovered the pool, filled it with water, and had a two-hour struggle getting the circulation pump to work.

Melissa had joined Henny at a table near the sliding doors. They sipped lemonade and watched as Johnny swept the area around the pool and Jud arranged colorful chairs, lounges and tables. They all had come from the shed that housed the tools.

"It's going to be great," Henny said. "And look at the outdoor furniture. I don't see how they cram all that stuff in the shed every fall when the pool is closed. Maybe I should go out and help dust the tables and chairs."

"Oh no you don't, young lady. You stay right here. Rest, enjoy your lemonade. It is good, isn't it?”

Melissa mixed another pitcher of lemonade and took it out with a couple of paper cups to Jud and Johnny. Johnny was wearing a pair of cutoff jeans and sandals. His bare chest and back were pink from the sun.

Jud wore a T-shirt, jeans and canvas shoes. His shirt was soaked and a streak of sweat had run down the small of his back and turned a portion of his jeans dark.

The jeans were stretched against the muscles of his lower body like a second skin. His chest would have been a winner in a wet-shirt contest.

I'm sweating, too, but at least my clothes are loose enough they don't stick to me. Why should I complain? He's wearing more clothes than he should have to in this heat. All because of me.

She wiped dust from a spot and placed the lemonade and cups on an umbrella table. "Hey Jud, Johnny, why don't you guys take a break?"

Johnny paused, looked at Jud. Jud said, "Good idea. Come on Johnny. We'll hose off the table and chairs when we get done."

Jud turned from the table he had wrestled into position. Melissa caught her breath. She turned and hurried back into the building. Jud's jeans were so tight and so wet with perspiration that he might as well have been naked. The mound between his legs stood out like a god of fertility.

Melissa and Henny were in the kitchen when the commotion broke out. They hurried to the sliding doors and found Jud and Johnny, each with a garden hose, spraying each other like children. Water glistened on the tables and umbrellas, making the colors even brighter.

"Looks like fun, why don't you go out and join ‘em?" Henny said as she opened the door.

Melissa stepped outside. She was greeted by Jud's sardonic grin and then splat after splat of water. It was cold, invigorating. Melissa ran through a shower to Johnny and took his hose from him. He grinned and stepped back. Melissa turned and aimed the hose at Jud. The water bounced off his chest. He ignored it and stood still, looking at her. For an instant she didn't understand.

She dropped the hose and wrapped her arms around her chest. The dress she was wearing was fine for hiding her figure when it was dry. But she wasn't wearing a brassiere and now that the dress was soaked... She ran into the building.

***

Jud was embarrassed for Melissa. She had been like a child, they all had, spraying the water, laughing, enjoying, until her voluptuous body was revealed through the soaked material of her dress. It was a beautiful sight, yet it had stopped all the innocent fun. Jud couldn't erase the vision from his mind. It still was there as he showered, shaved and dressed for the party.

He opened a suitcase he had been lugging from apartment to apartment, got out a pair of cream-colored slacks, shook most of the wrinkles from them and put them on. He selected a dark brown silk shirt, slid it over his head, and looked at himself in the mirror.

The clothes fit him as tightly as the tailor had planned. And the vee of the shirt revealed a lot of chest hair. Was this too much exposure? What would Melissa be wearing? He slipped his feet into a pair of Italian leather loafers and walked to the party. Menacing clouds drifted overhead. Maybe they would blow away. The forecast he'd heard said, "partly cloudy." It didn't say anything about rain. At least it was cooling off. They had tested the clubhouse air-conditioning system. It worked fine, but now they wouldn't have to run it. Just fans and open windows would be good enough.

Everything he could do about getting the pool ready had been done. It would be good to get back to the life he had given up, have some fun. Maybe even with Melissa. Surely they could at least have one dance.

***

Melissa had agonized over what to wear for two days. She'd gone shopping, nearly bought a gown, but it was too long and there wasn't time to get it altered. Besides, who would wear a gown to an informal party? She finally decided to wear a beige jacket that had been part of her business wardrobe and a pair of dark brown slacks. The stretch material caressed her body as she stepped into the slacks.

Jud already was there when she walked into the clubhouse.

He was fussing with the arrangement of the chairs and tables. It was the first time she had seen him in anything but work clothes. His muscles swelled and receded under his clothes like waves on a beach.

"Well, look at you," he said as she stood before him, nervous as a girl at a high school prom. "You look great. What did you do with your hair?"

Tension drained from her body. She laughed.

"I combed it. That's all. I was going to get a permanent, get my nails done, all that good stuff, but time just got away from me."

Jud took her hands in his. His fingers caressed her palms. The thrill of his touch surged through her body. She resisted an urge to throw her arms around him, to hold him close so their bodies would blend, to kiss him. She put the back of her hand to her head. He still held one hand, now caressing each finger tip.

"This is an honest hand, a hand that does things, good things. I like your hands better this way than if they were polished and smooth. Your hands have character."

"Thank you sir," she said. She made a slight curtsy.

"You are a handsome thing yourself."

Before he could reply she went into her office, closed the door, and sat down. She sat very still until her racing blood settled back to near normal. She dabbed at her forehead with a Kleenex.

Jud knocked, opened the door, and said, "People are starting to arrive. Don't you want to be out there to greet them?"

She sighed, got up and joined him. They went into the lobby together.

"I know this is a big night for you. It'll be fine. Look, there's Henny. She's here to help. I'm here to help. You're not alone, sister."

Yes, Melissa thought, I'm not alone, but I'm not your sister.

"Thanks Jud. Oh, my God, look out the window, it's raining hard."

***

Lightning joined thunder as rain drenched Melissa's parade. Jud took over keeping the children of all ages out of the pool. He repeatedly explained that no one could go in the pool because of the danger of electrocution from lightning.

Once he'd gotten the message across to everyone he returned to the clubhouse, wet and dripping. He stood near the sliding doors. Melissa threaded her way through the crowd carrying a mop. She handed it to him and said, "Wipe up your drips, please, and then watch the doors, will you? The kids keep running in and out bringing water with them. I'm afraid someone will slip and fall, sue us."

She hurried off. He absently mopped the floor and watched as Melissa greeted people, stopped and talked, moved on, checked the food displayed on a long table, went into the kitchen, came out almost immediately and started her rounds again.

"She's got determination, that gal," Jud said aloud.

"Talking about me, mister?" a voice from his side said.

Addison Clarke moved in front of him, her hand on his arm. Her lime-colored gown hung from one shoulder. The other was bare as was a long stretch of one thigh where the material separated. Jud knew about such gowns. Release one hook in the shoulder and the whole thing slid to the floor.

"What do you think, Jud? I'm as overdressed as possible, right?"

Jud smelled liquor.

"I have an excuse. I just came from a party. Why not? You won't have anything to do with me. This crazy business of you working and ignoring me is killing my self image. Anyway, I was a big hit with the good old boys at the country club. How about you, sweetie, am I a big hit again with you?"

She stumbled into Jud and threw her arms around him.

"Ooooooo, you're a cool one. You feel good; I want to take you home. Come big man, let's blow this joint."

Jud unwrapped Addy's arms from around his neck and stepped back. Melissa appeared.

"I'm sorry to break up this ... this public display, but I hope you can find time to wipe up the water at the front door. Someone is going to fall on their ass for sure."

Melissa marched away.

"Oh my, I've put you on the hot seat, haven't I, darling. Come with me and I'll make you forget." Addy beckoned Jud with a finger.

Half an hour later Jud found Melissa. She appeared to be backed into a corner as Carleton Chase gestured at her. Was it fear he saw in her eyes? Or anger? Maybe both.

"I'm going to have to take Addy home, she's drunk and I'm afraid she'll be sick. Look at her."

Jud pointed to the middle of the room. Addy sat by herself on a couch, her head in her hands.

Melissa didn't reply. Too busy talking to that twerp? What's he doing here? Why the hell is she so angry? Can she be jealous of Addy? I'm the one who should be jealous. She should go back to the twerp, get it over with, let me get on with my life. Am I jealous? Hell no. She can do what she wants.

Jud hoisted Addy to her feet from behind, held her up with his hands under her armpits, and kneed her toward the front door. People moved aside, and someone opened the door. Jud saw Melissa watching from across the room. That Chase guy was gone. Probably went to get them drinks. Jud barely got Addy outside when her body shuddered, rumbling noises came from deep inside her, and she spewed the contents of her stomach onto the grass beside the walk.

"Just let me die, let me die," she wailed.

"You'll feel better in a minute. We've got to get you back to your apartment. Let’s go. You can do it."

***

"Don't worry so much, Melissa," Henny said as she stood behind the food table keeping the children from eating all the goodies.

"Worry, who me? Why worry? We spend time and money to have this party, and the weather destroys everything. Look at all these people. Trapped and packed in here like sardines. But I'm not worried, not me."

"Look at the bright side. This is a great turn out. We seldom got this many in the old days. People are talking to each other, some of them meeting for the first time, probably. You want to make this place a community again. This is a great start."

Melissa put an arm around Henny's bony shoulder. If only she could rest her head against this bright little woman and cry. She was so tired.

Carleton finally had left after she refused to dance with him. She returned his threat to "get her sooner or later" with one of her own.

"If you don't leave I'll tell Jud how you are threatening me. Nobody down here to protect you. Leave."

"I'll be back," Carleton snarled as he left.

Melissa realized she wasn't as intimidated by Carleton as she had been. She had other things to worry about besides that creep. Jud was off with Addy. How long had he been gone? She remembered the anger in Jud's eyes when he saw Carleton. Somehow Carleton had learned about the party and invited himself.

And now everyone had left. The party was over. Maybe not for Jud. He still hadn't returned.

"I'm going to walk you home, Henny. I don't care if it is raining. There's an old raincoat here somewhere."

"It's in the closet off the kitchen. Been here for years. You don't have to walk me home, you'll ruin your clothes."

"Come young lady. We're going for a walk in the rain. I'll leave my jacket here. The rain will feel good and the raincoat will keep you dry."

The rain did feel good and it was good to have a friend like Henny. She was like a second mother. It was slow walking with her, and Melissa had ample time, as they passed, to see there were no lights on in Addison Clarke's second floor apartment.

"Pleasant dreams," Henny said, as Melissa escorted her into her apartment building. Melissa took the raincoat, put it on to satisfy Henny, but took it off again as soon as Henny closed her door.

She strolled back to the clubhouse. She was in no hurry to get back there and close the place by herself. She heard a noise. Did it come from in back of one of the buildings? An animal. Maybe Carleton. She hurried back to the clubhouse, hoping Jud was there.

The place was empty. She locked the doors from the inside. How could Jud do this to her? Well, why not? They had agreed anything between them would only complicate their lives. Besides, she didn't want to be romantically linked to a man who had no ambition. Why, he was only being paid a little more than minimum wage, and he didn't seem to care. And that poor Addy. She was really drunk. Jud probably was taking advantage of her right now. Or maybe she wasn't as drunk as she appeared. Maybe she had set a trap for Jud and, the fool gladly walked right into it.

Melissa was warm enough when she was walking, but inside the clubhouse, sitting at a table, she shuddered. She turned off the lights in the lobby. She'd clean up in the morning. In the kitchen she slipped out of her blouse and slacks so she could dry herself. She was heating up a last cup of coffee when she heard a noise. Someone was in the lobby.

CHAPTER SIX

"Melissa? Are you still here?"

It was Jud. Relief flooded her muscles. Thank God it wasn't Carleton. But what did Jud want? She thought of staying quiet. Yet she had to face him sooner or later. She grabbed the towel and wrapped it around her like a sarong. The lights in the lobby came on as she left the kitchen.

"Did I interrupt something? You look like you just came out of the jungle."

"You look like you just came out of a bedroom," Melissa said.

"Is that guy, Carleton, still here? If I'm interrupting something I'll leave."

"Damn you, you're not interrupting anything. Carleton left two hours ago. I walked Henny home, got wet, took my clothes off to dry them, and now you're here talking about interrupting something. I'm going to my apartment and sleep forever. You're dripping water all over the place."

"Sorry, I guess I'll have to take my clothes off, too. Are there any more towels around? Maybe I won't need one right now. It's still raining hard, but there is no more lightning. We could go swimming. It would help you get rid of that tension. Me too. It's been quite a night."

"I'll bet," Melissa said.

"What does that mean?"

"It took you long enough to tuck our Miss Clarke in. I suppose you had to undress her."

Jud moved closer. He peeled his shirt off, revealing his chest and shoulders a little at a time as the material clung to his skin.

"Of course I undressed her. She was soaked. I'd do the same for you."

He smiled. An aggravating, condescending, beautiful smile.

He took off his pants, revealing a pair of red bikini shorts.

Melissa stepped back. He folded his pants, placed them on a table and smiled again. He was full of smiles. Melissa felt like crying.

"You look tired," Jud said. "C'mon, lets go swimming."

Melissa's refusal never left her mouth. Jud lowered his head in front of her, and before she could move, swept her feet off the floor. He held her to his chest. Her hands went behind his neck without her permission. She locked her fingers together and buried her face against his shoulder.

"I'm not going swimming. Go out there and get all wet again. I don't think there are any more towels around here. I'm not going."

Jud slid open the door leading to the pool area while he continued to hold her to his chest. She felt his muscles move as he carried her to the pool as easily as if she were a doll. The towel still was around her.

"Put me down."

The rain, coming straight down now, beat against her body like cool lotion.

"One," he said as he swung her over the pool. His ear was close enough to bite.

"Two." He swung her farther out over the pool.

"Don't you dare."

"Three." She sailed through the air. The towel flew from her body before she hit the water. She landed on her back, felt the sting of the water, and struggled to get her feet under her. She was treading water as she watched him toss his shorts aside and dive directly at her. She swam frantically to get away, delighted in knowing she didn't have a chance. He came from underneath her, lifted her out of the water like a dolphin playing with a toy, and pulled her body to his. He carried her to the edge of the pool. One hand disappeared into the water as he put her on her feet. He had her panties off before she could stop him. Did she even try? He placed them out of the water at the edge of the pool.

Melissa splashed water at him, ducked and swam under water. She ran out of air and rushed toward the top. Her head struck his knees. Her body rubbed against his as she struggled up against his hardness, his stomach, his chest and into his arms. She gasped for air. His arms enclosed her.

"Let me breathe," she whispered into his neck.

He eased his hold on her slightly. Desire shot through her body as her nipples throbbed against his chest. She slipped down and out of his arms. His knees gripped her head like a vice. He pulled her face to him. She mouthed him. As desperate for air as she was she resisted sinking her teeth into his flesh. He lifted her. Again her body rubbed against his. Her breasts and lungs were on fire. She managed to gulp air just before his lips pressed against hers. She pulled away, took a deep breath, and sought his mouth.

He carried her to the edge, lifted her out of the water, and placed her bottom on the cement. He smiled, ducked, and kissed her knees, the inside of her thighs. His head moved higher. She lay back, put her legs over his shoulders. After several nerve-tingling moments, when the pleasure was more than she could stand, she bent her knees, put her feet against his shoulders, and pushed. She slid across the wet cement, laughed, got up and ran toward the clubhouse.

She was half way there when he caught her, swept her off her feet again and carried her to a grassy spot away from the clubhouse. He laid her down gently. Rain pounded against them as she spread her legs.

***

A lifetime later Jud rolled off her body and laid on his side, relaxed and satisfied. Rain bounced off her flesh in the half light. What a painting the scene would make. Her hands at her sides, her shoulders back, her naked body glistening in the rain.

The smell of wet grass and earth erased thoughts of tomorrow, of complications, of commitment. How did this wonderful thing happen, anyway? When he lugged Addy home she crawled all over him, like she had so many times in the past. She refused to accept the fact that he no longer was interested in her. Had he ever been, really?

Undressing her, however, had increased his desire for Melissa. When she appeared nearly naked in the clubhouse he lost control. Now that it happened, he wasn't going to stop. She was waiting. He was swelling to the invitation. Was that steam he saw rising from her body as he took her into his arms again?

An hour or so later he carried her into the clubhouse, joined her in a shower. They dressed in silence. Goose bumps formed on her body as she wiggled into damp cloths. He struggled into his pants and carried his shirt. They walked hand in hand through the rain. She stood on her toes, kissed him hard for an instant and ran to her apartment building door.

"Good night," she whispered. She was gone. Jud stood in the rain, thought of following her, instead walked to his empty apartment.

***

Thoughts, plans, emotions raced through Melissa's head as she lay on her bed. She was sure she wouldn't be able to sleep with so much on her mind.

It was nine o'clock in the morning when she awoke. She stretched, remembered Jud, the rain, the feel of him inside her. She sighed, stretched again and resisted the urge to go back to sleep.

When she realized the time she dressed hurriedly and raced out the door and down the hall. She stopped, went back into the apartment, applied makeup to her lips and a little around her eyes. She wanted that wide eyed, innocent look. Innocent, ha. She felt like a native girl who had been under a waterfall with the prince of the island and was racing back for more. She fussed with her hair with a comb, laughed at herself in the mirror, and ran a hand through her hair. It was as stubborn as she was. Stubborn? She was determined not to get involved with Jud and now look at her. Involved up to her neck and loving it. Can life really be this good?

Outside she resisted the urge to run to the office, see if Jud was there. Dignity, she must display dignity. Her office phone was ringing when she entered the clubhouse. "Hello," she breathed into the phone. "I'm out of breath, just got here."

"I'll give you a moment to catch up," a pleasant woman's voice said. "Okay now?"

"Yes, how may I help you?" Melissa asked.

"I was at your party last night. It was a shame it had to rain the whole time. One of your renters invited me. I'd like to look at an apartment. I may want to rent one."

Melissa set up an appointment with the woman and two others who called. The day dragged on even though she was showing apartments most of the time and wound up renting three of them.

Where was Jud? How could he do this to her? All the time she was showing apartments and walking the prospective renters around the property her eyes searched for Jud. She saw Johnny once. He was carrying paint brushes and paint cans as he entered one of the buildings. Bringing supplies for Jud? He was going into Building Seven. She thought Jud was staying and working in Building Five now. If she ever got time would she'd go there and see if she could find him? No, she would not. She wouldn't be like a moon struck school girl chasing her heart throb. He should come to her. What was he doing? Was he having second thoughts? There were no second thoughts the night before. She'd be damned if she would look for him.

At five o'clock she closed the office and thought of going somewhere and getting something to eat. She was famished. Hadn't even had time to eat lunch. Jud must be hungry too. She'd find him, offer to bring him food. Maybe they could have a sort of picnic. At his place or hers?

She checked all the unoccupied apartments in building five. No answer to her knocks and all the apartments were locked. Where could he be? She sat on a bench in front of the building, her back bent, her face in her hands. Johnny trotted up and sat down.

"I've been looking all over for you. You weren't at your office or your apartment. I tried to get in touch several times earlier but never could catch you. Jud, Mister Wheeling, told me early this morning he was going to be gone today. Said he had to take a woman, don't remember her name, to the hospital. He was in such a hurry. I was supposed to tell you right away, but I couldn't find you."

"Addison Clarke?"

"Huh?" Johnny said.

"Addison Clarke, was that the woman he was talking about?"

"Yeah, I think that's the name he said. He was in such a hurry and telling me so many things to do. I think that was the name."

"Thanks Johnny," Melissa said.

So he took Addison to the hospital. But why would it take him all day? And what was the matter with her? She obviously had drunk too much. But it must be something more than that.

Melissa went back to the office and waited. Maybe he'd tried to call while she was out. Maybe he was running away from getting involved. So, what if he was? She didn't want to get involved either. They agreed they wanted to avoid ... and then he had to throw her in the swimming pool... She lost herself in the memory of the night before. The rain against their naked bodies, the heat of their passion, well, at least the heat of her passion. How could she be sure about his? Could he fake that? She smiled. Men don't fake that sort of thing, do they? But with them it's a thing of the moment, usually. Oh, what do I know? Who knows what men want? I don't even know what I want, although I knew last night and thought I knew this morning.

Shadows stretched across the parking lot as she looked out the window. Almost dark. She had been sitting there daydreaming for, how long?

It was obvious he wasn't going to call. She stood, stretched, and started for the door. She had to have food, no matter how awful she felt.

The phone rang. She stood still, let it ring again. She told herself not to be too disappointed if it wasn't Jud.

"Lovin' Arms, how may I help you?"

"Melissa?"

It was Jud. She managed to hide her delight at hearing his voice by letting her anger take over.

"As you might expect, I've been slightly interested in what happened to you. You do still work here, don't you?"

"I tried to call you several times. Either the phone was busy or no one answered. Didn't Johnny tell you?"

Melissa sat down, put her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone, and shuddered. She was scared. Had he called to say good-bye?

"Melissa, are you there?"

"Yes Jud, I'm here. How is that woman? What was wrong with her anyway?"

"She tried to commit suicide. She's done it before. I checked on her early this morning. She was sprawled out on the floor. An empty medicine bottle beside her didn't have a label on it. I took her to Naperton Central Hospital. They pumped her stomach, said she had taken a bottle of tranquilizers. She insisted she was going to kill herself as soon as she got out of the hospital."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is she, where, I mean..."

"I'm calling from her parent's house in Shelton."

"Shelton?"

"It's near Chicago. Her parents are on a trip. I’ll have to stay with her until they get back. I don't know where they went. If Addy knows, she won't tell me. The servants are gone. I'll get back as soon as I can turn Addy over to her parents. I know I'm not responsible for her, but what can I do? All day, while I've been trying to take care of her, I've been thinking of you."

Melissa's head swam. The phone was silent. She should say something, but what?

"I hope she'll be all right. Why would she want to kill herself? Did you make some promises then run out on her? Is she pregnant?"

"C'mon Melissa, I've had a hell of a day. She can't be pregnant. If she is I had nothing to do with it. I haven't, well you know, we haven't done it for months. Lots of months. It has nothing to do with you and me."

"It seems it does. You're in Shelton, and I'm here. I'm starving to death. Good night."

Melissa hung up as quietly as possible. She was at the door when the phone rang again. She wanted to leave, not answer it, but she couldn't do it.

"Look Jud," she said as she picked up the receiver.

A voice that made her skin crawl said, "I watched what you did last night. You wouldn't play with me but you didn't hold anything back with Mister Muscle, did you. I'm not through with you, you'll see."

Melissa slammed down the receiver and ran out of the building.

***

Jud tried to call Melissa again but the line was busy. She was pissed, that was for sure. He wondered who was on the line. Maybe a resident. He'd call her later. She didn't have any right to be angry. What could he do? Leave Addy alone so she could end her life? If he did he'd never forgive himself.

Addy was sleeping now on a couch, her lean face troubled, more signs of age around the eyes and mouth than he remembered seeing before. If he could only go back, change everything. He remembered the first time they met. She was sitting at the edge of a swimming pool – was it the Shelton Country Club? – holding a drink. Jud swam up. She scooted back from the edge of the pool, spread her legs and invited him to come to the edge. When he did she offered him her drink.

"My name's Addy, what's yours, handsome?" she'd said.

Before he could answer she said, "Where did you come from, heaven? I'm bored. You could change all that."

Jud said, "My parents are members here. I haven't been around much lately. I've been in the Caribbean, sailing."

"Really. Sounds like fun. Let's go back. I could be your crew. I don't know anything about sailing, but I could be useful in other ways. You'd enjoy it when we were dead in the water."

"I'm going up north to fish tomorrow. I guess I'm available until then if you want to..."

"What?" she said.

"Whatever," he replied. "We could go out to eat, dancing, whatever?"

"Then what?"

She was the most direct young woman Jud had ever met. He decided to be just as direct.

"I'm for playing around with sex, but not for commitment. I've got a lot of things I want to do before I settle down. If you want to go up north with me on those conditions, come along. I'm booked with a couple of guys, but I can get us a private cabin."

It hadn't been much fun, really. She was okay in bed, but other than that, it was dull. She didn't want to fish, didn't want to do anything, except have sex, drink and experiment with drugs.

Jud knew he was lucky. He could handle the liquor – most of the time – and had absolutely no desire to mess with other drugs. He'd seen too much of the results.

When Jud had suggested they return to Shelton she cried. He tried to comfort her and became her confessor. She told him of every affair she'd had since high school.

"They always wind up just like this. The guy wants to get rid of me."

"Get off it, Addy. You knew how I felt before you came with me. I told you, remember."

"Yes, shit, I remember. You don't have to remind me."

She poured herself another drink from a bottle of bourbon. No ice, no mix, just bourbon.

"But, fool that I am, I always hope it will be different."

"What can I do, Jud?"

"The first thing you should do is dry out, get off drugs and the booze. Maybe you should go to a shrink, I don't know."

By then Jud was leading her to the car. Soon she was asleep. He was relieved when a servant, a little woman with gray hair tied in a bun, came out of Addy’s parent's house, past the large, white pillars of the porch and down the steps to his car. She led Addy into the house. Jud backed down the long, red cement drive. He sighed with relief. He felt sorry for Addy then, but she wasn't his responsibility. And now? It wasn't the first time Addy had forced herself on him. Why did it make so much difference now? Because of Melissa? Of course. He'd never had a night like he had with Melissa. He'd never have another like it unless he played fair with her. He was sure she wouldn't put up with anything but the truth. Would she understand about Addy? And what of the other secret?

***

Melissa said, "Yes, I'm sure you'll be happy here, Mr. and Mrs. Anders. We are making improvements every day. You can move in next week. I'll see that the loose woodwork is repaired. In the meantime, if you have any questions, feel free to ask."

The young couple, he with long hair tied in back, her with short tousled hair and large, round eyes, had asked dozens of questions, most concerning their unborn child.

The young woman, Margie, had been worried about how her child would get to school. A school bus unloaded children in front of the clubhouse as they talked.

Seven children, four boys and three girls of various ages, poured from the bus, noisy and happy to be free of the classroom for another day.

Margie smiled, closed her hands around her husband's arm, and leaned into him. "It's just perfect isn't it Greg. Just think, our child, our daughter will be hopping down from that bus soon."

Greg smiled. "Yeah, come little mother, you're getting way ahead of yourself."

After they'd gone Melissa stood in the parking lot. Clouds were gathering. She'd have to keep an eye on them. She could hear splashing from the pool already. She'd have to check, make sure there were no kids at the pool without parents. It was one of the most annoying things about her job, making sure parents accompanied children when they were at the pool. But it kept, if for only a few minutes, her mind off Jud ... and Carleton. She had been busy. Three more apartments rented. At night she and Johnny were painting furiously, fixing up more apartments. Only twelve more to go. Things were turning in the right direction. The place would be making enough money soon so they could paint the outside of the buildings, make other improvements. They? Would Jud come back? She hadn't heard a thing from him all day. It had been three long days since he left. They? Well, maybe they would include Johnny Gordini and his family. They had been doing fine without Jud. Soon, however, she'd have to hire another maintenance man, someone who knew about plumbing and electricity.

She'd had to hire an electrician yesterday when she and Johnny were stumped by a kitchen that had no electricity. The electrician replaced a fuse, turned on the lights, found a short that knocked out the fuse he'd just installed, repaired the short, explained what he had done, and charged Melissa one-hundred and thirty-nine dollars.

That night she and Johnny were painting another apartment. While they painted Johnny's wife cleaned the carpeting. The two children, John John, and Minnie, sat in the far corner playing. Minnie furrowed her little brows as she held a broken crayon over a coloring book. John John made sputtering noises meant to sound like a truck as he pushed a plastic toy back and forth.

Melissa was near the top of a ladder, paint brush in hand, watching the children.

"They are such wonderful kids," she said. "How in the world do you get them to play so well together?"

"That's Caroline's department," Johnny said from the other end of the wall.

"Guess I've been daydreaming," Melissa said. "You're way ahead of me. I've got some ice cream and cake in my apartment. I'll go get it. I need a break."

Melissa climbed down from the ladder and bent down to the children.

"You guys do like ice cream and cake, don't you?"

Their scrubbed little faces glowed.

"Yes Aunt Melissa, we love ice cream," they said in unison.

"And cake, too," John John added.

Outside, Melissa let the tears seep from her eyes. They were so sweet. And their mother, Caroline, beamed whenever she gazed at them.

The tears continued to flow as Melissa retrieved ice cream from her refrigerator, put it in a paper sack with the cake and five plastic spoons and bowls. She sagged into a kitchen chair. Why didn't Jud at least call her? She had been on the phone and out of the office a lot. Maybe he got tired of trying to reach her. Melissa thought about the dreams of marriage, children, the whole domestic scene that had dazzled her mind since that night in the rain, that night with Jud.

She shook her head as if to toss the dream aside, got up and marched out of the apartment. Lovin' Arms Apartments were coming to life, even as she was dying inside. She didn't need Jud, she didn't need any man. She would stay right here, turn this place into a showcase. Live out her life here, enjoy other people's kids, watch them grow as they came to the swimming pool each summer, shout at them, laugh with them. They would be her family. She didn't need Jud. Carleton Chase? She shuddered at the thought of him watching as she and Jud made love. She'd smash his face in if he ever attacked her again. Maybe this time she'd really kill him. Her fear of him turned to horror at what she might do.

***

Jud raced away from the Clarke house in his convertible, free at last. Well, free once again of Addy, anyway. He wasn't free of Melissa, and, he realized, he didn't want to be. He'd have to keep the speed down as he ate up the miles between him and her. Would she still be angry with him? He had been trying to call her all day, off and on. When Addy wasn't on the phone talking to her parents the phone at Lovin' Arms was busy, or no one answered. Jud hoped that meant Melissa was showing apartments. He wanted that place to succeed now, more than ever. Addy had talked to her parents when they called from O'Hare. They were back from Europe. Addy had poured out a story of betrayal and humiliation, with Jud the villain.

When the parents finally arrived, Andrew Clarke, the father, tore into Jud for violating the innocence of his daughter. Jud listened, stood his ground.

"If you think your daughter is an innocent young thing, okay. If you think I took advantage of her, okay. If you give a damn about her you'll take the time to get to know her, to understand she needs help. In the meantime, she's been trying to commit suicide. I stayed with her to keep her from succeeding. Now it's your turn."

Jud turned to Addy, who was sitting in a chair with her face in her hands. "Get help Addy, get help. Good-bye."

Jud made one more attempt to call Melissa from his car phone. No answer. Of course. It was too late. She wouldn't be in the office at night. It was a struggle, keeping the speed down, as he drove south, drove toward Lovin' Arms and the arms of the woman he wanted to be with forever.

Jud had to stop to eat in spite of his desire to get to Melissa as soon as possible. He hadn't eaten a decent meal in two days. He made the mistake of stopping at a "family" restaurant. He ordered roast beef, mashed potatoes, peas and Texas toast. He was told by an overweight waitress that was the day's special. He figured, if what he ordered was the special, it would be served quickly. He was wrong. It took forever to get the food. He wolfed it down. At least his stomach was satisfied and no longer growled at him.

It was late when Jud skidded into the parking lot in front of the Lovin' Arms Apartments clubhouse. No lights in the office. He figured she must be in her apartment asleep and would be angry if he woke her, unless...

CHAPTER SEVEN

It wasn't as good as strolling minstrels strumming guitars and singing love songs, but the CD player in his car was louder.

His selections were limited. The only one that seemed appropriate at all was a golden oldies recording featuring some of the big bands of the past.

He had used it on various occasions when he thought cool dance music would lead to hot passion. He inserted the disc, turned up the volume, and drove slowly down the drive in front of the apartment buildings.

Surely Melissa, as manager, would not put up with such nonsense this late at night. When Jud reached the end of the drive he turned the car around and drove slowly back to the first building. He was on his third trip when she appeared, flashlight in hand, hair tousled, eyes blazing as his headlights hit her. She waved the flashlight in his direction as she shielded her eyes with the other hand. Jud turned off the music and the motor, jumped out of the car and raced to Melissa with open arms.

She raised the flashlight as if to strike him and held him at bay with her free hand.

"What do you think you're doing? You'll wake the whole complex if you haven't already. Are you drunk?"

"No I'm not drunk. I finally got away from Addy. I wanted to see you, tell you I love you. The last couple of days have been hell for me."

"I'll bet. Addy must be a terrible lover."

"Lover! I told you why I had to stay with her. She's sick. If I left her alone she'd have killed herself. How could I live with that? Her parents are home from Europe now. It's their responsibility. As soon as I could I rushed right back here. What more do you want?"

This wasn't what Jud had planned. He was angry. Melissa looked angry. How could things have gone so wrong?"

***

Melissa doused the flashlight and turned away from the car's head lamps. No need to let Jud see the tears. Why was she crying anyway? She had been waiting, hoping, dreaming of his coming back, he was here, but now she was angry. She had been sleeping fitfully when the music invaded her apartment.

She had tried to go back to sleep but the music faded, came back, faded, came back. Finally she realized where it was coming from. She thought it was probably some drunk, trying to serenade an angry wife perhaps, and, in the meantime, waking all the residents. She had to do something. She should get Johnny to be there when she confronted this person, but decided to do it by herself and get it over with. She was the manager. She shouldn't have to rely on a man to be with her when she did her job.

If Jud were there, like he should be, he probably would have silenced this noisy intrusion, and she would still be asleep. She was thinking how maybe he would mumble in her ear as he slipped out of bed to deal with the dragon.

Now here he was, the idiot.

"Why haven't you called me? Oh, never mind. Just go to bed and let me sleep. I'm tired. Johnny and I worked late. I worked all day answering the phone and renting apartments. Go away."

Melissa turned. Jud scooped her up from behind, carried her into the building, and closed the door.

"You can't leave your car in the middle of the road. What if somebody steals it?"

"The car be damned."

"You just put me down and go away. We'll discuss all this in the morning. Go away."

Melissa pushed herself away from his chest, resisting the almost overwhelming desire to snuggle, to bite his ear, to ... no, she would not give in.

"Put me down this instant," she demanded.

His arms, which had been carrying her as gently as if she were a baby, in spite of her struggling, closed on her like a vice. Her face was pressed against his chest. She thought her ribs would snap. The pressure eased after an instant, he lowered her to her feet, turned his back, and slammed the door as he left the building.

She didn't move. She heard the car start up, heard him drive away. Was he going to his apartment or was he leaving again, this time for good?

Her thoughts turned to the apartment complex. If the noise woke her, as tired as she was, it must have aroused most of the residents. Another thing to worry about. Later, in bed, she remembered the pressure of his skin against hers, the strength of him, the tenderness and the anger.

She tossed and turned, slept a little maybe, and got up two hours before normal. She thought of going to the office, but no, Jud might be there. She didn't want to see him. Yes she did. She tried to read, paced, and finally it was dawn.

She took her time getting to the office. Her mind left Jud for a moment as she admired the flower beds in front of the buildings, and the clean look of the place. Perhaps it was the morning light. Could the place really look this good in the short time she had been there? She couldn't take all the credit for the improvements. Look at how hard Jud had worked, before she got there and after, until he left.

And Johnny and his wife. She must not forget them. They both worked as hard as she had.

She was relieved, and at the same time disappointed, when Jud wasn't at the office. She made coffee, sat at a table near the pool, and dawdled, reluctant to get to work. She had plenty of book work to do and soon, she hoped, the phone would start ringing. There would be the usual renter complaints. Some of them she could handle herself. The others she would relay to Johnny. Since Jud had left she had purchased a couple of cell phones so she could contact Johnny no matter where he was working.

She had finished her coffee, was thinking of getting something to eat, when the phone rang. She hurried into the office and listened as a potential customer talked about what she was seeking in an apartment.

Melissa explained what was available and repeated what had become routine now, the request for references. She had discovered in her study of apartment complex management that one of the most important things was to rent to reliable people.

Later she received a complaint about a clogged toilet from a renter in Building Six on the second floor. She called Johnny. That's another thing she had learned although it was just common sense. Do something as soon as possible about legitimate complaints.

Jud answered. She recognized his voice. Still, she said, "Johnny, I've got a clogged toilet in Building Six. Get on it as soon as possible, please. Apartment Two-Zero-Two. Okay?"

"Sure boss, right away."

Damn him. He must know she wouldn't mistake his deep voice for Johnny's. Was that his plan? Was he going to ignore her? At least he must be working again. She hated how relieved she was that he still was there.

It was three days before she saw him again. However, she talked to him on the phone several times each day.

"The electric stove in Building Four, apartment One Zero One won't work. Probably shorted out. Check on it as soon as possible please."

"Right boss."

That was the extent of his response. It was annoying and, she had to admit, amusing, or it would have been if it wasn't so juvenile. If it bothered her so much, why didn't she do something about it? But what? If he wanted to play the waiting game she could do the same. Besides, she was too busy to mess with him anyway.

It had become routine to fetch Johnny's kids, Minnie and John John, every afternoon after she closed the office, and take them to the pool. She enjoyed being with them and it gave her a chance to wind down from the constantly arising problems of the day.

"We should call you minnow," she'd told Minnie, "the way you take to water. You really can swim."

"What's a minnow, Aunt Melissa?"

"It's a little fish, like you darling," Melissa said.

"What about me?" John John insisted. "I can swim, too."

"Sure you can, only you're bigger than a minnow. Let's call you a buffalo."

Both children laughed. "A buffalo's not a fish," John John scoffed. "I'm a shark, call me a shark."

"All right shark. But don't get too brave. Stay here in the shallow end where I can see you."

Melissa stretched out on a lounge beside the pool and sighed. She'd like to lie in the sun and go to sleep, but she had to stay awake to keep an eye on the children. She was glad to watch them. It gave their mother a break while she prepared supper. And Melissa loved being with the children, especially now that she was alone otherwise. Oh, there was plenty of contact now with the renters. Many of them had formed the habit of stopping by the office just to talk. It was becoming a part of the community feeling Melissa wanted to restore. But it took a lot of her time. Soon she would have to hire an assistant. There actually was money in the bank. The next big project was painting the buildings and then, if the occupancy rate continued to improve, maybe she could eventually have all of the buildings re-roofed.

John John had found another boy about his age to play with. They were splashing water on each other. Minnie was standing near the edge of the pool, in water up to her waist, talking to a little boy who was crying.

Melissa reluctantly struggled up from the lounge and went to the edge of the pool. She was annoyed. Where were the boy's parent. Surely he wasn't there by himself. Just then a woman the size of a boxcar pushed Melissa aside and pulled the boy from the pool.

"A little water in your face doesn't hurt. I'll dry it off with a towel. Then get back in and play or we're going home. You want to come, but you always end up crying."

The woman's voice trailed off as she walked away with the child in her arms. Melissa settled back on the lounge, checked to make sure Minnie and John John were safe and closed her eyes.

"Go ahead and relax. You look tired. I'll watch them."

The voice, that wonderful deep voice, came from behind her. It was Jud; she had no doubt of that. What to say? Several retorts raced through her mind. She decided to say nothing. She just closed her eyes.

***

Jud reasoned he had as much right as anyone to use the swimming pool after a day of sweltering work. He knew she'd be there. Johnny had told him how the children looked forward to going each day and being with "Aunt Melissa."

Jud grabbed a chaise lounge, put it beside Melissa's and settled in. The sun was hot. He wanted to be in the water. If she was going to give him the silent treatment there was no reason to sit by her anyway. But he had offered to watch the children.

"I'm surprised you aren't in the water with them. It's so damned hot."

No answer. He stepped into the pool where the water came up to his knees. He made sure John John saw him coming so he wouldn't scare him, ducked his head and came up with the boy on his shoulders. Minnie wanted the same ride. Soon a group of young children gathered. They all splashed and begged for a ride on his shoulders.

He kept his back, as much as possible, to Melissa, but he had the feeling she was watching. There was no end to the energy the children possessed and the ceaseless activity actually began to wear Jud down. He was staggering around, feigning overwhelming fatigue, when Melissa tapped him on the shoulder and said, "You're relieved."

He took a step back from her, ducked his head and rose up with her on his shoulders. The feel of her sent shivers through his veins. His hands caressed her thighs as she struggled to free herself. Did she really want to get away?

"Stop it Jud. We're ... I'm here to watch the children. I can't watch them if you're going to act like a juvenile. Stop it."

He dumped her into the water face first and strode out of the pool. He had joined the children in the water to cool off, but now his blood was boiling. What was he going to do with this woman? This woman who had been so warm, so vibrant and now could aggravate him at the drop of a word.

He sat on a chair away from where she had been and pouted. He knew he was doing it, he knew, if she was watching, that she could see he was pouting, but he couldn't stop it. Damn her.

He would leave the apartment complex in a minute if he hadn't promised his folks. And it was invigorating, watching the place blossom from his and the Gordini family's work. She thought she was so damned important, it was their work that was making the place succeed. What did she do? Rent the apartments. Anyone could do that. Well, maybe not anyone, but ... Well, okay, she did have the right personality for it, people liked her, even he liked her when she wasn't tormenting him with that body, with those eyes, lips, he got up, took one last look at her, and left.

***

Melissa watched the children, tried to be enthusiastic while playing with them, but her heart wasn't in it. She coaxed them out of the pool and took them home.

She walked back to her apartment. She sat on the bed and stared at the wall. Why did she have to be so stubborn? Why, since that was what she longed for, didn't she just give in to the brute, love him, and let the sparks fly?

She knew why, of course. There had never been the intensity she felt now. Maybe it was a reaction to Carleton Chase trying to force himself on her. Jud was different. He could snap Carleton like a twig, carry her off like a warrior claiming a prize, but when he was sweeping her off her feet she just knew he would stop if she insisted. She had been a willing partner. But what about his involvement with other women? And here was a man who appeared to be capable of great things, of anything he wanted, and he was working for practically nothing at a rundown apartment complex. And driving an expensive convertible. Something wasn't right, but what? Where would it leave Melissa when he tired of whatever game he was playing.

She had plenty to do. Maybe it would help keep her mind off of Jud. There was her apartment. It was on the ground floor of the building closest to the office. She planned to stay in it permanently. It needed a lot of work. The walls needed painting, the woodwork was marred, and the carpet was so soiled it had to be replaced. And the awful toilet. The seat was broken, the inside of the bowl was a crawly gray-green color, and the damned thing nearly overflowed every time she flushed it.

She called Johnny on the cell phone. Did she know Jud would answer? Maybe, but she assured herself she wanted Johnny. How else could she contact him? She should have said something to him when she escorted the children home from the pool.

Jud answered the call.

"I'm sorry to bother you. Could you tell Johnny that I need him at my apartment? The toilet is just impossible and I don't have a plunger to clear it."

"I'll take care of it. Which apartment are you in now?"

"No, I want Johnny to do it. Just tell him, please?"

She thumbed the off button. She'd have to get another cellular phone so she could contact Johnny without going through Jud. She was on her knees sanding woodwork in the living room when there was a knock on her door. "Come in," she shouted, "door's unlocked. I'm sorry to bother you, but this'll only take a minute. Toilet's clogged. It nearly overflows when I flush it. One more flush and I'm afraid it will. Thanks Johnny."

She continued to sand the strip of woodwork and was happy to see that most of the scratches were not too deep.

"I hope I didn't take you away from your dinner," Melissa said during a pause in her work. No answer. "Johnny?"

She turned toward the bathroom. Jud was in the doorway, leaning against the jam, watching her.

"Where's Johnny? I told you to tell Johnny."

"Johnny is a family man. Why bother him when this lonely man is available?"

"Did you fix the toilet?"

"Not yet. What did you flush down it?"

"I didn't flush anything down it. Nothing that would clog it. It was that way when I moved in."

"I'll see what I can do. It's nice and cool in here. I guess it's time I moved into an apartment permanently and started running the air myself."

"It's cool until you start working. Look at the way I'm sweating."

Melissa returned to her sanding. She had tried to keep newspapers under the work but sawdust was all over her and the area around where she was working. She tossed the worthless newspapers aside and rubbed furiously. Let the sawdust get into the carpet, she was going to replace it anyway. As soon as Jud gets out of here I'm going to stop for the night and take a shower. I feel like a pig. She paused, sat back on her haunches, and sighed. She hadn't heard the sound of water being sloshed around. How could he fix the toilet without making any noise? Was he still leaning against the door jam watching her? She had resisted looking as long as she could. He wasn't there. She stood up, her legs shaky from being bent so long. She turned just as his arms surrounded her. He brushed sawdust from her lips with a tender touch and kissed her. She smelled sweat. His or hers?

"You need a good dose of deodorant, mister. Let me go. I'll have Johnny fix the toilet later. Or just leave the plunger, I'll do it myself."

He held her close, lifted her feet from the carpet, and carried her into the bathroom. The lid was up on the awful stool. He flipped it down as he held her with one arm. She stopped struggling.

He carried her to the bathtub, reached in and turned on the shower. "Should we make it hot or cold? At least warm. What do you think?"

He stepped back and slowly lowered her feet to the floor. He stood in front of the door.

"I'm going to take a shower," he said as he flipped off sandals and unfastened his shorts. They fell to the floor. She looked away from his rising manhood.

***

Jud hadn't planned it, or if he had, he kept the idea suppressed as he talked Johnny into telling him where Melissa was living.

"She's in Building One, the first apartment on the ground floor, but you don't have to go. I'll do it. We're through eating supper anyway. Okay?"

"No Johnny. You stay with your family. I've got nothing to do. It'll only take a minute."

Jud picked up a toilet plunger from the truck and walked to Melissa's building. He had ignored her as long as he could. Maybe it was the heat, but he was dizzy with desire for her. Why did it have to be this way? There were plenty of other women. He could even contact one of his former girlfriends, have her come and live with him. Somebody less trouble than Addy. Somebody who would take care of his needs and let it go at that. It would serve Melissa right. He didn't need her. And yet? And yet here he was sweating and miserable, going to her apartment to fix a toilet, just so he could make himself more miserable by being near her. Who did she think she was?

And then, when he came into the apartment she didn't even bother to look at him, just assumed he was Johnny. Why should it make him angry? Because this woman with the determination of a lioness was driving him crazy. He couldn't get the image of the two of them in the rain out of his mind. And here she was ignoring him. She didn't even know he was there. He stood in the bathroom doorway looking at her. It would only take a second to unplug the toilet. He was reluctant to do it. Then he'd have no excuse for hanging around, and, judging from the way she had been acting, she was not likely to invite him to stay.

He watched her sit back on her haunches and moved around behind her. When she looked toward the bathroom and then stood he wrapped his arms around her. He expected a scream, but there was none. Her skin, even with sawdust on it, was soft. And her lips, so inviting with a hint of a sawdust mustache. Warm and vibrant. He needed warm and vibrant. It was there before him. He brushed the sawdust from her lips and kissed her. Without thinking about it he picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. She surely would reject him, the way he must smell after sweating all day. Maybe if they took a shower together.

***

"I suppose you're going to claim you don't have a shower in your apartment. You've got a nerve," Melissa said.

"Are you going to join me in the shower or not? I'll let you wash my back or whatever."

"Isn't that nice of you," Melissa said. He was facing her. He was away from the bathroom door now. She could walk out, close the door, let him take a shower.

"It looks like you should take a really cold shower," Melissa said.

"Sorry," Jud said. "I have no control."

Melissa was wearing a pair of paint-spattered shorts. Her legs were covered with sawdust. Her face must be dirty. She had planned to take a shower anyway. I have no control either, she told herself, as she slipped out of her clothes.

Jud stood in the bathtub waiting. She stepped into his arms. He lifted her against the sweating skin of his stomach and chest. Her legs wrapped around him. She caught her breath as he slid her body down until the fire of him entered her slowly, the glow spreading until she thought she would melt.

He stepped out of the tub and carried her out of the bathroom. He placed her on the bed, gently, ever so gently, and stood staring down at her.

"We're going to get my bed all sweaty," Melissa complained.

"Yes, we certainly are. I'll help you put on clean sheets later."

The last words came out as a whisper. His lips caressed areas of her body, creating sensation wherever they touched. She responded as the smell, the feel, the sound of him filled her. Their bodies perspired, the moisture blending as did their desire, until there was nothing for either of them except the other.

Later, after Melissa had regained her ability to breathe normally, she stretched out on her back in total relaxed satisfaction.

Jud said, "Let's wait until morning to take that shower and change the sheets."

CHAPTER EIGHT

Melissa had rented five more apartments and was talking on the phone to a prospect the day the Lincoln Town Car parked in front of her office. The uniformed driver, a thin man with a stiff back, got out of the car. He opened the back door and stood aside as a plump woman emerged. The woman's suit, purse and shoes all were the same pleasant blue as a lazy summer sky. The woman smiled at the chauffeur and stood beside him as a large man with thinning gray hair combed over a bald spot struggled out of the back seat. He stood with the aid of a black cane. His dark suit was tailored to fit every contour of his protruding stomach, his broad shoulders and his long legs. There was something familiar about him. And the woman, too. She reminded Melissa of the queen of England.

Melissa looked away from the parking lot so she could focus on the prospective renter on the phone. She hung up with a feeling she was close to renting another apartment. The man from the Lincoln tapped on the side of her open office door with his cane.

"Come in, please," Melissa said. She thought of her clothes. She was wearing that awful dress that hung on her like a sack. Now that she and Jud had given up the pretense that they were not going to get involved she should start dressing more like someone from the present century.

"I'm looking for Judson," the man said. His voice rumbled off the walls like distant thunder. Melissa looked at him, startled. He seemed so familiar, yet she was certain she never had seen him before. She wouldn't forget such a man.

"Where is he?"

"Judson? Oh, Jud. Yes, he's working on the parking areas in back of the buildings. Trimming bushes or something. If you go behind the buildings you'll probably see him. Or do you want me to call him, tell him there is someone here to see him?"

The man stepped away from the door and the woman came into the room and sat down in a chair across from Melissa's desk.

"You go find him, Henry. I'd like to talk to the young lady."

"All right. But don't drag it out. I've got to get back, you know."

"Yes dear."

The man left. Silence. The woman smiled as she examined the room, the window and, finally, Melissa. Her eyes were kind, familiar somehow, and inquisitive. Melissa wished the phone would ring.

"Are you interested in renting an apartment?"

Melissa regretted the question as soon as she spoke. Of course this elegant woman and her mountain of a husband – surely they were man and wife – didn't want to rent an apartment. Yet, Melissa decided, it was a legitimate question. Why else would they be in her office? Maybe they wanted to buy the complex.

"No, thank you, my dear. Henry and I are here to see Judson. Henry is so proud of him. He says Judson is turning this place into a profitable enterprise. That's what Henry is interested in, profitable enterprises.

"I thought I'd just stay out of the way while they talk. It isn't often Henry and Judson take time to talk. You seem so young to be in this office alone. I hope Judson hasn't put too much responsibility on your shoulders. I know Judson hates to be in an office."

"You're Judson's mother?"

"Why yes. I'm sorry. Henry is always in such a hurry he makes me forget my manners. I'm Phyllis Wheeling. Henry is my husband, Judson's father."

Melissa was speechless.

"How is he? Does he seem happy here? We pushed him into this. It wasn't making any money and Henry, well his corporation really, was going to sell this place. Henry and I thought if we could get Judson to accept the challenge of turning it into a profitable business, well, we hoped it would cause him to settle down, maybe even get married. What do you think?”

Melissa remained speechless.

“I mean, does he, well you know, have a girlfriend? He wouldn’t tell us. The first thing we'd probably hear about it was when he invited us to the wedding. I do so want grandchildren. Judson is our only child so it's up to him. Are you married?"

Melissa leaned against the desk. Jud was the son of the head of the corporation that owned Lovin' Arms. Another Carleton Chase!

"Oh, I'm sorry. You asked if I'm married. No, I'm not."

"In my day a woman like you would be married and have a couple of children. Oh dear, not that you're so old. I didn't mean that. Don't pay any attention to me. I have a tendency, Henry says, to embarrass people. Did I embarrass you?"

Melissa shook her head. Apparently the outburst of conversation was over. Melissa tried to think of something to say.

"He seems quite happy here," she finally managed.

"He does," Mrs. Wheeling said. "I'm so happy. But still, he isn't likely to meet anyone here who he would want to marry."

Melissa said, "No, I don't suppose. That's a stunning outfit you're wearing. Such a cool color."

"Oh, thank you. I don't have too many occasions to get dressed up any more. Henry hates social events. Of course we are getting on in years. I don't mind staying home in the evening as much as I used to. I still enjoy my clubs and the charity work."

Melissa stood and said, "I'm sorry, I should have offered you coffee. It's fresh," she said, pointing to the pot beside her desk.

"Oh, thank you, but no. I don't drink coffee. Henry will be along soon. If he and Judson have been talking all this time it will be unusual. Judson is just like his father that way. He is my pride and joy though. He's so handsome. Henry used to look like that."

Mrs. Wheeling continued to talk. Melissa wasn't listening. So Jud was the son of the head of the corporation that owned the apartments. No wonder he didn't care about how little he earned. No wonder he didn't want to get involved with a peon like her. How soon would he decide to leave? Where would that leave Melissa? She thought she loved him. Thought maybe he loved her, or at least, hoped he did. But no, she was just something for him to toy with while he played a little game for mommy and daddy. The bastard. The rotten bastard. A tear trickled down her check. She yanked a Kleenex from it's box, wiped her face and glared at Jud as he came into the office with his father.

"So," Mister Wheeling said, "you're the young lady Judson says has done such a commendable job of managing this place. I'm sure he's too modest. He must have done a lot of it himself. Nevertheless young lady, you'll be rewarded. I'm going to see that your contract is renegotiated, get you a boost in pay."

Melissa heard him, how could she not hear that booming voice, but she didn't care.

"Now that Judson and you have turned this place around I'll urge the corporation to invest some money in it. They can advance enough to paint the buildings, whatever else you need. You figure that out, Judson. Within reason, always within reason, Judson. Come Phyllis, we must get going. Nice to meet you, er, I didn't catch your name. No matter, they'll know at headquarters. Good work, Judson."

Melissa watched through the window as Jud hugged his mother and shook hands with his father. The chauffeur opened the door, Mrs. Wheeling and Mr. Wheeling got in. Jud had an animated conversation with the chauffeur. Jud waved, hesitated and came into the office after the chauffeur drove away.

He stood in front of her desk, pointed toward the outside and said, "Those are my parents."

"Yes, you ... you. You are the son of the owner of this place and you ... you let me think, oh, I don't know what I think. I think you're awful, get out of here. Just get out of here, and let me alone."

"But why, what's the matter? Why does meeting my parents turn you into a hellcat? I don't apologize for my parents, I can tell you that. They may have their faults, but I love ‘em."

"Your parents are fine. It's you. Why didn't you tell me you were the son of the owner? Pretending you care about me, about this place. It's disgusting. Get out of here, please, and leave me along. I'm going to cry, damn it, and I don't want you here when I do."

"My dad's not the owner. He's head of the corporation. He did talk me into working here, but so what?"

He threw his hands toward the ceiling, turned and walked out. Melissa sagged into the chair behind her desk and put her head in her hands. Before she could cry the phone rang. She listened as a man said he was interested in renting an apartment. Melissa would cry later.

***

Jud stood outside the office. He thought of going back in and trying to reason with Melissa. He heard the phone ring. No use trying to talk to her then. He walked back behind the buildings and returned to trimming the bushes. He was surprised at how pleased he was when his father praised him and glowed with enthusiasm at what he thought was Jud's accomplishment alone in the apartment complex.

"I didn't do this alone, father," he said then. "The woman who was hired to manage the place, Melissa Malden, has had an awful lot to do with bringing the place back to life."

"Yes," his father had said. "I knew they hired a manager. But I can see your hand in all the improvements. I'm proud of you, son. I knew you could do it."

His father had started talking about other parts of the corporation, other properties that Jud could study.

"I've still got a lot to learn here, sir, and I want to stay and see this place become successful again."

"Well, there's no hurry, but you don't want to get bogged down in a small operation like this. There's big things ahead for you, my boy."

The happiness he felt in knowing he had pleased his parents vanished when Melissa tore into him. What the hell had he done?

Maybe he should have told her about his father, but what difference did it make?

Now here was this ... this nobody who ... no Melissa was not a nobody. He cared more about her than he had any other girl, woman, but what the hell?"

He cut too deeply into the bushes with the trimmer. Now he'd have to wait until they grew out to get the spot trimmed evenly again. It was Melissa's fault. Maybe his father was right. Maybe he should move on to bigger things. Let her stay here and have her crazy moods. Did he have to apologize for being his father's son? Of course not. He threw the trimmer to the ground, picked it up and hoped he hadn't damaged it. They didn't need to waste money buying another one just because he couldn't control his anger. He returned the trimmer and the other equipment he had been using to the tool shed near the compost bin and went to his apartment. He shaved, took a shower, dressed and got his convertible out of its parking space. He drove out of the apartment complex, going particularly slow as he passed Melissa's office. He hoped she saw him, hoped she was satisfied now that she had driven him away.

***

Melissa didn't get a chance to really cry until she got back to her apartment. She had received three calls from residents complimenting her on the way the place had been cleaned up. Two of the callers wanted to know when there was going to be another party.

Henny stopped in, they had tea from bags Henny provided, and discussed, between phone calls, Henny's great grandchildren and Melissa's need to take time for the womanly things.

"How is Judson?" Henny asked. "I haven't seen him all day."

When Melissa tried to discuss plans for another party, Henny said, "You should take time to get your hair and nails fixed. And Melissa, honey, you should get rid of that dress. It looks like an overused sack. Excuse me for being so blunt, but I like you and that's one of the privileges of age, you can say what you want."

"You're absolutely right, Henny. I'm going to close the office an hour early, get an appointment to get may hair cut and my nails done and ... and I'm going to throw away this awful dress. I've got attractive clothes. I'm going to start wearing them again."

Melissa called three places before she found one that could work her in for a trim and manicure. The salon was in Majority Shopping Mall the other side of Naperton. She showered, changed into a business jacket and skirt, put a touch of perfume behind one ear and left Lovin' Arms. Maybe she would leave for good.

"I haven't had time to do this for several weeks, as I'm sure you can tell," she told the manicurist after her hair was trimmed. The woman, Marge was her name, struggled to bring her nails back to a civilized state. Marge, slight with large, black-rimmed glasses, had long, wavy hair. It reminded Melissa of the gleaming hair of a horse's tail she had seen once. Jud was the only horse's tail she had seen since she came to the apartment complex. Was she being fair to him? Maybe she should give him a chance. After all, he could have been telling the truth about that Addison Clarke woman. As a matter of fact, she thought, if I don't trust him, why do I love him? Do I? Love him?

"There," Marge said.

Melissa admired her nails, thanked her, paid her bill amid a plea from the hair dresser to come back and stepped outside into ... what? The mall offered several stores featuring women's clothes, two restaurants, several other stores that did not interest Melissa and the Movie House. One of the features was Love, Sort Of. She decided to see it even though she had never heard of the featured actors.

***

Jud was half way to Bellwood Country Club before he realized he didn't have his golf clubs. And he really wanted to, needed to smack a golf ball. Oh well, he could pretend to be interested in buying a driver, they would let him try it out. If he had to he'd just go ahead and buy one. He wanted to hit something.

He had smashed two-thirds of a bucket of balls with a driver he obtained from the pro shop when he realized he had an audience.

The slender woman was dressed in white shorts and a black halter. She was sitting in a metal lawn chair with her long, tanned legs stretched toward him. She wore scuffed golf shoes.

"It's hot out there," she said.

"Out there? Oh, you mean on the golf course. I'll bet it is."

"No, I mean out there." She pointed toward Jud. "On the driving range. You're wet with sweat and yet you keep smacking those balls. I don't think I've ever seen anyone swing so hard. You drive them a mile when you connect, but you don't strike the ball cleanly that often. Why don't you relax, you're strong enough you don't have to crush every shot."

Jud stepped out of the sun into the shade under the tree where the woman was sitting. He leaned on the club and crossed one ankle over the other.

"You're right, it is hot. I was trying to work something out, guess I got carried away."

"I can see you have a good swing, but you'll ruin it if you don't stop trying to kill the ball. Here, let me show you. Sit down for a minute. Take a load off."

Jud sat down. He watched as she adjusted the long-billed cap she wore over bleached, short hair that insisted on escaping.

She put a ball on the rubber tee, addressed it, presented an eye-catching waggle, took a low, slow back swing that carried the club head level with her shoulders, make just the slightest pause before the club started back, and then, in a beautiful arc that seemed effortless, hit the ball well past the two-hundred-yard marker.

"See," she said as she turned and faced Jud.

"See what?" Jud said. "Oh, you mean the drive. Yes, I saw that, too. You must be the club pro. Are you setting me up for a lesson?"

"Yes, I am the club pro, when I'm not out on tour. I'm just trying to help."

"You've helped already, my dear. Here, let me show you."

Jud took the club from her, placed a ball on the tee and took several practice swings. He was trying to regain the rhythm he knew was needed to strike a golf ball with authority. Forget the anger, he told himself. Forget it and hit the ball the way you know you can.

He addressed the ball, paused for a second to relax his muscles, drew the club back even further than the woman had, and drove the ball straight and at least fifty yards beyond the woman's drive.

"Well, excuse me," the woman said. She smiled. "I guess you were trying to work something out, but apparently it had nothing to do with your golf swing."

"May I buy you a drink?" Jud asked. "I've got to return this club to the pro shop first."

"Well, yeah, why not. I've got a few minutes before the next lesson."

Jud had a bottle of Old Style and the woman drank a cola.

"Are you really a golf pro, I mean on the tour?"

"Yes, I'm trying. I don't know how much longer I'll last. It's a matter of money. I'm just about out. I thought I was good enough. So do a lot of others. But, let me tell you, those women you see on television week after week, now that's good. They make great shots nearly all the time, the rest of us do it only half the time or less. See. You never should have started me talking about the tour. Got to go. Giving a lesson to the club president's wife. Mustn't be late for that."

Jud finished his beer, ordered another, and thought of how, at one time, not so long ago, he had thought of trying the men's tour. He tried to qualify, but failed. He saw right away, even among the golfers trying to qualify, that he didn't belong unless he wanted to devote his life to it as many of the others were doing. He didn't want it that bad.

Jud had finished his second beer and was thinking of ordering another when the woman returned and perched on the bar stool beside him.

"Give me another Coke, Jake, and give Mister ... er, this man an Old Style. Put it on my tab, please."

"Okay, Kate," the bartender said.

"Kate what?" Jud asked.

"Kate Collins. I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself. I really thought you needed help when I watched you whacking at the ball out there. I shouldn't have butted in. But that's how I get customers."

Jud shook the woman's hand, and said, "My name is Jud Wheeling. I'm connected with the apartment complex outside of town, Lovin' Arms."

"Do you own it?"

"No. And don't apologize for butting in, as you put it. I was angry about something and was taking it out on the golf balls. Not the best way to practice. Tell me more about the tour. Did you ever make any money?"

They talked. They ate together in the dining room, returned to the bar and talked more. Jud had forgotten to keep track of the number of beers he drank. He knew it was too many. And he had switched to scotch and soda. He knew better than that. But this was different. He had a right to some fun. To hell with Melissa.

"Why don't you take me home with you or, if you like, I'll take you home?" Jud said as he watched Kate's eyes. You can always tell if you watch the woman's eyes, he told himself.

"Don't get the wrong idea, mister. I enjoyed talking to you, but that's all. Besides, I think you've had a little too much to drink and are trying to forget someone else. Is that why you were so angry?"

Jud insisted there was no other woman and never would be.

He turned to face her when she put her hand on his shoulder. She said, "I'm not going to go inside your place, but I will, if you'll let me, drive you home. I'll bring your car back to the parking lot here and turn your keys in. You can pick it up tomorrow. You really shouldn't drive."

"I know that. I was going to take a cab."

"Well, you're all set then. Nice talking to you."

"Hey, wait a minute. Let's talk some more. Don't leave me here all alone, crying in my beer, my scotch."

"It's getting late. I'll drive you home if you want, but it will have to be now. I've got some early lessons tomorrow and I've got to get some practice in."

"We could practice now," Jud said.

He'd show Melissa. Let this woman with the long legs, longer that Melissa's, take him home. He'd talk her into coming into his apartment, staying all night."

"Okay, Kate old buddy, you can drive me home. I'll tell you the way."

The next thing Jud knew Kate was shaking him violently. He turned away from her. She turned his face and slapped it, at first just little pats that seemed kinda nice, and then she was whacking him awake.

"We're here. Which building do you live in? Come on you big jerk, wake up and tell me where you live."

"Building three, apartment two-oh-three," Jud mumbled.

Jud went through the whole waking process again after Kate parked the convertible in front of Building Three. No one was supposed to park in front, but Jud wasn't going to tell her that. He threw his arms in her direction. She eluded him, got out of the car and came around to his side. She opened the door and said, "Come on Romeo, get out and go home. Sleep it off. You won't even remember me in the morning. And no, I'm not going to take you to your apartment. I'll dump you out right here if you don't get off your ass and walk. I know you can do it."

She was right. He could do it. And he did. He only staggered a little at first. He turned to wave at her from the building, but she already was gone, with his car.

***

Love, sort of, was sort of a lousy movie, Melissa decided. Word must have gotten around because there were only ten other people in the small theater during the presentation. Two of those were teenagers who spilled popcorn and laughed in all the wrong places. Melissa moved, watched perhaps another twenty minutes, and left.

As miserable as she felt, she was hungry. She'd indulge. Why diet anyway? Who cared how fat she got?

She ordered roast beef and gravy at the Homestyle Cafe. As she waited for her order she watched a man dig at his teeth with a gold toothpick. He stared at her with bulging eyes. The image of his open mouth, large eyes and stringy hair stayed with her as she turned her back to him. A young couple talked between enthusiastic bites of food. She tried not to listen but overheard, "I just can't wait to get back to the bed, honest Terry, I just can't wait."

The young man's eyes glowed as he chewed a piece of meat. The young woman smiled.

When the food finally came, lumpy and lukewarm, Melissa picked at it. She decided ruefully that it would be easy to hold her weight down if she ate at this place all the time. Later she wandered through a couple of stores featuring women's clothes, admonished herself for not buying something, not even a hat, and was out on the walk again.

She returned to her car and sat for a few minutes wondering why she couldn't have at least bought a hat. She'd heard that's what women do when they’re depressed. But she never wore a hat, why buy one? She drove back to the Lovin' Arms, parked her car and dragged herself up the stairs to her apartment.

Light from the street lamps in front of the buildings seeped through the picture window in her living room, casting dismal shadows. She had partially drawn the drapes when she saw Jud and a woman she had never seen before standing by his convertible. It was parked in the street in front of his building. Damn him. He knew he wasn't supposed to park there. Just like Carleton Chase, rules meant nothing to him. She pulled hard on the draw cord. The shades snapped together. Melissa never had felt more alone.

CHAPTER NINE

Jud woke and staggered to the bathroom. He still was in his clothes, except for his shoes and jacket. His head felt like a gas-filled sewer about to explode. What had happened to him? It had something to do with Melissa. She was really pissed at him because his father was head of the corporation that owned Lovin' Arms?

To hell with it. What did it matter? He was dying and here he was trying to figure out the reasons why Melissa ... his stomach felt like it was going to turn inside out. He put a cold washcloth to his head, rubbed the back of his neck, and sagged onto the toilet seat. His head hurt just as bad when he sat. He stood cautiously to in front of the bathroom mirror, and looked.

Bloodshot, tortured eyes stared back at him. He needed a shave. The thought of lifting his arms to wash his face made him sick to his stomach. Still, he did it, he had to. He wasn't going to let Melissa see him like this.

All he had done was go to the country club to take his anger out on a bucket of golf balls. And then that long-legged woman had talked to him, they had a few drinks. What did they talk about? Oh, yeah, she was a golf pro just like he'd imagined he wanted to be at one time when he was younger, and then?

He remembered halfheartedly trying to seduce her, but nothing happened, did it? She drove him home, that was it, but he couldn't remember if she came up to his apartment. She parked the car, his car, in front. He remembered thinking he should tell her she couldn't park there, but then, to defy Melissa, he hadn't said anything. He made his way to the front window, one agonizing step at a time, and looked out. His convertible was gone. For a second he considered reporting it as stolen.

"She just drove you home, jerk," he said to himself. "She probably drove the car back to the country club and left it there. The keys, surely she wouldn't leave the keys in it."

He sat down on the sofa facing the television set, sighed, leaned back and almost gave in to his desire to return to the blessed oblivion of sleep.

But no, he couldn't do that. He'd had hangovers before, although it had been a long time. He knew the cure. Sweat it out. He'd run until sweat washed away the misery. Maybe running would kill him, get him out of his misery.

It wasn't really running, more like a continuous stumble. He had struggled into sweat pants and sweat shirt, his running shoes and was shuffling along, each step creating agony in his head, when Melissa rounded the corner of Building Nine. He couldn't hide. He pulled his shoulders back, nearly upsetting his precarious balance, tried for more spring in his steps, and trotted toward her. He tried unsuccessfully to make eye contact as she came ever nearer. He could see nothing that indicated she acknowledged his existence. He paused as she approached, thinking maybe now was the time to try to reason with her. She breezed past, her head high, her hair bouncing with each gliding step, her eyes on something far ahead.

He stopped without turning and listened as the sound of her running faded. He gasped for air. She was gliding away from him, probably not looking back. He ran, clumsily at first, but then the rhythm finally came and he was flying. He nearly fell as he slipped on gravel rounding Building Nine. He raced past the back of the buildings. Maybe his head would split or his lungs would pop like overfilled balloons, but he was going to run until he sweat out the evil in his body and the emptiness in his heart.

The trick was to keep at it, overcome it, just run, damn it, until the sweat did its work. Later, exhausted but feeling almost alive, he shed his sweat clothes like an old skin, toweled himself off, and made a fresh pot of coffee. A shower revived him even more. His stomach still was complaining, but the threat of an upheaval and the resulting mess had vanished.

After a second cup of coffee and a little toast he dressed in his work clothes and went looking for something to do, something which would keep his mind busy. There was a toilet problem in Apartment 101, Building Three, that he had repaired, but now wanted to check, and hopefully there would be other problems that would occupy him until the day finally was over. And he had to get his convertible. Maybe he should do that first. He'd get Johnny to drive him to the country club in the Lovin' Arms pickup.

***

Melissa stood at the office window, waiting for the coffee maker to do its job, waiting for the smell of the fresh brew to fill the office, waiting for ... what? For Jud? For him to call, ask for instruction on what he should do that day even though he was going to do as he damned well pleased.

Another day at Lovin' Arms, another day of renting apartments, of feeling the place come alive, and she wasn't going to enjoy it, even though she had worked so hard for this very thing, because the man she thought really cared about her was just working at the place on a lark. Once again she had become involved with an owner's son. How could one woman be so unlucky? Sure, it was a common dream to marry the boss' son, but these two, Carleton and Jud, weren't the marrying kind. They just wanted her for a play thing.

"Not on your life, mister," she announced to the empty room. As the words fell against the window in front of her Johnny drove the Lovin' Arms pickup off the property. Jud sat beside him. Where were they going? She had noticed that Jud's car wasn't parked at the complex. Had the woman she saw the night before taken it? Was Jud leaving? Well, let him go. Maybe she'd go herself. She'd done her job here. She could use her success at Lovin' Arms to advance in the apartment complex business. But she wouldn't work for the corporation that owned Lovin' Arms. No way. There were others. She could work where she wanted, and it wasn't here. Maybe she could find a job where Carleton Chase wouldn't find her. She wasn't worried about Jud. He probably wouldn't even look.

She poured a cup of coffee, stared at the ledgers and finally began preparing the hated monthly report she had to send to the Chicago office. Maybe she should give her two-weeks notice. Let them find someone else to run the gosh damn place.

She was deep into the report. The bottom line for the month was so good she forgot Jud and basked in the feeling of victory. The phone rang. She gave the report a final glance, picked up the phone and said, "Lovin' Arms, how may I help you."

Johnny said "Hi."

"Oh, it's you. Good morning."

"Yeah, good morning. Any complaints from the peasants?"

"No, not yet," Melissa said. "I guess you have plenty to do keeping up the grounds. It's supposed to get hot this afternoon, take a break now and then. Did, er, is, oh never mind. I've got to get back to the monthly report. Talk to you later."

She had been trying to ask Johnny about Jud, was he back, did Johnny drive him to the airport, or what? But she couldn't bring herself to ask.

The morning dragged on. She'd had a couple of calls from prospective customers and spent half-an-hour arguing with a Central Illinois Light Company employee about a bill she thought was too high.

She greeted Henny with extra enthusiasm when the old woman came into the office fanning herself with a large straw hat.

"Let me get you a cup of coffee, or would you like something cooler?" Melissa asked.

"Whew, give me a minute," Henny said. "It's getting hot. I think I walked too fast. I'll have tea, thanks. I brought a tea bag. Maybe a glass of water first. You look worried. Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing in particular. I've just finished the monthly report, the one I have to send to Chicago. It's always a pain."

"Judson took one look at it and refused to do it. I was here in the office when he threw up his hands and said all the people in the main office were idiots. I remember so well because he hadn't been here very long. He picked me up, whirled me around, and said 'let's go dancing.' I was willing, but he chickened out."

"Well, I can't just throw up my hands, like he can. I'm not the son of the head of the corporation."

"The son of ... Is that's what he is? The son of the head of the corporation? Are you sure? Well, I’ll be. I wondered. Such an accomplished man to be doing maintenance work. And that convertible he drives. He didn't buy that on the salary he makes here."

"I know," Melissa sighed. "I should have known all along, but I had to meet his parents before I realized."

"They were here?"

"Henny, you know what we should do? We should plan another party. You did enjoy doing it before, didn't you?"

It was late in the afternoon when Henny left, still bubbling over with party plans. Her parting words were, "Tell Judson to stop working so hard and come visit me again."

In her apartment, Melissa picked at a TV dinner as she watched the six o'clock news. Most of it was the usual depressing stuff of wars, violence, corruption. However one news item from Chicago grabbed her attention.

"Carleton Chase, son of the head of Chase Insurance Company, faces several charges of sexual harassment filed by female employees of his father's firm. Officials will not confirm the rumor that the son has avoided arrest by leaving the city."

Melissa sagged into a chair. Surely Carleton wouldn't try to hide out in Naperton. Maybe she should report to police that she had seen him a couple of times. But that was days ago. He could be in China by now.

She turned off the television and dusted, mopped the kitchen floor, cleaned off the counter. She thought of going swimming as she stood outside in shade behind her apartment building. All the time the thought of Carleton and his threats hung like a suspended weight over her head.

The sound of laughter carried from the pool. She hoped all the children were attended by parents. Just something else to worry about. Suddenly a welcome worry. It took her mind off Carleton. All the parents had been warned repeatedly that they were responsible for their children when they were at the pool. Maybe she should go to the pool and check. No, she was going somewhere else, anywhere else. She drove into town, stopped at a service station, filled her car with gas, and asked the attendant for directions to Naperton Public Library. There, she surveyed job ads in the Chicago Tribune. She was surprised and happy to see there were several ads from various cities in the Midwest for apartment complex managers.

She watched a girl and boy, obviously together, pretending to study. She imagined how happy they must be, with their life ahead of them. Would it be as good as they thought? Were their plans as ambitious as hers had been when she was their age? Melissa copied the box numbers of the job ads in which she was interested and left the library. She was reluctant to get into her car, return to the apartment complex. She stood with the car door open and admired the sky as the sun slowly drifted behind a hawthorn tree beyond the library parking lot. She hoped she would be able to sleep when she got back to her apartment.

Activity at the swimming pool grabbed her attention as she drove into the apartment complex. She parked in front of the office and walked around to the pool where she stood in the shadows outside the umbrella of light.

Parents were scattered around, sitting on lounge chairs, talking in groups and intermittently shouting at their children. "Get out of the deep water, Sue," demanded one mother while another toweled off a small, wiggling boy.

She saw Johnny Gordini's daughter, Minnie. She and another little girl were laughing and splashing each other in the shallow end of the pool. Melissa scanned the adult faces, looking for Johnny or Caroline, the child's parents. She spotted John John hanging onto the edge of the pool at the deep end.

Surely Johnny and his wife wouldn't allow their children to be at the pool by themselves. A man who had squatted a few yards in front of her, obscured by children dashing back and forth, rose out of the chaos. It was Jud.

"Come on John John, out of the pool. It's time to go. You too, Minnie, come on you two. You'll get water logged if you stay in any longer."

Jud's deep voice rose above the chatter and splashing.

John John hopped up onto the wet surface, slipped and fell, bounced back up and was at Jud's side before Minnie had moved.

"Want me to go get her, Uncle Jud?" John John asked as he rubbed his head with a towel Jud handed to him.

"No thanks, buddy. I've got you out of the water. You stay right here. She'll get out in a minute."

Minnie pleaded for "just five more minutes," but finally gave in and climbed the ladder at the shallow end. She raced through the bodies along the side of the pool and threw herself into a towel held by Jud. He wrapped the towel around her and scooped her into his arms.

"Time for you two to go home and get to bed. I think that's a good idea for me, too," Jud said.

The chaos around the pool continued, but Melissa no longer heard it as she watched Jud, John John and Minnie walk away.

***

After delivering the two children to their parents, who expressed gratitude for the time alone, Jud went home. What a home, he thought. Just a minimum of furniture, but that's not what's important. It's being alone. That's what I don't like. It wasn't always that way. He stripped off his clothes, took a quick shower, and lay on the bed on his back. He recalled how, in the past, he had been so relieved at times, to be alone. He was glad to be away from the drinking, the constant search for excitement, the complications of sex. In those days he knew he could always return to the fast life whenever he grew tired of the solitude. Now? Well, yes, he could go back to the old gang. They were probably still doing the same old things. Did he want that? No, it no longer appealed to him. What he wanted was Melissa here in his arms.

He imagined himself going to the office, begging her to forgive him. Forgive him? For what? It must all boil down to his not telling her his dad was head of the corporation that owned this damned little apartment complex. So what? He couldn't understand why she was so pissed about it. Beg her to forgive him. Never! He pounded his fist into a pillow, thrust it under his head and eventually slept.

It was nine in the morning when he awoke. He was an hour late for work. He stretched, rolled out of bed, got the coffee maker going, and went into the bathroom. When he got around to looking at his face in the cabinet mirror he decided he didn't look so bad. All he needed to do was shave, comb his hair, and he would be ready to confront Melissa.

Would she be angry because he was late for work? So what if she was. After all, Jud told himself, I'm the son of the owner.

Heat already danced off the sidewalk when Jud emerged from the apartment building. Children were out, running here and there, shouting at each other, playing hide and seek, or just sitting and talking. No adults. They either were at work or were staying inside.

Jud entered the clubhouse, expecting to be greeted by cool air. It was hot, hotter even than outside, if that was possible.

"Gosh damn it, you were right here every time I called you when you first got the account. I want you out here. The air conditioning in my office, in the whole clubhouse, is dead. This place, with all its air conditioners, should rate some special consideration."

Jud stood just outside the office. Melissa said, "I'm not being unreasonable. You promised quick service for the residents here whenever one of the gosh damn conditioners broke down. You've given us quick service before."

A long pause. Then Melissa said, "All right. I'm sorry you've got two people off sick on such a hot day. I'm sorry I'm so angry, but please get someone out here as quickly as you can."

Jud entered the office after he heard the phone thud into its cradle.

"Where have you been?" Melissa said.

"I, well I..."

"Do you know anything about air conditioners? I'm sure you've noticed that the one in this building is not working."

"Have you checked the fuse box? Maybe you blew a fuse."

Jud smiled. There was no doubt Melissa had blown a fuse. Melissa's eyes gave just the hint of a smile. It never reached her mouth.

Jud pretended to look for the fuse box. He checked the office first, looking into a closet, examining all the walls, moving filing cabinets and looking behind them. No fuse box. He walked out into the central room of the clubhouse, checked all the walls and still hadn't found the box. Melissa followed close behind. No conversation until she said, "What does a fuse box look like?"

"I don't know, never met one," Jud lied.

He did know. And he knew it was in the kitchen. He wasn't sure why he was stalling. Was he hoping Melissa would apologize for being angry at him? Not likely, not in her present mood.

He went into the women's bathroom, looked around, bumped into Melissa as he turned to walk out. He went into the men's bathroom. Melissa didn't follow. As long as he was there he decided to relieve himself. He heard the door open. There was a pause and then the door was slammed.

Finally, when there was no place left to pretend he was looking, Jud went into the kitchen, gazed around the entire room before allowing his eyes to land on the fuse box in the corner away from the stove.

"Ah ha, here is the fuse box. See."

"So you found the fuse box. Now what?"

Jud removed one fuse at a time – there were eight – four on each side. He replaced them as he went along. The sixth fuse he removed was burned out. He'd replaced a fuse a couple of times before in the apartment buildings. Apparently fuses had blown often in the past. Each fuse box, including this one, had a package of fuses on top. He took one out, set the damaged fuse aside, and screwed in the new one. He hated doing this and always did it with his left hand. He was afraid the thing would burn when it made contact with the wiring system. The first time he'd put one in the thing sparked because he was too tentative. Now he screwed the fuse in as fast as he could and pulled his hand away. He stepped back and nearly knocked Melissa to the floor.

"I'm sorry," he said. "If I'd known you were so close I'd have turned around. Maybe I could have kissed you before you bit me."

"Not a chance, mister. I wanted to see what you were doing. I may have to do it someday. The fuse did look burned, but apparently that wasn't it. I don't hear the air conditioner running."

"Did you mess with it?"

"No, I didn't mess with it," Melissa said. "I'm not even sure where it is. Is it that thing outside below the window of the women's rest room?"

"Yes, the controls are inside. Want to go in and see if anyone is in there before I check?"

"You know there is no one in there. Are you continuing to try to make a fool of me?"

"What do you mean?"

Jud had a tremendous urge to take his handkerchief and wipe the sweat off her brow.

"I mean you being the son of the head cheese and pretending to work here. Pretending to take orders from me. Making a fool of me and then compounding the whole mess by making me fall ... by, oh, you know, taking advantage of me."

Jud was in the women's rest room and had opened the cover on the air conditioner control box. He pushed the starter switch just in case the loss of power had thrown it to "off." The system whirred into action.

Jud turned. Melissa stepped back.

"I didn't take advantage of you. I was working here to prove something to my dad, to myself. I ... oh, to hell with it, you won't believe anything I tell you anyway."

"Why should I?"

Jud smiled and smothered a laugh. Melissa had stamped her foot and failed to conceal the fact that it hurt.

"Better call that company you were chewing out, and tell them your air is fixed."

Jud overcame the temptation to slam the rest room door as he left.

***

Back at her office Melissa tried to organize a plan for the work day. There was plenty to do, as always. For one thing, she had to get another "No Life Guard on Duty" sign. Some devil had stolen the one posted at the swimming pool and there had to be one or she would be violating the law. She was looking through the telephone book yellow pages for a print shop when the phone rang.

"Lovin' Arms, how may I help you?"

"Hi, I'm Veronica Meade, at the Chicago office, is Mister Wheeling there?"

"You mean Jud?"

"Judson, yes. Is he there?"

"He's not here it the office. I can reach him. Is there a message?"

"Yes, tell him to give us a call. Ask for Veronica."

Melissa spent the next few minutes trying to picture this Veronica. She sounded young ... pretty, maybe even sexy. She had a low, purring voice. Melissa called the maintenance number on the cell phone and got Johnny who said he didn't know where Jud was, but that he would deliver the message as soon as he saw him.

The next day, when Melissa called Johnny again because of a broken bathroom cabinet window in one of the apartments, she learned that Jud had gone to Chicago.

"He seemed really angry after he called that woman at the Chicago office. Didn't say why. Said he had to go there. Didn't say when he'd be back."

***

Veronica Meade, his dad's secretary, put him on hold until his dad came on the phone.

"I just thought you'd like to know. You've done such a good job down there. We are going to sell the place, make a large profit. I'm proud of you, son. Knew you could do it."

"Thanks dad, but please don't sell Lovin' Arms."

"Why not? The board has voted. That place is small potatoes. We have complexes three times, four times as large as that one. We won't forget that young woman who helped you out. We'll offer her a job, maybe here in the main office. She has the experience."

"Isn't there anything I can do to stop this? I don't want you to sell Lovin' Arms, at least not yet. I'm coming up there. Tell mom I'll be there for dinner."

"I don't know what you could do. I don't think I could stop the sale. The board makes the final decision and there doesn't appear to be any reason to keep the place when we can clear such a profit. I'll tell your mother you're coming. She'll be pleased."

It wasn't until he was fifty miles away from the apartment complex that Jud realized he should have told Melissa where he was going and the reason why. He attempted to call her on the car phone. Busy signal. Oh well, let her stew. Maybe she would be glad he was gone, but he figured she'd be angry if the place was sold.

"Oh Jud, it's so good to see you," his mother said when he entered the house. He felt like a stranger, climbing up the stairs. His initials still were on one of the large porch columns where he had carved them. It had been months, maybe a year, since he'd been home.

"Well, my boy, good to see you," his father said.

"Tell him the good news, Henry," his mother said after she hugged him.

"No big deal, I've decided to retire. But there's still a place for you in the corporation, Judson."

"How is that young lady we met at Lovin' Arms, the one in the office?" his mother asked.

"Melissa. She's fine. She'll be angry when she learns the place is going to be sold. She has a temper. Always stamping her foot and saying 'gosh damn.'"

"She was sort of pretty. But that awful dress she wore. You aren't, well, you know, involved with her are you, Judson?"

"No mother, I'm not involved, exactly. She's angry with me for being the son of the head of the corporation. I don't want to talk about her. Isn't there anything that can be done to stop the sale? I'm not finished with the job there yet. I've, well Melissa too, we have plans to make the place come alive, fill it with residents, bring it all the way back."

"We?" Jud's mother asked.

"Well, maybe not we any longer. I still want to see the job finished. If I had the money I'd buy the place myself."

"Why?" Jud's father said.

"I like it there. I like fixing stuff, talking to the people that live there. There's an old lady, Henny is her name. She reminds me of grandma. I don't know. I just like it there."

"Why don't you buy it for him, Henry?"

"Buy if for him? This isn't a toy. It'll bring a price now. Buy if for him. You think that's the answer for every thing. Just buy it."

"Thanks, mom, but I know dad couldn't buy it for me. I just wish the corporation wouldn't sell it, at least not for awhile longer."

"I could buy it. Maybe it's a good idea. Better than just leaving you money. Are you really interested in operating that place? There never could be a big profit. It's too small. I guess you could expand."

"Thanks dad, but I wouldn't want to expand. It's just right the way it is. There would be plenty of income. I'm not out to be a billionaire. Just want to enjoy life. And I've found out working at that place is good. I like it."

***

Melissa hesitated before she put the job applications in the mailbox. Did she really want to change jobs? She was applying to three firms that had advertised for an apartment complex manager. In the meantime she and Henny had finalized plans for the party that night. She knew people would come. The residents mentioned it almost every time they talked to her.

"Maybe this time it won't rain," Melissa said as Henny sipped tea. "You know, I'd be happy to have that brand of tea on hand here. Earl Grey decaffeinated, isn't it? You wouldn't have to bring along a tea bag every time."

"I've got extra boxes in my apartment. I'll bring a box next time. It is silly for me to be carrying one tea bag around. It's not tea bags I'm worried about. It's you. Since Judson left you look like a sick cat. He is coming back, isn't he?"

"I guess, but I don't really know. I don't care. I just wish he'd let me know if I'm supposed to hire another maintenance man. Johnny can't do it all. That reminds me, I've got to give him a raise. I won't even ask Chicago if it's all right. I'll just do it."

"We're all set for the party tonight," Henny said. "It's so much easier when everyone wants to help. Six parents have volunteered for lifeguard duty. You won't have to worry about that. The dance committee has the CDs lined up, the food committee says they are set. What's to worry about?"

"I've nothing to worry about," Melissa said. "You've been doing all the worrying, most of the work. Thanks Henny."

"I enjoy it, you know that. See you tonight."

Melissa made a mental note to buy some tea. She and Henny had discussed it before, still Henny never remembered to bring anything more than one tea bag.

***

Jud didn't get away from Chicago until late in the afternoon. Rush hour traffic and road repair work delayed him for an hour or more. He didn't appreciate being directed by a repair crewman to drive over scattered debris. Still, all the other cars drove over the same hazards. How could he avoid it? By the time he was fifty miles out of Chicago he was starving. He pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant called, "Country Living."

"Just anything you can serve in a hurry," he told the waitress, a middle-aged woman with a pleasant smile. "Some kind of sandwich maybe."

"I'm sorry sir. We don't serve sandwiches. Just full meals. It takes time. Each meal is individually prepared."

"Really. Give me some iced tea then while I wait. I'll have the T-bone steak, medium, baked potato, house dressing. Okay?"

She strolled away on the carpeted floor.

The issue of his dad buying Lovin' Arms still was up in the air. Jud wasn't so sure he wanted to stay there, after all. What if Melissa left? Would he care about the place then? Yes, damn it, he would. She wasn't going to drive him from something he had learned to care about. Let her leave. She hadn't said anything about leaving anyway. If she was going to continue to treat him like dirt, well, she'd have to leave, that's all.

***

Melissa showered, put on body lotion, and applied makeup. She'd had her hair washed and set, her nails done again, and she had a new dress with shoes to match. Would she be overdressed? Of course not. After all she was the hostess. Still, she was a little nervous when she arrived at the clubhouse.

Many of the residents, already there to take care of their various committee duties, took a second glance when they saw her. "Wow, the princess has arrived," Henny said. She took Melissa's hands. Henny's eyes glowed like a mother's when she sees her daughter in high heels for the first time.

"You should have a corsage," Henny said. "And that color, the blue of a summer sky. It's just right. Are those shoes comfortable?"

"I'm not sure. So far they're okay. This is the first time I've worn them."

There wasn't much for Melissa to do except greet residents as they arrived. The committees Henny had set up took care of everything else. No need to introduce people to each other. Most had met at the last party. Those that didn't were introducing themselves.

Still, Melissa circulated, talked, listened, laughed. She danced until her feet hurt. Near the end she was refusing offers to dance, pointing at her feet as an excuse. She sat on a couch, the same couch Addison Clarke had sat on when she was drunk. It seemed so long ago. Had Addy gotten drunk because she was depressed over Jud's discarding her? Was Melissa doing the same thing now? She did have a couple of drinks, but the punch wasn't that strong. She didn't feel any effect from the drinks, just tired and lonely, lonely in a crowd.

When the party finally was over Henny directed the clean up. Later Melissa said, "I'll walk you home. Leave the lights on. I'm coming back. Got a little work to do in the office. I don't think I could sleep yet anyway."

"I watched you, young lady. Those shoes must be hurting your feet. I noticed you took them off when you stopped dancing. Admit it, they hurt."

"Well, yes, they did a little. Mostly that was an excuse. I was tired of dancing. Remember how I walked you home in the rain after the first party. I'm going to walk you home again. It won't do you any good to argue."

Melissa slipped on the shoes, stood up, and was pleased to find that her feet did not hurt. Still, she would be glad to get out of high heels. Her feet weren't used to them now.

"Look at the stars," Henny said as they stopped halfway to her apartment building.

Melissa gazed at the sky until she located the big dipper. "See, there it is." She pointed it out to Henny.

"I'm sure it is there," Henny said. "I used to be able to see it, but now I'm satisfied just to observe the biggest stars. Can't see like I used to."

"I had to have someone point it out to me once and even then I wasn't sure," Melissa said.

"Love under the stars. What a romantic idea."

"I didn't say anything about love."

"Maybe not, but your voice sounded like someone remembering a romantic night. Did it involve Judson?"

"Hey, it's time you were in bed. You can think your romantic thoughts if you choose. I've got more practical things to worry about."

At Henny's door Melissa thanked her for organizing the party, hugged her and wished her pleasant dreams. On the way back to the office she stopped and looked at the sky for several minutes.

In the clubhouse she turned off the lights, one by one, until only her office light remained. She flipped off her shoes and leaned against the door. Who would Jud hire when she was gone? Probably another gullible woman, someone prettier than she, someone more willing...

She shook her head as if to rid it of such thoughts, went behind her desk, and sat down. She didn't really have any work to do, still she was reluctant to return to her apartment. She spread her arms across the desk, put her head down, and slept until Carleton Chase pressed her face into the wood.

CHAPTER TEN

The food may have been good, when it finally was served. Jud didn't know or care. He wolfed it down, drank half a glass of water, left a tip – after all he couldn't blame the waitress because it took so long – and hurried to his car. When he backed out he discovered the right front tire was flat.

"Damn, I knew it was bad, driving over that junk where they were repairing the highway. I could kill that ass hole who insisted I go that way."

An elderly woman was getting into a car two parking spaces away. She held the door opened and stared at Jud. Lightning flashed to the south. What next?

"Sorry lady," Jud said ruefully. "I talk to myself all the time these days."

How long had it been since he checked the spare? Too long. He mumbled a sort of prayer as he opened the trunk and pushed against the tire. There was some air, enough to get somewhere to buy a new tire or at least get more air in the spare. Jud had been hurrying to get back to Lovin' Arms, tell Melissa that his father wanted to buy the place, tell her ... what? That he loved her, that he wanted the two of them to run the place and be happy ever after. Was that what he wanted? He had plenty of time to think about it during the time it took to get to a service station, buy a new tire, get it installed, and get on the road again.

It was late when he pulled into the Lovin' Arms complex. He planned to go to his apartment, get some sleep, and confront Melissa in the morning. She couldn't treat him like a dog. They had to come to an understanding, they had to.

He was nearly past the clubhouse when he noticed a light was on in the office. Melissa must have forgotten to turn it off. That wasn't like her. He hesitated. Why not just leave it on? No, he'd do her job for her, turn the damned thing off, maybe save a few cents.

Lightning shattered the sky and thunder rattled the atmosphere. Hair stiffened on the back of his neck when he found the clubhouse door unlocked. Could someone be robbing the place? He crept to the office door, turned the knob cautiously and eased the door open.

Melissa's head lay at an awkward angle on the desk. A red smear on her arm looked like blood. A snub-nosed revolver lay beside her. A man's leg extended on the floor from behind the desk. Jud was at the desk in two strides and, as he reached to raise her head it popped up and Melissa screamed. She reached for the gun. Jud grabbed it and jumped back.

"What's the matter ... with you, your arm? What's this gun doing here? Who's that on the floor?"

"He's dead. I think Carleton is dead. I killed him. He attacked me."

"Are you hurt? What's that on your arm?"

Melissa smeared the blood as she touched it.

"No, I'm not hurt. Must be his blood."

Jud knelt beside the crumpled body. The face was flat against the floor. Jud hesitated to touch anything. He pressed a finger against Carleton’s neck, looking for a pulse. Carleton moaned and rolled over. Jud jerked his hand away, lunged backward and hit his head on the desk.

Carleton struggled to a sitting position, looked at Jud with horror and confusion in his eyes. Blood had dried on his face after seeping from a gash and lump on his head.

"Oh, thank God. I thought I killed him," Melissa cried. "He tried to rape me, had me pinned on the desk on my back. He's wanted by police. Call the police Jud. Please call the police."

Jud hoisted Carleton's limp body onto a chair and said, "You move and you will be dead."

He called police and explained what he could of the situation. The woman dispatcher said a patrol car was in the area and would be right there.

It arrived in five minutes. Jud timed it as he held Melissa and felt her body gradually relax. Two uniformed officers rushed into the office. They both were young and country big, one with blond, short hair. The other never removed his hat.

"This man is wanted for sexual harassment, I heard it on the radio tonight," Melissa shouted.

"Where is he wanted?" the blond officer asked.

"In Chicago."

"You see anything about this in the bulletins, Marty?" the blond cop said to the other.

"Maybe. Not sure. Let's take him to the hospital, get him fixed up, then we'll check. Who rapped him on the head?"

"I did," Melissa said, her voice strong now and filled with anger. "The bastard tried to rape me ... again."

"We'll have to fill out a report. You want to charge him?" the blond policeman said.

"That can wait until tomorrow, she's had enough tonight," Jud said with the same authority Melissa had heard in his father's voice.

***

Melissa shuddered. It was over. Tears ran down her face. Her muscles refused to relax. She could see again the blood shot eyes, the sneer on his lips as Carleton stood in front of her desk and said, "Nothing ever happened like this until you started it. Those other girls, they made threats, but they never did anything until you started it. Think I didn't know what you were doing, leaving and then egging them on."

Carleton kept himself between Melissa and the door as he swept papers, ledgers, and the telephone off her desk with one arm as he kept a small gun pointed at her head.

"My God, are you going to kill me?

"Guess I'll have to. But first take off your clothes and spread your legs out on the desk,” he said, his voice high-pitched, like a taunt wire.

Melissa slowly slid onto the desk. She reached behind and opened the desk door containing the obnoxious paperweight she had placed there so long ago. Carleton pushed her down, held her shoulders to the desk with one had, put the gun down. His free hand slithered its way between her legs like a snake seeking its home. She squeezed her legs together. His face was inches from hers. He smelled of whiskey.

"Go ahead and resist, I like it that way," he panted.

He pressed his weight against her, pinning her to the desk, and pulled at her panties. He pulled them to her knees, shifted his weight and unzipped his pants.

Melissa worked her right arm free and strained to reach into the desk drawer for the paperweight.

"Your going to enjoy this as much as I am, don't pretend you won't, you bitch."

Melissa's hand clutched the paperweight, raised it and crashed it down on his head. Blood spattered onto her arm as she thrust the horrid weight of him away. His body thudded as it hit the floor.

Melissa slid off the desk and started for the door. Had she killed him? She had to look. He lay there folded like a crushed box. She sat down, put her head on the desk and quivered with indecision. Jud came in and scared her half crazy. She thought Carleton had recovered and was on his feet again.

When the police were gone Jud insisted Melissa go to her apartment and sleep.

"You'll feel better tomorrow. You're still tight as a drum. You must try to forget this for now."

"First you tell me to sleep, then you tell me why I won't be able to sleep. I may never sleep again."

Jud led her to her apartment.

"Just calm down, relax. If you don't go into the bathroom, get on some pajamas or something else to sleep in I'll undress you myself."

Melissa resisted the urge to say Jud was as bad as Carleton, threatening to undress her. However, even in her stressed state she knew that wasn't true.

She put on a pair of pajamas, returned to the bedroom, crawled under the covers and complained, "You know I won't be able to sleep. Don't you dare leave me."

"Don't worry," Jud whispered as he tucked her in. "I'll be here when you wake up in the morning. Now try to clear your mind and sleep."

"Sure, just like that."

The stress slowly drained from her body. Her muscles relaxed. Jud was there. Nothing could harm her as long as Jud was there. But how long would he be...?

He was lying beside her on his back on top of the covers when she awoke. It was morning.

She watched him breathe, noted the stubble on his face, and remembered the horror of the night before. What was he doing in her bed? Oh. She had asked him to stay. His eyes opened, he turned toward her, smiled and said, "Won't be able to sleep, you said. For a gal who couldn’t sleep you snored a lot."

"Did I, really?"

"Well, maybe a little, but mostly you slept like a baby."

"Thanks for staying with me. You can go now. I'm going to get up, go to work, try to act as if this thing never happened."

Melissa had put in a full day. Jud had taken her to the police station where she answered all their questions and signed the typed report. Jud had told her Carleton had been transported back to Chicago to face charges there. She was exhausted. She'd kept busy trying to get both Carelton and Jud from her mind.

It was time to close the office. It was threatening to rain. She wasn't looking forward to being in her apartment alone, but she didn't want to be alone in the office either.

Noise from the lobby startled her. It was Jud.

"What are you doing here?" Melissa said. "Did I hear thunder?"

"I work here, remember. And yes, you heard thunder."

"Work, ha ha. Play would be more like it."

"Now just a minute, Miss Gosh Damn, you're not going to start that again. I'm sick of the way you're treating me. So what if my dad is head of the firm that owns this place. Incidentally, you can stop worrying about that. Wheeling Corp has decided to sell Lovin' Arms."

Melissa stood and almost sank to the chair again. She had applied for other jobs, but she realized she didn't really want to leave. Now she'd probably have to. And never see Jud again.

"How soon?" Melissa asked.

"I don't know. Do you care?"

"Of course I care. Look at all the effort I, we put into this place. Just as it's starting to become a success they're going to sell it. There still is much to be done. We had a great party last night."

She shuddered, thinking of Carleton, and said, "The place is really beginning to come together. I like it here. I wish they wouldn't sell it."

"My dad will buy it if I want him to," Jud said.

"Oh, wow, just like that?"

"He's one of those filthy rich guys you seem to hate."

"You just don't understand, do you? I'm not angry at you because you're from a rich family. I'm angry at you because you pretended to be just a poor working guy who..."

"I didn't pretend anything. You just assumed. I was working here to get a new start, to prove something to my father and to myself. Much to my surprise, I liked it. I got just as interested in making this place a success as you did. That's why I went to Chicago. I thought I could convince them not to sell, but father says the board has the final say."

"Well then, it's over. I've got applications out. I shouldn't have any trouble finding a new job."

"I guess you wouldn't want to stay here," Jud said. He was at the window. "It's raining now."

"Why would I want to stay? I suppose I could work for whoever buys the place. It wouldn't be the same. And what about you? Surely you wouldn't keep up the pretense of being a poor maintenance man."

"There you go again. I never pretended anything. I don't know what I'm going to do if you leave. Maybe go to Africa and join the Foreign Legion."

"Ha ha," Melissa said. "I'm going to turn off the lights, go home, and go to bed. Or do you want to stay here by yourself?"

"What if father bought the place for me?" A clap of thunder shook the building.

"What if? What do you mean, what if?"

"Well, I mean, would you stay if he bought the place?"

"So you could come down from Chicago and use me as a toy whenever you wanted. No, absolutely no. Oh damn, gosh damn," she shouted as she stamped her foot. Pain shot up to her knee. She held back tears.

"What I was thinking was, he could buy the place, we'd run it, get some office and maintenance help so we could go on a cruise once in a while, stuff like that."

Thunder shook the building again. Melissa just managed to control her desire to seek safety in Jud's arms. Rain battered against the office window.

"I'm not going out in this rain. I'm going to make coffee."

Melissa poured water into the coffee maker. Her hand shook as she spooned coffee into the basket.

"We could get married right away or wait and have one of those fancy weddings women like. My mother would want one, I'm sure."

The spoon rattled to the floor.

"What?"

"I'm proposing, but don't think I'm getting down on my knee. Gosh damn if I will."

"Yes," Melissa said.

Silence. Melissa didn't try to stop the tears, the sweet tears, as they oozed from her eyes.

"I think it's silly, but as long as there is no one else here I'll do it."

Jud knelt down on one knee. Melissa laughed and cried as she knelt down in front of him.

"I meant yes, I'll marry you, not that you had to kneel, although now that I think about it ..."

Jud's arms surrounded her. They held each other until Jud said, "Could we get up, my knee hurts. Listen, no more thunder, just a gentle rain. We could go swimming and stuff, what do you think?"

Melissa stood, shuddered.

"The last time we did that Carleton watched. He told me."

"That miserable bastard. If you told me I would have killed him."

"I know. That's the reason I didn't tell you."

"It would be a crime if we allowed the memory of that creep to keep us from repeating the most wonderful experience of my life."

Melissa broke a long silence by saying, "Yes, you're right. It would be a shame."

She wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her and carried her out into the rain.

Finis

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

Table Of Contents

eBook Info