Читать книгу Winning Over Skylar - Julianna Morris, Julianna Morris - Страница 10

CHAPTER ONE

“I’LL HELP, MRS. GIBSON,” said Melanie Hollister as Skylar carried a bucket of soapy water to the eating area outside the hamburger stand.

“Me, too, Mom,” Karin added.

Skylar hid a smile. “Thanks, but study comes first.” She didn’t have any illusions—the girls were doing their geometry homework. According to Karin they had a bunch of “dumb-ass postulates” to learn and an equally “lame-o” set of problems to solve. They’d do anything to get out of the assignment, even scrub dried ketchup from tables and benches.

Well...Skylar looked at Melanie and changed her mind. The teenager was solemn, sincere and eager to please—she probably did want to help. She was a junior and high schoolers could be cruel to younger students, yet the two girls had formed a close bond since Melanie’s arrival in Cooperton, despite their age difference. Melanie had turned sixteen in August, and Karin would soon be fourteen, but they were in several classes together because Karin was in an accelerated program, a year ahead of her classmates, while her new friend had fallen behind from having moved around so often.

If Melanie hadn’t been a Hollister, Skylar would have been pleased they were friends. Thinking of which, a black Mercedes glided to a stop in front of the hamburger stand. It gleamed, without a speck of dirt daring to mar its perfection—a sharp contrast to her old pickup truck. She couldn’t remember the last time it had been washed...probably before her husband’s accident.

Skylar swallowed.

Actually, she knew exactly the last time it had been washed and waxed...the day Jimmie had died. He’d waxed both of their trucks that morning. The deep stab of loss was duller now, but it still hurt that he was gone. They were supposed to grow old together, and for months the sorrow and unfairness of it had kept her awake at night. The grief counselor had insisted it was anger at Jimmie for dying. Okay, maybe she was a little angry for a while, but it hadn’t lasted. Mostly she was angry with the driver of that 18-wheeler for running a stop sign, not her husband for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Uh-oh.”

The gloomy voice broke into Skylar’s dark thoughts. The girls were looking apprehensively at the Mercedes.

Aaron Andrew Hollister, or “Randy Andy” as he was sometimes called in high school, climbed out with a frown. “Melanie, I thought you were studying at the library this afternoon.”

“We went already.” She pointed to the pile of books next to her. “And Karin has some of mine in her bag ’cause there were more than I could carry. Don’t worry. Mrs. Gibson is taking me home. It won’t be long because we don’t want to miss the baseball game.”

“You already went to the library? School only let out an hour ago.” His tone strongly suggested that she hadn’t told the truth in the first place. “Your mother wants you to do better in your classes. She hopes your stay in California will make a difference, and you can catch up.”

“Yeah. She always says stuff like that when she dumps me somewhere.” The teen bit her lip, and Skylar could see the resentment in her eyes. The kid had been left with her half brother while her mother was off traveling the world with her second husband, or whatever it was the indolent rich did with their time.

“You weren’t dumped here.” Aaron’s protest rang hollow. By all accounts, Melanie had lived with a dozen or more different relatives and friends of her mother, rarely finishing the year in the same school. That’s how the Hollisters approached childrearing—as if it was someone else’s responsibility. But leaving her with Aaron? Oh, puleeze. That was scraping the bottom of the barrel.

“I don’t care what you call it,” Melanie muttered. It hadn’t taken long for her to transform into a sullen teenager with a chip on her shoulder. “You didn’t want to come here, either.”

His expression froze. “Our situations aren’t the same.”

Skylar perked up her ears. Aaron hadn’t wanted to come back to Cooperton? That wouldn’t surprise her; he used to be contemptuous of small towns and the people in them. Unfortunately for Aaron, his job at Cooper Industries was an inherited responsibility. He was the only Cooper grandchild—his mother, Celina Cooper Morgan, hadn’t had more children after her divorce from S. S. Hollister, so Aaron was always expected to take over one day.

That was something Skylar didn’t want for Karin. Granted, the Gibson Nibble Nook wasn’t a huge company like Cooper Industries, but her daughter would have choices that didn’t require slicing onions and flipping hamburgers. It wasn’t a legacy; they could sell the place when the time came.

Melanie closed her geometry book with a snap. “I know you hate being here, Aaron. I heard you tell—”

“Melanie, we don’t air our private business in front of strangers,” he interrupted.

Strangers?

Skylar wanted to smack him. They were far from strangers. As much as she’d like to forget sleeping with Aaron over fourteen years ago, she couldn’t. And if that wasn’t enough, he’d bragged to his buddies about nailing her. After that, every guy in school thought she was an easy target. She’d already had a bad reputation, but it hit rock bottom when Aaron opened his big mouth.

Funny, she’d given Aaron little conscious thought in years, but now that Melanie was friends with Karin, she was getting daily reminders.

“They’re just studying,” Skylar said, trying to stay calm.

Fair was fair. Melanie was doing her geometry homework, not joyriding. Besides, the hamburger stand was only open for breakfast and lunch. The Nibble Nook intentionally closed at the same time the high school let out for the day; otherwise they could have a crowd of teenagers until late every afternoon. Still, she couldn’t deny that a few farmworkers and other customers often arrived near closing and lingered over their meals.

She and Jimmie had discussed keeping the Nook open longer, but this way they’d had a better family life. It was the same decision his parents had made when they were running both the Nibble Nook and the Nibble Nook Too in Trident, where Skylar had gone to get a job when she’d learned she was pregnant. She sure couldn’t have hung around Cooperton, where people knew her; it was hard enough returning as a married woman.

Aaron shot Skylar a cool look.

He’d been attractive in high school with his dark brown hair and eyes. Now he was downright gorgeous. Luckily she was immune—she knew his handsome exterior concealed a jackass of major proportions. And in the four months since he’d taken over as the managing CEO of Cooper Industries, his employees were discovering what she’d learned as a stupid, reckless seventeen-year-old.

The employees disliked Aaron intensely—he treated them as potential criminals, the company cafeteria prices had tripled and the shortened lunch break wasn’t long enough to let them drive farther than the Nibble Nook for an inexpensive meal.

“Whether they’re studying or not isn’t the issue. And I’ll handle my own problems, if you don’t mind,” he growled.

Then stop handling them badly, she wanted to add, except antagonizing him wouldn’t be good for Melanie or Karin. She’d tried to remember that whenever he’d “visited” the Nibble Nook over the past several weeks.

A vision of Aaron’s face the first day he’d shown up at the Nibble Nook rose in Skylar’s mind, and she almost laughed; the Trident Hell Raisers had been there. They were a harmless group of retirees who’d formed a motorcycle club. Jimmie’s uncle Fred belonged, and they came over once a week to talk, drink coffee and try to look like tough, seasoned road warriors in a defiant “FU” to lost youth.

So, in drove Aaron Hollister in his shiny black Mercedes and expensive suit, horrified to see his sister surrounded by a motorcycle gang. He hadn’t asked questions, just rushed Melanie away so abruptly she’d forgotten her book bag. Skylar supposed she might have been concerned if their places were reversed, but really, the Trident Hell Raisers were retired accountants, doctors and firemen. Uncle Fred had irreverently nicknamed them the Bunion and Hemorrhoids Brigade.

Skylar could have reassured Aaron, but he was so damned obstinate and suspicious, he probably wouldn’t have believed her, anyhow. And he’d just argue that other bikers ate at the Nibble Nook, too. It was true enough, but they’d never caused trouble.

“We did go to the library,” Karin announced. “Mellie checked out a ton of books on President Lincoln for her history paper.”

“I didn’t ask you, young lady.”

Skylar’s temper flared at the stuffy censure in Aaron’s voice. He had a lot of nerve.

“Thank you, Karin,” she said, managing to keep her voice level. “Why don’t you and Melanie go get milk and apples for another snack? I moved the organic fruit to the left side of the fridge in the back storeroom.”

The teens exchanged glances.

“Uh, okay, Mom,” Karin agreed, apparently deciding not to attempt her usual argument in favor of chips and soda.

Once her daughter and Melanie disappeared into the Nibble Nook, Skylar rounded on Aaron, throwing caution to the wind. “If you’re upset that Melanie is coming here to study, then say so,” she hissed. “Don’t take it out on my kid. You implied that your sister lied about going to the library—Karin was just sticking up for her friend.”

Aaron directed his intent gaze at her. “She was impertinent.”

“Impertinent?” Skylar rolled her eyes. “La-di-dah, aren’t we being high-and-mighty? Karin was only impertinent if you’re a seventeenth-century land baron lording it over a peasant. Give me a break. This is the twenty-first century, and I own this property. If Karin had been rude, I’d be the first to chew her out.”

He clenched his jaw. “I didn’t accuse Melanie of lying, but she does have a history.”

“Who told you that—other relatives who wanted an excuse to ship her back to her mother? You might check the facts before making assumptions.” Skylar marched to the stack of books and opened one to the library’s date stamp. “See? The return date is two weeks from today. That’s the standard loan period for the Cooperton Public Library.”

“You knew that because you already looked.”

She slammed the book onto the table. “No, I didn’t. Karin isn’t an angel, but she’s a good kid and usually tells the truth. I’m betting Melanie is the same. I’m also betting that I’ve spent more time with your sister than you have since she got to Cooperton.”

“That’s outrageous. She lives with me.”

“Oh?” Skylar planted her hands on her hips. “You mean you eat dinner together every night? You check her homework? You go out to movies or take her for pizza? Do you even know what pizza she likes?”

A dull red flush crept up Aaron’s neck. “I’m hoping to spend more time with Melanie, but things have been hectic at the office. It’s critical to have a smooth transition from my grandfather’s leadership at Cooper Industries to my own. I was returning from a meeting when I saw she was here. But if I hadn’t seen her, I would have called to be sure she got home okay.”

“Or your executive assistant would have called. Her name is Peggy, right? I’ve heard Melanie say her name when they’re on the phone. That’s child care by proxy.”

She dunked her scrub brush into the bucket of sudsy water and slapped it on one of the tables. Aaron scowled and stepped back to avoid getting splashed. Good. His size didn’t intimidate her, but she didn’t enjoy being that close to an obnoxious jerk. Lord, he’d always had a gift for making her angry. Even on their few teenage dates they’d fought more than they kissed.

“I’m not delegating Melanie’s care,” he growled. “Peggy has experience from raising her own children and recommended a quick status check with Melanie after school, which she takes care of when I have other commitments. There’s nothing wrong with accepting her help.”

Skylar practically snorted. She finished scrubbing the brightly painted aluminum picnic table and hosed it down before starting on the next. Her workday didn’t stop for spoiled rich guys wearing pricey suits and fine Italian shoes. At least she assumed they were Italian; Aaron probably thought he was too good for regular American-made products.

She swept the remains of a French fry order into the trash. Cooper Industry employees weren’t tidy customers; they ate on the run because their pay was docked double if they weren’t back on time. That was another one of Aaron’s unpopular new policies. Honestly, they could barely get out of the company’s large parking lots in half an hour. Since he’d taken over management, the Nibble Nook’s profits, while consistently respectable, had skyrocketed. They were located just outside the main gate, provided easy access to and from the road and could handle a feeding frenzy during the staggered factory meal breaks.

“Peggy must fill in a lot,” she said after a moment. “I understand one of your commitments included a date with a former winner of the Miss California beauty pageant. In Sacramento. Did you get home at all that night?”

“Not that it’s your business, but that was before Melanie arrived. And I didn’t realize you were monitoring my social life.”

Skylar rubbed unnecessarily hard on a smear of dried mustard. If only it was Aaron’s nose.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Hollister. Gossip in Cooperton is like ivy and blackberry briars, it’s everywhere. You can’t get away from it.”

He crossed his arms. “Maybe you should try harder.”

“Maybe you should remember how impressionable teenagers are.”

“Oh, right, you’re a fine one to talk, Skylar.”

She stared, wondering how he had the gall to say any such thing. “As I recall, you’re the one who did the talking.”

He had the grace to look uncomfortable, or perhaps it was her imagination. She had to wonder...how much did he remember about the past? Was she just one of many girls who’d foolishly succumbed to his questionable charm and good looks? If so, she probably was a stranger. Who knew how many of them he’d discarded like yesterday’s newspaper.

It was reassuring in a way; she didn’t actually want him remembering too much.

* * *

MELANIE HID WITH Karin under the front counter of the hamburger stand, her eyes widening as the argument continued between Mrs. Gibson and Aaron. Eavesdropping wasn’t nice, but she couldn’t remember anyone defending her the way Karin’s mom was doing. It was worth getting in trouble to hear it.

“Hey, I told you Mom was an honest-to-gosh redhead,” Karin whispered. “Listen to her go.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You should have heard when she went off on the principal. The school didn’t want me taking classes with sophomores and juniors ’cause I’m not fourteen yet, and boy, did she get hot. I was waiting in the secretary’s office and wasn’t supposed to hear, but they were talking real loud.”

A stab of envy hit Melanie. She didn’t think her own mother would do something like that. Aaron had acted as if she was buying drugs instead of studying, and now Mrs. Gibson was sticking up for her. Aaron was just like the other family she’d stayed with, though what he’d said about hoping to spend more time together was nice—not that she wanted to hang around a brother she hardly knew.

“It must have been awesome.”

Karin shrugged. “I guess. And I’m glad they gave me the classes I wanted. My...my dad used to calm Mom down when she got upset. He’d tease her, saying she had a hair-trigger temper and knew how to use it. That made her laugh, though I’m not sure why it was funny.”

Her face was really sad, and Melanie didn’t envy her any longer. Karin’s dad was dead; he’d died in a car crash a year ago in August. Her father wasn’t around much, but he was alive.

“I know what you mean. It’s like when they say my mother has a credit card and knows how to use it,” she said quickly. “That’s totally lame. Everybody knows how to use a credit card.”

“Maybe it’s a gag from an old movie. Not a cool movie like Star Trek, but something else.” Karin wrapped her apple core in a napkin and tucked it into her pocket. The argument outside had ended, or gotten quieter, and they couldn’t hear it any longer. “Your brother won’t keep you from coming here, will he?”

“I hope not.” While Aaron hadn’t forbidden her to visit the Nibble Nook, Melanie knew he didn’t like it. “But he’s just my half brother. My mother is our father’s sixth wife. Um...his sixth ex-wife. So we hardly know each other,” she said hurriedly. Aaron was unpopular in Cooperton; she didn’t want anyone thinking they were close.

Karin blinked. “Ohmigod, your dad’s gotten married six times?”

Melanie cringed. People were curious about her father getting married and divorced so often. The newspapers called him “S. S. Hollister, the man with an ex-wife in every port.”

“More than six now. He gets married a bunch.”

“I’m never getting married,” Karin announced. “I’m going to be a scientist and find the cure to everything. Like colds. I hate colds.”

“Me, too,” Melanie agreed, relieved at the change of subject. She liked that Karin didn’t seem to know or care about the crap about her family.

It was strange to feel like an only child when she had four half brothers and three half sisters, all with the same father and different mothers. Well, except for April and Tamlyn, who were twins. You couldn’t talk about “our” parents, just my mother, and their mother, and our father. And some of her ex-stepmothers had kids by other marriages, making it even more tangled.

Of course, since Aaron was the oldest, he probably had it the worst. She wasn’t the youngest, though; Pierre was just seven and he was an obnoxious brat.

“We better get out of here.” Crouching, Karin crept back to the rear storage room to keep from being seen through the windows. She straightened and opened the refrigerator. “Do you want milk or anything?”

“No, thanks,” Melanie said absently. She was looking at a photograph on the wall over a small desk in the corner. It was Karin and Mrs. Gibson, a smiling man she knew was Karin’s dad and two older people. She pointed to them. “Are they your grandparents?”

“Yup. My dad’s mom and pop. They live a few miles away in Trident where they run the Nibble Nook Too. The Nibble Nook also used to be their hamburger stand, but they gave it to my dad when he married my mom.” She sat on the desk and swung her legs as she drank a carton of milk.

“What about your grandparents on your mom’s side?”

Karin shrugged. “She doesn’t like talking about them.”

That made Melanie feel better.

Maybe everybody had family who weren’t so terrific. And most of her brothers and sisters weren’t too embarrassing. There was Aaron, and after him, Jake and then Matthew. Jake and his mother were famous photographers, and Matt was a playboy, same as their father.

After Matt came the twins—April and Tamlyn were gorgeous like their Las Vegas showgirl mother, but didn’t act bigheaded. It would be fantabulous to have their figures. Melanie had never met Oona, who was closest to her in age, but she’d had to watch Pierre once when they were both visiting their father. The little monster. She was personally in favor of putting him in a cage and feeding him through a hole.

“Melanie,” called Aaron from outside the hamburger stand. “Get your books. I’m going home early.”

“Coming,” she called back, wrinkling her nose.

* * *

AARON TRIED TO make small talk with Melanie as he drove to the house, but her monosyllabic responses didn’t help.

One of his biggest challenges was figuring out how much freedom his sister should be given. Her mother had mentioned a need for strong discipline, which struck him as ironic since Eliza only saw her daughter a few weeks out of the year. How would she know? Still, while he didn’t want to treat Melanie the way he’d been treated as a kid, for her sake, he also didn’t want to make the wrong choices.

He sighed as he pulled into the driveway. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t believe you about going to the library, but when I saw you at that hamburger joint I figured you’d...”

“Lied,” she finished flatly.

“You know I don’t approve of the Nibble Nook.” He wasn’t prepared to put the place off-limits, but he did want to discourage her from going there. He’d had a brief fling with Skylar in high school, and she was hardly the influence his sister should have in her turbulent world—it was tough enough being one of S. S. Hollister’s kids, a man who collected and discarded wives with casual speed. She certainly didn’t need a smart-mouthed, troublemaking high-school dropout as a role model.

Melanie released her seat belt. “Why don’t you approve?”

“Cooper Industry employees are the Nibble Nook’s main customers, and some of them don’t like the new rules I’ve had to make,” he said. It was a valid concern, just not the whole truth.

“Yeah, right.” She got out, slammed the car door as hard as possible and stomped toward the house, her heavy book bag slung over her shoulder and other books clutched in her arms.

“Leave the books. I’ll bring them,” he urged.

She didn’t stop and Aaron grimaced.

There was a shred of truth in Skylar’s accusations. Melanie needed more attention, but there just weren’t enough hours in the days. Take the house for example...the lawn needed mowing and the gardener had quit. There weren’t any other gardening service companies in town, and the local kids didn’t seem interested in earning money by doing yard work.

For that matter, the house was another complication he hadn’t anticipated. Originally he’d moved into an apartment over the company’s business offices, which had been used only once by his grandparents when they were remodeling the kitchen and bathrooms in their house. But when his former stepmother had asked him to take Melanie for the school year, he’d found something more suitable for a teenager.

His cell phone rang and he pulled it out. “Yeah?”

“This is Jim Browning, down at the plant,” said a vaguely familiar voice. “I got your number from Peggy in the main office. Mr. Cooper always wanted us to ring if there was a problem.”

Aaron let out a breath. “What can I do for you, Mr. Browning?”

The employee droned on, detailing a minor issue with the processor for boxing up one of their products, a type of flavored tortilla chip. Cooper Industries produced a wide variety of items, and Aaron reminded himself that making snack foods might not be the same as creating life-saving drugs, but they were important to the company.

“I understand,” Aaron finally broke in. “You’ve arranged for repairs and the boxes can be manually sealed in the meantime.”

“Er...yes, sir. I’m sorry I bothered you, but Mr. Cooper did insist....” The foreman’s words trailed off uncertainly.

Aaron drew a calming breath, realizing he’d probably been too abrupt. The people in Cooperton were chatty, while he wanted to get to the point and stop wasting time. “It’s fine. Your instructions may be modified in the future, but in the meantime, you’re following procedure. Thank you.”

He turned off the phone with relief. He’d left a lucrative CEO position in the computer industry when his eightysomething grandfather finally decided to retire, but he never expected it to be so tough. George Cooper had been an old-school manager, with every decision, large and small, going across his desk. Basically, the place was still being run like a small mom-and-pop shop, rather than a major business producing dozens of different convenience-food items. Responsibility needed to be spread among divisions, with midlevel managers taking the lead on day-to-day operations—except the company couldn’t afford that type of reorganization for a while.

Aaron dropped his keys in his pocket and walked into the house. His grandparents had halfheartedly offered to let him move in with them, but it wouldn’t have been good for Melanie. His sister wasn’t related to the Coopers except through their ex-son-in-law, and they weren’t the warmest people in the first place. He knew; he’d grown up with them. And no matter what Skylar thought about him, he refused to inflict their idea of hospitality on his sister. Even if he didn’t know what was best for a teenage girl, he wanted Melanie to be happy.

“Melanie?” he called. “What do you want for dinner?”

After a long minute she appeared at the top of the stairs and stared at him coolly. “You mean you’re asking?”

Oh, God.

Pain throbbed in his temples. She was usually very sweet and accommodating—almost too accommodating—but apparently he couldn’t say anything right at the moment. Not that Melanie didn’t have cause to be touchy—he’d royally stuck his foot in his mouth—but if this was what it meant to be a parent, you could keep it.

“Yes, I’m asking,” he said as calmly as possible.

“Whatever I want?”

Yeah, she could have whatever she wanted...as long as it came from a restaurant that delivered or had a take-out menu. He didn’t cook. Toast, oatmeal and coffee in the morning were the extent of his culinary skills.

“Within reason.”

Melanie lifted her chin. “I’ll take a chicken sandwich and sweet-potato fries from the Nibble Nook.”

“That isn’t within reason. You know the Nibble Nook is closed for the day.”

“Then I don’t care. I have geometry problems and an English assignment to finish.” She turned and disappeared.

The afternoon just kept getting better and better. Aaron arched his back, trying to release the tension. He really had to deal with the yard. The neighborhood association had written, complaining about the length of the grass. Why anybody minded, he didn’t know. This wasn’t the garden district of New Orleans, it was a little town that rolled up its sidewalks at night and on Sundays.

Despite his grandfather’s expectations that he would eventually take over one day, Aaron had never wanted to live in Cooperton again...and yet here he was. Of course, coming back would have been easier if George Cooper had retired before the business had fallen apart. Once Aaron got it viable again he’d have to evaluate whether he was going to stay, or consider other options.

Putting on jeans and a work shirt, Aaron went out to the garage. The rented house hadn’t come furnished, but he’d seen a lawn mower and had a couple of hours of daylight left to work.

Forty minutes later he was hot, sweaty, and his shoulders ached. He gazed perplexed at the mower that refused to start; he was a novice at cutting grass, but it shouldn’t be tough to figure out. The mower had gas, and he didn’t think it was terribly old. Yet the damn thing wouldn’t go. Maybe the gardening service used to bring their own equipment because this one was broken.

Frustrated, Aaron shoved the mower back into the garage and headed into the house. The service had told him they were overextended with customers and regretted terminating him as a client, but their regrets didn’t help him get the lawn mowed.

In the kitchen he leafed through a stack of menus. They hadn’t ordered pizza in over a week, and Mama Gianni’s also had a decent chicken Greek salad. Pizza from Vittorino’s Italiano was better, but they didn’t deliver except on weekends. He dialed Mama Gianni’s and ordered the Meat Lover’s special and a family-size salad. Yet as he hung up the phone, he heard Skylar’s voice in his head.

Do you even know what pizza she likes?

Shut up, Skylar, he ordered silently.

She hadn’t changed much since high school—she still had that gorgeous auburn hair and green eyes...and a mouth that wouldn’t quit. She’d sassed the teachers, cussed out the principal, gotten suspended more than once for breaking every rule in the book, and finally dropped out before graduation. It was ironic that a girl who’d skated through classes by the skin of her teeth was now diligently overseeing her kid’s homework. And she wondered why he questioned if she might be a bad influence.

Yet a part of him didn’t blame Skylar for being antagonistic. She’d represented a challenge when they were kids—his pals had dared him to nail her and he wasn’t proud of his teenage self for taking that dare, or for dropping her once he’d done it. No woman, young or old, appreciated being treated that way. It was also hypocritical to think her sexual activity in high school was any more questionable than his own.

When the food came, Aaron ran upstairs to tell Melanie. She was in front of the television, watching a baseball game. She didn’t look up, just nodded and said she’d come down after a while.

“Don’t you want to eat together?” The question had nothing to do with Skylar; he’d already thought they should share more meals. At the same time, he didn’t want to force anything on Melanie—until recently they’d been little more than casual acquaintances.

“I don’t care.”

I don’t care... How many times a day did he hear that from her? Good Lord, teenagers were impossible, and Aaron felt a fleeting sympathy for his grandparents. He wasn’t close to them, though his grandfather had supposedly “groomed” him to take over the company...mostly with lectures about the value of hard work. Nonetheless, it couldn’t have been easy to take on a resentful kid, tired of being shuffled between his divorced parents and other relatives. That was one of the reasons he’d agreed to have Melanie live with him for the year. He could have refused, but he knew what it was like to be a Ping-Pong ball in someone else’s battle of wills.