Hot Fudge Fraud (6 page)

Chapter 6

Keith’s eyes twinkled as he pressed the Penthouse button on the elevator.  “I meant it when I said you’re a first class lady.”

Speechless, Melanie held her breath as the elevator climbed to the top floor.  Her heart
somersaulted into her gut as the lift made its definitive stop at the penthouse floor.  Keith slid an arm around her waist and guided her to their suite.  Whistling under his breath, he unlocked the door to the suite with a sweeping “tah-dah.”

Slowly, Melanie walked into the cluster of rooms, taking inventory of the cathedral high ceilings and gold plated chandeliers.  The penthouse suite
boasted a master bedroom with a massive round bed swaddled in curtains and a smaller but equally opulent guest bedroom.

“The master bedroom is all yours,” Keith offered as Melanie nodded, unsure how to respond.  The
ostentatious surroundings had temporarily kidnapped her brain, and she wandered around the suite in awe.

“Well if those first class flights were surreal…” she murmured, resisting the compulsion to pinch her fleshy upper arm.

“I’m glad you like it,” Keith said, shrugging out of his jacket.  “There are also two bathrooms in here.  And of course, I’ll defer to you.  I’ll take the smaller bathroom.”

“Keith, this is too much,” Melanie exclaimed, snapping back to reality.  “This isn’t a second date.  It’s a second honeymoon!  I can’t let you pay for all this…”

“Already have.  On the credit card.  Just enjoy it.  That’s all I want from you,” he whispered, taking her hand and leading her to the terrace that offered a stunning view of Dublin.

“Wow,” she breathed.  In the rain and haze, the city appeared mystical. 
I wouldn’t be surprised to see a leprechaun trotting down the street.
 
Or a rainbow with a pot of gold at the end of it.
  “This is extraordinary.  There are simply no words.”

Keith tenderly kissed the top of her head and announced with a smirk, “I’m going to take a shower in my peasant’s bathroom.  If you’d like to freshen up in your queen’s bathroom, by all means, go ahead.”

Giggling, she responded, “You don’t need to use the peasant’s bathroom!  We can take turns with the royal one!”

Instead of answering, he simply smiled and disappeared into the tiny bathroom inside the guest bedroom.  In a daze, Melanie glided into the “queen’s bathroom” and grimaced as soon as she looked in the mirror.  Her lips were parched and caked with lipstick.  Some lip color had even migrated onto her teeth, she realized in humiliation.  Her hair was a rumpled disaster, and she certainly smelled like she had been in transit for 24 hours.

Turning on the shower jets, she peeled off her sweaty clothes and ran a comb through her knotted hair.  A moment later, she luxuriated under dual massaging shower heads, basking in the sensation of hot water spilling over her skin.  She scrubbed all the grime of the intercontinental voyage off her body and kneaded an extra squirt of shampoo into her tresses.

Afterwards, she sank into an oversize hotel bathrobe and made her way over to the freshly made bed.  Grabbing for her cell phone, she placed a call to her father to let him know she arrived safely.  From the guest bedroom, she detected the beeping of Keith’s text notifications.  A moment later, he cursed and threw something against the wall.  Trying not to become alarmed, Melanie spoke into the phone as her father picked up. 

“Um, hi Dad, I just wanted to let you know I’m here in Ireland,” she said, hoping the long distance would mask the fact that her voice was trembling.

“Oh, I’m so relieved!  Safe and sound!  And don’t you worry, Sunny is doing just fine.  We’re at Hot Fudge Fancy right no
w.  Holdin’ down the fort,” Mr. Bradley said brightly.

“That’s great, Dad.  How’s everything going at the shop?” She inquired as Keith’s phone beeped again in the other room.

“Pretty good.  Steady stream of customers today.  Boy is it a hot one!  93 degrees!  Your ice pops have been selling really well today.  And I sold a bunch of frozen smoothies too,” Mr. Bradley revealed as he chomped down on a chocolate chip ice cream sandwich.

“Are you eating the inventory over there, Dad?” Melanie asked innocently.

Sheepishly, her father replied, “Guilty as charged.  These ice cream sandwiches are heavenly.”

“It’s okay.  I do it all the time.  My usual lunch is
a cinnamon apple sundae!” Melanie confessed.

Mr. Bradley laughed and said, “Well, I don’t want to keep you on the phone.  Thanks for letting me know you’re safe.  Have a good vacation, honey.”

“Thanks Dad.  I’ll talk to you soon,” Melanie replied, glad that she hadn’t revealed the unsettling details of their botched flight out of North Charleston.  No need to worry her father when he was thousands of miles away.

Keith emerged from the guest room wearing a bathrobe to match hers.  “Love your bathrobe,” he quipped.

“Yes, don’t I have great style?” She joked.  Inwardly, she debated whether or not to press Keith about the bothersome messages that seemed to be persisting.  As he made his way over to her with an intense regard on his face, she decided against it.

“You look so beautiful without any makeup on,” Keith marveled
passionately before commenting in a lighter tone, “I can see those freckles more clearly.”

Self-consciously, Melanie touched a hand to her freckled nose as Keith tilted his head in open appreciation.  “Thanks,” she mumbled.

Unexpectedly, he drew her into his arms and kissed her more passionately than he had dared so far.  She stood on her toes to reach his enticing mouth as the thick fabric of their robes created a barrier between their bodies.  Keith plundered her mouth hungrily, momentarily forgetting all notions of being a perfect gentleman.  Her natural beauty was too potent for him to resist.

Breaking off the kiss, she shocked both of them as she untied the sash on her robe and let the garment fall off her shoulders.
  Droplets of water from the shower still beaded her skin as Keith drank in his fill of the bewitching sight.  Eagerly, he shed his own bathrobe so they were both fully nude and facing each other.  Lifting her into his arms, he carried her to the round bed and lay her down gently.

*****

Not quite resurfaced from ecstasy, Keith and Melanie nestled in each other’s arms underneath the sheets.  Her cheek rested on his still palpitating heart as his fingers weaved through her
flaxen mane.  With his eyes closed, he managed to say, “I guess I’m not going to be sleeping in the guest room tonight.”

“That’s right!
You’re staying right here with me in the master suite,” Melanie said passionately, curling closer to him.

“Well, if you insist,” Keith flirted.

Melanie didn’t feel like talking or joking after the intense union they had shared.  She hovered between waking and slumber as the sweet moments replayed in her mind.  It had been so long since she had been intimate with a man.  But she couldn’t recall it ever feeling so perfectly right…and intimate.  Was it because they had met as children that she felt so close to Keith?  Or was it something deeper than that?  All Melanie was sure of was that their split decision to come to Ireland had been right.

“Are you awake?” Keith
murmured against her ear.

“Sort of. 
But I feel so sleepy.  Now the jet lag is setting in.”

“That’s not jet lag, Melanie.  That’s blissful afterglow.  Sleep if you want.  We can grab a late dinner
.  Just like we did on our first date.”

“Okay,” she agreed happily, turning on her side so he was spooning her.

From this position, he molded his body to hers and kept his arms wrapped around her.  They slept for countless hours as a chilly Irish breeze wafted through the room. 

A plump moon had risen by the time they stirred in the bed.  Stretching like a kitten, Melanie woke up without any concept of time or place.  Vaguely, she knew that Keith was next to her, breathing softly.  Then, she remembered that they were in Dublin
.  She shook her head as each experience since he had stolen her away from the house in Isle of Palms seemed to be more surreal than the last.  Perhaps the most bizarre thing of all was that Keith had made no effort to move away in his sleep.  He had held her tightly since they made love and was still holding her now.

“Keith,” she ventured in a sleepy whisper.  Gently, she nudged him as he stirred awake.

“Oh wow, what time is it?” He mumbled, glancing over at the clock.

“No idea,” she sighed contentedly.

“It’s 9 pm,” he said, grinning.  “We better go get some dinner.”

“I’m
not going anywhere,” Melanie declared, flipping over so she was facing him.  “Let’s order room service.  I’m starving.  We can get a huge Irish dinner.  Corn beef and cabbage.  Beer.  Soda bread.  The works,” she suggested, smacking her lips.

“Glad to see we share the same taste in food,” Keith enthused.  “I do love a woman who eats.”

Melanie winced at the word ‘love.’  It seemed inappropriate to carelessly toss the word around after what they had shared.  With increasing unease, she wondered if the lovemaking hadn’t meant as much to him.  By baring her body, she had also exposed her soul.  But for him, the experience might have been much more casual.

“Are you okay?” He asked perceptively, noticing the
tense expression her features had assumed.

“I’m fine.  Just hungry,” she lied.

“Well then let me call room service right now,” Keith perked up, reaching onto the nightstand for a menu.

The Irish feast was delivered swiftly, and the couple shared the meal on the terrace.  The rain had subsided
, breathing into a mild and still night.  In semi-awkward silence, they devoured the food, making occasional comments about how delicious the corn beef was, but not saying much else.  Inside the suite, Keith’s phone beeped for the umpteenth time, and Melanie shot him an indignant look.

Slamming her fork on the table, she demanded, “Keith, who is that?  Is there something I should know about you?”

Immediately, she regretted the accusing tone of her voice as he glanced up from his food in surprise.  “I told you it’s nothing to worry about.  Someone just doesn’t get the picture that I don’t want to talk to them anymore.”

“Them or
her
?” Melanie persisted.

It sounded suspiciously like an ex-girlfriend was trying to contact Keith.  If this was how he treated his exes, she didn’t want to get any deeper involved with him, although it was a little late to turn back.  She had already traveled across the world with the man and slept with him on what was technically their second date.  Feelings were already taking shape in her heart, and she couldn’t control w
here those feelings would lead.

“Melanie, could we not talk about this?” Keith clipped in a stern tone.

“I know it’s none of my business.  But these messages have been coming through all day.  It just seems a little odd,” she said, looking down at her plate and stabbing a leaf of cabbage.

“Yes, well, the person calling me
is
odd.  In fact, she’s a psycho.  That’s why I don’t want to talk to her,” Keith revealed, taking a long drink of his beer.

“Psycho?  What are you talking about?  Keith, you can’t just leave off like that and not tell me the whole story.  If this person really is a psycho, I
think I have a right to know,” Melanie said sharply.

“Why?  She doesn’t know who you are.  She won’t come after you,” he argued before sighing and pushing his plate away.  “Listen, I’ll tell you the
story.  But after I tell you, promise me we’ll just go back to enjoying our evening together, okay?  I’ll only tell you under that condition.”

Melanie balked at his restriction.  “I don’t think that’s fair.  Tell me the story, and let me decide my own reaction.”

“You’re stubborn,” he observed, drawn into her unintentional charm.

“I prefer ‘strong-willed.’  But call it whatever you like.  Now tell me.  I’m listening.”

Keith curled his lips into a thin line, as he was reluctant to plunge into the topic.  Perceiving the mild impatience on Melanie’s face, he yielded and explained, “I got out of a relationship last year.  It wasn’t a long relationship.  Only lasted about 3 months.  But apparently, the girl thought it was much more serious.  We had different ideas of where the relationship was going. So I broke it off with her in a nice way.  Or at least I thought it was nice.”

“How did you break it off?”
She questioned.

“In person.  I didn’t want to go the cowardly route like all my friends and break up over the phone or through text,” Keith said as Melanie nodded with appreciation.

“If I’m a first class lady, then you are a first class gentleman, Mr. McBrennan.  A face to face break up is what every woman needs for closure.”

“Well that’s what I thought too!  But she was outraged.  She pun
ched me in the chest and threw her cell phone at me.  She just wouldn’t accept what I was telling her.  Ever since then, she’s been calling and texting on and off,” Keith sighed with disgust.