Part 29 (1/2)

She stood across the display case from Mel in her blue chef's coat looking like she wanted some dough to knead, or more accurately some b.u.t.t to kick. Mel glanced at Marty, Olivia's sort of boyfriend, and he gave her a sheepish shrug.

”What if it is?” Angie asked.

She turned and strode toward Olivia, looking like she was getting ready to do some damage. To Olivia's credit, she didn't even flinch, which was saying something since the two of them had rumbled before.

Tate deftly slid in between Angie and Olivia and looped his arm around Angie's shoulders, anchoring her to his side. He met Mel's gaze over Angie's head and gave her a bug-eyed look that she interpreted to mean he wanted her to take the discussion elsewhere.

Right, because Olivia was about as easy to move as a mountain. Feeling cranky about the Vegas sitch, Mel opted to go on the offensive instead.

”Maybe we are. What's it to you?”

Tate's eyes almost popped out of his head while Marty clapped his hands onto his bald head as if he had just witnessed a car crash and had no idea what to do.

”I'll tell you what's it to me, Princess,” Olivia snarled. ”With a tasty knuckle sandwich.”

She began to roll up her sleeves. Mel stepped around the counter. She was feeling just ornery enough to welcome a scuffle. She and Olivia started to circle each other like two boxers squaring off in a ring.

”I can serve up a pretty mean five across the lip when I want to,” Mel said. She hoped she was the only one who heard the lack of confidence in her voice. Truth to be told, when upset, she was more of a snacker than a fighter.

”Code Blue,” Tate said to Marty.

”What?” Marty squawked.

”Code Blue!” Tate yelled. The veins in his neck began to pop and Mel wondered how much pressure he was exerting to keep Angie in place. ”We talked about this; this is a Code Blue situation.”

”I can't remember what Code Blue means!” Marty cried.

”Think!” Tate growled.

Marty's face puckered up with the effort. Then he broke into a smile. ”Oh, yeah!”

With a smooth move the likes of which were seen only in Fred Astaire movies, he vaulted over the counter by swinging his legs up and over the side, dropping to his feet right in front of Olivia.

She looked surprised and then went to move him aside, but Marty wasn't having it.

”No, Liv,” Marty said. ”We need to talk.”

Olivia made a face like she'd just tasted something sour.

”You just don't want me to pound your boss into the tile,” she said. She sounded put out about the whole thing and Mel felt behooved to protest.

”Who says you're going to pound me? I could take you with one hand tied behind my back,” Mel said. She lifted her right arm and flexed her muscle; it sagged and she hastily put her arm down.

”This thing between you and me,” Marty said. He pointed from her to him and back. ”We need to make it official.”

Olivia blinked. Her mouth trembled and her eyes got watery with tears. ”Oh, Martin, I don't know what to say.”

”That's right,” he said. He puffed out his chest as if he was quite proud of himself for coming to this place in life. ”I think it's time you became my official girlfriend.”

Olivia's face fell. ”What?”

”That's right,” he said. ”I want to make you my main squeeze.”

Olivia plopped her hands on her hips and glared. ”What does that mean? I get a dresser drawer in your bedroom of my own now? Is that the elevated status you're offering me?”

”I thought you'd be happy,” he said. ”You're always asking me where this is going. I figured we could make our coupleness official-like.”

”Official-like? We've been dating for over six months. I thought I already was your girlfriend,” she said.

”Oh,” Marty said. He cast Tate a worried look, who helped him out with a shrug.

”Martin Zelaznik, you're about as romantic as a case of beer,” Olivia snapped.

”Hey, a microbrew can be very romantic!” Marty argued.

”To a knuckle-dragging Neanderthal,” Olivia shouted.

”She has a point,” Angie said. ”Six months is a long time for a woman to go undefined.”

”True that,” Mel said. ”You really can't string a girl along like that.”

Marty looked outraged. ”What? You're on her side now?”

Mel and Angie exchanged a look of understanding with Olivia. Then they nodded.

”Well, if that don't beat all,” Marty exploded. He glowered at Olivia. ”Fine, if you're looking for more from me then spell it out. What do you want exactly?”

”Living together,” Olivia said. ”If we're a couple, then I want that crinkled-up old face to be the first thing I see every morning and the last thing I see before I go to sleep.”

”Is she even listening to herself speak?” Tate asked Angie.

”Shh,” Angie hissed.

”But . . . but . . . but . . .” Marty stammered.

”I'm giving you one week to decide,” Olivia said. ”If you choose not to live together then we're done, finished, as in, Hit the road, Jack, and don't you come back no more, no more, no more, no more.”

Mel glanced at Marty while Olivia sang the rest of her ultimatum. He looked like he'd been smacked upside the head with a rolling pin.