black mark in Melanie’s book, he wouldn’t ever be under consideration accepting a ride home from him. Even her fingers felt dirty where he had kissed them. No amount of rubbing them on the expensive linen napkin that matched the tablecloth would make her feel clean. The soil of his touch seemed to reach far deeper than just mere skin alone.
Rescue was out of the question. She wanted to escape.
Melanie wondered why her father didn’t seem to notice the way Peter looked at his wife. Every time Peter cast his attention her mother’s way, her mother would titter and blush.
Mrs. Barstow had been placed on Peter’s other side, so Melanie had to sit next to Mr. Barstow.
Throughout the meal, her father conducted numerous private conversations with Peter. As the wine flowed and the evening’s candles melted down to half their size, everyone grew quite loose and chatty. Although Peter had not looked directly at her mother much during the whole dinner, Mrs. Worthington was so charged with sexual energy, Melanie could almost smell it. No doubt about who Georgia wished she could go home with.
Peter played along with her mother. He blushed when Mrs. Worthington slipped by him to pour wine or bring something to the table. She almost couldn’t keep her hands off him, yet he didn’t seem to find it embarrassing as Melanie did. Melanie’s father seemed not to notice.
If she were truly wicked, Melanie could flirt with Peter in front of her mother. Her evil twin could get drunk and hang all over him, throw herself at him in front of her father. After all, she’d already paid the price. Even though her hatred was long and deep, she was done abusing herself, done with allowing herself to be a victim of her mother’s schemes. And her father was clueless. Melanie decided she would just outlast them, since changing the family dynamics would be impossible. And it wasn’t really worth it, after all.
The Barstows left early, immediately following dinner. Mr. Barstow had become overwhelmed with sadness. Mel braced herself for the part of the evening when the gloves were going to come off.
But even with Melanie’s best intentions, circumstances changed the end of the evening. Her taxi didn’t arrive, although everyone waited nearly forty-five minutes for it. Melanie thought it was silly that everyone kept pretending the call her mother made to the taxi company had actually gone out. She had to concede defeat, as she was getting tired. She accepted Peter’s gracious offer to drive her home.
With Peter’s hands clutching the tops of her shoulders, almost causing pain, Melanie gave her mother a good night kiss and thanked her curtly. Her mother’s warm peck on Peter’s cheek was punctuated with a slight moan and sigh. They shared a knowing glance that sent her father into a frown. Melanie finally understood that her father was employed by her mother in a business of marriage and was responsible for providing all things pleasurable, as long as he could. And when he was no longer useful…well, there would be a grave somewhere no one would visit. Ever. Perhaps her mother was already looking for a younger man to satisfy certain appetites she no doubt still had.
On the walkway leading from the front steps, Peter took her hand.
“Be good, you two,” her mother called out into the night air. Suddenly free from the constraints of the stifling mansion, Melanie was possessed with an errant burst of rebellion.
“Don’t worry, Mother. I’ll make sure he remains a virgin. I’ll save him for you!” Melanie was sure her mother heard her caustic words as the murderous slam of the front door came a little too late.
Peter was laughing so hard he almost fell over. “You are wicked, positively wicked, Melanie Worthington.”
“Yes, I see you have that effect on me.” Melanie didn’t feel like laughing. “So I take it you like my family, especially my beautiful mother.”
“Oh yes, but she pales in comparison”
“If you value
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