Melinda took a breath of fresh air. 'Peace and quiet at last.'
She lifted the hem of her dress as she cautiously sat down on a sofa in the patio. This dress was rented, after all, so she had to be careful to return it in pristine condition.
She was alone out here, but still had a good view of the banquet hall and the dance floor. A lot of young couples were twirling around, her sister-in-law included.
Yulia was obviously in her element, lost in the dance and the crowd. People were even starting to notice her, finally.
Melinda wasn’t at all surprised. Yulia had always been a party girl.
Once the song ended, however, her dance partner only thanked her and then walked away. No one else approached her after that.
Yulia was feeling indignant. In her eyes, this was all Melinda’s fault. The men’s mortifying lack of interest in her was all because of her brother’s wife.
She looked around for her nemesis and finally found her sitting alone on the patio, casually watching the other guests. Yulia strode over to the banquet table and grabbed two glasses of wine, and then stomped over to where her sister-in-law was.
As she neared, she became aware just how Melinda’s radiance seemed to occupy the little space. It only pissed her further.
"Melinda," she spat out as soon as she stepped out into the patio. "What are you doing here by yourself?"
Without waiting for an invitation, Yulia sat herself down on a nearby chair, making a point of sitting as far away as the other woman as possible. In truth, Yulia’s feet had been killing her all night.
She had decided to wear stilettos in an attempt to look taller than she actually was, hoping that her added height would gain people’s attention. She was regretting her choice of footwear now, not that she would ever admit it.
"It’s quieter here," Melinda answered. She wasn’t expecting Yulia to find her so soon, much less come and sit with her.
Still holding the glasses of wine, Yulia handed one towards Melinda. The latter took on a wary expression, and did not take the drink.
Melinda was not stupid. In light of recent events, she had grown vigilant of her sister-in-law. There was no way she would ever consume something that had passed through Yulia’s hands.
As if she read her mind, Yulia gave her a reassuring smile. Melinda’s guard only rose even more.
"I wanted to propose a toast to you, for a pulling of a successful social appearance." When Melinda only looked at her, Yulia’s tone grew stern, although the smile was still in place. "Don’t make me lose face, Melinda. A lot of people are watching."
Melinda looked around and found Yulia’s words to be false. There were few people around them, even fewer watching them.
Yulia was a little embarrassed by her movements, but she did not budge. Melinda flashed a regal smile and said, "You know I’m not a drinker." She had already drunk a glass of champagne earlier, and had no plans to take any more alcohol tonight.
Still, Yulia’s outstretched hand did not waver, and Melinda narrowed her eyes at the younger woman. The proper response would have been to not insist on making the other person drink, yet Yulia was still pushing.
As a matter of fact, Yulia wanted to get Melinda drunk. She expected the latter to make a fool of herself once the alcohol dulled her senses.
"Don’t be silly. You have nothing to worry about. This wine doesn’t even have much alcohol content." The two women were still smiling at each other, but the looks they were exchanging were sharp.
"As the younger madam of the family, you must know that you’ll be attending such occasions in the future. Don’t you think you should get used to getting a drink or two sooner than later?"
Melinda frowned. Yulia had a point, of course. But she was quite certain she wouldn’t be attending any social engagement in the future. Queena obviously wouldn’t want that, and she highly doubted Jonas would even bother taking her.
Besides, Yulia’s relentless insistence only made the gesture more suspicious. Melinda would never take that drink. They kept staring at each other in a stalemate when a male voice broke in. "Let me drink that in her place." The two women turned to look at the man, who was gazing intently at Melinda. "It would be my honor."
The man was wearing a navy blue suit, and his hair was mussed in a way that seemed careless, but was far too complementary to his looks to be anything but.
He had a magnetic energy surrounding him, and his eyes held an inviting look as his sensuous lips curved into a smile.
Yulia’s heart began to pound in her chest, and she could feel an intense blush creeping into her face. That was, until she realized the man was turning on his charm for Melinda, who for her part was looking quite stunned herself.
"That would be okay, I hope?" His question seemed to pull Melinda back to her senses, and she stammered a vague response. The man’s smile turned into a grin.
Yulia watched this development in anger. ‘Why? Why is it always Melinda?!’
She had a fleeting thought about how people only cared about appearances, but acknowledging that would be an admission that she looked inferior to her sister-in-law.
People only paid attention to a person who was extremely attractive, or extremely hideous. Since she was neither, and only teetered somewhere in between, all the attention she always got was superficial and brief.
Fueled by her jealousy, Yulia ignored the man, rose from her seat, and thrust the wineglass in front of Melinda’s face. "This is a toast to you, so naturally, you should be drinking."
"Excuse me," the man interjected, stepping in between them and effectively blocking Yulia. "Drinking at events is not something that should be forced upon the guests.
I’ve seen you offer this lady a drink, and I’ve seen her refuse it. Still you insisted, and so I stepped in to drink it in her stead.
Now you act as if I don’t exist at all, and persist yet again on forcing her to take it against her wishes. Let me ask you, Miss, were your manners learnt from the market stalls in the slums?"
"I beg your pardon!" Yulia was furious. How dare this man mock her? And with such nonchalance!
She was particularly sensitive when it came to her background, she always had been. She knew she was greatly lacking in etiquette, and she had worked hard to remedy that, and to remedy other people’s preconceived notions about her. Despite her efforts, she found out the hard way that in the eyes of the truly rich, she would always be a bastard child born from a woman of lowly background. And now some stranger just waltzed up and taunted her, poking fun at where it hurt the most. She was angry and humiliated beyond words. She narrowed her eyes at the man, her hand trembling with emotion. "You..." Before she could say any further, however, she lost some of her balance on the high heels she had already been struggling with.
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