Chapter 113 The Center Of Attention
Chapter 113 The Center Of Attention
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. Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.
"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.
The glass of wine tottered in her grip, the liquid splashing loudly on the man’s suit. A tense hush fell over the patio.
The man only frowned as the wine slowly leeched into his jacket, making a dark stain. He calmly took out a handkerchief and dabbed at the stain, to no avail.
The damage was done, and it looked to be rather irreversible.
Yulia was mortified. 'How did things end up like this?' Realizing what the man was doing, she quickly put down the glasses and reached out to him.
"I’m so sorry, I lost my balance. I didn’t mean for this to happen. Let me help you with that."
But before she could even touch his jacket, the man sidestepped to avoid her, and shot her a look of disdain. "I don’t think I need any help from you," he said coldly. Melinda finally came to her senses. The development of the events was much too fast-paced and quite intense that she just sat there, dazedly watching everything.
She now rose from the sofa, and tried to step between the man and Yulia, hoping to settle the matter amicably. "Sir, we do apologize. I assure you, it wasn’t on purpose at all, how about we—"
"Stop meddling, you hypocrite!" Yulia cut her off, glaring at Melinda with unmistakable fury. Melinda could only stare back at her in embarrassment. She couldn’t believe Yulia just did that.
The man, on the other hand, frowned even deeper, and looked back and forth between the two ladies.
He could see now that they seemed to be dressed similarly, but while one looked like a regal socialite, the other only looked like some cheap city girl.
The cheap city girl now turned back to him. "As I was saying, let me help you with the dry cleaning."
A crowd had gathered nearby, and people were watching them shamelessly. Perhaps it was because of their controversially alike outfits.
Perhaps it was because the man who joined them was undeniably attractive. Either way, Yulia knew she was looking extremely bad in all this, and she scrambled to save face.
"And like I said," the man said coldly, "there’s no need for your assistance at all. Since this beautiful lady was so kind to apologize on your behalf, even though her efforts are obviously unappreciated, I’ll let this matter slide against my better judgment.
I suggest that you, Miss, make an effort to learn social etiquette. It would most certainly be of use to you." Then he smiled at her, but Yulia recognized his sarcasm all too clearly.
Not only did he imply that she was ungrateful, he also emphasized how she was out of place at such a high end gathering.
She could hear some whispers from the people nearby, and while utterly humiliated, she could not find anything to say to salvage the situation. Gritting her teeth, she walked away from the patio.
The man turned to look at Melinda and flashed her another boyish smile, as though nothing happened.
"Can you spare a dance for me, as sympathy for the very unlucky fate of my wardrobe?" He winked.
Melinda couldn’t help the chuckle that burst out of her. This was such a ridiculous turn of events!
Realizing she must come off rude for laughing, she quickly composed herself, and covered her mouth. Her eyes, though, still held some mirth, and it didn’t escape the man’s notice.
She cleared her throat. "I think it would be better if you had a change of attire first. I’ll be waiting here." That meant, of course, that yes, she would dance with him.
She realized soon after that it would look bad to the other men she refused earlier, but she didn’t dwell on the matter. For all she knew, nobody would notice anyway. The man looked at her curiously. This woman was getting more and more interesting by the minute. He signaled for his assistant, and gave instructions to fetch a spare set of clothes from his car.
Then he followed Melinda to the sofa, and sat beside her. "I hope you wouldn’t mind my company, beautiful lady.
I’ve asked my assistant to get me some spare clothes. I think I shall wait here lest other men snatch my dance partner away."
His words amused Melinda. He was laying the charm on thick, all right. Not that it had any of its desired effects, but she couldn’t help smiling.
The assistant was back in a matter of moments, and the man disappeared to a nearby rest room to change. He emerged after a short while, this time dressed in a silver gray suit. It didn’t escape Melinda how his new ensemble seemed to match her own outfit.
The fabric of his suit was a bit more on the darker side, but had a satin-like finish to it that gave it glints of silver. He accessorized with gold cuff links, which stood out against his suit, and at the same time, called attention to his high status.
The pair walked into the dance floor together, and the guests gawked at them. They looked very well- matched, indeed. They were quite a spectacle to behold as they danced, their graceful movements
perfectly attuned to each other. The light bounced off of their clothes, giving them an otherworldly glow.
Melinda was smiling up at her partner, her head tilted to a graceful angle, her dainty chin slightly raised towards her partner.
The man’s eyes never left her face, his gaze turning soft and tender as they twirled around.
To any stranger watching, they looked to be the perfect picture of a couple in love. They attracted everyone’s attention, and it made Melinda squirm.
The man noticed her discomfort, and as soon as the song ended, he ushered his dance partner to the side under the pretense of getting something to eat. "I’m quite famished."
Melinda smiled at him in gratitude, feeling warm from his thoughtful consideration. It somehow slipped her mind that, as they walked out of the dance floor, they were still holding hands.
The man brought her to a quiet place on the opposite side of the patio. He carefully seated Melinda before going to the buffet table by himself to get some food.
When he returned, she was pleasantly surprised to discover that he somehow picked the same foods she ate earlier. Clearly, he had been paying attention, and the warmth in her grew. She smiled as she reached for a sandwich and took a big bite.
The man watched her with barely concealed interest. "How can you eat so much and still look so magnificent? That’s rather unfair." He said it so easily that while she knew he was complimenting her, the joke stood out to Melinda more than the praise. She decided she wouldn’t mind a bit of witty repartee.
"You know, I’m sure you’re trying to pay me a compliment, but you seem to have said a bit more than that."
"Well actually..." The man took a heavy breath in mock exasperation, and then cupped his chin as though in deep thought. "The truth of the matter is that I wanted to ask you if you have a secret regimen because I think I could use some of that."