Christmas With Her Secret Prince. Nina Singh
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“Honestly, Mel. If you handle that invitation any more, it’s going to turn into ash in your hands.”
Melinda Osmon startled as her elderly, matronly employer walked by the counter where she sat waiting for her shift to begin. The older woman was right. This had to be at least the fifth or sixth time Mel had taken the stationery out simply to stare at it since it had arrived in her mailbox several days ago.
The Honorable Mayor and Mrs. Spellman request the pleasure of your presence...
“You caught me,” Mel replied, swiftly wiping the moisture off her cheeks.
“Just send in your reply already,” Greta added, her back turned to her as she poured coffee for the customer sitting at the end of the counter. The full breakfast crowd wasn’t due in for another twenty minutes or so. “Then figure out what you’re going to wear.”
Melinda swallowed past the lump in her throat before attempting an answer. “Greta, you know I can’t go this year. It’s just not worth the abject humiliation.”
Greta turned to her so fast that some of the coffee splashed out of her coffeepot. “Come again? What in the world do you have to be humiliated about?”
Not this again. Greta didn’t seem to understand, nor did she want to. How about the fact that Mel hadn’t yet moved on? Unlike her ex-husband. The ex-husband who would be at the same party with his fashionable, svelte and beautiful new fiancée. “Well, for one thing, I’d be going solo. That’s humiliating enough in itself.”
Greta jutted out her chin and snapped her gum loudly. “And why is that? You’re not the one who behaved shamefully and had the affair. That scoundrel you were married to should be the one feeling too ashamed to show his face at some fancy-schmancy party you both used to attend every year when you were man and wife.”
Mel cringed at the unfiltered description.
“Now, you listen to me, young lady—”
Luckily, another customer cleared his throat just then, clearly impatient for a hit of caffeine. Greta humphed and turned away to pour. Mel knew the reprieve would be short-lived. Greta had very strong opinions about how Mel should move along into the next chapter of her life. She also had very strong opinions about Mel’s ex. To say the older woman was outraged on Mel’s behalf was to put it mildly. In fact, the only person who might be even angrier was Greta’s even older sister, Frannie. Not that Mel wasn’t pretty outraged herself. A lot of good that did for her, though. Strong emotions were not going to get her a plus-one to the mayor’s Christmas soiree. And she certainly was nowhere near ready to face the speculation and whispery gossip that was sure to greet her if she set foot in that ballroom alone.
“She’s right, you know,” Frannie announced, sliding into the seat next to Mel. The two sisters owned the Bean Pot Diner on Marine Street in the heart of South Boston. The only place that would hire her when she’d found herself broke, alone and suddenly separated. “I hate to admit when that blabbermouth is right but she sure is about this. You should go to that party and enjoy yourself. Show that no-good, cheating charlatan that you don’t give a damn what he thinks.”
“I don’t think I have it in me, Frannie. Just to show up and then have to stare at Eric and his fiancée having the time of their lives, while I’ll be sitting there all alone.”
“I definitely don’t think you should do that.”
Well, that was a sudden change of position, Melinda thought, eyeing her friend. “So you agree I shouldn’t go?”
“No, that’s not what I said. I think you should go, look ravishing and then confront him about all he put you through. Then demand that he return your money.”
Melinda sighed. She should have seen that argument coming. “First of all, I gave him that money.” Foolishly. The hard-earned money that her dear parents had left her after their deaths. It was supposed to have been an investment in Eric’s future. Their future. She had gladly handed it to him to help him get through dental school. Then it was supposed to be her turn to make some kind of investment in herself while he supported her. Instead, he’d left her for his perky, athletic dental assistant. His much younger, barely-out-of-school dental assistant. And now they happily cared for teeth together during the day, while planning an extravagant wedding in their off-hours. “I gave it to him with no strings attached.”
“And you should take him to court to get some of it back!” Frannie slapped her palm against the counter. Greta sashayed back over to where the two of them sat.
“That’s right,” Greta declared. “You should go to that damn party looking pretty as a fashion model. Then demand he pay you back. Every last cent. Or you’ll see him in front of a judge.”
Mel sighed and bit down on the words that were forming on her tongue. As much as she longed to tell the two women to mind their own business, Mel just couldn’t bring herself to do it. They’d been beyond kind to her when she’d needed it the most. Not to mention, they were the closest thing to family Mel could count since her divorce a year ago.
“How? I barely have the money for court fees. Let alone any to hire an attorney.”
“Then start with the party,” Greta declared as her sister nodded enthusiastically. “At the very least, ruin his evening. Show him what he’s missing out on.”
Nothing like a couple of opinionated matrons double-teaming you.
Mel let out an unamused laugh. “As if. I don’t even have a dress to wear. I sold all my fancier clothes just to make rent that first month.”
Greta waved a hand in dismissal. “So buy another one. I tell you, if I had your figure and that great dark hair of yours, I’d be out shopping right now. Women like you can find even the highest-end clothing on sale.”
Mel ignored the compliment. “I can’t even afford the stuff on sale these days, Greta.”
“So take an advance on your paycheck,” Frannie offered from across the counter. “We know you’re good for it.”
Mel felt the immediate sting of tears. These women had taken her in when she’d needed friendship and support the most. She’d never be able to repay their kindness. She certainly had no desire to take advantage of it. “I can’t ask you to do that for me, ladies.”
“Nonsense,” they both said in unison.
“You’d be doing it for us,” Greta added.
“For you?”
“Sure. Let two old bats like us live vicariously through you. Go to that ball and then come back and tell us all about it.”
Frannie nodded in agreement. “That’s right. Especially the part about that no-good scoundrel begging you for forgiveness after he takes one look at ya.”
Mel smiled in spite of herself. These two certainly knew how to cook up a good fantasy. Eric had left her high and dry and never looked back even once. As far as fantasies went, she was more likely to turn a frog into a prince than receive any kind of apology from her ex-husband.
“I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon.” Or ever. Mel reached down to tighten the laces of her comfortable white tennis shoes. She had a very long shift ahead of her, starting with the breakfast crowd and ending with the early-evening dinner guests.
“You won’t know unless you go to this ball.”
She couldn’t even tell which of the ladies had thrown that out. Mel sighed and straightened to look at them both. Her bosses might look like gentle, sweet elderly ladies, complete with white hair done up in buns, but they could be relentless once they set their minds to something.
“All right. I give.”
They both squealed with delight. “Then it’s settled,” Frannie declared and clasped her hands in front of her chest.
Mel held a hand up. “Not so fast. I