Melanie.
Thursday.
Am in a meeting with our director and all the other agents, but I'm barely focused on a thing being said.
Since Malachi's revelation Sunday morning, I've been restless. My mind racing through time, trying to shield me from memories of dad, which only validate Malachi's absurd confession.
I'm seeing flashes of dad and am banishing them. Choosing to hold on to the last memories I have of him. The last impression I had of him.
There is no way my dad can be compared to these other men Malachi compared him with. Paul Heartstone and Justin Tenshaw.
My dad was pure. A saint, if I can call him that. He was our back bone. Carried everyone in the family. And Italian? Dad wasn't Italian. A true Spanish. He wouldn't lie about his heritage to Mamma and the rest of us.
But Malachi didn't elaborate further. Dropped that piece of information and allowed me wallow in befuddlement.
"Melanie?"
Joanna, my best friend, nudges me. I look at her, quizzically. She nods in the direction of our director.
"Y…Yes Sir?" I stutter, flustered.
"Melanie, what do you suggest about the home in Beverly Hills that the Randals want to purchase?"
The Randals currently are sorted in Real Estates, because of their reputation in the media. Once they purchase from you, they pose like ambassadors for your property. Other people seek you out just to live like the Randals.
"I think we should sell to them, even though we have to put in a lot to make it to their standard, considering their need for ecofriendly homes." I suggest, quietly.
God, am not am off kilter.
Carter checks a file and speaks. He's the one handling the Randals' case.
"They have a house in Houston worth something, which they want to equally put in the market with us. It belonged to Mrs Randal's mother. A gift. It's listed in their assets."
I shrug. "Since it's a gift from her mother, we can renovate that for them, and put it on as a lease. A rental. They gain back everything."
The director gazes at me, thoughtfully, nodding in agreement.
After the meeting, I rise to leave, when Devan, the director, stops me.
"Forgive me that I wasn't present to congratulate you personally on your wedding. I heard the news, while I was away." He smiles, standing in front of me.
"It's alright, Sir." I feign a smile.
It's all I can manage, when my own quest for vengeance, my rage, led me to a viper. Malachi.
"I would surely be attending the party on Saturday. I hope to be able to formally congratulate you both then." Devan smiles, politely.
He's probably in his late 40's, yet he maintains himself well. Devoted to his family.
"I would want you to handle the Randals' case." He discloses, as we walk out of the meeting room.
I freeze, shocked. He stops, his gaze falling on me.
"Are you surprised by my suggestion?"
I nod.
"I love the suggestion you gave and I know Mrs Randal would be more amiable to you, because of your position…"
"My position?" I ask, puzzled.
"Your current status in the society. A Tenshaw." He reveals, quietly.
I nod in understanding. Dumbfounded that the man wants to use me to get his own task done. I feel irritated that the man intends to use me as a pawn.
"Sir, I'm my own person. My husband's standing in the society doesn't determine who I am," I sternly say, fuming that the man is as misconceived about Malachi as I once was.
He regards me silently, a smile tugging his lips.
"If there is something I've learned from life, is that we should always use the chance we have. Not everyone is fortunate to have opportunities to make a life for themselves." He smiles and lowers his eyes.
"Think about what I've said, Melanie. I have already discussed with Rolle, your superior officer. You would attend to the Randals case. I've asked Carter to hand the file over to you."
He walks ahead, leaving me alone to my thoughts. When I first got married to Malachi, I regarded him with utmost respect. Found him noble. A symbol of humanity's redemption.
Now that I've seen what he's capable of, I only regret approaching him that morning to suggest this madness. Am terrified of him.
I wish mum was here. She would have been able to rescue my heart. Tell me what to do. But she isn't. Am alone in this world. Even the one who had promised to be my family, turns out to be dreadful.
Since that day I wanted to leave him, he has tripled security on me. I don't know how he read my intent. And now I can't even go to the grocery store alone. Three guards accompany me at every turn. My movements limited.
"Hey honey. I heard you are to handle the Randals' case." Joanna comes into my office, grinning slyly.
I try to be happy. Too much on my mind. I need to go for a drive to clear my head, but there's no need, because I will be having three guards following me. I need my privacy.
"I heard of the party, sadly am not invited. None of us here is." Joanna pouts.
I know it's an exclusive party for only friends of the Tenshaws. However, am not even interested.
Joanna picks up her phone and gasps. I look at her, questioningly. She looks alarmed.
"What is it?" I ask, concerned.
She hesitates, before she slowly turns the phone to me. It's a picture of my husband sitting with a stunning woman in a fancy gathering, like a dinner party. They stare at each other with such adulation. The heading on the photo reads;
A wonderful Celebratory shot. Malachi Tenshaw with Jane Billy; creator of the new Satellite program. Well done both of you!!
An unidentifiable, alien feeling rears its ugly claws in my chest.