My Little Step Secret

Always a surprise

Frankie's father and his new fiance swan through the crowd of adoring fans giving their congratulations as they made their way to her, as she stood gobsmacked by the announcement. This woman whose hand her father held, was to be her new stepmother, Frankie was unsure how she felt. Having recently suffered heartbreak, she had hoped coming home would be a chance to escape. With a wedding on the cards, her hope was dashed. The woman walking to meet her held herself with grace as she walked, like a gazelle. The dress she wore was stylish and modern, covering a single shoulder. Its snug fit helped to remove unwanted attention whilst still looking elegant. The dress was made of navy blue satin, its fit showing off her fabulous figure, likely bought in the hospital rather than earned in a gym, Frankie thought. The material came just below her knees, leaving her calves exposed. Just enough skin on show too, this woman. On top of her head, her multi-tonal blonde hair was professionally pinned into a low chignon, adding to her elegance. Her make-up was flawless, it was clear time had been invested into making her look the way she did, not like Frankie who pulled herself together in less than 20 minutes. By the time her father had reached her, Frankie had managed to stop gawking. "This is my incredibly intelligent daughter I have been telling you all about. Francine, this is Portia Meyers, your new stepmother." Alistair announced, as though it was a gift to her. Frankie was 19 years of age. She did not need a mother now. That was something she could have used as a child on the nights her father was too busy working. Portia held out her bangled arm to Frankie as a way of introduction. "It is a pleasure to meet you Francine, I have heard so much about you." Portia gushed, she seemed truly lovely but Frankie could not help but feel startled by it all. Frankie had been placed in unexpected situations her whole life, she had learned to adapt quickly. "I guess he was keeping you a surprise, as I had no clue. Please call me Frankie." Frankie smiled, as Portia seemed delighted with the interaction. Her father tugged on the hem of his tuxedo, thankfully his attention had already been adjusted and they moved on to their next target, allowing Frankie some time to collect herself.

Greeting the guests herself, as was expected of her, was another layer of exhaustion and the evening had barely begun. Claiming a glass of champagne as the waiters passed, Frankie sipped slowly. People were watching, they were always watching her here, she had to keep her wits. Not all the guests here are friends. She made her way to the rooftop terrace with her glass, excusing herself from the crowds to take a breath and compose herself. The view was something else. Being raised in a big city, you don't always appreciate the excitement of busy city life. She missed this while in college. The college is situated in what most would call a big city, but those people haven't been here. As she closes her eyes and inhales the evening air, all the familiar scents of the big city soothe her. She loved it here, away from all the drama, away from the heartache, a chance to heal. It was at that moment she had decided to spend the whole summer here, back home. Frankie pulled out her phone and began to text.

"Change of plans. I'm staying home for the summer. Why don't you two come visit? You can stay with us. x"

With that, she dropped her phone back into her bag. Returning to admiring the view. The host announces that dinner will be served in 15 minutes and asks the guests to kindly find their seats for then. Many of the guests move to find their seats, but Frankie is not concerned, knowing with confidence where she will be sitting, she takes the chance to have a few minutes of silent bliss. That thought is snatched from her as she sensed another presence nearing her, as they slid their hand across her own. Confused, she opens her eyes to reveal the man touching her. Her heart skips a beat and her stomach lurches simultaneously. What is he doing here? The man responsible for her heartache, the man she had hoped to forget by coming home for the summer, the man she left behind. He grinned at her, his whole attitude made her want to scream at him. He was the one who wanted to end things, so what was he doing there, touching her so blatantly in front of everyone? She pulled her hand away from his as smoothly as possible so as to not draw any unfavourable attention. Blinking back the tears she took him in, he was wearing his best black tuxedo, graying his hair gelled back stylishly, his blue eyes the color of a cloudy sky. This was the face of Bradley Gilmour, her lover, her ex, her professor, and her father's best friend.