Chapter 273
Melody placed the file back on the desk carfefully before picking up the catalogue and checking. And yet, her hands trembled just as the footsteps approached, making her sit straighter as her mother returned.
Marianne Thomas reappeared with two cups and set one in front of her as she walked around the desk to her chair.Here. Black. No sugar. Just like you like it when you’re brooding. So, you want to tell me what put you in such a bad mood?
Melody didn’t smile or answer directly. Instead, she looked up, the catalogue still open in her lap and asked, “Are you planning to hire an interior designer?”
Marianne raised an eyebrow as she settled into her own chair and took a sip. “What makes you say that?”
Melody lifted the catalogue slightly. “This doesn’t exactly look like something you picked up randomly. And you said you were refurnishing. Are you working with someone? Did someone recommend this place to you?”
Her mother leaned back and took anoter slow sip of coffee. “No. I haven’t hired anyone yet. And I will not be hiring a designer. But I do hope to work with someone from LuxeArt here. I like their pieces. Don’t you think they are unique? I mean they look modern and minimalistic but not lifeless like those in magazines. But I have not spoken to anyone about it yet?”
“Yet?” Melody narrowed her eyes. “So you’ve thought about it.”
Marianne smiled faintly. “Of course I’ve thought about it. I’m not going to magically develop a liking for all this. But I haven’t made a decision. Why?”
Melody tilted the catalogue just enough for the name to catch the light. “Because this,” she said slowly, “is owned by Melanie Collins.”
There was a flicker—brief but undeniable—in her mother’s expression. Not shock exactly. Not guilt either. Just… calculation. And then it was gone.
“So?” Marianne said, setting her cup down. “She’s talented. Her firm’s doing well. The pieces speak for themselves.”
Melody set the catalogue aside, and asked in a cool voice, “I didn’t know you were in touch with her.”
“I’m not,” Marianne replied calmly. “Not directly. I reached out to LuxeArt. She didn’t answer herself, obviously. I dealt with someone from the team.”
Melody folded her arms and questioned him carefully,” Then you’ve never met Melanie Collins?”
This time Marianne hesitated. She had not expected such a hostile reaction at the name of Melanie Collins. Melody had been okay when talking about her, so why did she detect this hostile undercurrent suddenly?
Carefully, she set her cup down and questioned Melody carefully,” Why the sudden interest?”
Melody rolled her eyes at the deflection but chose to respond anyway. “I’m acquainted with her. In fact, I met her just this afternoon—and she’s the reason I’m in such a foul mood. So, if you want my advice? Don’t work with her.”
Marianne raised an eyebrow. “You had an argument with her? Over what?”
Melody let out a sharp scoff, clearly irritated by the probing. “Come on, Mom. Does it even matter? I’ve had fallings-out with people before. And every other time I told you not to work with someone, you didn’t ask for a full report. You just agreed. So why is this time different? Isn’t it because Melanie looks exactly like me?”
Marianne took a deep breath, steadying herself before fixing her gaze on Melody. “You knew she looked like you,” she said evenly. “But I don’t think that’s the real issue here. Yes, you’ve had fallings-out before, and it’s true—I usually sided with you without asking too many questions. But you were younger then. Less experienced. More impulsive. Now, you’re older, and I’d like to believe, more measured and understanding. So tell me, what could have possibly made you so firmly against her?”
Melody’s hands curled into fists in her lap, her nails pressing into her palms. How was she supposed to explain that her biggest issue with Melanie had nothing to do with anything Melanie had done directly- but everything to do with Adam? That it gnawed at her that the man she liked, the man she had spent countless hours thinking about, was married to a woman who looked uncannily like her?
It wasn’t rational. It wasn’t fair.
And yet, every time she saw Melanie-or even just thought about her-what came rushing in wasn’t calm or logic. It was jealousy. Unreasonable, relentless jealousy. The kind that tightened her chest and made her feel like she was losing something she never truly had.
The entire thing was baseless. Illogical. And yet, painfully real to her.
How does it even matter, Mother?” Melody asked, her voice tight with frustration. “Just trust me on this, please. Can you not work with Melanie? I’ll help you find other options. I’ll even look up a few great places for you to explore—places with quality furniture and reliable service. What do you say to that? Wouldn’t that be better?”
But Marianne shook her head firmly, her tone calm but resolute. “No, Melody. I’ve already done my research, and I liked what I saw. LuxeArt has a great portfolio. And more importantly, I’ve met Melanie Collins in person. Yes, she resembles you a little, but that’s where the similarity ends. Her style, her presence, her way of carrying herself—it’s completely different from yours. I appreciate your concern, but I’m not going to change my mind. I like the direction she’s taken LuxeArt, and I trust her to help with the redesign. So it’s decided.”
Melody shot to her feet, the chair scraping back against the floor. “Really?” she snapped, her eyes blazing. “So you want to work with her on a professional level? That’s it? Strictly business?”
Marianne blinked at the sudden outburst but didn’t interrupt.
“Then tell me something,” Melody continued, voice rising, “why have you been digging into her background? Why are you trying to find out who raised her? Who she’s with? What she does?” Her eyes narrowed as she remembered the seeminly useless questions about ’the woman who looked like her’, the previous time they had met…