My Little Step Secret

Rose tinted glasses

The room was still dark when Frankie woke. Sunlight trying its best to creep into the room through the small cracks of the blackout blinds. Yawning, she stretched out her naked body, waking her sleeping muscles. Dressing last night had felt pointless. As she had not unpacked it would have involved her having to dig through luggage to locate some pajamas, Frankie just couldn't seem to make the effort worth it. That was what door locks were for. The coffee-stained towel lay in a heap on the hotel floor. Her skin still lingered with a slight aroma of coffee. A delicate smile laced her face as she thought back. Once more, she headed into the shower to wash and ready herself for the day. Her father had strict rules about hygiene when she was growing up. If she had not been clean and fresh, he would have her shamefully marched back to her room, as many times as she took, until she was. This had not been a problem until puberty, when the dreaded BO snuck up on her to join the party. Frankie had not been aware of the change herself, but after enough embarrassing treks back through the mansion, it became a habit to wash before dressing.

She settled on her favourite clothes; dark denim jeans, a gray t-shirt, and old, but clean, black pumps. Simple. The room around her was in disarray, with bedsheets crumpled, yesterday's soiled clothes strewn in several piles, makeup left unorganized by the sink, and hotel towels in every direction. She made swift work of squaring up. It didn't need to be perfect. The housekeepers would fix it. There was no way she could complete the job to the level the professionals could, but she didn't want to come across as an uncivilized slob. Prior to clearing the makeup away, she applied some to her clean face. A small touch of makeup, nothing extravagant. Subtle copper shadow and a flicked eyeliner to bring out the green in her eyes, a lick of mascara and blush, nothing heavy. Her hair was pulled into a loose braid, it looked pretty while not trying too hard. The less time it took to sort out, the happier Frankie was.

Sticking out from under her pillow was an unfamiliar piece of cloth. It certainly didn't belong to the bedspread. Investigating the foreign object, Frankie pulled, unearthing it. Xaviers hankcherchief. Her stomach filled with one thousand butterflies as she remembered him. A demure smile touched her lips. She had fallen asleep holding it as if it were a child's comfort blanket. It was obvious to Frankie she had been seeing him through champagne rose-tinted glasses. An alcohol-crazed crush.

It was settled, she would take the cloth home with her, and have it washed and pressed before returning it to him. Once it was back with its rightful owner, these feelings would dissipate. As they should. He was her stepbrother. She was being ridiculous. After today she would leave. She could see the disappointment on her father's face already. There was no use worrying about it, it was something she needed to do. There was no way she could stick around with Bradley here. Being the best man, he would be around all the time to assist with the wedding plans. No, that wasn't an option. She would come up with a believable reason. Perhaps he will tell him her professor lost an important piece of work and she needs to rush back to complete it, or that her friend is having a crisis and needed her desperately. Whatever story she went with, the end result was the same. She was leaving.

Her relationship with Bradley had been a fleeting one. For her at least. He had pursued her from the first week, slow gestures first, less than obvious flirting. Frankie had given in to him until recently, not long before her 19th birthday. They were together for just shy of two months when he broke it off. He came to her full of sorrow, his wife had apologised for everything, the affairs, walking out, everything, promising she would do whatever it took to make things right. He told her she "would always be his princess", but he had no choice. He had to try. The breakup was hard on both of them, all of their plans for the future vanished in a blink. Frankie understood, it hurt her, of course, after everything, but she got it. So she couldn't understand what was happening. Something had changed between them, it wasn't the pain of the breakup. It was something else. Before, he had been so kind and caring, always wanting to see her, calling her at all hours to check in. How was she? Where was she? What was she doing? Who was she with? He had so much time for her and showed an interest in all parts of her life. This was different. He was different. He was playing with her, taunting her - she had never seen that side of him. Now she had, it wasn't one she was fond of.

No. It was decided she would head back to college and spend the break with her friends. She just had to find a way to break it to her father. Grabbing her bag from the previous night, she checked her phone. 5 texts, 2 missed calls, and the time 8:15 am. Crap! If she was late for breakfast, her father would not be impressed. On the days her father was displeased with her, he would avoid breakfast the next day. He never outright said it but she knew. He would tell her he had to work, or he wasn't hungry, or that she needed to leave early for school today. If they didn't eat together, she knew she had disappointed him. She would check the texts when she got there. She was already late. Panicking, she grabbed her old brown leather jacket. It was well worn but she refused to replace it. In her opinion, it looked better this way.

Her hopes of getting out of the hotel without being delayed were short-lived as she immediately bumped directly into Xavier, coming to an abrupt stop due to how she was almost running.

"Is the suite on fire?" He questioned, raising his eyebrows as he did. He was just as handsome as last night, Frankie cursed silently to herself. He stood tall, wearing a new suit, navy blue with a very subtle pinstripe, his crisp white shirt button only 3 quarters of the way up, exposing his well-defined chest. "What?" Frankie stammered, had no idea what he meant. The only thing on fire now was him, and possibly her from being near him. She sniffed at the air. Could he smell smoke?

"You're in such a rush. I can only assume your life is in danger." He sounded serious but the way his face softened made Frankie realise he was joking. There was a darkness to him, so much so Frankie found herself caught off guard by his softness. "Oh, no. Sorry. I am late for breakfast, my father will probably call a search party if I don't get there soon. Are you not coming?" She tried to make jest of the situation but her chest was heaving with anxiety.

"I'm afraid you may be the one sending for a search party, Francine."

"I'm sorry?" Frankie couldn't keep up.

"I am assuming nobody has mentioned it but your father isn't in the city today." She could hear the pity in his voice. Her father always told her when he was unable to meet, the news did not sit well with her.

"Oh. No, nobody told me." She felt disheartened. Why did he not tell her? Was she suddenly less important now? "And it's Frankie." Xavier tilted his head. "My name... Frankie, just Frankie."

"Frankie." The name sounded like a purr coming from his mouth. The sound made Frankie stop and pay attention to him. It definitely was not the champagne. Her stomach was on a spin cycle as she looked at him. He was dressed but in an undone way, Frankie sucked in, biting her bottom lip as if biting it would make the feeling dissolve. He stared intently into her own eyes. Frankie was sure his gorgeous blue eyes had some sort of hypnosis on her. She couldn't look away. She didn't want to.

"Are you hungry?" His voice was husky. Frankie was hungry, she was starving, and in front of her stood the meal of a lifetime. She nodded cautiously.

"Let's go." He told her emphatically, and she didn't argue, she would do anything he asked of her at that moment- anything.