My Little Step Secret

The past follows

Why was he here? Frankie didn't understand, he told her he was going to travel with his wife, that they were going to give their marriage another chance. Even through her pain, Frankie accepted this. She had always been fond of Marcia Gilmour. Marcia had always treated her well since she was a little girl. Frankie could remember times when Marcia would take the time to do her hair for her and paint her nails. She was one of the only woman figures in Frankie's life. Frankie had felt so guilty when she started to develop feelings for Bradley. If it wasn't for Bradley telling her all the awful things Marcia had done to hurt him and how they were going through a divorce, Frankie would never have let herself get so attached. It wasn't cheating, as they had already broken up due to Marcia's own affairs. "Wow, you look stunning Frankie." Bradley took a step back to admire her, his face showing he was visually enjoying her. He leaned in closer, whispering into her ear "I can't wait to see it on my floor..." The skin on her neck was covered in goosebumps where his breath stroked. Less than a week ago, this man told her it was over. She cried, she wallowed, then she decided to go home and leave him behind. It was her time to heal, and there he was acting as if nothing had changed. This set a fire off in Frankie, enraged at his blatant disregard for her emotions. "What are you doing here Bradley?" She hissed at him, instantly smiling for the crowd of people watching her, she was used to putting on a performance. She would die before allowing her father to discover what had occurred between them. Ignoring her question, he leaned in once more, inhaling her scent. "Oh, how I have missed you, sweetheart." He purred, the smell of liquor heavy on his breath. Normally, this would have had Frankie melting, but not this time. This time he felt slimy. It was the first time he made her feel dirty. She smiled not of kindness but of understanding whilst nodding her head, she felt a fool. Without uttering another word, with her head held high, she made her way to her seat, leaving him behind. "Not tonight", she thought.

As expected, she read the place cards, her table consisted of her father, Portia, Bradley - she suddenly developed nausea at the thought of being in his company for the entire evening meal; herself, Anna Lockwood, Xavier Meyers, Zachary Meyers, Zoe Weston. She had no idea who half of these people were, especially as the seats were still vacant. The surnames on the cards suggest at least two of them were a relative of Portia. Frankie took her seat, shortly followed by her father and her soon-to-be stepmother. Alistair was overjoyed as Bradley approached the table, his ego had always been attractive to Frankie, the way he acted like the most important person in the room, and he noticed her. With a fake smile plastered on her face, she watched as her father greeted his best friend and introduced him to his wife-to-be. The exchange felt uncomfortable as Portia seemed to temporarily forget how to speak, Bradley had that effect on people. Portia's eyes lit up as a young couple took their seats. They were a good-looking couple, their good looks complimented each other well. Portia stood to greet the man, kissing his cheek, leaving a lipstick stain, and giving the young lady a hug and a warm smile. "Everyone, Alistair, I would like to introduce my youngest son, Zachary, and his lovely date, Zoe Weston." Portia beamed with pride at her youngest child. He was around 6 feet tall. Frankie would have guessed they were both in their early to mid-20s. He had blonde curly hair, a few shades darker than his mother's. This could be due to her highlights. Zoe's hair was ebony black and as straight as could be, a few inches longer than shoulder length, her skin a sun-kissed tan. She remained rather quiet during the evening, mostly conversing only with Zachary in whispers and giggles.

The seats beside her sat empty even as the waiters brought out the first course, goat's cheese stuffed figs with a walnut crumb and a honey drizzle. It was one of Frankie's favourite foods yet she was struggling to enjoy it due to the ever-growing nausea of being sat beside Bradley, as he exaggerated his moaning at the delightful tastes the food brought. Deciding to pay him no attention in the hopes he would disappear was Frankie's plan. "Tell me how my little girl is doing at college Brad, she's working hard, I hope?" The pit in her stomach was becoming a black hole, sucking all the positivity out of her body. She prayed he wouldn't give it away. Was it written on her face what had transpired between them? She felt under a microscope. "She's been working extremely hard, all of her professors are pleased with the enthusiasm she's been showing, none more than myself. He placed his hand on her thigh, squeezing it gently. To anyone looking on it would look like nothing more than an encouraging gesture, but Frankie knew better, he was taunting her, playing with her right under her father's nose. It gave him a kick. Refusing to speak, not trusting her voice not to shake, she placed the last of her figs into her mouth, smiling pleasantly, all while adjusting her seat, in an attempt to remove Bradley's hand from her.

"Tell me who do you and Alistair know one another?" Portia stutters slightly, swallowing the last of her own plate. Frankie couldn't help but wonder how long they had been together, as they seemed to know very little about one another.

Bradley and Alistair battered back and forth explaining how they had been friends since college, keeping the table entertained. Frankie knew the story already, she had heard it enough times. She could retell it word for word herself. The waiters collected the plates, preparing for the next course, watching them work was the most peace Frankie had found since Bradley arrived. That's when she spotted him. Over six feet tall, his suit a deep navy blue, almost black, a face that she assumed only the gods were blessed with. He may be the most gorgeous man she had ever set eyes on, and he was walking towards her. His confidence was like an aura surrounding him, drawing people in. He walked with power, he owned the room. Frankie felt her body react to him, an ache growing within her, a perfect distraction.

He walked straight past her not looking once. "Hello Mother," he said, kissing Portia on the cheek.