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“Maple Leaf Diner,” she explains. “I usually cooked in the morning and waited tables at night, but sometimes, I’d switch it up and do the opposite.”
I struggle with what she’s saying, imagining this sweet girl working hours upon hours in a greasy, rag-tag diner. “You worked both shifts?”
“Well, yes…” I watch Melody look around the dining room and the impressive spread of food, and it’s like she remembers where she is and who I am all at once. It crushes her. “I can’t believe I’m sitting here telling Malcolm Mayfield that I work in a greasy spoon and eat ramen for dinner.”
The sunshine is coming through the tall windows, and it sparkles in her hair and her eyes, which are now full of embarrassment. I hate seeing it, and I won’t tolerate it. Not for a fucking minute.
“You’re quitting the diner, and you’re not eating fucking ramen anymore, Melody. You’ll stay here with me and find something that you like to do. School, whatever. But you’re not going to bow and scrape for another damned day, do you hear me?”
Her eyes go as wide as saucers, her pretty pink mouth opening in a surprised O. “What…what in the world do you mean? I’m not even with–”
I cut her off. “I don’t give a fuck about Adam, either. You aren’t with him, you are with me.” When I see her flinch, I quickly add, “You’re my guest, and as such, I want you to have everything you need to thrive. Everything, anything, Melody. So quit the damned diner. Today.”
Melody is in complete shock, and I can’t help but feel a little bit of satisfaction at how easily I can change everything for her. I take care of what is mine, in every way, shape, and form.
She will never want for a single thing ever again, she just doesn’t know it yet. She’ll see that she belongs to me soon enough, though, but I hope at that point, she’ll have grown to love her silk bindings.
Shit. Now I’m thinking about her tied to my bed, silk ropes around her small wrists and attached to the headboard. Naked, and that pretty flush spreading over her entire body…fuck. So much for not being hard during breakfast.
“I…” Melody takes a drink of her orange juice, puckering her lips at how tart it is. I want to kiss her so damn bad. “I need that job for when I get my own place, though.”
“Melody…” I grumble. “Don’t argue with me. Quit the job and spend the afternoon looking at online classes or whatever else you’d like to do. Price is not a concern.” There’s an orange, irresistible drop on her bottom lip, and I reach out to swipe it off, licking the drop from my thumb afterward and making her suck in a sharp breath. “There’s a solar on the second floor that is nice to work in. I’ll have a laptop sent up for you.”
“Why are you doing this?” Melody’s voice is so small that it makes my chest tight.
“Because the world made a big fucking mistake by putting you in such a hard spot, so I’m correcting it.”
“Oh…” She pushes a strawberry around her plate. “It wasn’t the world, exactly. I didn’t really want to tell you this because it’s sort of humiliating, but…I got kicked out of my apartment because my own mom stole all of my rent money. For gambling and booze. She’s…an addict. It isn’t her fault, but on the other hand, it is, so…” Melody shrugs, a world of hurt on her pretty face. “I tried to support us both and failed. So quitting the diner also means giving up on saving her, and that’s…well….it’s really hard for me, you know? She’s still my mom.”
I thought seeing Adam forcing himself on Melody was the angriest I’d ever been, but hearing what she’s telling me right now, I reach an entirely different level. And the worst part is I can’t let it show because I don’t want to scare her when she’s telling me something so vulnerable.
In her body language and the way she’s looking down at her plate, I can tell that it’s taking a lot out of her to admit these things. So even though I want to tear the world apart over what she’s telling me, I won’t. I can’t.
This poor girl has never been nurtured, has never been loved in any sort of way where she could just relax and live her life. From what she’s telling me, it sounds like she’s been working herself to the bone at just twenty years old to support herself and her mother, and got nothing for it except fucked over and stolen from.
Melody has never felt secure, has never felt safe. And that changes today. Right fucking now.
I’m already making plans in my mind, mental notes to find the best rehab facilities around. After that, an apartment for her mother far away from Melody so she can heal from the trauma of being fucked over by the one person who should always be there for their children.
None of this is going to be told to Melody yet because I’m still skirting that line of drawing her closer to me without scaring her away, but I know that she will never be able to truly let herself enjoy her life here with me if she knows her mother is still out there suffering. Even if her mother sounds manipulative.
I’ve paid for worse things than rehab and an apartment for someone, though, and it’s for a good cause. Not to help Melody’s mother—that’s a cause I don’t give a damn about—but to help her. Sweet, innocent Melody.
I realize that minutes have passed since her declaration, and she’s all but shut down because I’ve taken so long to answer. My hand shoots out and grabs her chin between my thumb and forefinger, and I make her look at me, her gorgeous eyes shining.
“Listen to me right now. That life of yours is over. Don’t argue, don’t tell me it isn’t necessary. Melody, do I look like a man who gives up on something he wants?”
Color rises in her cheeks again as she shakes her head. “N-no…”
“Correct. And right now, what I want is to change your life for the better. Do you think I get everything I want, when I want it, Melody? Do you think I have the resources, and the will, to make things happen?”
She nods. “Yeah. I do.”
“Then you know how pointless it would be to try and change my mind on this. Finish your breakfast, do whatever else it is that you need to do, and then head up to the solar.” I release her reluctantly, letting my hand slide down her soft cheek as I do so.
Melody is silent, but she turns back to her breakfast, just like she’s told. There’s a sheen of tears in her eyes, but I don’t mention it, figuring that it will just be another thing to embarrass her in an already humiliating morning for the poor girl.
But I still feel an intense satisfaction watching her eat, knowing that even something as small as this is nourishing her, body and soul, and I’ve been the one to provide it.
