‘I watched them both last night, and I am pretty sure she isn’t in on it.’ He thought back to last night, Melanie’s face rising before his eyes. She was even prettier than her photograph, he thought, annoyed with the way his blood leapt to life at the memory of her voice and smile. She wasn’t a movie star, not even close. She was a bit too thin and too pale for that. Her long dark hair could have benefited from a clever cut, and he could tell that she wasn’t a big makeup fan either. He thought of Daphne, with her endless line of jars, brushes, and little tubes occupying their bathroom in the days they still lived together. Compared to Melanie, his ex-fiancée certainly seemed like some exotic bird of paradise, exciting and aware of her power over men. Melanie Bennett didn’t even know she was pretty; he would bet his last dollar on that one. With her dark blue, simple sheath dress and low-heeled shoes, she could have been one of the thousands of girls working in the business district back home.
