Page 95 of Save the Drama for your Mama
The attendees emitted gasps.
“I must know the reason for your displeasure,” Miss Melody said with restrained urgency.
“My affections are engaged by him!” Miss Lucinda cried shrilly. “Why, his vigorously manly form stirs my maidenly passions most severely, in particular the granite-like rigidity of his abdominal musculatures.”
“Nay!” cried Miss Elizabeth Bennett, rising in righteous indignation. “For Mr. Darcy has informed me in no uncertain terms that I no longer bewitch him body and soul! He has cast me most cruelly into the friend zone! I confess, Mr. Cooper’s prodigious wealth and vast property are qualities I find most agreeable in a match. Show me the money, honey!”
My countenance darkened with indignation. “My suspicions are confirmed! You are a gold digger!”
Miss Elizabeth looked upon me in confusion. “I beg your pardon, sir, but I am not acquainted with that peculiar term.”
Miss Lucinda chimed in, “Nor I, dear sir! Pray enlighten us as to its meaning!”
“Silence, you brazen hussies!” Miss Renée Zellweger also stood and clasped her hands to her heaving bosom and declared, “Good sir, pay no heed to the wiles of these common trollops! I pray you observe the tremulous motions of my lower lip, which surely portend the depth and sincerity of my affections for thee! You complete me utterly! I cannot bear to see you wed another!”
With furious cries, the ladies descended into fisticuffs and mud wrestling, grappling fiercely for my hand as I stood there bewildered. During the melee, I espied the parson scribbling furiously with quill to parchment.
“Sir!” I exclaimed. “Whatever are you about in the midst of these proceedings?”
“Why, documenting these events, of course!” replied the parson enthusiastically. “For I do declare this shall make a ripping good novel!”
I awoke from my nap, shaking my head in amusement at another silly dream in the Regency-era setting. Talk about a jalapeño-induced fugue from a breakfast burrito! Melody would surely get a kick out of it when I told her about it.
Glancing out the window of the train, I smiled, thinking about how amazing my day had been. I’d signed a huge contract for the adaptations of my mom’s books. I’d also finished reading Melody’s fantastic novel that I just knew would be a bestseller in the future. Yes, the reading had cut into my planned writing time, but I was confident I could still finish my book within a few days.
Everything in my life seemed to be going smoothly, just like the train I was riding. And considering the way I was feeling, I wouldn’t be surprised if Melody and I took our relationship to the next level soon, just like in the dream. Our weekend getaway coming up would be the perfect test. I couldn’t wait to see her beautiful face when I arrived home.
I yawned, took a sip of my water, then checked my phone for messages. Too bad my battery had died, and I didn’t have my charger with me.
It didn’t matter. This was just about the best day of my life, and nothing could ruin it. The train was pulling up to the station and I would be home soon enough.
After the drive from the train station to Coronado, I walked through the front door and was immediately greeted by Romeo.
“Hey there, buddy!” I said, giving him a good scratch behind the ears.
The rest of the house was quiet.
“Hello?” I called out, plugging my phone into the charger, and hearing several notifications after it powered up.
But where was Melody?
I grinned when I had a feeling of her whereabouts. She was in her happy place. Climbing the stairs to the attic, I entered with Romeo, then stopped and looked around.
To my dismay, Melody wasn’t there.
I was about to turn around and go back downstairs when I saw my mom’s open diary on the table, with the engagement ring sitting on top of it.
I blinked a few times, staring at them.
I had a strange sense of foreboding—I just couldn’t imagine why.
I moved closer, picked up the ring to inspect it, then glanced down at the diary page that was open. My pulse banged in my temple as I read the entry, my mom voicing her concerns, saying I had a habit of whisking women away for weekends, only to promptly dump them when we got home.
Melody had read that.
Right after I’d asked her to go away with me.
“No, no, no,” I muttered, then sprinted downstairs, Romeo on my heels barking anxiously. I had to do something, anything, to make this right.
