UNREPENTANT

Valencia smiled pleasantly and suddenly felt incredibly exposed in front of a woman she admired a great deal despite not knowing her very well. Granted, compared to many, Val’s bathing suit covered quite a bit, but she still had some regret about coming considering other faces she’d seen in attendance. “I honestly came to keep an eye on my boss,” Val joked, pursing her lips slightly when she realized her words could easily fall flat. “A lot of PA’s in business and politics know each other and I just sort of ended up here. It’s fun, just exhausting after the day I’ve had. Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Did you?” Melissa questioned as her gaze turned to search the room for a stocky man in a mermaid shell bra. “And you let him out in that?” She nodded her head to his direction before she returned her attention to Valencia and broke into a smile, amused.

"You mean you still worked on New Year’s Eve?" She lifted a brow, curious as to what a politician's PA could still do at this time of the year. Not that Melissa didn't respect the work ethic when she herself was technically on call at that very moment.

" It's not my kind of party anymore, but I have a drink, a view --" Melissa stared out at at the debauchery before her and feigned a grimace, "I'm swell. The Rutherfords are old friends. I'm here to support Damon and the rest of his siblings."

“I didn’t expect to see you here, then again Damon’s events tend to draw in a significant crowd,”  Melissa spoke up as soon as she recognized who had suddenly entered her bubble amid the figurative and perhaps literal cesspool. “Enjoying yourself?”

Damon: NYE party at the Empire's Saints & Sinners club.

Damon: RUTHERFORD ONLY.

Damon: Event details later, but it's gonna be a WILD night;)

Damon: 5 Shots at the door is a requirement.

Damon: Tequila shots... NOT gunshots. Felt like I needed to specify.

Melissa: Stop adding me back to this chat.

Melissa was all smiles when Adrian opened the door. It was unlikely he had expected her arrival, which really only added to her amusement.

It started as a joke -- bold words made in the midst of sparring that was supposed to mean little after a victor was called. Yet, his offer to crash a holiday party together made one thing rather clear -- that Adrian spent his holidays alone, and not necessarily by choice. Melissa could relate to that, even if she had outgrown the allure of the holidays as a time you spent with loved ones.

It helped to have so few.

"You didn't think I'd forget, did you?" she greeted.

Zhanna couldn’t help herself from scoffing and shook her head. “Noble is an overstatement, honestly, but I hope you remember Sveta and I don’t play childish games. She is the rule.”

As discretely as she could, Zhanna sized the woman up and gave an almost imperceptible nod. “You’re an honest woman, then?”

Despite Zhanna’s insistence, Melissa did remember the actions of their colleagues, particularly Maksim Kurylenko and his unscheduled debut in Lara’s fight club. Even if Svetlana inspired order and professionalism amongst their group, it was deviants like him that added unpredictability. And Melissa didn’t like that. “I will take note,” Melissa simply said, not looking to make any more arguments as they stood outside. 

She would, however, stick to her word and take note. And should there be any lapses, she would be sure to remember who to hold accountable.

Melissa smiled with amusement at Zhanna’s query. "We both know there’s no such thing.”

“This was a nice chat, Ms. Medvedeva‌. You can smoke that cigarette now.”

“You’re simply envious of my radiating charisma,” Adrian let out an exasperated sigh, “I’ll say this though, great minds do think alike,” he added, highlighting the fact that both of them had chosen editors of respected London publications as their dates. “Wink if you want to swap, at any point,” he added, sincerely doubting whether or not Melissa’s ever-present stone-cold expression was capable of morphing into a wink.

"Of course I am," Melissa said softly. She placed a hand on his bicep before patting it softly, "Whatever makes you get up in the morning." The innocent smile on her face quickly turned mischievous, but it was all in good jest. Her eyes quickly scanned the room to spot Peter as well as Felicity, and Melissa couldn't help but be amused by the coincidence Adrian noted. "Felicity can be rather entertaining after a few drinks. I'll reconsider your offer after an hour, maybe."

yourstruly-rachael‌:

It was no secret that Rachael had always valued the safety of her workers, and after the recent events, Rachael knew that she would be wise to up their security. When they were at work, the girls were her responsibility, and she took every precaution she could to ensure that they made it back to their homes safely. “What did you have in mind?” Rachael asked carefully. As long as Melissa suggested something legitimate, Rachael would consider it. If it had any ties to the Rutherfords…

“What can I say? Things have been busy,” she casually shrugged. Hopefully Melissa bought the lie.

And just like that, it was Melissa’s move. Would it have been wise to make an proposal outright? Rachael seemed desperate enough. Useful. But this was also a woman who had been scorned by not one, but two men very closely associated with Melissa. Dangerous. How much did she really know about Rachael? How much did Rachael know about her? It was too soon to tell. “Nothing concrete just yet. Your predicament isn’t unique, but the solution isn’t exactly one-size fits all.” Melissa folded, not keen to make any sudden moves. Patience. 

“Let’s discuss it another time. Perhaps over tea. Hopefully without a view of Captain Hook and a Playboy bunny a zipper away from needing a room.” She slyly pointed to the couple at Rachael’s four o’clock. “How does next week sound?”

“Sure you don’t.”

“Nicer than nice,” she assured the woman. “If not for Sveta, Yvonne might’ve ended up with more than just her dress ruined.” She couldn’t quite hide it - it was annoying the way everyone thought the Russians ruined everything they touched. Did any St. Claire or Rutherford ever consider they were the destructive and disgusting forces the Russians were just reacting to? “So, what is your act tonight, Melissa?”

"And it was very noble of her,” Melissa acknowledged the Vorshevsky’s intervention -- in a childish tiff between someone she had expected better from and an actual child. Quite literally an embarrassing stain to the evening, but nothing that could have started a real concern. “I hope she’s more of the rule rather than exception. Things would be much smoother between our groups, wouldn’t you agree?”

She kept her smile steady when Zhanna turned the question to Melissa. “If you can’t tell what it is, do I have one at all?”

@lin-melissa​

“Oh!” Val exclaimed, stopping short as she turned away from the bar with her fresh glass of water in hand and nearly bumped right into someone. “I’m sorry, I-” The familiar face immediately silenced her excuses and brought an unexpected, pleasant smile to her face. “Every time I see you I think I might never see you again, and we keep running into each other. How are you?”

This bitch was a centimeter away from getting kicked out of this party.

“It’s fine,” Melissa said calmly after narrowly avoiding the woman and the drink she had in hand. Before Melissa could walk away from the almost-accident and continue making her way towards the former mayor’s daughter, the other woman started up a conversation which unfortunately needed Melissa’s attention. 

She didn’t need a moment to recognize the woman, whose face value shot up with the recent charity event. “London, you’d be surprised, is a very small world. Valencia Flores, lovely to see you again.” Melissa matched the smile presented to her. “I’ve been well, thank you,” she kept it curt, not interested in being the point of the conversation. “I didn’t get a chance to congratulate you for hosting the For the Children Charity event, by the way. It certainly wasn’t like any of its predecessors. Will we be seeing any more of you soon?”

To his surprise, it might’ve been the first interruption all night that didn’t make him want to punch the person responsible in the fucking jaw.

“Thought I saw you here, you smarmy fuck.”

“You don’t write, you don’t call…” Spencer said in mock accusation, leaning back in his seat, and looking up at his former colleague. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he kicked the seat out for him to take. “More pressingly: How the fuck did you manage to bag a date like that? Have you done some growing as a person since I bailed?”

"Needed a double take, too, when I saw you escorting Princess Sophie.”

Had it been anyone else, Peter wouldn't have humored being called a smarmy fuck. Coming from Spencer however, it was welcomed with amusement. The ex-wife hadn't changed one bit. 

"I send flowers and chocolate. Pippa and Val must know those weren’t for them, right?" he joked back as he took the offered seat -- not taken despite initially warned. Spencer's apparent astonishment at Peter's date was met with a laugh and a shake of the head. "Good to know your faith in me hasn’t wavered,” Peter commented sarcastically before answering more seriously, “Met her back when I was still at the BBC, kept in touch since. She’s been with the Rutherfords for a long time, I believe.”

“Thank you. I wasn’t certain it would fit the theme, but looking at what other people are wearing it seems to be in line with it. I like yours too.” Azra knew it was important to play nice with someone as influential as Melissa. “I am, actually. His hand didn’t ‘accidentally’ slip to my ass once.” If she was being honest she hadn’t expected much when Melissa asked her to accompany an American business associate of hers to the event. Finding out he was Turkish as well was part of the reason she agreed, another part was that he was in his thirties and not some creepy old man. Maybe there was information and a American connection she could get out of this. Of course she was not dumb enough to let her walls down, but the conversation had been enjoyable so far. He was less boring than she expected from the research she did on him and his business. “He told me about how he started his firm and it’s quite impressive.”

"Events like these are kinder to women’s attire than men’s, if you haven’t learned already. We’d be having a much different conversation if you came in something short or in pants however.” The Turkish drug dealer, thankfully, cleaned up nicely, and Melissa intended to use that to her advantage in the future. “Thank you, it’s expensive,” she smiled at the compliment on her own attire.

“That’s good. A man who matches his reputation then.” As pleased as Melissa seemed to appear, she was a little disappointed that Ferit had yet to disappoint. One less thing to have over his head.  “It’s a great story. His father may have made a name for his family back in Turkey with their shipyard, but Mr. Kurtaş was the one who made a mark beyond it.”

“Rumor has it though he’s starting a new venture. Has he made any mention of it?”

Surely the world would implode if one would use ‘Melissa Lin’ and ‘sentimental’ in one sentence, but there was an exception to every rule. The fact that Cerys was that exception, after many years still, had been yet another proof of how amazing the woman was. 

It hadn’t really occurred to Damon until now, with Cerys’ death, Melissa, too, has suffered a loss. A loss of a friend.

“Thank you,” he said gently. “I can’t help but spend all day think about what if…” Damon blurted out, not knowing what to expect confiding his emotions to a woman who was anything but emotional. Maybe that was the whole point.

Cerys always did spend a little more time with Damon, and it very much showed.

"Best not,” Melissa filled in the silence that followed after Damon failed to continue his train of thought. Perhaps it was not the kindest of advice, but it was one he needed to hear. One she had to learn by herself when she was in a similar place. “It’s one thing to look back, and another to linger in the past. The latter doesn’t and can’t change anything. It just keeps you from moving forward.”