Bad Girl Lessons by Seraphina Donavan, Wicked Muse Page A

“I hope you’re proud of yourself. The entire town is talking about you.”
    “My fiancee left me at the alter just a few days ago. They were talking about me anyway,” Evie responded. “Is there some reason you came here, mother? Other than to lecture me?”
    “I came because I was concerned for you,” Margaret responded coolly. “I understand that Trevor’s behavior was hurtful to you, but he’s told me how sorry he is. He wants to work things out with you, Evie, but if you continue this ridiculous affair with Jackson Cope, it will never happen!”
    Evie stood and walked to the window. She counted to ten before speaking. “Mother, I don’t want to work things out with Trevor. I don’t love him and I’m beginning to realize that I never did. Furthermore, if Trevor comes near me again I will press charges. He assaulted me yesterday, or did he forget to mention that?”
    Margaret waved her hand, “It was a simple misunderstanding!”
    Evie stripped off her cardigan, revealing the dark bruises around her upper arm. Margaret’s lips thinned in response, but she continued, “Well, he was upset, dear. Trevor was overset by all the things that have happened, but he would never truly hurt you.”
    “He already did hurt me, mother. We dated for five years and were engaged for two, and for that entire time, my life has been a misery of criticism from both you and him. I was never thin enough, never good enough and was always an embarrassment to you both. I don’t know why Trevor is so desperate to work things out when he could barely stand the sight of me to begin with!”
    “Constructive criticism--”
    Evie threw her hands up in the air and made a screeching noise. “No, Mother! There is nothing constructive about it! This isn’t a paper being graded...It’s me. The way I look, the way I speak, the way I dress, everything about me has literally been picked apart and I’m done!” she yelled. Gathering her composure, in a more even tone, she added, “If you can’t be supportive of my choices and happy for me then you can stay away.”
    Margaret rose, “You will regret this, Evie. Jackson may talk a pretty piece, but men like him never stick around. When he gets tired of you, and believe me, he will, you will be alone... Trevor won’t wait forever.”
    “Please leave.”
    Evie sank into her chair as Margaret’s footsteps receded down the hallway. It didn’t help that Margaret’s words had only reflected her own fear and insecurity, but then her mother had always been good at going for the weakest link to bring down the kill. There was a reason that Margaret Harper was at the top of the Gresham County social ladder. It wasn’t just because she was an amazing hostess. Others feared her and with good reason. Throughout her life, Evie had known that she never measured up. As a child, her clothes had always been rumpled, her hands dirty and her hair mussed. In her tween years, she’d begun to put on weight, and in adolescence had failed to shed it. No amount of dieting or exercise ever made her small enough for her mother’s standards.
    Pushing those thoughts aside, Evie decided to focus her energy and attention on something she could control. She pulled up her email and began working on the ad for the museum that would run in the back of a few magazines targeted at Southern readers. Their small museum, with its adjacent battlefield and antebellum home would not draw tourists from around the world. But it did have the potential to draw people for a weekend if they lived only a few hours away. It would be good for the town and good for the museum.
    Two hours later, with her eyes burning, she turned off the computer and rose from her desk. The ad was done. She would send it to her graphic artist that she normally used for such things and have it prettied up, but it was essentially done. With her purse in hand, Evie left the museum and crossed the street to the small, local bank. Stepping inside, she scanned