The door swung open the moment Leonard's words fell, as if the person outside had been eagerly waiting for permission to enter.
Melisa instinctively looked up, though she had already recognized the voice. She knew exactly who it was.
Ivonne stepped inside, exuding confidence with every stride. She wore a crisp white blouse tucked into a black micro-mini tube skirt that accentuated her long, smooth legs. Her wavy brown hair cascaded down her shoulders, adding to her youthful and alluring appearance.
Her gaze flickered to Melisa, sharp with jealousy and barely concealed fury.
But Melisa met her eyes without hesitation—calm, unshaken, and with maybe a little amusement, much like a spectator watching a monkey's performance.
Here's an improved version of your passage with smoother flow and better clarity:
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