Watching all this, my best friend beside me couldn't hold her anger back anymore.
She grabbed my shoulder and shook it, furious that I wouldn't fight for myself.
"Cassandra Mercer, you can actually put up with this?"
"When in your whole life have you ever been treated like this?"
I calmly kept working my phone.
Karen was so worked up she looked ready to jump out of the car.
"Are you even listening to me? If you really marry Jonathan Dickerson, your whole life is ruined!"
I finished with my phone, finally lifted my head to look at her, and let a bright smile curve across my lips.
"Take these files. When we get to the hotel, hand them to the planner and tell them to change what gets played inside."
Karen froze for a second. Then her tight shoulders eased, and she squinted at me with a wicked little grin.
Twenty-some years of friendship, and she knew exactly what I meant.
The motorcade came to a stop at the hotel entrance.
Jonathan still hadn't remembered I existed. He circled around to the passenger side with all his attention and opened the door for Marianne.
As she stepped out, Marianne stumbled, and Jonathan rushed to catch her by the waist. The two of them exchanged a smile, an intimate, glaring little moment.
Karen forced the words out through clenched teeth.
"Cassie, from here on, you just watch me."
"That scummy man won't be smiling much longer."
Not letting anything show on my face, I gathered up my gown and walked into the hotel, then went to the suite to touch up my makeup as the schedule called for.
But Marianne, clinging on like a ghost, barged straight in.
"Are you a fly? You have to follow us everywhere?"
Karen's eyes went wide and her voice jumped, but Marianne didn't care in the slightest. She leaned in close to me and said, her tone laced with a challenge:
"Cassie, you know how it is. Jonathan and I grew up together from little kids. Childhood sweethearts."
"I know his tastes better than anyone. I only came to see if your makeup needs any adjusting."
I gave her a cool glance and said nothing.
The next thing I knew, Marianne pulled a lipstick straight out of her pocket and swiped it across my lips before I could react.
The dark red instantly turned my festive bridal look dim, cold, and harsh.
When she was done, she struggled to hold back a laugh.
"There, much better. Jonathan's sure to love it."
She'd done it on purpose, plain and simple.
Karen couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed Marianne's arm and shoved her hard to the side.
"So you've got it out for our Cassie, is that it?"
Aching for me, Karen pulled out a tissue to wipe my lips, but I waved her off.
"Don't. Honestly, I think it looks good like this."
Dark red. The exact opposite of a wedding's festive style.
But thinking about the heroine's revenge show that was about to begin, I found this look fit perfectly with what I was about to do.
Marianne saw all this and took it for my meek compromise.
She straightened her back, her face full of pride.
