
The Scam Bride's Sweet Revenge Summary
Chapter 1 of The Scam Bride's Sweet Revenge
Before my fiancé and I went to get our marriage license, I made a point of booking a well-reviewed makeup shop and chose the $128 everyday look.
The artist really did have skill. On my way out I even slipped her a fifty as a tip.
But the moment she heard we were headed to get our license, the smile dropped right off her face.
She looked me up and down and sneered, "The marriage-license look is eight eighty-eight. You owe another seven sixty."
I froze. "But you just did the $128 everyday look, didn't you?"
She rolled her eyes right there. "You only get married once in your life, and you're going to be stingy over this little bit? What, saving up so you can get married a few more times? I've seen plenty of your type, always looking for a loophole to freeload."
That made me laugh out of sheer anger. I grabbed my fiancé's hand and turned to leave.
But she threw herself in front of the door and raised her phone, filming us.
"Nobody's leaving until I get paid! I'll post you two freeloaders online right now, and after that not a single vendor in the wedding business will take your booking!"
Watching her work herself up like that, I quietly took out my phone and opened a wedding-planning group chat with eight thousand members.
If she loved exposure so much, then I'd make absolutely sure this shop of hers raked it in.
1
The artist crowded in with her phone raised, as if terrified we'd bolt, the lens almost jammed against my face.
"I'm getting your two shameless faces on camera, nice and clear."
"A minute ago you were praising my work, and now you turn around and stiff me on the bill!"
"I slaved over this for more than two hours, and you just decide you're not paying?"
"With character like yours, even if you get that license today, you'll end up divorced!"
I could have laughed.
"When I placed the order, I booked the $128 look, and the $128 look is what you gave me. Whether I go get a marriage license or wander through a farmers' market afterward, what business is that of yours?
"Same as a bowl of beef noodles. It doesn't turn from twenty dollars at lunch into sixty just because I eat it at dinner, does it?"
"Goods and services all have set prices. Since when do you charge based on what someone uses them for?"
The artist's face darkened, and her voice went shrill.
"Don't you twist things around here!"
"You were clearly going to get your license and deliberately kept quiet about it. Wasn't that just to freeload a marriage-license look?"
"You walk into the marriage license office wearing my work, and that's wedding service! And you want to pay the everyday price? How do you have the nerve?"
"Two hours of work and I still couldn't cover up that broke, sour look on your face!"
With that, she snatched up the makeup remover from the counter and took a step toward me.
"You're not going to get any license today until you make up the difference!"
"Pay up or get the makeup taken off. Your choice!"
Looking at her, so aggressive, so cornering, I felt something in me go cold, degree by degree.
When we'd first walked in, she'd been wiping down the counter and warmly waved us to sit, smiling as she said the weather had been so hot lately that a booking had been hard to come by.
"Don't you worry, honey. I'm going to make you look gorgeous today."
Watching her bustle around, I'd thought about how hard it is to run a small business. After she finished, I hadn't offered a single complaint. I'd even gone out of my way to send her a fifty-dollar tip.
I never imagined that the second she heard I was getting my license, she'd flip into a whole other person.
I held down my anger and looked at her coldly.
"What you're doing already amounts to defrauding a customer."
"If you dare keep blocking us, we'll call in a complaint and report you right now."
At the word complaint, something clearly flickered in the artist's eyes.
My fiancé, Connor Rowe, held my hand and gently drew me behind him.
"Don't waste time on her."
He looked at the artist. "One hundred twenty-eight dollars. We've already paid the listed price."
"There's no rule anywhere that says it costs extra because it's for a marriage license. We are not paying that difference."
With that, we walked straight for the door.
Behind us, the artist was still shrieking curses, saying we'd stiffed her and we'd get what was coming to us.
Neither Connor nor I looked back. Today was the day we got our license, and there was no reason to let someone like that ruin our mood.
Half an hour later, we had our marriage certificate in hand, no trouble at all.
We were just talking about grabbing a big celebratory meal nearby when my phone suddenly rang.
The call had barely connected before my supervisor came at me:
"Brooklyn Fox, how do you go get a marriage license and end up all over the internet?"
I blanked for a second. "Sir, what do you mean?"
"Go look online yourself!"
"The shop's saying you got your makeup done and stiffed them on the bill. The post has gone completely viral, and someone already forwarded it into our company group!"
My heart dropped, and I opened my phone at once.
Sure enough, photos of Connor and me were already posted online.
The title blazed across the top: Ladies, steer clear! The scumbag couple who wanted a free makeover for their marriage license.
Anger shot straight to my head. I took Connor's hand and turned right back to the makeup shop.
The artist was lounging with her legs crossed, grinning as she replied to comments.
I slapped my phone down on the counter. "Take the post down."
She glanced down at it and only grinned wider.
"In your dreams."
"Since I put you two up there, the number of people asking about my shop today has multiplied several times over."
"Everyone's saying they support me standing up for my rights, and plenty of them have already booked appointments."
She tipped up her chin, pleased with herself.
"A post this hot is basically free advertising for me."
"I'd love for it to stay up forever."

















