“Own a dog or own a cat…” Hillary and Hailey’s mom, Mrs. Winston, calls out, her voice carrying all the way from the garden.
Ah, they’re playing Would She Rather.So, they’ve already finished What’s in Your Purse and moved on to the second game.
Yes!
That means we’re officially done with mimosas and mingling. Hillary’s already made her maid-of-honor welcome speech, so I turn back to the buffet table. Judging by the empty photo station and the state of the buffet, brunch and photos with the bride are over too.
Even better, the only thing left on the agenda that Hailey and I put together is refilling mimosas before the cake cutting and gift opening.
Perfect.
“Okay, Ebony…you’ve got to do this,” I whisper to myself, trying to hype myself up. I still have no idea how I’m going to start this conversation, and now here I am, exposed, in the name of…what? Setting boundaries? Prioritizing joy? Taking away Cornelia’s power to define my worth? “Good Lord, Savannah, you’ve got me over here ruminating in motivational phrases.”
My skin prickles with anticipation, and my breath quickens. Except, as I let my focus drift back to the gardens, here comes Cornelia, stalking straight toward me.
On cue, I refocus my energy, dialing in on the goal—one-third of it, anyway.
I’m here to confront Cornelia. But I’m also going to speak to Hillary and check in with Hailey, so for now, my ex-monster-in-law has my full attention.
My heart races, but I steady myself.
“It’s a lovely affair,” she says, though there’s nothing breezy about it. In fact, her usual smarmy tone is in full force. Not a smile in sight, just those disdainful eyes, currently cutting through me like a thousand blaring judgments.
You don’t belong here anymore,they say. So typical. So clichéd.Crawl back into your hole.
But they don’t work the way they used to.
I steady my gaze, matching her energy. Lifting my chin, stone-faced, I straighten. “Yes, just as the bride envisioned.”
Play your card, Cornelia.
And then she does.
“It’s truly unfortunate that the planner has chosen to drag herself, and this entire event”—she waves an indignant hand in this air—“into such unnecessary drama.”
A small, disbelieving giggle escapes me. “Oh, I dragged myself? That’s rich, coming from you.”
“And here, when I hired you, I expected the professionalism and exquisite taste that you so often boast about.” She snickers, sarcasm dripping from her precision-lined pink lips. “Now you’re embroiled in scandal with such childish theatrics.”
And that does it. “Do you really think I don’t know you hired Benson Marks to track my every move?” I scoff, fury searing far deeper than the surface of my skin.
Cornelia gasps, falsely outraged. “Well, I never—”
“Oh,please.” I hold my palm out to her, urging her to stop.Theseare theatrics, if ever I’ve seen them. “I know you’re trying to ruin me, but guess what? Youclearlythink of me as easy target, a pawn in your little game, but I’m not. Not anymore. So you should be aware that I’m not going to just sit here and take it. I will fight back.”
Her whole expression smooths, her eyes narrowing to slits.
“Is that what you call your sad little confessionals on the Internet? You’re making a spectacle of yourself,” she spits out, showing her hand.
“Does that really burn you up, Cornelia? Hmm?” Laughter bubbles at the back of my throat, but I manage to lower my voice, searching her eyes as I ask, “What bothers you more? That I’ve got the audacity to face the world and still pick myself up? Or that I’m not just making it, I’mthrivingwithout your ‘perfect’ son, who, lo and behold, turned out to be an absolute disappointment and a waste of space?”
“Don’t you dare say another—”
An utterly sinister smile curves my lips. “You know it just as well as I do. He’s lost his job, and he’s constantly texting me, begging me to take him back. And now, to top it off, he’s got a child on the way with a Luxe Lady.” This time, I can’t hold back my laughter. I’m outright cackling in this woman’s face, and it feels damn good. “You’re about to be a Luxe Livingston grandma. You must be so proud—”
“That’s enough!” she interrupts, her tone jagged and sharp.
She means it to be a quiet whisper of a warning, but her hard voice lands with a crash, garnering the attention of the entire garden party.
