Page 105 of Love and Other Champagne Problems

A hand curved along my back and up to my shoulder, and when I opened my eyes, I found Yvette coming around to face me. She had a painted smile on her lips, makeup that was far too heavy for her middle-aged features. She looked like a child who’d gotten into their mother’s beauty cabinet. “I’m surprised you’re here,” she said in a deceptively soft voice.

“It must be quite the day for you,” I said, swallowing down the bile that had risen in my throat. “Your daughter getting married and your friend’s funeral on the same day. Not that you showed up for the latter.”

“I’m sure Nancy would’ve understood,” Yvette said as she nodded, reassuring herself. “It’s just a whirlwind, getting prepared for a wedding. I’m sure there was quite a turnout without me there.”

She’d said it with a twist to her lips, without lookingme in the eye. She knew no one went, and judging by the look in her gaze, she thought it wasfunny. My chest began rising and falling a bit quicker, a tremor working its way through me. “If it was any other day, you would’ve attended?”

“But it wasn’t, was it? And I’m sure you had a hand in the day the funeral was held, didn’t you?” Yvette gave an unkind smile. “Out of all the days the funeral could’ve fallen on, it had to be today? Anything to ruin someone else’s happiness.”

I had nothing to do with deciding the funeral date, but I didn’t tell Yvette that. “I’m sure you’re only upset that Nancy couldn’t make it to the wedding because you won’t get her wedding gift.” My fingers dented into my cup more firmly. “What a shame. Your ass kissing didn’t even get you a penny in the end.”

Yvette lost her smile.

Once I’d started, there was no stopping. My chest rose and fell faster, and so did my words. “I’m sure you’re happy she’s dead, just like every other pathetic bloodsucker that’d been hanging off her these past few months. Happy you don’t have to waste your own time anymore, trying to steal an old lady’s fortune. You might not have gotten the money you wanted, but at least you don’t have to play nursemaid.”

“Give me a break, Margot. You’re acting all high and mighty, as if you weren’t doing the same.” Yvette looked around briefly before taking a half-step closer. “Don’t pretend like you cared about Nancy in the slightest. We both know you’re just a selfish black hole. Haveyoueven cried forMs. Nancy?”

I didn’t even blink, though her words were a strangling blow. I hadn’t cried. Not once.

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “I doubt it. You have to have emotions to cry. So don’t pretend as if you’re better than me. Better thananyof us. You aren’t. And given the fact that your mother escorted the Astors out, with angry expressions all around, it seems my prediction was true, hmm? You trulyweren’tgood enough for a family like them.”

The flute of champagne in my hand was slippery, as if it could’ve fallen from my grip any moment. I let the mental image play out, me tossing its sparkling contents onto Yvette’s mother-of-the-bride dress. It’d be an improvement on the ugly blue fabric, that was for sure. She’d screech, and her scream would be one everyone would hear. Everyone would’ve blocked out mine if I screamed, but they’d answer the call of one of their own.

My parents would be humiliated. It most likely would’ve gotten caught by the wandering camera crew.

Perhaps this was my opportunity to go out with a bang.

Yvette seemed to realize I had a drink in my hand, because she took a large step away from me, her heels clicking on the floors. She darted away before I could follow through on the fantasy I’d built in my head, taking my opportunity to let everything out.

I wandered away from the bar, feet taking me toward the desserts. The cupcake table, like every other square inch of the ballroom, was elegant, of course. The table itself was draped with a golden satin tablecloth with pearls littering the surface to catch the eye. I wondered ifthey were real. Probably. The cupcakes themselves had golden frosting with glitter shining atop, stretched in tiers throughout the dessert table. At the center of the table, though, sat the large, seven-tiered wedding cake, all white and gold with icing flowers cascading in a waterfall down the fondant.

I swiped my index finger through a flower, ruining its blooming image. I touched the frosting to my tongue. Sweet. Too sweet. It turned my stomach.

Everyone was too busy dancing, mingling, gossiping, drinking, to notice the lone girl at the table. It was a Margot Massey specialty, being overlooked while she stood in a corner. Perhaps people purposefully ignored me. Perhaps they didn’t notice me at all. I didn’t know where Destelle was. I didn’t care.

I ran my hand along the table’s edge, feeling the hard plastic hidden beneath the silk tablecloth. I caressed the edge, lifting ever so slightly, testing the weight. For a seven-tiered cake and dozens of cupcakes, it wasn’t as heavy as I thought it’d be. I lifted the table an inch, staring at the flower I’d swiped my finger through.

The day felt like it’d been five years long. Never-ending. Too much to think about. Nancy, Sumner, Aaron, Vivienne, my mother, Yvette, Annalise. I couldn’t focus on a single one of them; they were too scattered in my head. Everything from the day bombarded my senses—the funeral, the wedding, the betrayal. My head pounded with it all, a jackknifing pressure that drove me mad.

I pictured lifting the dessert table up by more than an inch. In my pounding mind, I pictured flipping it over, sending decorations and icing and cakeeverywhere. The pearls would scatter. I pictured the surprised shrieks that would’ve surely erupted by the sudden sound, and then Yvette’s scream as she realized the seven-tiered wedding cake of her dreams—ahem, herdaughter’s dreams—was reduced to something to be scraped into the trash.

The gold icing rose was ruined, and the sugar burned my tongue.

I pictured Yvette’s face as she would gasp at what I did. I pictured my mother’s face.

And I flipped the table.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Calculated chaos was my specialty. My mother called me impulsive, but she didn’t know that everything that I did, I did for a reason. I thought it all out before acting, watching the events play out in my head so that things would unfold in exactly the way I’d intended them to. It was chaos, but planned—orchestrated to yield the most beautiful results.

Except for tonight. I didn’t think about the consequences. I didn’t think about anything other than ruining it all.

I’d figured security probably throw me out of the wedding, but I did not realize they’d ban me from the property entirely. Which meant, since the Alderton-Du Ponte Country Club was affiliated with Massey Suites, I was also banned from the hotel. Effective immediately. Security didn’t even let me go back to my room and collect my things, not even my wallet. Instead, security escorted me to the valet, where they called a taxi.

I wasn’t allowed to take my car; it wasn’t in my name, after all.

My parents did not accompany me to the valet, nordid any of the Astors. The only person who stood with me in the breezy summer night was the bulky security guard while we waited for the car. I had no idea where Sumner was.

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