Page 78 of A Love Like Pumpkin Spice
When she catches my eye, I can see her almost breaking into a triumphant grin, but she catches herself at the last moment. At this point, the only thing I can do is let her dig a deeper hole, waiting for the perfect moment to push her into it.
“She left her poor fiancé with nothing and ran to be withhim.” She points at the two of us, and it’s taking everything inside me to not burst into laughter when the crowd’s murmur turns from confused to angry.
She might have had a chance if she’d only attacked me. But to pull Henry into this, a man who’s lived here all his life, who everyone here has watched grow up into the wonderful man that he is today—that’s when she completely loses the crowd.
“I came here thinking maybe we could reconnect as sisters. But watching her pretend nothing happened? Making herself the victim? It’s not only dishonest. It’s dangerous. And if it saves even one person here from falling into the same trap we all did … then maybe it’s worth speaking up.” She clutches her chest, trying her best to sound sincere.
I don’t think she realizes yet that there is not a single person in this crowd left who believes her. Courtney and Phil are shaking their head with amusement, while Mr. Peterson is inspecting his cane, probably wondering how to best use it as a weapon. Hell, even Amanda’s jaw is set in anger, and she’s basically the queen of being unbothered.
I motion to Lauren, who has been waiting at an angle where Marissa couldn’t see her, and she hands me a microphone, motioning for Kieran to cut the one on stage.
“You know, I have a slightly different version of events,” I say into the microphone as I climb up the stairs to the stage, taking out my phone. She tries to cut in, her eyes narrowing at me when she realizes her microphone is dead.
Lauren has spent the past day cutting up all the incriminating recordings that we had of her and Jay. Initially, Lauren wanted to cut the videos into a music video and edit them into dancing clowns, but the rest of us agreed that would be overkill. In the end we settled on only using sound. All I need to do is hold my phone against the microphone and press play.
Now it’s my turn to play the victim part—and I’m the, albeit former, sister thatactuallygot paid and won awards for her acting.
I watch Marissa pale when she hears first Jay’s then her own voice coming from the speakers, listening to snippets of the conversation they had during what was supposed to be my engagement party.
“Once the papers are signed and the period for an annulment is over, I’ll divorce her, take half of her money, and we can be together. We talked about this, baby. I’m doing this for us.”
“I hate having that bitch between us.”
The whole crowd gasps, and I bite my lip to keep from grinning, as all of them turn to glare at Marissa. She is slowly but surely sinking into herself, probably wishing right about now for the ground to swallow her whole.
“Me too, babe. But I’ll make sure she sets us up for life. We’re going to take all the vacations we talked about—on her dime. Just imagine, the two of us on a beach in Hawaii, cocktail in hand, laughing at her miserable life.”
The murmur grows louder, and I notice several people in the audience pulling out their phones to film the spectacle.
“People like her are meant to be used. She’s always been a joke. Way too emotional and way too stingy with her money.”
Thecamera flashes become crazier with every word coming from the speakers.
I’m sure we make an interesting image. Me the victim, blinking incessantly as I pretend to try not to cry, and Marissa next to me, utterly humiliated, paling until she could give the town ghosts Amanda keeps telling Lauren and me about a run for their money.
Once the recording ends, I lower my phone and bring the microphone back to my trembling lips.
“I used to love you dearly, Marissa, but I can’t let you lie to all of these wonderful people,” I say and clutch my heart. “You said it. They deserve the truth!”
She opens and closes her mouth, floundering harder than a fish on dry land as she tries to figure out how to come back from that. But before she can, Erik climbs the stage in his uniform, handcuffs shining in his hand.
“You’re under arrest,” he says dryly, opening them and Marissa stares at him with wide eyes, panic washing over her face.
“What?”
“You’re under arrest,” he repeats. “For identity theft, credit card fraud, disrupting what was so far a calm and nice event, defamation, and harassment. Please turn around and put your hands on your back.”
“You can’t do that,” she protests, trying to wiggle out of his grasp, but he’s got her locked up. “Do you know who I am?”
“Yes, I do, remember? I saw your ID when I escorted you out of the hotel,” Erik chuckles, and a weight falls off my chest when I hear theclickof the handcuffs locking. “You have the right to remain silent, and I recommend you make use of that.”
“You can’t do this!” Marissa shouts.
A sudden commotion breaks out in the back of the crowd, and I spot two of Erik’s uniformed coworkers, snapping handcuffs onto Jay’s wrists. He’s trying to resist, but he’s got no chance against the two men.
Before I can even fully process it, Henry is right beside me, his hand steady and warm on my shoulder. I lean into him without thinking, letting the weight of it all settle, knowing he’s got me.
“This is the best moment of my life,” I whisper, noticing him shake with silent laughter. “I hope Lauren is filming this.”
