Chapter 3
At the estate, Cassandra barely looked at me until guests started arriving.
Then she inspected me like a stain.
“Those are the shoes?” she asked.
“They’re clean,” I said.
“They’re not the ones I approved.”
“They’re the ones I own.”
Her smile tightened.
Her maid of honor, Brittany, snickered behind a champagne flute.
Cassandra leaned in and whispered, “Try not to bring attention to yourself today.”
I looked down at my plain dress.
“Trust me. That won’t be a problem.”
But it was a problem for her.
Because Cassandra didn’t just want to look beautiful.
She wanted someone beneath her.
Someone the room could compare her to.
Someone she could step over on her way to the altar.
That someone was me.
The guests gathered near the courtyard.
Two hundred people in linen suits, silk dresses, pearls, diamonds, and polite little smiles.
The groom’s family sat up front.
Peter stood near the arch, nervous but happy.
Daniel Reeves, the best man, stood beside him.
Daniel was a top attorney from Chicago.
Calm.
Observant.
The kind of man who listened more than he spoke.
He and I had met six months earlier at a charity paperwork meeting.
He had asked me out twice.
I had turned him down twice.
Not because I didn’t like him.
Because men like Daniel didn’t usually choose women like me.
At least, that’s what life had taught me.
But he still smiled when he saw me that day.
Then his smile faded when he noticed Cassandra circling me.
I tried to keep my head down.
I really did.
But Cassandra approached with her photographer following.
That should have warned me.
She wanted an audience.
She pointed at my dress.
“Grace, what happened here?”
“Nothing happened.”
“It looks cheap.”
“It’s the bridesmaid dress you assigned.”
Her face changed.
Not much.
Just enough.
“Well, everyone else made theirs look elegant.”
Brittany laughed.
A few cousins turned.
I felt heat crawl up my neck.
“Cassandra, please,” I said softly. “Not here.”
That was the sentence she wanted.
May you like
Please.
It made her taller.
