Chapter 2

Throughout the entire redo, Heather had no intention of making it easy for me.

The moment I picked up the powder puff, she jerked her head around.

"Gentler! Do you even know how to do makeup? You're going to rub my skin raw!"

I paused and looked at her evenly.

"Miss Tedd, you were the one moving."

"You're talking back to me now?" Heather shrieked.

Several bridesmaids swarmed in immediately, all chiming in at once.

"You hired help really have no professionalism at all."

"Right? Taking our money and putting on airs—who does she think she is?"

"Heather, why don't you just file a complaint with her studio? Make sure she loses her job."

Heather watched me in the mirror, a mocking smile curling at the corner of her lips.

"Forget it. It's my big day. I can't be bothered with someone of her class."

She looked me up and down, eyes brimming with contempt.

"Judging by your age, you must be pushing thirty?"

"Out here baking under the sun day after day doing other people's makeup, and you can't even afford a decent piece of jewelry."

"No ring either. Don't tell me you can't even land a boyfriend?"

I dampened a cotton pad with makeup remover, my tone perfectly flat.

"I'm married."

Heather blinked, then burst into exaggerated laughter.

"Oh my, married? Then why are you out here doing servant's work?"

"Your husband must be useless—can't even support his own wife."

Carl stood by the door, his face twisted like he'd just bitten into something rotten.

He kept shooting me desperate looks, begging me to shut up.

I pretended not to notice. As I wiped her face, I drawled lazily.

"He is pretty useless."

"Can't earn a dime, but loves playing big shot in public."

Heather snorted, drunk on her own superiority.

"That's exactly why I always say—for a woman, marrying well beats working hard."

"Take my Carl. Young, accomplished, runs his own company."

"For this wedding alone, he dropped over a million without blinking."

"That's what a real man does—shelters his woman from every storm."

My hand paused mid-stroke.

A crucial detail had just registered.

Over a million?

Carl's salary card had been in my keeping the entire time. His meager monthly paycheck barely covered the mortgage.

Where on earth would he get over a million for a wedding?

"A million is no small sum," I prodded carefully. "Mr. Lanion must really dote on you."

Heather assumed I was eaten up with envy. She preened even harder.

"Of course. Carl didn't just cover the whole wedding—he even gave me five million as a gift!"

"A washed-up divorcée like you wouldn't run into a man this good in ten lifetimes."

The bridesmaid beside her covered her mouth, snickering.

"Heather, why bother telling her? Her kind has probably never even seen what five million looks like."

"Who knows—maybe she got caught playing mistress and got tossed out without a cent."

Their laughter was shrill and grating.

Carl could barely stand. He strode over and grabbed Heather's arm.

"Enough, Heather! We're really running out of time. Just leave the makeup as is!"

Heather shrugged him off, irritated.

"What is wrong with you today? Why do you keep taking her side?"

Carl was drenched in sweat. He blurted out the first excuse he could think of.

"The MC is rushing us. Several VIPs are already here—we can't keep them waiting!"

The mention of VIPs finally got Heather to rein it in.

"Fine. Leave it then."

She turned and shot me a vicious glare.

"Hurry up and do my hair. If it's not perfect, I'll make you cough up double the fee."