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Red, of course.
Ronnie’s eyes go saucer wide as she watches the next few seconds unfold. I think it’s one of my finest moments.
I step closer, the glasses held out in front.
I trip, stumbling over nothing.
Then I toss both glasses straight at Felicia’s pristine bodice. The wine soaks her, staining the white satin before the goblets crash to the floor and shatter.
“What have you done?” Felicia tries to step out of the way, but she’s far, far too late. She looks like a zombie bride after a snack.
“I guess you’ll have to wear the blue dress after all,” I say. “Sorry.”
I glance back at Ronnie. She mouths,Thank you.
See, I told you I’d save the day. I might aspire to be sunshine, but I canburn.
Except—the moment isn’t over.
Felicia’s face turns redder than her stained bodice. She makes two fists like a toddler refusing to go to bed and lets out a terrifying shriek.
The wedding planner bursts into the room. “Oh my God, what is it?”
“Call security!” Felicia yells. “Call them right now or you’ll never work another wedding again!”
The poor woman nearly drops her phone. “What happened?” Then she sees the front of the dress. “Oh.”
“Get security now!”
The woman scampers off.
Felicia turns to me. “You did that on purpose. I want you out of here.”
“I’m here for Ronnie, and I’m not leaving,” I say.
Her eyes narrow, and the pure evil aimed at me almost makes me shiver.
An oversize man in a brown uniform races into the room. “What’s wrong?”
“Her,” Felicia says. “Jeremy, get her out of here.”
Uh-oh. She’s on a first-name basis with the security guard.
“No!” Ronnie cries. “She’s my best friend!”
“Take her in the hall,” Felicia says. “She doesn’t belong here.”
The guard hesitates a moment, but Felicia’s voice gets more strident. “Jeremy! Take her in the hall!”
That’s actually a good idea. Ronnie’s seen enough. “I’ve got this,” I tell her. “Don’t worry.”
And before the big lug can put his hand on me, I walk ahead of him into the gold-wallpapered corridor, my puffy peach skirt swaying around my knees with my swagger.
Felicia closes the door to the bridal chamber and faces the hall. “This woman intentionally ruined my dress,” she says to Jeremy.
“I tripped,” I say. “I’m a bridesmaid.”
Jeremy looks back and forth between us, taking in the ruined dress. “If she just tripped—”
