Vivian went pale so quickly her spray tan looked painted on.
“You’re lying,” she snapped.
I bent down, picked up a torn corner of the check, and pressed it into her shaking hand. “Call them.”
My mother gasped. “Claire, stop this.”
I turned to her. “You watched her humiliate me.”
“She’s stressed.”
“She’s cruel.”
Vivian’s fiancé, Daniel, appeared at the far end of the hallway, boutonniere crooked, jaw tight. “What’s happening?”
Vivian rushed to him, tears appearing on cue. “Claire is sabotaging us. She’s jealous because no one wants to look at her today.”
Daniel looked at me with his usual lazy contempt. “Pay the bill, Claire. Don’t make this ugly.”
