I blinked. Wow. No subtlety whatsoever.
Both Harper and Yvonne, standing nearby, turned their heads at the sound of her voice.
I didn't flinch. My eyes--visible through the mask--crinkled with a warmth so practiced, it was practically weaponized.
My voice was sugar-sweet as I responded.
"You seem a little tense. I've got lavender spray in my purse--might help with your... social anxiety."
Miss Hazel flushed from collarbone to forehead.
"You--!"
Poor thing. Definitely not built for verbal combat.
Predictably, her squad of trust fund backup dancers jumped in to save her.
"You stole her boyfriend and you think you can act like you're better than her?" one snapped.
"A little gold-digging nobody playing dress-up in couture. Pathetic," another added.
Before a third could chime in, Yvo
