Chapter 12: Splashed Hot Coffee Onto Vivienne's Face

 

The canteen manager Pete was a large, cheerful man who had been running the Vane Sterling staff kitchen for eleven years. When Briar came in the next morning he looked up from his clipboard, looked back down, and said, "You were sick."

"Yes. I'm really sorry about the short notice, I felt terrible, I couldn't even get out of bed, I"

"Did you bring it into my kitchen?"

"No, I"

"Then I don't want to know." He handed her a fresh uniform top without looking up. "Cutlery station. Henderson quit so you're on napkin fold training too."

"Henderson quit?"

"Life is change, Briar." He was already walking away. "Roll with it."

She liked Pete. She liked the canteen in general, actually, in a way she did not like most things at Vane Sterling. It was the one part of the building where people talked to her like she was just a person standing next to them.

---

She found the tie clip at a men's accessories shop in the shopping center near the tower.

It took her forty minutes to decide. She had almost nothing left this month, not after Stephanie's call. She had kept back a small amount. Not much. She had stood in front of the display case and chosen the best thing that amount could buy.

It was simple, silver, with a small engraved line along one edge. The most expensive thing she could afford. She had it wrapped carefully and put it in her bag.

She was coming out of the shop entrance when Damian Holt spotted her.

He was the alpha heir of the Westfield Pack, tall and broad and the kind of person who had never once been told no by anyone whose opinion he valued. He was leaning against the wall outside with two other men, and when he saw her his mouth curved into something that was not a smile.

"Look at that walk," he said. "What happened to you, Briar? You always move like that or did you actually manage to hurt yourself this time?"

She kept walking.

His foot caught hers from the side and she went down hard onto the wet pavement. Her hands hit the ground first. Her knee hit something cold. Her bag swung sideways and she grabbed it to her chest before it could land, the wrapped box safe inside it.

The men laughed.

She pushed herself up. Her palms were scraped. Her leggings had torn at the knee.

"That was on purpose," she said. "You did that on purpose. You can't just do that to people. That is not okay!"

Damian looked at her like she had said something mildly amusing. "Did the Luna just tell me off?"

The men with him laughed again.

Briar's face burned. She turned away because there was nothing else to do, and that was when she saw the car.

Killian's car was parked twenty feet away.

Killian was at the passenger side door. Vivienne was beside him in a pale coat, and Killian was holding the door open with one hand and reaching down with the other to lift the hem of her coat clear of the car door so it would not catch. Careful. Deliberate. Like it mattered.

Briar sat on the wet pavement and watched him do it.

"Killian," she said.

He did not turn around.

"Killian." Louder. Her voice cracked on it. "Killian, please."

His hand stilled on Vivienne's coat. His shoulders shifted slightly. He did not turn.

Then Vivienne stepped past him and walked over to Briar in four quick steps and crouched down in front of her.

"Come on," Vivienne said. "Get up."

Over Vivienne's shoulder, Briar saw Killian watching with his face completely closed. Then he looked away and got into the car.

He had not noticed she was gone. Not for a single day.

---

The coffee shop inside the shopping center was warm. Vivienne ordered for both of them without asking and set a cup in front of Briar and reached into her shopping bag.

"I have something for you," she said. She pulled out a dress, deep burgundy, wrapped in tissue. "I bought the wrong size. It will suit you."

Briar looked at it. It was beautiful. It was also clearly several sizes too small.

"Go try it on," Vivienne said. "The bathroom is just there."

Briar took it.

In the bathroom mirror she already knew before she pulled it fully on. The fabric stretched tight across her hips and pulled at the seams and the zip would not close at the back.

In the bathroom mirror she already knew before she pulled it fully on. The fabric stretched across her hips and pulled hard at the seams and the zip stopped halfway up her back and would not move further. She stood in the bright bathroom light and looked at herself for a long moment.

She came back out and set the dress on the table.

"The size is wrong," she said. "It doesn't fit."

Vivienne glanced at it. "I'm sure it's fine."

"The zip won't close. It doesn't fit, Vivienne."

Vivienne said nothing. She slid the coffee cup toward Briar's side of the table instead. "Actually, while we're here. I wanted to try something. A little scene. Just for fun." Her voice was light. "Pick up that cup and pour it on me."

Briar looked at the cup. Still steaming. "Why?"

"It's a character exercise. You pour, I react. Very simple."

"That will burn you," Briar said. "It's hot."

"It's a small cup."

"Vivienne, that's a full cup of hot coffee. That's going to hurt."

Vivienne looked at her for a moment. Then something shifted in her face and the warmth drained out of it completely.

"You want to know the truth? You're a disgusting, fat, brainless pig, Briar!" she hissed, leaning in close.

Briar went very still.

This was Vivienne. This was her sister's face saying these things. It did not make sense. It did not look right. She felt like she was seeing something she was not supposed to see and did not know what to do with it.

"Vivienne," she said slowly. "Why are you... why are you talking like that?"

Vivienne did not stop.

"Your mother was a pathetic, low-life whore who climbed into a rich man's bed because she had nothing else to offer! And look at you—you’re just like her! A useless slut who thinks she can keep a man like Killian!"

Briar’s hands began to shake on the table.

“NO！That’s not what you actually wanted to say at all—is it? Stop it, Vivienne!”

"He doesn't love you! He told me the very sight of your yellow, pimpled face makes him want to vomit!" Vivienne laughed, a sharp, jagged sound. "You are a stain on this pack! You are nothing but a stupid, embarrassing mistake! Just like your mother, you’re better off dead!"

The world turned red. Briar picked up the cup and threw the scalding coffee directly at her.

Vivienne screamed. Her hands flying to her arm where the coffee had caught the sleeve of her pale coat, her chair scraping back hard across the floor.

The coffee shop went completely silent.

The door slammed open. Killian stood there, his eyes darting from Vivienne’s wet sleeve to the empty cup in Briar’s hand.

His face contorted with a fury she had never seen before.

"Briar, what the fuck are you doing!!"