The Scam Bride's Sweet Revenge

My chest felt tight with anger.

"If you won't take it down, then we're calling the police."

The makeup artist just laughed, folding her arms as if she'd heard a joke.

"Call them if you want."

I didn't waste another word on her. I dialed the police right there.

A little over ten minutes later, two officers arrived at the shop.

The moment she saw them, the artist who'd been so smug a second ago went pale.

She hurried over to greet them, her face all smiles.

"Officers, this is all just a misunderstanding."

"It isn't easy running a little business like this. We just got a bit loud while we were talking things through."

"I've already deleted the post."

And with that, she held out her phone to them.

I looked down. Sure enough, the post that had racked up over ten thousand likes was gone without a trace.

Once the officers understood what had happened, one of them spoke patiently:

"If there's a dispute over pricing, you can file a complaint with the consumer rights bureau, or settle it through civil channels."

"Posting things online tends to cause trouble. Don't handle problems this way again."

The artist nodded so fast her head practically bobbed.

"Yes, yes, of course, the officer's right, I'll be careful from now on."

The very picture of an honest little shopkeeper.

With the post already deleted and no more conflict, there was nothing more for the officers to do. They said a few reassuring words to me and Connor, then left.

The door had barely shut before the smile dropped off her face.

She folded her arms and settled back into her chair, her mouth twisting into a sneer.

"That little trick of yours, you think it did anything?"

"Save your energy, I'm telling you. What can you actually do to me?"

I looked at her coldly.

"I'll keep filing complaints."

"The consumer rights bureau, the consumer protection agency. One after another, I'll report you to every single one."

Instead of showing the slightest worry, she only laughed harder.

"I've been in this business over ten years. I've been reported dozens of times, maybe more than a hundred."

"If this shop can't stay open, I just change the name, change the sign, and open right back up."

She waved a hand, unbothered.

"Your little complaints? They don't mean a thing to me."

"If there's nothing else, get lost. My next client's about to show up, and I don't have time for you two."

I stood there, something heavy sitting in my chest.

Today was supposed to be the happiest day for me and Connor, and she'd turned all of it into a mess.

She'd used our exposure to rake in attention and customers.

And Connor and I had somehow become the freeloaders the whole internet wanted to spit on. We didn't even dare post about getting our license.

Just then, something seemed to occur to her, and her eyes darted around.

"Oh, right. Didn't you two also book a couples photo shoot?"

I froze. "How do you know that?"

Watching my reaction, her smile turned even smugger.

"The phone number you ordered with placed an order at the photo studio next door too."

"Forgot to mention."

"That studio? My daughter runs it."

My stomach dropped. I opened my phone at once.

Sure enough, the couples photo shoot I'd booked for $666 had, at some point, been changed into an $8,888 wedding-gown package.

I forced down my anger and held the phone up in front of her.

"We booked a couples photo shoot."

"What gives you the right to change it into a wedding-gown package without asking?"

The artist rolled her eyes.

"Once you've got the license, you're husband and wife. There's no such thing as a couples shoot anymore, it's all wedding photos."

She looked me and Connor up and down, contempt all over her face.

"I'm doing this for your own good. It's a once-in-a-lifetime thing, and you insist on making it so cheap."

"People find out, they'll think your husband couldn't even spring for a set of wedding photos."

"The two of you want a bargain on everything. Bottom line, you're just broke."

"Broke and desperate to look respectable. You two don't even have the decency to be embarrassed."

I pulled up the order right then.

"Fine."

"Then I'll cancel it."

"You won't earn a single cent off us. That works, doesn't it?"

But the artist wasn't the least bit rattled.

"Go ahead and cancel."

"My family's been in the wedding industry over ten years."

"Photography, makeup, wedding planning. We know plenty of people."

She looked at me, slow and deliberate, spelling it out word by word:

"If you don't shoot at my daughter's studio today,"

"I promise you, not one wedding company will ever dare take your business again."