Manager: Mrs. Sterling? Did I hear you correctly? Cancel everything?
Margaret: You heard me perfectly, David. Shut down the entire event immediately.
Manager: Ma'am, the ceremony is set to begin in ten minutes! The guests are already seated!
Margaret: I do not care if they are standing on their heads, David. Pull the catering, lock the bar, and clear the hall.
Manager: May I ask what happened? Did the floral arrangements not meet your standard?
Margaret: The bride just slapped me across the face in front of two hundred guests.
A heavy silence fell over the phone line. David, the general manager of the Sterling Grand Estate, held his breath on the other end.
Manager: She... she did what to you, Mrs. Sterling?
Margaret: She struck me, broke a crystal glass on my rug, and told me I looked like a server.
Manager: I am calling venue security to arrest her right this second!
Margaret: No, do not call security yet. Just hand her the official cancellation order. I want her to see every dollar disappear.
Manager: Understood, ma'am. The master black folder is on my desk. I will deliver it personally in two minutes.
Margaret: Make sure the police are waiting at the front gates when the guests leave.
Manager: It will be done, Mrs. Sterling. I am deeply sorry this happened on your property.
Margaret hung up the phone, setting it neatly back into her purse. She took a damp linen towel, gently pressing it against her bruised cheek while looking at her reflection in the mirror.
Margaret: My son thought he was marrying a princess. He needs to see the viper he brought into our family.
Out in the opulent banquet hall, Tiffany was preening in front of a giant gilded mirror, holding her bouquet of white orchids.
Tiffany: Maid of Honor! Where is my lipstick Touch-up?!
Maid of Honor: I have it right here, Tiffany! Please don't yell at me!
Tiffany: Well, hurry up! The photographer is standing right there waiting for my close-ups!
Marcus: Tiffany, please. Go talk to my mother. She is still in the restroom.
Tiffany: I am not chasing down an old woman to apologize, Marcus! She should apologize to me for ruining my rug shot!
Marcus: It is her venue, Tiffany!
Tiffany: What did you just say?
Marcus: This entire estate! The Sterling Grand Hall! My mother owns the deed to this entire land!
Tiffany paused, her lipstick hovering an inch away from her lips. She slowly turned her head to look at Marcus.
Tiffany: Stop trying to scare me, Marcus. You said your family was in agricultural trade.
Marcus: Sterling Global Real Estate! That is my mother's company! She paid for every single flower in this room!
Tiffany: No... no, that's impossible. The contract was signed by Sterling Management LLC.
Marcus: Who do you think the 'Sterling' in Sterling Management is, Tiffany?!
Before Tiffany could respond, the heavy double doors at the back of the banquet hall swung open. David, the general manager wearing a sharp black suit, marched down the center aisle holding a thick black folder stamped with a golden wax seal.
Tiffany: Oh, look. The manager is finally here. Tell him to get rid of that broken glass, Marcus.
David: Excuse me, Miss Vance.
Tiffany: It is Mrs. Sterling now, actually. And your staff is doing a terrible job keeping this floor clean!
David: The event has been cancelled.