Chapter 143 Just Don't Wear a Red Dress
By five o'clock in the afternoon, the anniversary fair at Prestige High School finally came to an end.
The day had been a whirlwind... noise, color, laughter, and endless movement... and by the time the last booth closed, everyone was worn thin.
The next morning, Donny walked into the classroom with a smile that told the students he was carrying good news. He stepped up to the podium, his voice carrying across the room.
"I have something to announce. This year's popularity and revenue rankings from the anniversary fair... both first and second place belong to our class."
"First place goes to the team led by Dorian... prize money, two million. Second place goes to the team led by Rachel... prize money, one million."
"Both teams performed exceptionally well. Let's give them a round of applause."
The room erupted with clapping, a wave of sound bouncing off the walls.
Rachel sat at her desk, her expression dark enough to smother the light. Yesterday morning she had been riding high, basking in the glow of attention. By afternoon, the tide had turned. The school's crowd had poured toward Amelia's dessert booth like moths to a flame.
Her own team's revenue was a hollow victory, propped up only by selling overpriced coffee during those few hours before the crowd vanished. And the bitterness in her chest had a name... Yvette.
Yvette had been her carefully chosen "celebrity guest," meant to draw eyes and keep the café busy. Instead, she had left halfway through the event, taking with her every fan who had come for her. By the end, Rachel's café was a shell... empty, silent, and humiliating.
The insult deepened when Yvette had the nerve to text her later that afternoon.
Yvette: [Rachel, didn't you say you'd invite me over after the fair? When should we set it up?]
Rachel stared at the screen so hard her grip on the phone tightened until she thought she might crack it. She hadn't brought Yvette in to socialize... she'd brought her in to boost numbers. And now, after walking out, Yvette wanted Rachel to arrange a meeting with Ryan?
Under any other circumstances, Rachel would have ignored her entirely. But now... now Yvette could be useful. A piece in the plan Rachel was quietly building.
She drew in a slow breath and typed her reply.
Rachel: [Yvette, Kevin is hosting a celebration at my place tomorrow night. It's for Amelia and me, for winning first and second place. Ryan will be there. You should come.]
Yvette's response was instant.
Yvette: [Really? That's amazing!]
Seconds later, another message rolled in... longer, breathless.
[You grew up with Ryan, right? You must know what kind of girls he likes. Should I wear a dress or something casual? Does he have a favorite color?]
Rachel's gaze cooled as she read. Her fingers moved slowly over the screen.
Rachel: [Wear whatever you want. Just don't wear a red dress.]
Yvette: [Why? Ryan doesn't like red dresses?]
Rachel's lips curled in a humorless sound that wasn't quite a laugh. Not liking was an understatement. She didn't bother replying. Instead, she tossed the phone onto the bed and let it lie.
The next day.
The so-called "celebration" was nothing more than a pretext.
On one hand, Kevin had noticed during the fair that Amelia seemed to get along well with Zander, Dorian, and Asher. As her brother, he was relieved to see her making friends with his younger siblings, who were usually reserved to the point of isolation. The gathering was a chance to let them enjoy each other's company again.
On the other hand, Kevin had invited Michael. Outside the storage room during the fair, he had mentioned wanting a chance to talk to Michael. This was that chance. Otherwise, he wouldn't rest easy.
Aside from the welcome dinner they had thrown for Amelia months ago, The Martinez family hadn't hosted a private gathering in a long time. Kevin was buried in company affairs, Chris was rarely home, and Ryan had barely set foot in the house over the past year. They were rarely all in one place, and even more rarely had a reason to be.
Tonight was rare.
When Jenny heard Michael would be coming, she immediately grew anxious. She joined the household staff in arranging the space, setting the table, and checking every detail twice. In her mind, Michael was a heavyweight figure Kevin had met in the business world... cold, distant, and impossible to approach. For him to accept an invitation to The Martinez family's home was, to her, a sign of respect.
She even cornered Kevin in the hallway.
"I heard Mr. Johnson's legs are healed now. Doesn't that make him the most eligible bachelor in the city?"
"With his position and influence, every wealthy family in River City must be watching him, hoping to marry their daughters into The Johnson family."
"Tell me... should I have Rachel dress up a little more? She's beautiful and accomplished. What if Michael falls for her at first sight?"
"If we could arrange a marriage alliance with The Johnson family, their support could lift us higher than we've ever been."
To Jenny, The Martinez family had only one true daughter... Rachel. Amelia had never counted.
Kevin could only stare at her, speechless. He knew perfectly well that if not for Amelia, Michael wouldn't even be here. And he certainly wouldn't spare Rachel a second glance.
As for marriage... the thought had never crossed his mind. Even if Amelia marrying Michael could benefit the family, Kevin would never treat her as a bargaining chip.
The party was set for seven o'clock.
Amelia slept through her afternoon nap until nearly five, waking only when a knock came at her door. She rubbed her eyes, shuffled to the door, and found a servant standing there, holding a large, beautifully wrapped gift box.
She glanced down. "What's this?"
The servant bowed slightly. "Miss, this was sent by Mr. Johnson. He said it's for you to wear to the gathering tonight."
She had planned to throw on something casual. It was only family and close friends, after all. But Michael, apparently, had other ideas.
She carried the box to her desk and lifted the lid. Inside lay a long dress... simple in design, elegant in cut, formal enough to make a statement yet relaxed enough to feel like her own. The fabric was rich beneath her fingers, the kind that caught light in subtle ways.
The color was her favorite... a deep, intoxicating wine-red, like roses blooming in the dark.