Love After Leaving: No Regret (Agnes and Raymond) novel Chapter 333

Vivian dabbed at her teary eyes, all doe-eyed innocence.

"What are you going to do? Please don't. We're all here to relax. I'm fine, really..."

Her eyes were red. Her lips pressed into a brave, trembling smile. The picture of wounded grace.

"You're too soft, Vivian. Girls like that walk all over people like you. Sit back and watch."

Vivian sniffled—while the corner of her mouth fought not to curl.

Tiffany scanned the area, glanced at the pool behind Agnes, then picked up a glass of red wine and headed straight for her.

As she closed in, Tiffany broke into a wide, bright smile.

"Ms. Sinclair! I'm Tiffany! I've heard so much about you! I've been dying to meet you! I—

"Oh no!"

Tiffany shrieked. Her heel seemed to catch on something. She lurched forward.

She toppled toward Agnes, and as she fell, her right hand 'accidentally' shoved hard at Agnes's back.

Because directly behind Agnes was the pool. The plan was simple: fake a stumble, push Agnes in, and cause public humiliation.

Agnes was faster. She twisted sideways and reached out a hand.

It looked like she was catching Tiffany. In reality, she used Tiffany's own momentum to steady herself—and gave Tiffany a vicious shove in return.

Tiffany had committed too hard. She'd never expected Agnes to dodge—let alone push back.

Before she could even scream, she lost her balance completely and went headfirst into the pool.

She came up sputtering, flailing, choking on water.

Agnes crouched at the pool's edge, her voice honey-sweet. "Oh my, are you okay? Someone help her!"

She trailed one hand through the water, paddling lazily.

Every time Tiffany's head bobbed above the surface, Agnes gently pushed it back under.

Tiffany looked like a drowning goldfish.

"Glub glub—ahh—help—glub glub—help me—glub glub..."

By the time the staff fished Tiffany out, her makeup had run into a horror-movie mask. Her wig had detached.

One of her padded inserts was missing—bobbing embarrassingly in the pool.

She'd gone from a D to an A in the space of 30 seconds.

Agnes was shaking. She was holding in laughter so hard her insides ached.

She'd been watching Vivian's group from the corner of her eye. The hostile glances. The whispered scheming.

Agnes had a sixth sense for social predators. She'd felt the setup coming.

Sure enough, here came Tiffany with her wine glass.

Agnes had been ready. The counter was swift. Tiffany never stood a chance.

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