Better Than Revenge (Sweet Secrets #1) by Taylor Henderson

attention. I frowned as I finished pulling my hair up into a high ponytail and went to open the door.
    “I'm getting…” I started, but then trailed off as I stared at the person on the other side of the door.
    Brianna smiled at me, a wicked glare in her eyes. She gestured with her hands as she said, “Well? Aren't you going to invite me in?”
    I stared at her in confusion for a moment before pretending to be deep in thought as I brought my hand up to rub my chin. “I don't remember ordering a stripper.”
    Brianna rolled her eyes and pushed past me into my room, taking a seat at my desk chair. “I guess this will have to do.” She sighed deeply.
    “Sure, come on in,” I mumbled under my breath earning a curious look from Brianna. As if just hearing what she said, I frowned at her while saying, “Wait. What “will have to do”?”
    She rubbed her hands together as if she was washing her hands under an invisible faucet. “This room. Duh, Violet. Use a little common sense.” She tapped her pointer finger to her temple.
    “We have a guest room, Dumbo Bimbo. You will definitely not be staying in my room.” I mentally high-fived myself for unintentionally rhyming.
    Brianna shrugged her shoulders, giving me a pitying look. “That's not what your mom says. She told me that I could take a look at your room and the guest room and whichever would make me feel more at home is the one that I can use for the next two weeks.” She smiled to herself as she looked me over with scrutinizing eyes. “You would look really pretty in that dress,” she paused for a moment as her eyes inspected me from head to toe once more, “if you did something with that rat's nest that you call hair. Personally, I think you look better in jeans. They hide your cankles nicely.”
    “Very mature,” I retorted sarcastically.
    Brianna stood up, brushing her bottom off as if my desk chair was covered in dirt. “Like you can talk. At least I don't spend my time rhyming your name with stupid and childish insults.”
    A smirk played on my lips. “That's because your underdeveloped brain can't think of anything good to rhyme with Violet.”
    In response to my statement, she rolled her eyes and headed back toward my bedroom door. “Dinner should be ready soon. In about five minutes.”
    I nodded before realizing that she had her back to me and grunted in response. I busied myself by tightening my ponytail as I shuffled along after Brianna, following the thick scent of her perfume down the stairs and into the dining room. The large wooden table shone brilliantly under the light cast overhead from the chandelier. The lemony fragrance that surrounded the table made me aware that my mom had polished the table before Brianna and her family had arrived. In front of every chair was a place mat that acted as a thin barrier between the table and the fine china that my mother rarely allowed us to eat on.
    The woman in question came shuffling out of the kitchen with a wide grin painted onto her face. She was followed closely by Mrs. Richardson, whose heels where clicking loudly against the hardwood floors. Both women were carrying in extravagant dishes of food and placing them in the center of the table. Brianna smiled kindly at my mother before asking her if any extra help was needed in the kitchen.
    “You are so well mannered,” she cooed in response to Brianna's question. Her hands pulled at the strings of her apron, taking it off and folding it up neatly. “Your mom and I only have two more dishes to bring in so I think that we can handle it. You and Violet are more than welcome to tell everyone that dinner is ready though.” She gave us a small smile before she turned on her heel and strutted back into the kitchen without waiting to hear our response to her suggestion.
    Mrs. Richardson gave me a little wave before turning to follow my mom out of the room. I crossed my arms over my chest moodily as I realized that Brianna and I were left alone