With a mocking grin dancing on her lips and a trace of pity in her eyes, Phoebe Walker stared at Nia Mitchell.
"Nia, you wouldn't be skipping the event because you can't afford an evening gown, would you?"
Phoebe mused internally, So that's why she's decided not to go and embarrass herself. The reason makes perfect sense; it's exactly the kind of worry someone like her would have.
Nia Mitchell clenched her fists, fighting the urge to lose her temper as she spoke to Phoebe.
"It's just a birthday party. If I have to go, I'll go."
Nia gritted her teeth. If I don't agree, she'll likely keep nagging me.
"Good. I'll be waiting to see you and your husband there, then," Phoebe said.
Mentioning Nia's husband again, Phoebe felt she'd found her vulnerability.
Her husband is probably the last person she wants anyone to mention, Phoebe thought, a mental image swiftly forming: a penniless, short, ugly, old man. Hmph, only someone like that would be a match for Nia Mitchell.
