Page 3 of Enemies, Lovers & A Valentine's Baby

I open my mouth, but my voice threatens to fail me. I hate that there’s a slight tremor in it when I start to speak. Rage burns through me at his unnecessary meanness and my eyes gleam with tears.

I blink them back rapidly, doing my best to make sure they don't drop.

I will not give this man the satisfaction of watching me break.

“This table is reserved for family and close friends. You’re not meant to be—”

“And what, pray tell, would you call the best friend of the groom?” he asks smugly, crossing his arms as he waits for my response.

I’m taken aback for a second. This is Greg’s best friend? Shit! Greg and Sue are practically eloping based on the speed of this wedding. He literally proposed a month after meeting her, and here we are two months later, which is why this is the first time that I am meeting his best friend. Not the way I envisioned our first interaction.

“Your seat is right...” The words die in my throat as I notice his name card is not where it should be at the table. My mouth opens and closes repeatedly, but no words come out.

“That’s the guest list in your hand, right?” He ignores me and gestures to Katie behind me, still clutching the guest list folder in her hands.

“Check it then. Cole Matthews?” I already know what it’s going to show.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I went over the guest list a hundred times with Sue and Greg. They were very specific about who they wanted at this table. Their parents, extended family, and—Greg’s best friend who would be flying in from Seattle to attend the wedding.

How could I have missed this? I feel like I’ve gone over every detail even in my sleep! I need to make this right.

Greg had made it very clear how he felt about him. He’d gone on and on about how this guy had been his best pal since they were teenagers in high school. Apparently, his work had him in a different city every month or so, but he would be flying into Boston for the wedding.

Greg wanted me to make sure he had the best view at the wedding and would be seated with his family. Apparently, this guy was like a brother to him, and I…messed it up. I somehow didn’t reserve a seat for him.

I can tell this isn’t going to end well. This guy seems to be in no mood to hear any excuses or apologies.

Katie opens the folder, her eyes skimming over it hastily. I already know what she’s going to find even before she says the words.

“It’s…here,” she mutters reluctantly.

“Look, I’m sorry, Mr. Matthews, but—” I start, but he cuts me off again.

“But? You’re still going to try and defend your incompetence? What, you can’t even get an apology right?” He smirks, eyes gleaming at me with malicious intent.

“Sir!” Katie exclaims. “You’re crossing the line; it was an honest mistake.”

My bottom lip threatens to quiver, but I force my face into a stoic, expressionless mask.

“If you can’t even get this small thing right, then I’d hate to see what the rest of your life looks like. Maybe it’s time to reevaluate your life choices and find out exactly what it is you’re good at, ‘cause this ain’t it.” He smirks.

“You’re too old to not have your shit together, and to not have an actual talent. This,” he gestures around the decorated hall, “is not what you’re good at. It’s a crutch, because you’re too lazy to actually do anything with your life!” He chuckles humorlessly.

The dull ache in my chest morphs into this intense pain that threatens to suffocate me. My eyes brim with tears, his words piercing through me like arrows. Yet, he still doesn’t stop. How can someone as great as Greg be best friends with someone like this?

“You aren’t going to cry, are you? God. Women,” he sighs disgustedly, shaking his head.

“Always playing the victim. Always so good at manipulating to get their way,” he mutters, his own voice laced with venom.

There’s a faraway look in his eyes now, almost as if he’s talking about someone else. Only I’m the one standing in front of him.

“You’re the one who came up to me. You’re the one who tried to get me to leave my table. You’re the one who made the mistake that brought all of this on. Yet somehow, I’m the bad guy for telling you the truth.”

“Sir, you’re really overstepping—” Katie starts.

There’s a loud buzzing sound in my ears, and suddenly, a wave of nausea and lightheadedness rolls over me as my lungs struggle to take in air.

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