Page 14 of Accidentally Marrying the Best Man
I’m hyperaware of every word and buzzing like I’ve swallowed a battery.
We edge toward the bar, every few feet punctuated with the awkward stop-start of introductions. Most faces are friendly. Most have that faint gleam of curiosity.
Charlotte brought a man? Since when? Married? Did I know that?
I can’t blame them. I’ve never talked about my personal life. Mostly because I don’t have one. Well, I didn’t have one. My work has been my life. Plus, I’m always scared of giving people like Patricia even a single crack to aim their sharp little arrows through.
I’m collecting my third round of “Congratulations, I had no idea!” from Evan in accounting when I feel Patricia’s gaze narrow in on us.
She approaches with her usual confidence. Shoulders squared, chin high, and nails polished in a sharp, beige glossthat somehow seems both understated and deadly. “Charlotte! I almost didn’t recognize you.”
That’s a lie. Patricia’s never failed to clock me, even if only to make sure she figures out the most vulnerable spots to attack.
“Patricia. So nice to see you,” I say, trying to keep the edge out of my voice.
She’s already turning her chilly attention to Nick. “Well, well, well. Nick King, it’s been a while. But you’re as fine as ever.” Her tone is syrupy, and I instantly hate how my chest tightens at the way her eyes flick over him, just a little longer than necessary. “I didn’t know you still hang out with Charlotte. It was so nice of you to pity the poor girl in high school.”
Nick straightens slightly, meeting her gaze without blinking. “I never pitied her. I spent time with her because she was my friend.”
Patricia’s eyes actually widen, just a blip, but I see it. She recovers fast, though, placing a hand on his forearm, cocking a hip with practiced poise. “And you’re still friends, then?” She laughs, crisp as breaking glass. “I didn’t know you and Charlotte even kept in touch after graduation.”
I feel the earth tilt a few dangerous degrees. Nick’s expression doesn’t shift, but his muscles tense under my hand. “We did and she’s my best friend, now.” Nick says simply, his thumb stroking small circles against my waist, just enough to anchor me. “And my wife.” He holds up his left hand. A gold band adorns his ring finger. I have no idea when he bought that, but the effect on Patricia is perfection.
She flashes teeth. “This is your husband?” she says. You kept that quiet. I knew you were engaged, but why didn’t you tell me it was Nick—my Nick?
I hear the underlying message: I knew him first.
I have a hundred comebacks—some rehearsed since junior year—but none reach my tongue. Instead, I settle for a calm, “Ididn’t know it was important, or that you took such interest in my love life.” I lean a fraction closer to Nick, and he responds perfectly, but kissing the top of my head.
She notices, and her eyes narrow. “I was sorry to hear about your grandmother, Nick. You must be grieving terribly.”
Grandmother King passed away over five years ago, so her condolences are more than a little late.
Nick’s smile sharpens. “I had great support to help me through it.” He gives me a look loaded with private history.
She turns the conversation to mutual friends and “Do you remember when…” The sort of competitive nostalgia in which only adults desperate to prove they didn’t peak in high school engage. Nick gives her one-word answers while Patricia glances at me from the corner of her eye, assessing.
“So, Charlotte,” Patricia says, tilting her head, “you didn’t invite anyone from the office to the wedding?”
I force a smile as the mask threatens to crack. “It was a small wedding.” Truth, technically.
She tips her glass toward me in what feels like a dangerous salute. “I always thought you’d wind up with someone more… sedate.” She holds her gaze on Nick for a breath too long. “But I suppose opposites attract.”
My cheeks burn, humiliation and rage mixing like into a dangerous cocktail. Before I can answer, Nick’s voice cuts in, low and sure.
“Opposite or not, I’ve always found Charlotte attractive.” He fixes Patricia with the friendliest threat of a smile I’ve ever seen, like he’s daring her to push further.
Patricia’s mouth twitches, but she drops it, excusing herself with a “Well, I simply must say hello to Jenny from Finance…” and wafts away, perfume lingering like a challenge.
Nick turns to me, eyebrow cocked. “You okay?”
I nod, slowly releasing the cramp-like grip on my glass. “She’s the worst,” I murmur, not bothering to be subtle. “Why did you ever date her?”
He chuckles, wrapping his arm tight around my shoulders. “I was a stupid teenager, filled with raging hormones, and she developed early.”
I laugh. “Boys are stupid.”
“They are,” he agrees. “But luckily, you’ve caught yourself a mature man. Do you want me to ice her out with my devastating charm?”
