Chapter 4 #2
The Uber pulls up in front of the tall, brick building.
Bright lights shine onto the sidewalk through the giant glass doors in the front and I spy a valet waiting at the door.
I get out of the car and stare up at the building, breathing against the knot forming in my stomach.
Even from down here on the sidewalk, I can see the lights strung up on the rooftop and hear the music playing from what I’m fairly confident is Kate and Jason’s engagement party.
“Well,” I whisper to myself. “Now or never.”
And then I stride into the building, mentally preparing for the worst.
The first thing I spot as I walk into the massive, chic room is a waiter in a black vest and mauve bow tie holding out a tray with champagne flutes.
“Thank god,” I mutter as I approach him.
He opens his mouth, but I’m already lifting a glass from the tray and taking a sip.
He offers me an amused smile and I salute the glass to him as I continue into the room, taking in the flowers on every table and the photos of Kate and Jason plastered on as many surfaces as possible.
“Isn’t this gorgeous?” a voice says beside me. I turn and find Elise, her amber eyes scanning the shiny marble tiled floors and sparkling chandeliers. Waves of cool, damp April air blow in through the wide open trifold doors leading to the stone terrace overlooking the city.
It is a beautiful venue. I’ve been in love with it since it opened four years ago.
I’d always dreamed of having my own wedding here someday, but leave it to Kate to snag my dream venue and use it for her engagement party.
I mean, she apparently sent the venue to mom to book for an engagement party the minute she suspected she was going to get engaged, but still.
“Stunning,” I say, taking another sip of champagne, the bubbles tickling my throat as they work their way down.
Charlie swoops in, wrapping an arm around Elise and pressing a kiss to her temple. “Stunning? Are we talking about how you look tonight?”
I roll my eyes. “Charlie, can you please be disgustingly romantic when I’m not standing right next to you?”
Elise giggles and Charlie ignores me, too busy staring adoringly at his wife.
It is the kind of love I hope to find someday, but knowing that day isn’t anytime soon always leaves me with a pang in my chest. Feeling like I’m intruding on a private moment, I turn away from them, and immediately wish I didn’t as my gaze lands directly on the man I’ve been cursing for the past week.
Chef Matthews walks into the building, adjusting cufflinks on the sleeves of his crisp white dress shirt. I hate that he looks just as great in a black tux as he did in his white chef coat. His blue eyes find me in seconds and a curious expression crosses features.
What are the odds that the event he said he was catering is this engagement dinner? Another reason to be mad at the situation, I suppose. If he didn’t have to cater for Kate, maybe he would’ve done the interview with me that afternoon instead of sending back robotic written responses.
I push the thought out of my head as fast as it popped in. No sense being angry about the past, I remind myself. Focus on the future.
He continues walking in my direction, stopping just a foot in front of me.
“What are you doing here?” I hiss at him.
“Scoping out the kitchen to see if the staff need an extra set of hands.” He lifts his own broad hands in the air, wiggling his fingers.
I roll my eyes. “Obviously.”
He shoves his hands back in his pockets, his thumbs looping out the top. “What are you doing here?” he asks.
“Making sure the champagne tower doesn’t collapse to the ground.” I gesture to the corner of the room where a five-tier tower of vintage looking champagne flutes are stacked to perfection. Another phenomenally bougie touch that I’m sure Kate wasn’t willing to compromise on.
He eyes the tower, then looks back to me. “Not sure they asked the right person to safeguard a bunch of breakable crystal stemware.”
I scoff. “I am a perfectly responsible person. Just ask my sisters.”
“Sure,” he says. “Force any waiters to drop their plates this evening?”
“No, but if you don’t stop annoying me, I’ll shove you into this champagne tower and force you to shatter some glass instead.”
“Jane!” Kate calls, striding over with Jason on her arm. Her eyes quickly flit over to Chef Matthews and her smile widens. “Oh, good you’ve met Reid.”
“Reid?” I ask. He holds my glare just as long, like the first of us to look away loses.
“This is Jason’s best friend from college,” Kate continues. The words barely register and I nod in response, not breaking the stare. And just like that, we’ve entered into an intense staring contest. Or glaring contest. Either way, I’m not losing to him. Not now, not ever.
“And former roommate,” Jason adds when neither of us reply.
Jason claps Reid on the shoulder. The gesture causes Reid’s torso to bob forward and he blinks.
A triumphant smirk plays on my lips and I fight the petulant urge to shout “aha! I win!” Reid clenches his jaw and glances at Jason.
Once he snaps out of what I can only assume is irritation over losing to me, he offers his friend a smile.
“Back in our bachelor days,” Jason continues.
“So that’s how you know each other,” I say, realizing that’s how he was required to cater this evening. “It’s nice to have connections in town that can benefit you. Like a . . . caterer.”
I was going to say “great caterer,” but I’d rather pour lime juice into a paper cut than give him a compliment today.
“He’s also the best man,” Kate adds. “So I hope you two made a good first impression because you’re going to be seeing a lot of each other over the next few months.”
Reid’s gaze shoots to mine again, blue eyes wide in shock. I squeeze my own eyes shut instead of participating in another staring contest.
Perfect. Exactly what I needed.
The only man I had hoped to never see again is the best man in my little sister’s wedding.
Wonderful.