I raised a brow, and Ellis only chuckled. “Don’t worry. I won’t let Martin fuck with this one.”
Nobody controlled Martin. Since middle school, Ellis and I had become masters of damage control for our best friend. But that’s what best friends did. Had each other’s backs. Always. Even when your buddy had a knack for getting himself in trouble. Even when that kind of trouble could get your ass hauled to juvie, which by some miracle, we’d all managed to avoid. Stealing, drugs, gambling, fighting. Martin had played with fire and nearly burned us all more times than I cared to count.
“Whatever you say, man.” I turned and jogged up the stairs. Fun? Probably not. But at least I’d get a few hours with my best friends and my fiancée in the same room.
Natalie
Life had a funny way of throwing mean back at you. For example, the previous day, Holden sent me flowers, albeit after he stalked me to work, then sent me twenty-five text messages. He wasn’t taking the breakup very well and had exhausted my good graces, so I forced the bouquet of roses through the shredder at work, then had them hand couriered back to the gym where I knew he would be. Mean, right?
I’m not proud of my actions. However, a full moon hung in the sky, so I blame my bout of insanity on that fact.
Back to mean…
“Your dress is gorgeous.” Lacey finished tipping our Uber driver, then shoved her phone into her Tori Burch clutch. “Hugs your chest just right, shows the perfect amount of cleavage.”
“Thanks.” I held my coat open and twirled outside the swanky restaurant, then fell into Lacey’s embrace, holding her for a fat minute and mustering the courage to go inside.
My best friend smelled like cotton candy. Under her long jacket, she wore a simple black sweater dress that hugged her voluptuous curves. Red lipstick accentuated her full lips. Her cheeks boasted a pink blush no cosmetic could mimic. Love looked so beautiful on my Lacey.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Ready.” Ready to get the evening over with.
Last thing I wanted was to dive back into the dating pool, but Lacey was so happy. So in love, lust, and all those fun things, and her guy was just the sweetest. His friends had to be awesome. Besides, Lacey would never set me up with a man unless she deemed him worthy. Her standards were far stricter than mine.
We swayed through the entrance of Bar Del Bruno, the hottest new Italian restaurant in Seattle. High ceilings. Amber lights dangling from the dark wood beams. Candles at every table. A grand piano sat nestled in a dark corner, a young man wearing a suit and a slicked-back undercut setting the mood for love, his long fingers dancing over the ivories.
“Bye-bye dating funk,” she whispered in my ear, giving my fingers a squeeze.
No sense fibbing. I acted the runway model, working my heels, swinging my hips like a pro. The greatest accessory to any outfit was confidence. I layered myself in that shit, no matter how thin the veils, my dating-game face firmly in place.
I spied Ellis first, his six-foot-three stature hard to miss, and my racing pulse kicked up another thousand RPMs. Next to him sat a handsome man. Dark red hair, tan, square jaw. Fit. Tall. His focus was aimed at the woman who sat across the table from him, her back to me, and he laughed at something she said.
Ellis’s smile was electrifying. “There’s my girl,” he announced, focused on Lacey while he pushed to stand.
The woman turned in her seat, her face coming into view. Platinum blond hair, high cheekbones, heart-shaped lips painted red. The perfect, straight nose was new. Not the inky black serpentine stare, though. I knew that glare all too well. Victoria Ford. My childhood tormentor.
See? Mean for mean.
My heart, lungs, muscles, and wits seized in one epic clunk, an old motor sputtering a final protest before rendering its host immobile. I tripped over my feet, but Lacey grabbed my arm, holding me upright, squeezing hard, conveying her own shock.
Without causing a scene, she whispered, “I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”
There was no time to run or gather my scattered defenses. Lacey disappeared between Ellis’s massive arms.
A warm hand surrounded mine. “You must me Natalie.” His voice was silk, his gaze approving.
“Hi. Hey.” I forced my attention from his paisley tie to his honey-colored eyes. Dear Lord, he was pretty. Clean shaven. Thick hair trimmed short. “Martin?”
His lips parted in an approving grin. “Nice to meet you.”
Ellis cleared his throat. “Ladies, this is Victoria—”
“Ford.” Lacey interrupted. “We know.”
Ever the faithful friend, Lacey leaned closer and rested her hand on my shoulder, giving me a squeeze. “Hi, Martin. You look great. Love that tie.” She cleared her throat and darted widened eyes toward Martin.
I realized I was still moving his arm up and down and dropped his hand.
Ellis waited for Lacey to sit before making himself comfortable, then gestured toward Victoria and asked, “How do you ladies know each other?”
Awkward.
Clueless to my discomfort, Martin pulled out the chair next to him, helped me out of my coat, and waited for me to sit, which I did, grateful to be a few feet farther from Victoria.
Much to my surprise, Victoria was the first to speak. “I tortured poor Nats all through high school.”
Her gaze covered me like a flee-infested blanket, offering temporary warmth but the promise of misery.
Lacey’s eyes narrowed, aimed in Victoria’s direction, before she turned to Ellis. “I’m more interested to know how you and Victoria know each other.”
Ellis offered Lacey a heartwarming smile. My chest deflated, envious of the adoration lighting his face. “She’s Cole’s fiancée.”
Victoria hovered her hand over the table, wiggling her fingers, showcasing a moderate-sized diamond.
“Beautiful,” I managed to squeak. “Congratulations.” Either the poor guy was clueless to her depravity, or maybe she’d snared a masochist. My heart bled for the future Mr. Victoria Ford.
Holding back my ire
