Chapter 3 Voicenote Incoming...

Chapter 3: Voicenote incoming...

The Next Day...

Mom:

"Can't wait to see your fiancé, sweetie!!"

Aunt Carol:

"Omg!!! Chloe said he's GORGEOUS."

Chloe:

"Eeeee! So happy for you, Sav!"

I rolled my eyes at the last two messages in the group chat. It's not as if Chloe knows what Roman looks like- except now that she's actively stalking him on social media.

Just like her husband-to-be.

The clatter of keyboards filled the office. Phones ringing left, right and center. The smell of caffeine and papers thick in the air.

I sat at my desk, trying to look busy while my phone wouldn't stop vibrating. If this continues, I'm certain my boss, Terry Goldberg wouldn't hesitate when handing me my sack letter.

Another message popped in, my colleagues gave me the stink eye as I finally decided to turn it off.

New Hope was on fire. Word had spread like pollen in spring...

'Savannah Hart was coming back with a man. For the second time in her life'.

With a fiancé this time. With Roman Blackwood.

My ex was getting married and I'd panicked myself into the lie of the century. And now there was no turning back.

A knock landed on my desk.

I blinked up.

An intern hovered with an elegant black box that looked heavy. The kind of box that whispered, there's wealth in here.

But on a more intense look, bombs are usually packaged this way too.

"Delivery for you."

I stared. "Is it ticking?"

The intern shrugged. "If it is, it's ticking in cursive."

I eyed the box suspiciously. "Does it say who it's from?"

The intern shrugged. Again.

My colleagues began whispering and craning their necks to get a better look.

"Great. Thank you."

The box wasn't heavy as I expected as I looked for an empty cubicle to lock myself in.

I set the box down in an empty stall and unwrapped the package that came with no card.

It was a silk dress. The type that clung onto your skin like a good scent.

This was not just any dress. This was THE dress.

A stunning emerald green, low necked, bare-backed showstopping dress with a decent thigh slit that announced the wearer's arrival without saying a word.

Wow

Beneath the dress lay the note I was looking for earlier in smooth, clean strokes of ink that smelled expensive.

"Figured if we're going to sell this, you need to look like heartbreak in heels. You don't have to sell your car...

– R."

My hands trembled as I read the note three times. Then I called him...

He picked up on the second ring. "You got it?"

My voice came out cracked. "Roman... This dress looks like it belongs on a red carpet. Not in New Hope."

"Exactly."

"I didn't even think you were listening to me last night."

"I'm always listening to you."

I swallowed. "How much did this cost?"

"Enough to ruin your sister's day."

I paused, then laughter slipped out of my mouth.

"You're insane," I whispered.

"You're welcome," he replied smoothly. "You're not walking into that wedding looking like a cautionary tale. You're walking in like a fucking event."

My heart thudded. "I could kiss you."

"You will," Roman said, calm. Steady. "In front of your entire family. Repeatedly."

"Oh, God... you make it sound worse when you say it that way." I groaned.

"And your ex too." Roman added.

"That, I'm excited for." We laughed. "He's still texting you?"

"Surprisingly, yes. I get the vibe he suspects we're lying or one of us is using the other."

"What?"

"The dude does know you though... on a much deeper level." He winced.

"What do you mean?"

"He claims to be happy for us but he turns around and lets me know you used to tell him that you'd never date a guy like me. What's up with that?"

My palms became sweaty. "And what'd you say?"

"Me? I just told him how much fun he must be at therapy."

I burst out into laughter in the middle of the bathroom stall. "I can imagine his face."

"You know you could have picked Colin from Eastview Firm? Or Ethan from HR..." Roman suggested. "The more mysterious, the better."

"They're both my exes. Everyone on that darn group chat knows when I broke up with both of them. Besides, Ethan only lasted long enough to serve one purpose."

"Gross... don't remind me."

I can imagine Roman wrinkling his face in disgust.

"Where are you anyways? You're not in your office, are you?"

"Nope. Considering my leave was squashed two hours after it began, I'm savouring what I can before I'm thrust into Hart family drama."

I winced. "I'm sorry."

He playfully brushed it off. "All fun is good fun, love. I'll try to enjoy New Hope."

"I doubt that."

"Baby," Roman said, voice warm and low, "I'm about to be the realest fake man you've ever had."

"I can't wait."

"Well, I gotta go, there's a hot blonde winking right at me. I'm about to get lucky... I'll text you later, love!" He hurriedly said before hanging up.

Typical Roman

I placed the dress against my body in front of the office mirror and took a selfie, typing across a message to attach to it before sending it to the bride of nightmares.

"Hey, Chlo, just checking-this the exact green you wanted, right? I know how you get about shades."

I pressed send and breathed out as the three dots danced across the screen.

Suddenly... it disappeared.

A mic icon appeared in its place...

Voicenote incoming...

I hesitated for a whole freaking hour, then hit play.

Nothing good ever happens when Chloe sends voice notes.

"Sav, I think that dress is a little too low-cut. It looks like you're... seeking attention?

You're going to look like you're trying to upstage me, Savannah. Not like that's even possible, but then... I just had to be honest.

That color's too... dramatic. I didn't know it'd be this prominent when I imagined it. But I'll take that fault.

And honestly, sis, that dress looks too good for you. And what's with that slit? Would your pride survive if your vertigo knocks you around a little bit? Well, you're one tough old cookie, Sav."

Pause.

"How did you even afford that dress? Never mind. I don't want to know the gory details. Gotta go! Love you, sis!"

My hands trembled. My breathing turned erratic.

How dare that little witch.

Oh, Chloe, this isn't a wedding anymore, this is war.

And may the best groom win.