Charlotte Everhart has spent the past seven years trying to bury her feelings for her childhood best friend, Jasper Scott.
So when she finds a hidden love letter from him while he is in Australia, she knows she has to tell him how she feels.
Probl...
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BEST MAN DUTIES are a completely foreign set of things compared to a maid of honor's.
There are way lesser things to do, the main bulk of her duties lying in assisting with suit fittings and planning a bachelor's party — but truthfully, Charlotte was having trouble with both. Of course, there was the issue of the best man speech, but that was something she would push away for now.
At least until it was absolutely time to face it.
Neither task had been easy, especially the suit fitting. Seeing Jasper try on different suits, ever so dashing and dapper, it was hard to ignore the twinge of regret creeping into her chest.
She wasn't supposed to be the one seeing this.
Eventually, he settled on a suit, which she was thankful for, because it meant she could stop pretending to look happy every time he tried on something new.
Then there was the matter of the bachelor party. Unlike the suit fitting, which only took an hour, going through the list of Jasper's closest friends proved to be a more harrowing process.
Calling each person takes so much longer, which is something Charlotte never would've expected because most of the people she was calling were men.
That was exactly the problem, because the moment they find out that she's the best man, they try to keep her on the phone longer than she intends to.
It's Thursday afternoon when she finds herself on the phone with the last person on the list of people she's supposed to call.
"So uh, if you need any help with anything, you know you could always call me. I'll make the time for you."
The man's voice, Chad, if she remembers correctly, is breathy and sultry — a little creepy if she was being completely honest.
"Right, okay. Bye," she cuts him off, not in the mood to entertain him anymore.
Pressing the end call button on her phone, she resumes eating the cream cheese-swirl brownie she had ordered earlier — her go-to snack whenever she was on her lunch break. With half an hour to spare before going back to work, she scrolls through her phone, looking at the floor plans her newest client had emailed her the day before.
"Charlotte Everhart? Is that you?"
She looks up from her phone.
Dark curls and matte, mocha skin, Isaac Rivers smiles at her winsomely — revealing his marbly white teeth. Impeccably dressed in a dress shirt, the cuffs of his sleeves are rolled up, showing off his herculean, veiny arms.
His body had filled out since she last saw him in college, the image of the once lanky boy now a stark contrast against the man standing in front of her.
