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The Best Man




  The Best Man

  Michelle Lee

  ebook Edition

  Copyright © 2014 Michelle Lee

  All rights reserved.

  The right of Michelle Lee to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act of 2000

  The work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act of 1968, no part may be reproduced, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN: 1494859475

  ISBN-13: 978-1494859473

  Cover design by Jada D’ Lee

  Cover image by jackethead through Depositphotos.com

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  About the Author

  For my husband. You love me and all my crazy. And let’s just say there’s a lot of crazy to love. (you can say that again)

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  First, I want to again thank my family. My daughter, Jordan and my husband, Shawn. You both have been so supportive and I can’t thank you enough. I love you both with all my heart and soul.

  A big, huge ass thank you to Lori. It seems like forever ago when I mentioned to you I had an idea for a story, but was scared to do anything about it. You gave me the strength, courage and encouragement to but my idea down on paper and share it with everyone. Thanks to you, the world will know of Kassidy and Ryan’s story. Love you.

  To my work family, Amy, Channon, Shannon, Karen, Sarah and Joann who continue to support and encourage me on this crazy ass journey into the world of writing I’ve decided to jump into head first.

  To Jenny. Hey friend. Wow, woman you’ve helped me out so much yet again. Thanks so much for all you’ve done, continue to do and will do. Yep, your skills will be needed again. Your support and friendship mean so much.

  Dodi, my Pea. Miles me nothing when we are rockin’ the pod. You knew this story when it was just an idea and you’ve helped more than you know to help change it into something more. I love you!

  To my online friends, especially the amazingly talented Jada D’ Lee, who once again has made the most perfect cover and has supported me since my first novel. To Suzie, you know how amazing I think you are and again thanks so much for EVERYTHING. To Jaida, over at Our Fictional Boyfriends, your support means everything to me, I can’t thank you enough. I think Ryan makes the fictional boyfriend list. And to Nikki over at Blissfulbook Blog, you are so supportive, I can’t thank you enough!

  Finally, to my readers. I can’t thank you enough for reading my stories and loving the characters almost as much as I do. I wouldn’t be doing this if it weren’t for you.

  Hugs and Love, Michelle

  PROLOGUE

  Hi, my name is Kassidy Marshall, and I am crazy. That’s what I would be standing up saying if there was such a thing as Crazy Anonymous. I was never like this before, not until he came into my life. Before him, I was a head strong, confident, career-focused, and slightly obsessed with shoes and shopping woman who didn’t need a man and quite frankly, didn’t want a man in my life. My life was perfect. I had amazing friends that I could depend on and who got me, I was great at my job and loved it; I had everything I needed or didn’t need.

  Speak for yourself.

  See? That right there is the reason I’m crazy. Since I ran into “the asshole” my inner self has become quite vocal. I mean, I always had a tendency to talk to myself, work things out in my head, and weigh the pros and cons of every situation. It’s an innate factor being a lawyer and coming from a long line of family members in law enforcement.

  Or being a control freak.

  I am not a control freak. I feel my inner self give me that questioning look like “you’ve got to be kidding me”, and she’s right. Okay, maybe a little. I just like things in…order.

  And I do like and need things in order. I can’t help it. I even have panic attacks if I attempt to leave my office after a hellacious day and papers are all over the place. Or a drawer is open. Or a file is not in the cabinet. Things have their place and every place has a thing. I can’t help it. I’m just wired that way. Although my inner self at times thinks otherwise.

  I think you’re anal and controlling.

  I just like things a certain way.

  Yeah, the crazy way.

  I wasn’t always this intense I guess would be the right word or crazy for that matter. I have my quirks but since he came into my life crazy is all I seem to be. I’m totally out of control which practically causes me to break out in hives. I was just fine before…before everything.

  Oh, please, you were anything but fine. You had work and work and work and the occasional outing with friends and endless dates with BoB.

  Exactly, fine, which I see nothing wrong with it. Although yes, BoB has gotten more use than necessary. But I just don’t have the time or need to date. Guys in general aren’t…well they aren’t…let’s just say they aren’t worth it.

  You’re delusional, crazy and anal actually.

  Oh. My. God. Enough already!

  See, again, this is why I’m crazy. This is why I question my insanity every minute of the day. This is why I find him completely and utterly annoying. I never had knock down drag out fights with my inner self prior to him bumping into my life.

  Oh, please, I’ve always been here you just chose to ignore me and once he walked into our lives, and thank God he did, I had to speak up otherwise…

  Zip it.

  See, arguments.

  Anyway, my life was just fine and going the way I wanted it to, until my best friend asked me to be her maid of honor, all until she insisted along with her and the groom, the best man and maid of honor dance a special dance, all until Ryan Davis came charging into my life and turning it completely upside down. It all started at lunch one day…

  CHAPTER 1

  “I swear to God, I’m going to throw my phone at her when I get there and then take scissors to her closet,” I yell at no one in particular. My phone has been beeping non-stop for the past hour thanks to Chloe. I am running late as usual—occupational hazard when it comes to my social life. What social life? You’ve got that right. Great, now my inner ramblings have an opinion. I haven’t really had a social life since I started working at the firm and the senior partners have taken a notice to me. Who am I fooling, even in college I didn’t have much of social life; I was nose deep in my school work—focused on my ultimate goal—becoming an attorney at a prestigious law firm. So, opting not to have a social life seemed to be an easy decision; although there are times I miss the idea of going out and just relaxing one way or another. You and me both. But honestly, I have no regrets. I love my job. I love my friends—they get me. I wouldn’t change a thing. Oh, I would. We need to get out more and maybe find us a man. I really need to buy a muzzle for my inner-self. Just try it, Missy. See, muzzle, definitely need one.

  Anyway, I am on my way to have brunch with Chloe and her fiancé, Jason. Chloe is my oldest and dearest friend. We are more like sisters a
ctually, having grown up together since we were practically out of diapers. Our friendship is easy going and Chloe understands I am a workaholic because she is somewhat of a workaholic herself. Chloe works as a personal shopper for some of Beverly Hills’ richest, and she is really amazing at it. It is great having a friend who shops for a living, not because my fashion sense is lacking, I know how to put together a hot ass outfit perfectly. I just don’t have the time to run around to find that perfect outfit and then all the essential accessories to finish the look. I let Chloe play dress up with me, especially when I am the same size as some of her clients and she wants to see how an outfit looks all together. I am just grateful she is willing to do some shopping for me or decides what she thinks would be for a client is better for me; saves me the hassle. So, having a friend that loves to shop and dresses people for a living—not a bad thing.

  I don’t know how Chloe does it, really; juggling work and a social life. She’s either wrapped up in clothes and her clients—some of them are beyond demanding—or Jason. Chloe and Jason have been dating for a few years when he finally decided to pop the question. Honestly, I didn't think he was going to wait so long to ask her. As reserved as Jason is, he isn't when he’s around Chloe. He's absolutely mad about her and vice versa, and it is obvious when they are together. They are really sweet—not that nauseating sugary sweet that makes you want to vomit—just nicely sweet—purely in love sweet. If you would date we could be in just sweet love too. I’ve learned just ignoring my inner self is best practice, although at times it’s extremely hard.

  Anyway, I am meeting them for brunch to go over wedding plans, and of course I am running late. I hate being late, but I was wrapped up in putting the finishing touches on my closing arguments, and I lost all track of time—another occupational hazard. I have a promising career as an up and coming lawyer at Sanders, Levi and Remington. No one is surprised that I went to law school; after all, my dad, is a retired FBI agent.

  Apparently, law enforcement is something that runs in my blood—my grandfather was a police officer and so are my dad’s two brothers and both of their sons. I love being a lawyer and I am good at it. Granted, I have only practiced law a few years, but I am headstrong and somewhat of a natural. My dad always said I could argue and win till the cows came home. The senior partners are beginning to take notice. I know I won’t make partner anytime soon, but I am thrilled they are recognizing my accomplishments and me. I am sure to win my latest case; one Mr. Sanders had given me, personally. An honor I take extremely seriously.

  Finally, I arrive at the restaurant, and I immediately spot Chloe and Jason. They aren't hard to miss. She is quite stunning with flaming red hair and bright green eyes, and a personality that lights up and fills whatever room she is in. Jason is very good looking; straight out of an Abercrombie and Fitch ad. He has wavy blond hair and deep, expressive blue eyes, the kind you can get lost in, and Chloe always does. He is snuggling her neck, and she is giggling. They really are sweet, and seeing them so happy brings an instant smile to my face. As I stare at them a few seconds longer, Chloe finally looks up momentarily and notices me. She waves me over, her smile wide, her eyes bright. I make my way to their table and join them in the middle of their conversation. We say our hellos and I take my seat. The conversation flows as if I have been there all along.

  "Davis is coming in a week," Jason continues from where it seems he left off before I arrived.

  "Good, I won't have anyone in the wedding party wearing off the rack." Chloe wouldn’t have it any other way. God forbid someone wear off the rack; oh the horror.

  If Chloe has her way, she will dress not only the wedding party, but all the guests, too. My best friend has designed her dress and mine. She has aspirations of being a designer, but since it’s such a hard business to crack she’s happy—for the mean time—to be a personal shopper. She has actually designed a few dresses for a couple of her clients—I feel like a proud momma with her success.

  As Chloe's best girlfriend, I have the distinction and privilege of being her maid of honor. An honor I cherish and take very seriously. When she asked me after crying the words out, I couldn’t say anything but yes. She had questioned did I ever have a doubt, and honestly I didn’t. We have a long standing pact from when we were eight. We made a promise that we were going to be each other’s maids of honor when the time came. Even back then, Chloe had her wedding practically planned out to the very last detail. Although, I highly doubt Keanu Reeves will be officiating, and she’s not marrying Johnny Depp.

  So, Davis is coming, I am finally going to meet the best man. I've heard enough about him. Jason and the best man, like Chloe and me, are best friends. They've known each other since elementary or middle school. He lives back East in Chicago, I think. Jason calls him Davis, although that isn't his first name. Jason and his friends have a weird habit of calling each other by their last name. For the longest time, I thought Jason's name was Anderson. Chloe had finally explained it was some dumb guy thing—what did I know about guy things? Nothing really, since you haven’t been out with one in…forever. One of these days I am going to strangle my inner voice. The bitch can be so damn annoying and at times, she makes me think I am totally losing my mind; especially when I answer back.

  Brunch is very informative. And as always, Chloe is in complete control. I am told of the shoes, earrings, bracelet, and necklace I will be accessorized with, as well as when my mani, pedi and hair appointments are. These are things I expected. What I didn't expect is Chloe has arranged for Davis and me to be a part of their first dance. Chloe has seen this show on YouTube or something where engaged couples work with a dance instructor to perform their first dance in a unique way. She tells me of one episode where the couple dances to the '80s band Poison, air guitars and all. Chloe is going to torture me. I will do anything for her but dancing, unfortunately I really don't have a choice. I am no dancer and she knows it, but won't take no for an answer. Chloe always gets her way, so there really is no use arguing; even though that’s what I do for a living. I pray I never have to go up against Chloe in a court of law; that’s one case I will most definitely lose.

  "When is this dance class?" I ask hoping against all hope that it isn’t anytime soon.

  "Next Saturday around eleven. Davis gets in late Thursday night," Chloe informs me.

  "I might have plans."

  "You can cancel them. You're not getting out of this one that easily, Kassidy Lillian Marshall. This is my special day, and this is what I want."

  Ooooo, she just full-named you. You are in trouble.

  Hush you.

  Yep, the nuthouse is definitely in my immediate future.

  "And Chloe always gets what she wants,” I reply on autopilot; it’s a response I’ve memorized.

  "It's just easier if you remember that first rather than argue with me." She smiles brightly knowing she will always win. Then this seriousness washes away her smile and she reaches across the table and grabs my hand.

  “You know I love you and I don’t want you to do anything just because I want it. You know that right? I…I just want things to be perfect and if you are totally uncomfortable with this, my day won’t be perfect and I won’t push. I just need and want my best friend there by my side.”

  That cry lump finds its way to my throat and I force it back down in order to answer her, “I love you too. And no, this isn’t that uncomfortable for me and I want your day to be whatever you want it to be. So I’m in—all in. I'll be there at eleven with bells on."

  The smile that she gives me is enough to make me forget about dancing and embarrassing myself. There isn’t a thing in the world I wouldn’t do for Chloe and I know it is the same for her when it comes to me. We have our moment and then Chloe is right back to herself and continues with going over more details of the wedding. Jason’s hand finds hers and he just smiles at her. Chloe and Jason are definitely one of the lucky ones. I sit and listen and absorb all I can as we continue to have brunch knowing a li
ttle embarrassment never killed anybody.

  CHAPTER 2

  Finally it is Friday night, and I am going out with my girls for the first time in a long time. Praise, Jesus! I can’t believe I actually have the time to. You and me both. Besides Chloe, Macy is my other close girlfriend. The three of us just clicked when Macy started attending Jackson Middle School in the middle of sixth grade. From that point on we were known as the “Three Amigas”. It’s always been the three of us—a little family. If I didn’t have them, I’d probably be one of those crazy ladies with twenty cats and living all alone with no contact with the outside world. Sad but true. They just get me. They’ve always been there for me, and I can’t imagine my life without them.

  The two of them want to go dancing at some club. Great. They love to dance, me not so much. It’s not that I don’t really like dancing per say, it’s just that I don’t like the way I look as I dance. I have caught my reflection one time too many and I look like a cross between Elaine from Seinfeld and someone having a seizure. So, I rather just save myself the embarrassment before it happens and my friends’ as well. Although, they’ll tell me I’m being ridiculous, but I think that’s just the Cosmos talking when they say that. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t deny them; especially when they tagged teamed me on the phone earlier this week.

  “Come on Kas, you know you’ll have a good time. We won’t make you dance too much, pinky swear. Two or three songs maximum.” Macy is first to attack. She is always the set-up.

  Then the closer, Chloe, takes her shot. “You know those Jimmy Choo’s you’ve been eyeing for a while?”

  “Yeeessss?” I can’t help but be on guard because Chloe immediately went with the big guns, knowing how much I covet those shoes.

  “If you go, they’re yours.” I can hear the satisfaction in her voice.

  After a few pleases from them and a few more grunts from me I caved. The high pitch squealing that ensued probably attracted every pooch in the neighborhood. Yes, I am a pistol in the courtroom, but when it comes to my two best friends, I am usually rendered speechless with no defense or rebuttal. They always win; which is extremely irritating.