From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Voicenote Incoming…**

**The Next Day…**

Mom’s excitement radiated through the group chat, her message a burst of energy that made me smile despite myself.

“Can’t wait to see your fiancé, sweetie!!”

Aunt Carol chimed in, her enthusiasm palpable.

“Omg!!! Chloe said he’s GORGEOUS.”

And of course, Chloe couldn’t contain her glee.

“Eeeee! So happy for you, Sav!”

Rolling my eyes, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of irritation and amusement at the last two messages. It wasn’t like Chloe had ever laid eyes on Roman—her knowledge of him was limited to her relentless social media stalking, much like her husband-to-be.

The office buzzed with the frenetic energy of a typical workday. The rhythmic clatter of keyboards created a symphony of productivity, while phones rang incessantly, each tone a reminder of the chaos. The air was thick with the rich aroma of coffee mingling with the musty scent of paper, a combination that usually fueled my day.

I sat at my desk, attempting to project an aura of busyness while my phone vibrated with relentless urgency. If this kept up, I was convinced that my boss, Terry Goldberg, wouldn’t think twice about handing me my pink slip.

Another message chimed in, and I could feel the curious stares from my colleagues boring into me. I finally decided to silence my phone, hoping to quell their prying eyes.

New Hope was buzzing with gossip. Word had spread like dandelion seeds in the wind…

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

But this time, it was a fiancé: Roman Blackwood.

The reality of my ex getting married sent a wave of panic through me, compelling me to fabricate the biggest lie of my life. And now, there was no way to backtrack.

Just then, a soft knock interrupted my thoughts, drawing my attention.

I looked up to find an intern hovering at my desk, holding an elegant black box that seemed to weigh heavily in his hands. The box had an air of sophistication, as if it contained treasures of the elite.

But a closer inspection revealed that such boxes often concealed something dangerous as well.

“Delivery for you,” he announced, his tone matter-of-fact.

I stared at the box, my curiosity piqued. “Is it ticking?”

The intern shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. “If it is, it’s ticking in cursive.”

I eyed the box with a mix of suspicion and intrigue. “Does it say who it’s from?”

He shrugged again, his indifference only fueling my curiosity further.

Around me, my colleagues were whispering, their heads bobbing as they craned their necks to catch a glimpse of the mysterious package.

“Great. Thank you,” I muttered, already feeling the weight of their scrutiny.

To my surprise, the box wasn’t as heavy as I had anticipated. I quickly sought refuge in an empty cubicle, eager to unwrap the enigma that had just arrived.

As I unwrapped the package, my breath caught in my throat. It was a silk dress, the kind that seemed to hug the body like a beloved memory.

But this wasn’t just any dress. This was THE dress.

A breathtaking emerald green creation, it featured a daring low neckline and an open back that promised to turn heads. The thigh-high slit added a bold touch, announcing my presence without uttering a single word.

Wow.

Underneath the dress lay a note, written in smooth, elegant strokes of ink that exuded a sense of opulence.

“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 over and over, each word sinking deeper into my consciousness. I needed to speak with him.

He answered on the second ring, his voice warm and familiar. “You got it?”

My voice cracked, betraying my emotions. “Roman… This dress looks like it belongs on a red carpet. Not in New Hope.”

“Exactly,” he replied, his tone unwavering.

“I didn’t even think you were paying attention to me last night,” I admitted, a hint of disbelief lacing my words.

“I’m always listening to you,” he assured me, his sincerity wrapping around me like a comforting blanket.

I swallowed hard, the weight of my next question pressing down on me. “How much did this cost?”

“Enough to ruin your sister’s day,” he replied, a teasing lilt in his voice.

A laugh escaped me, surprising both of us.

“Baby,” Roman said, his 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 hung up before I could respond.

Typical Roman.

I held the dress against my body in front of the office mirror, capturing a selfie to send 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, exhaling as the three dots danced across the screen, only to suddenly disappear.

A mic icon appeared in its place…

**Voicenote Incoming…**

I hesitated for what felt like an eternity, then finally hit play.

Nothing good ever came from Chloe’s 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 that that’s even possible, but 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 shook as I processed her words, my breathing becoming erratic.

How dare that little witch.

Oh, Chloe, this isn’t just a wedding anymore; this is war.

And may the best groom win.