Unmasking My Best Friend

My friend, who started working right after school, married a wealthy man and became the envy of everyone in our social circle.

However, the guys she introduced me to for blind dates were all unattractive and low-quality men.

She would always say, “You shouldn’t be so picky. If someone wants you, just marry them!”

I never told her that I had started my own business and made a fortune.

At a celebration she threw for her newborn son, she publicly introduced me to a bald, divorced man with a kid.

I refused.

Frustrated, she asked if I was secretly interested in her husband instead.

I didn’t respond. I simply had my assistant fire her husband from the cushy job I’d given him at my company.

Since she had always seen me as a frenemy, I decided there was no point in continuing to pay her husband just to keep her happy.

——

I had just signed a deal worth fifty million dollars when I noticed that I had missed dozens of calls from my “best friend,” Jane Marshall.

Curious, I called her back.

The moment she picked up, Jane’s voice was filled with frustration.

“You are so ungrateful! I was trying to help you by setting you up on dates, but you don’t answer my calls or texts. What’s wrong with you? All that education must’ve made you stupid!”

I responded with a few neutral sounds while opening her text. One look at the guy she set me up with made my stomach turn.

Did she think I was desperate?

The man in the picture had a face full of acne scars, and honestly, I was half-convinced I’d drop dead from shock.

Swallowing my annoyance – after all, she had just given birth – I declined politely. “I don’t think it’s a good match.”

Her response was even more hysterical. “Do you even know how old you are? You think you have options? A PhD means nothing – you’ll still end up popping out kids just like me. Look at me! I married up and skipped a few steps on the ladder. Men who make money don’t have to be handsome…”

Jane’s rant continued, and as she spoke, a wave of irritation washed over me. We had known each other for nearly thirty years, but for the first time, I felt real disgust.

I interrupted her. “So, in your mind, that’s all I deserve?”

“What’s wrong with him? Sure, his education is lacking, but he has a house, a car, and a decent business. Don’t be so superficial!”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I hung up.

When she called again, I turned off my phone.

Looking back, Jane had been eagerly setting me up with these “matches” for years. Out of respect for our friendship, I would at least entertain a few conversations with the men she introduced me to, even if I wasn’t interested.

But seriously – every single guy she picked was worse than the last, like she had a knack for finding the most unattractive, low-quality men.

Later, I got home to find a delivery of strawberry cake, along with a card.

It was from Jane.

“Don’t be mad, Bree. Come to my baby’s party tomorrow!”

For a moment, I felt touched.

Then, a new message from her popped up.

“Make sure to dress nicely. I have another great guy to introduce you to!”

Annoyed, I quickly typed, “Please, stop setting me up.”

Right then, my assistant called.

“Ms. Lee, should we still be paying John his usual salary? He’s been slacking a lot recently...”

John was Jane’s husband.

When I started my company in college, I hit the jackpot during a booming market and made a fortune.

After gaining financial freedom, I had been generous to those around me.

I was slow to warm up to people, so Jane was the only real friend I had. She had married young, right after high school, and her husband, John, was equally unqualified and unskilled.

To ensure Jane didn’t struggle, I’d given John a cushy job in one of my departments, paying him $10,000 a month to do practically nothing. The only condition was that he treated her well.

Thanks to my influence, John was a model husband to Jane. And despite our friendship, I never told her how successful I had become.

Out of consideration for our friendship, I never told Jane that I had successfully started my own business and achieved financial freedom long ago.

Under normal circumstances, I would’ve brushed this off, but Jane’s next message sent me over the edge:

Jane: [Tomorrow, I’m setting Bree up with a balding old man. This is going to be hilarious. You guys better show up!]

She had sent the message to me by mistake.

“Ms. Lee? Are you still there?” my assistant cautiously asked.

I took a deep breath, telling my assistant to wait for my call.

I had been too blind for too long. Since Jane saw me as her punching bag and wanted to play games, I was about to change the rules.