Unmasking My Best Friend

Her husband, John, followed her closely, pretending to scold Jane.

“She’s still working on her PhD. It’s not easy to save up. Don’t make her spend more than she can afford.”

“That’s right, I’ve been barely scraping by lately,” I jumped in, handing Jane the toy I had prepared.

The smile vanished from her face as she questioned me, “Weren’t you going to give my son a solid gold rattle?”

I sneered, “You’re so rich, and you still expect me to give your son a gold rattle? Doesn’t seem right.”

She immediately frowned. “If you weren’t going to give it, you shouldn’t have promised in the first place. It’s really tacky to say one thing and then back out.”

I resisted the urge to slap her. Ever since she got married, it’s been one occasion after another – childbirth, baby showers, birthday parties. Each time, she would outright ask me for gifts.

When she had her third child, I gave her a large cash gift, followed by an expensive designer bag while she was recovering. Before the baby shower, she even hinted that I should get something extravagant, like a solid gold rattle.

And all of this was while she had no clue if I was actually well-off.

Jane’s demands were ridiculous.

It was as if I was a perpetual fool at her disposal.

We were about to start arguing when the event host called Jane up to the front.

She strutted up in her high heels, dressed to the nines, linking arms with her husband as they stepped into the spotlight.

After a few brief words, she rushed over to invite John’s boss, who was sitting at the head table, to give a speech.

When I saw who it was, I couldn’t help but laugh. It was Frank Stone, the general manager of one of my subsidiary companies.

Jane grabbed the microphone and called me up to the front.

“And now, let’s welcome my best friend, Bree!”

My mind flashed back to the message Jane had hastily retracted yesterday:

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

I glanced at Frank, who was indeed the “quality man” Jane had mentioned.

As I walked onto the front, Jane leaned in close and whispered, “Bree, this guy is my husband’s boss. He’s got a house, a car, and a kid. You’d be set as a mom with no hassle.”

The closer I got, the more visibly uncomfortable Frank became.

By the time we made eye contact, he was sweating bullets.

I waved my phone at him subtly, signaling for him to play along.

He caught on and gave a respectful nod.

Jane, misreading his discomfort as shyness, started up with the microphone again.

“I’m just so thrilled! Not only am I celebrating my son’s baby shower, but I’m also setting my best friend up with such a wealthy, high-status man. I really am a beauty with a heart of gold!”

The guests exchanged smirks and stifled their laughter. I snatched the microphone from Jane’s hand.

“Why do you keep tossing every low-quality man my way? Am I a garbage bin? I’m not interested.”

My blunt words left Jane stunned.

John scrambled to appease Frank, who nervously waved it off.

But Jane’s composure cracked. She threw a tantrum, pointing her finger at me.

“Don’t think I don’t know! You’ve been staying single because you’ve been jealous of me marrying well. You’ve had your eye on my husband all along!”

The host, sensing the situation was getting out of control, hurried to diffuse the tension, pulling me away from the scene.

Jane, however, tried to salvage the moment by taking the stage again.

“I just want to say to all the single ladies here, don’t even think about my husband. Not everyone is as lucky as I am, marrying a man who’s not only handsome but makes six figures a month!”

She shot a venomous glare in my direction as she finished her speech.

Unfazed, I quietly sent a message to my assistant:

“Inform John that he’s fired.”