Chapter 4: Dinner for Four

“She’s my colleague, Emily.”

Emily smiled sweetly, tucking her hair behind her ear, eyes sparkling. “Hi, everyone! I’m Sam’s coworker. He’s been really great to me since I started—total big brother vibes.”

Rachel’s nails dug into my arm under the table, her smile stretched tight.

The food came out quickly—sizzling plates and bowls arranged on the table, the scent of garlic and fresh basil filling the air.

Jake played the perfect host, putting Rachel’s favorite pasta in front of her, cutting up her steak without asking, just like he’d done a hundred times before. Their glances, their inside jokes, the way they ordered for each other without even asking—I barely got a word in.

Across the table, Emily was struggling with her steak, so I swapped my already-cut slices with hers. She smiled, gratitude shining in her eyes.

Rachel tugged my hand. “Honey, pour me some water?”

I grabbed the pitcher and filled her glass, then topped up Emily’s, too.

Jake raised his glass. “I’m good, thanks, man.”

Rachel’s hostility toward Emily was clear as day. “Miss Emily, Sam’s just polite to everyone. He’s always getting misunderstood.” She shot me a look, her lips pressed tight.

Emily replied, cool as a cucumber: “That just means Sam’s too charming.”

She leaned in, dropping her voice like she was sharing a secret. “Rachel, seriously, Sam’s a hit at the office. All the women say he’s handsome, smart, and a catch. You’re lucky.”

Even I felt my face warm at that.

Rachel forced a brittle smile. “Really?”

Emily pointed at Jake. “But honestly, compared to this guy, Sam’s got some competition. Look at Jake—hasn’t taken his eyes off you all night.”

Her bluntness made Jake choke on his water. “That’s a bit much, Emily.”

The whole meal felt like walking on eggshells, the air charged with things nobody wanted to say.

Afterwards, Emily excused herself first, flashing me a supportive smile as she left.

Jake offered to drive us home, but I jingled my keys, showing I was good.

He pressed Rachel, “It’s still early—want to grab a drink?”

Rachel shook her head. “No, we’ve got stuff to do. Heading home.”

She grabbed my arm and practically dragged me to the car, already grilling me before we hit the parking lot. “Who exactly is this Emily?”

“Coworker.”

“You treat a coworker that well? Swapping food, pouring water?”

“I’m just being polite. Besides, isn’t Jake even more attentive to you?”

She had no comeback for that.

It hit me then—she wasn’t showing off the suit, she was showing off our life. And I was just the guy holding the hanger.