AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Our eventual arrival at the fundraising gala isn’t minded by the paparazzi or the welcomed press; however, it is noted and immediately criticized by Evie who appears one wrong blink away from having a full-blown panic attack.
“Are you two trying to kill me?” Evie hisses under her breath, cornering us near a sparkling champagne tower. “Do you find my misery amusing?”
My fiancée drops her jaw to bite back prompting me to quietly murmur, “They’re rhetorical questions, Bryn.”
“I instruct an 8:46 arrival time, I expect an 8:46 arrival time, yet it isn’t 8:46, is it?”
She gestures a stern pointed finger over her shoulder which encourages Jenni to pop into the conversation. “It’s 9:32.”
“9:32!” airily shrieks our publicist. “9:32 Wilcoxes! Do you have any idea how much territory you are behind on covering?”
Bryn cracks her mouth open a second time, which pushes me to whisper the reminder, “Still a rhetorical question.”
“And why are those in my face?!” Evie unhappily wags a finger back and forth in front of my date’s cleavage. “How many times do we have to go over simple not showy?”
“Is that a real question or are we still swimming in rhetorical waters?” she juvenilely asks the huffy elegantly dressed woman in front of us.
Jenni peers around her boss’s arm to smoothly state, “I think you look top cheddar.”
“I don’t know what that means, but I like the way it sounds,” confirms my favorite sparring partner on a sly smirk.
“If you try to sleep with her, I will fire you,” Evie less than smoothly scolds.
“Jenni is Evie’s new assistant,” I announce as I slide my arm possessively around the small of Bryn’s back.
“What happened to Dina?”
“Dina was unprofessional, Pruitt was perverted, and while Jenni may have the vocab of a frat jock-”
“Hockey player.”
“-she can keep up and keep going, which is exactly what I need especially on nights like this one.” Evie releases an exasperated sigh and gestures an open palm towards Bryn. “Could you at least pull your dress down?” Her head tips condescendingly to one side. “You’re currently running the risk of sharing your ass with an entire room full of people who often pay to see one that perfect.” There isn’t time to even consider responding. “Seriously. You would not believe the shit some of these politicians shell out cash for.”
Intrigue darts into Bryn’s wide-eyed gaze. “Sexually?”
“Sexually. Spiritually.” She reaches for a flute from a passing server. “Sexual things they’re passing off as spiritual.”
More thrill thrums through her glare to which I have to shake my head in order to prevent her from asking additional questions.
I don’t need to be loudly discussing other people’s sex lives.
Especially not at a charity event aimed at raising funds and awareness regarding neurodivergent children in low-income brackets.
“Dress down.” Evie insists again on a finger flick that’s followed by a point to my shoulder. “Lint off.” She sways her beverage closer to her lips as I remove the issue. “Rotate the room counterclockwise, putting you at the bidding area first and ending with the open bar last.”
“Fine by me,” Bryn unexpectedly concedes. “I have no interest in drinking tonight.”
Her odd declaration causes me to quirk an eyebrow. “That’s new. You usually need at least one glass of something to get through these. Are you ill?”
“Stomach is a little off again.” She leans lovingly closer. “I couldn’t even keep down my lunch from Little Soup of Horrors. Don’t wanna push it.”
Concern does its best to be tucked away, something that’s made slightly more possible due to Evie suspiciously investigating, “And your afternoon vomiting adventures passed along by an ‘inside source’ were related to that and not the reports that’s you’re becoming bulimic in order to fit into your dream wedding dress, correct?”
It’s impossible not to snip, “What inside source?”
“What dream wedding dress?!” Bryn scoffs in disbelief. “I haven’t even started looking!”
Our publicist responds to neither question. “Your stomach being upset was caused by food poisoning?”
