Page 98 of The Fake Out

“It was her, right?”

“I never ask outright. Plausible deniability and all that. I merely pass on the information.”

“Smart,” he murmured.

“Last week, someone replaced all his office supplies with bananas and put the real stuff in the women’s bathroom. He was very upset about his stapler, for some reason.”

Truly. Ranted about it for two entire paragraphs in the email he sent me.

Chris laughed low and quiet. “Should I be scared of Ali?”

“Yes.” I turned to him. “You know, you don’t have to help. I would completely understand. If we get caught, Peter will not let us off easily.”

When I’d explained Ali’s phone call, he hadn’t even batted an eye. Just marched us to his truck and asked for directions.

“I want to help.”

I crossed my arms and stared down at the sidewalk. “Well, thanks.”

Uncle Joe showed up a few minutes later. A stocky man with a booming voice, he immediately started in on the sports talk with Chris. Once I got him steered back to the situation at hand, a plan began to form. I’d go with Joe around to the back door where there weren’t any working security cameras. Meanwhile, Chris would find a way to get Peter out of his office. If everything went as planned, we’d meet back at Chris’s truck and Peter wouldn’t be any the wiser.

“How are you going to distract him?” I asked Chris.

“I thought I’d ask him to be a groomsman at the wedding.”

Surely he was joking. Joe stood about ten feet away, doing something on his phone, so I grabbed Chris’s hand and half dragged him to a streetlamp where I could see his face.

“Are you kidding?” I whispered.

Chris moved closer and I realized I was still holding his hand. I’m sure if Joe looked over about now, he’d think we were in the middle of a quaint couple moment. “You’re doing that whisper-yell thing I like. Do it again.”

I ignored him. “Even if we were getting married, which we are not, Peter Stone would definitely not be in the wedding party.”

“Well, I don’t know.” He shrugged. “He did kind of introduce us in a roundabout way. Seems only fair he should be in the wedding party. He could give a speech at our reception.”

“Absolutely not.” I poked him in the chest. “This is the hill I will die on. He will not be at our wedding.”

He grinned slowly.

With a huff, I shook my head. What was I even saying? We weren’t even real-dating, let alone real-engaged, and we sure weren’t getting real-married.

“It’s so easy to get you riled up, Sprinkles.” He tapped the tip of my nose and I batted his hand away.

Joe cleared his throat. “We ready?”

With one last dirty look in Chris’s direction, I said, “Let’s go save Ali.”

“Ali?” I whispered into Peter’s empty office.

It was a spacious room with dark wood paneling and a heavy solid oak desk. Built-in shelves lined the back wall, and it was full of books chosen for their aesthetic qualities rather than their content.

Carefully, I pushed the door until it almost clicked closed. “Ali? Where are you? We don’t have a lot of time.”

A door hidden in the wall paneling swung open and Ali popped out, dressed in black. Like a ninja. “Thank God. I was so worried I was going to have to spend all night in here.”

I waved a hand. “Well, I’m here. Let’s go. I don’t know how long Chris can keep Peter busy.”

Ali smiled. That made me nervous. “I can’t leave yet.”