Page 72 of The Fake Husband Play
“Don’t freak out, dude, it’s going to be okay,” College Girl says, waving as she gathers her things and heads for the door. “Sorry to ruin your coffee date, but seriously, we Stan a protective king. Keep that energy. Just like…get a social media manager if you’re too old to keep up with it or whatever. You can afford it, and you obviously need some help.”
She bolts for the door before I can inform her that I’m only a few years older than she is.
I’mold-fashioned, not old.
I’m also in deep shit with half the people I know, and I haven’t even heard from Elly yet.
Elly…
She had her phone on silent last night, too.
She might be just as in the dark as I was a few minutes ago.
“I have to call Elly,” I say, heading back to our table. “I don’t think she knows.”
“Knows what?” Parker asks as he trails after me. “That she’s your wife? Is she actually your wife? Or was that just…weird Friday night roommates-who-are-about-to-become-fuck-buddies date night energy?”
“It’s complicated,” I mutter.
“Dude.” His jaw drops. “No, way. Youmarriedthis girl? Avery is going to shit therapist bricks when I tell?—”
“No.” I point a finger at his face. “You’re not telling Avery anything. Because you don’t know the whole story. It’s not what you think.”
He snorts. “So, it’snotthat Mimi needed health insurance, so youmarriedElly so the kid would be taken care of? It’snotthat?”
I exhale. “Okay, fine, itiswhat you think. But it wasmy idea. Not Elly’s. So don’t start with ‘she had schemes’ thing again.”
“Okay,” Parker says, clearly still thinking she had schemes. “But I hope you signed a prenup. Youdidsign a prenup, right?”
“I have to call Elly. She needs to know what’s happening,” I say, ignoring his tragic sigh in response. I press Elly’s contact, cursing as the call goes straight to voicemail. “Her phone is on silent. She’s at a birthday party with Mimi.”
One of Mimi’s best friends from school is celebrating her birthday at an alligator farm outside the city. And an alligator farm isn’t a place where you want to be distracted by random calls. Knowing Mimi, Elly could turn her back for five minutes and Mimi would be trying to share her cake with the baby alligators.
“Just a second, I’m going to text her,” I mutter to Parker, my fingers already tapping—Hey. Call me when you get this. DON’T get online or check your other messages first. Just hang tight, okay? I’m coming to meet you at the alligator farm. There’s a situation, but we can get ahead of it if we put our heads together. Be there soon, chère.
“Well,that’sgoing to ensure she checks all her texts ASAP,” Parker mutters, still reading over my shoulder. “Way to be alarmist, Graves.”
I press my phone to my chest. “A little privacy, please?”
“Nope,” he says, not even pretending to be sorry. “I want to come to the alligator farm, too. I want to see the look on Elly’s face when you tell her that your weird secret marriage is now a weird public marriage.”
“You can’t come. It’s a kid’s birthday party, and you weren’t invited.”
“You weren’t, either,” he counters.
I start toward the door. “No, but my wife was, so I’m good.”
Parker falls in beside me. “Aw, you like saying that, don’t you? It’s pretty cute. Isn’t it Share Bear?”
“Very cute,” Sherry agrees. “You leaving, Parker? I can get that carrot cake wrapped for you.”
“Nah, I’m staying,” he says, stopping at the counter. “Good luck, buddy. Try not to get eaten by an alligator. Or your agent. Or Beanie.”
“Thanks, will do,” I say, lifting a hand as I reach the door.
I push out of the café into the autumn afternoon, ignoring a couple who are pointing and whispering on the next corner as I dart past them on my way back to my car.
Three million views and counting.
