A party with a fake husband

After dragging me from the back of the limo, which was very nice, Bryson and I stood out in the October air, waiting to get to the doors. The line of people was ridiculously long, some were getting turned away. My stomach swirled with nerves.

My arm was interlocked with Bryson's as we waited to get in. The cold air nipped at every inch of exposed skin. I felt like a bowl in a China shop. I looked like everyone else, I felt farther out of my comfort zone than the moon.
"I never understand these scarf things. What are they supposed to keep warm, the crook of my elbows?" Bryson chuckled beside me.
"It's call fashion, look it up," Joe said into our earpieces.
"I hate fashion, it's very temperature incentive." I swayed back and forth, switching my weight out of nervousness and also trying to regain warmth.
"Do you want my jacket?" Bryson gently offered. I was flattered. He was on a nice streak today and I didn't know what to do with it.
"You will not!" Joe chewed our ears. "She will stay with her scarf and you will stay fully dress into your suit. This isn't freshman homecoming!" I bit my lip and smiled at Bryson. Between Joe and me, he was the one who was high maintenance. "You better not be giving her your jacket!" Joe barked after a moment of silence.
"Relax, Joe. I still have my scarf and Bryson is still fully in his tux, although I'm thinking of undoing his tie."
"Lawrence, you will not!" Bryson and I giggled as Joe almost had a heart attack. "Would you two behave!"
"We are." I leaned into Bryson, stealing his warmth. "But if I freeze to death I want to know I had some fun first." I heard him huff in my ear.

Glancing at Bryson, I sighed. His tie was actually messed up.
"Your tie is fucked, Joe would have a cow if he could see you."
"Lawrence, language!" Joe scolded me in my ear. I rolled my eyes. As I adjusted the tie, I was very aware of how close we were. Licking my lips, I tried to ignore that thought.
"What would you do without me? Look a mess." I shook my head.
"Sorry not everyone can look at beautiful as you." I met his eyes. With these heels on our faces were much closer together. I wanted to fall into his jade eyes.
"You're right, but you can sure try." The words came out huskier than I anticipated.

Finally, we made it in. Somehow we were on the long list of people allowed at this party. The room was stunning, everything was extravagant. Even breathing the air felt too expensive for me. The walls were cream lined with golden everything. No movie I had ever seen had a room as breathtaking as this one.
"Holy shit," I muttered under my breath.
"Lawrence, language!" Joe scolded me.
"Holy shit is right," Bryson whispered back to me.
"Bryson! Jeez, you two." Joe was nearly losing his mind. If we weren't so entranced with the room, we would have smiled.

Once regaining our composure, we filed in a little further. There was a staircase at the side that leads to an exclusive top tier that also had a bouncer. We didn't even both trying to go up there.
"I think I know that guy."
"What guy?" I looked around like I knew who he was talking about.
"The guy at the top with the ugly bow tie." I looked up at the second floor that overlooked the room. I saw the man he was referring to. The man looked like a younger Jack Nicolson.
"That is an ugly bow tie. Joe would hate it."
"Oh shut up." He laughed in my ear.
"How do you know him?"
"I don't know. I just recognize him." Without many contexts, there wasn't anything for me to do with that information, but I made sure to remember his face.

We spent some time weaving in and out of people, joining small groups of chatter. Bryson was much better at this than me. He was very sociable, I was awkward. He never let me leave his side and had his arm roped around me like a true husband. A slow, serenading song started to play around us. With grace, Bryson stuck out his hand, asking me to dance.
"Oh, I don't dance." He scoffed.
"You don't dance?"
"No."
"Lawrence! Is it because you can't dance or won't dance?" Joe pipped up.
"Both." I had two left feet and have embarrassed myself many times, no need to do it now too.
"You're killing me, girl!" He nearly died in my ear. Bryson was grinning ear to ear.
"I'll lead." He held out his hand but my attention was elsewhere. All around me the men seemed to stare with lust and the women with envy.
"People are staring at me," I whispered to them.
"Lawrence, you're hot. Own it!" Swallowing hard, I stepped away from Bryson.
"Go mingle!" I hissed.

I couldn't help by notice all of the available men gawking at me.
"This would make for good interviewing, too bad I'm married," I grumbled.
"Look around the room," Joe instructed. I glanced at the people around me. Lots of men by themselves and women entering the ones not available. "Women are shared in times like these. Your wife isn't really your wife, not here. She's your fact collector." With the knowledge, I looked for an easy target.

There was a man at the bar who wasn't half bad looking and about Joe's and Henry's age. He had been watching me since I walked in. His salt and pepper hair was slicked back and his matte black suit still looked freshly pressed. I made my way to him.
"I can't help but notice that you have been watching me since I walked in." The man smiled.
"Ah, you caught me."
"I knew it." I sat on the stool beside him. I had lost track of Bryson.
"I saw a gentleman offering you to dance and you pushed him away."
"I don't dance and if and when I do, he must be worth my time. I don't just accept anyone you know." He grinned wider.
"You're over here talking to me, you must find something in me you like."
"Well, that's what I'm talking to figure out."

The conversation went back and forth with easy and heavy flirtation.
"I know about your type of woman."
"My type of woman?" I almost laughed at his sincerity.
"Yes. You are gorgeous and flirtatious. Delicious, even. But you aren't here for a long time, only a good time. Your looks will fade and you'll just be married to a man of money who cheats on you with women who are just like you are now." His words jumbled together a bit. He clearly had had some alcohol. My throat squeezed and my stomach sank. What an awful thing to say to someone.
"He's talking about the person you're pretending to be Lawrence, not who you really are," Joe whispered in my ear. I snapped out of my black hole and carried on as nothing happened.
"Oh really." I crossed my legs. "Is that what is happening to you right now?" I shifted in my seat to get closed to him.
"It might be. Are you going to make me cheat on my wife?" I smiled wickedly.
"Jeez Lawrence, I can see your ass from here. Put your leg down before people see your granny-style underwear." Bryson said through the earpiece.
"You want to know a secret?" I said to the idiot in front of me but also to the other two on my earpiece. He nodded and leaned in slightly. "I'm not wearing any underwear," I whispered, the mans' jaw dropped.
"Oh my god," Bryson grumbled.
"Girl, you better be wearing some underwear in that dress. That ain't cheap and we aren't going to dry clean out your pussy juices." I had to lick my lips to stop myself from laughing. I was wearing underwear, it was a thing, but I couldn't tell them that.

Suddenly I hear a commotion to my left. My attention snaps to the man on the floor. I recognized the suit in a moment, it was Bryson. He's clutching his throat and gasping for breath. Bryson was in anaphylactic shock. A crowd was starting to form around him. I grabbed the EpiPen from my purse and sprinted.
"Move!" I shrieked as I shoved people aside. Finally, I reach him and drop to my knees. I took the pen, placed it on his thigh, clicked it, and held it for three seconds. My breathing was labored. I drop the pen and crawl to his face. "Bryson, look at me." His eyes fluttered opened and connected with mine. "You're okay," I whispered. He coughed a little. Sweat started to form in his hairline, I pushed them back off his forehead. "Sh, I got you. You're okay." I could see his chest expand and deflate more. "You're okay." A pair of black dress shoes entered my line of vision and Bryson tensed. I looked up. It was one of the men from the upper balcony, the one Bryson recognized.
"Is he alright?"
"He will be. Do you have a room I can take him to so he can rest for a moment?" He nodded.

We got Bryson to his feet and slowly made our way to a room at the back. It was away from all the people and music. Joe was screaming wildly in our ears.
"What the hell is going on! One of you better answers me now!" I was on the verge of throwing the piece out of my ear if he didn't stop. Soon, I'll have a headache.

The man helped me get Bryson on the bed then left us alone.
"Answer me!"
"Joe!" I snapped. "We're fine. Well, I'm fine. Bryson had an allergic reaction." I was annoyed and frustrated. He should know better. He could have died if I wasn't close by or if I wasn't here at all! "What did you eat?" I huffed in anger. I wasn't actually mad, I was more scared than anything.
"I don't know." He heaved too, his voice slightly horse. "Some kind of cookie."
"You know macadamia is a nut, right?" Bryson rolled his eyes.
"Yes, I'm aware. That's why I ate the other ones."
"What other ones?" I had only been offered one type of cookie tonight.
"The moon shot."
"The what?"
"Moan shot?"
"Möndchen?"
"Yeah!"
"You know what those are?" Joe said in our ears.
"Yeah, they are a German cookie. People have Americanized them as use almond flour." The cogs in my head were turning.
"Why are you making that face? Rene, what are you thinking?" Bryson propped himself up on his arms.
"Joe, send him a guest list, immediately." I started to rummage through the room.
"Rene?"
"Those cookies aren't a quick thing to make nor are they well known." I turned to him. Concerned clouded his features. "You said you recognized the man on the balcony, correct?" He nodded. "Would he have known your dad?"
"Yeah, he did! They were friends, I think."
"Look through that guest list, try and remember his name."
"Why?"
"Most people who are allergic to nuts have to be super careful. Especially, when it's a deadly allergy. My stepbrother is allergic to peanuts, we didn't even keep peanut butter in the house. Mike always made it super clear to people that Damion was allergic, I'm assuming your mom did the same?" He nodded "Someone is using your allergies against you. How and why would someone do that? That man fits the bill, we need to figure out what he's hiding."

I finished searching the room for any hidden cameras or microphones. It was clear. Bryson seemed to scroll forever before he finally stopped.
"Roy Thurman."
"Are you positive?"
"Yes, I used to call him thermos because I couldn't get his name right." I stared at him strangely for a moment. "I was seven!"
"Whatever." I grabbed his phone. Going through his contacts, I got him a glass of water to help calm his body down and hopefully calm his breathing more. I found the contact I was looking for and hit call.
"What are you-" I held up my finger cutting him off.
"Hi, sweetie." The woman answered.
"Hello Mrs. Patton, my name is Rene, I work with your son."
"Is he okay?" She panicked.
"Yes, he's fine."
"I thought he only worked with men?"
"He does, did." I shook my head. "I apologize for my bluntness, but I don't have time to explain. I need your help. Do you know a man named Roy Thurman?"
"Yes, he was a friend of my late husband."
"Can you tell me, did they have a falling out, and if so, why?" She clicked her tongue as she thought for a moment.
"They were friends and business partners. Roy, I believe wanted to get into the business of counterfeit money but my husband wanted nothing to do with that. He was an honest man. They eventually split ways."
"Thank you, that's exactly what I needed to know." I paused, looked at Bryson. "I will make sure to have your son call you later. Thank you again, goodbye." I handed back Bryson his phone. "Good luck with that cleanup." He shook his head and plopped backward.

With Joe, Bryson, and I fully aware of what was at stake here.
"Now what?" I asked.
"Just hang tight, don't make any rash moves Lawrence."
"Joe-" I started to protest.
"What are you going do, lipstick them to death?" Bryson mocked me. Whipping my dress to the side, I exposed my garter holster. "What the hell! You're actually packing at a black-tie affair?"
"Yeah, and I brought an EpiPen just in case too." I snapped. Sometimes I think Bryson forgot we don't have the luxury of just enjoying the simple things. We couldn't just dress up and go out. We weren't normal people, nor could we even been a couple; not that he wanted that.
"Thank you. You saved my life." He said humbly.
"You're welcome, that's what partners are for." We sat there at a crossroads. What do we do?
"Come on, we have mingling to do." He stated.
"I like Bryson's idea. Just mingle."
"Yes sir." I grabbed his hand and pulled him from the bed.

The ballroom was now being used for its main purpose, a dance. Scanning the room, I envied their elegance. I found comfort in men's pants and work boots, therefore, I have none.
"Come on." Bryson stuck out his hand.
"Oh no, I don't dance," I repeated myself. Shaking his head, he grabbed my hand and pulled me out to the dance floor. "No! I don't dance, because I can't." I hissed at me.
"I can, so I'll lead." I scowled at him.

Bryson was correct, he can dance. No one around us could tell I had two left feet. I felt like I was having my Beauty and the Beast moment.
"So, where did you learn to dance?"
"Uh, my father. Said I should know how to properly dance for my wedding day." His cheeks flushed pink.
"Well, he taught you well. I haven't tripped-" I spook too soon. Tripping over my own foot, I started to go down. He caught me in a dip. Our faces were inches apart. Suddenly, I understood Billie Eilish's song Ocean Eyes, it made sense. I could see every ripple of blue and green in them. Everything else seemed to be lost at sea, but just him and me. Again, I was so aware of him and how close he was.
"Man, I wish I could see you two dance," Joe said in our ears. I was snapped back to reality. This wasn't right, despite how I felt, it wasn't right. I cleared my throat.
"Thank you."
"Uh, you're welcome." Bryson returned me to my upright position. The music ended and we clapped awkwardly for the jazz band.

After a few more rounds of the room, I glanced up at the grand clock on the wall, it was approaching midnight. I felt like a mix between Cinderella and Aurora; at the last stroke of midnight, I would fall into a deep sleep.
"I'm tired." I leaned into Bryson. He snaked his arm around my waist.
"I just sent the car it should be there shortly to take you guys to the hotel for the night." Joe was a magic man, he must be a wizard!
"You're a god." I smiled.
"Thank you." Bryson and Joe said in unison, I rolled my eyes at the two of them.