Stand-In Saturday (Love For Days #2) - Kirsty Moseley Page 0,46
deal we made was for the Friday night party and the wedding …” I hold my breath and wait.
Screw the deal. I just want to spend some more time with her. If she doesn’t come tonight, I’ll be gutted. The more time I spend with her, the more I like her.
I hear her laugh before she calls back, “I remember the deal, Theo. I’ll be there in a few, I promise. I’m just finishing up with my hair. I’m almost done. Ten minutes, tops. I’ll see you down there.”
Happier now after her reassurances, I smile and step back, brushing a piece of lint from Yoshi’s stuffed head. “Okay. See you in a bit then.”
As I’m about to step into the lift, I remember I didn’t pick up my phone. I left it on charge in my room. I quickly head back to get it, spending an extra couple of minutes to add some more glue to doubly secure my fake moustache to avoid any embarrassing costume mishaps.
The hallway is deserted as I walk down it and get into the lift—the lobby isn’t though. As I step out of the lift in my costume, people stop and stare, smiling, laughing, and pointing me out to their friends. I grin proudly when a stroppy-looking teenager lifts his head from his phone and takes a picture of me. The receptionist’s eyes follow my every move, her mouth hanging open. Clearly, I’m the best dressed so far. My chest puffs out smugly.
The function room for the party is at the back of the hotel. When I step inside, I’m a quarter of the way across the room before I notice that everyone is in dark suits, shirts and ties, and nice dresses.
Perplexed, I look around at a few faces to check I’m in the correct party. Maybe I’ve unwittingly wandered into someone else’s celebration instead. But nope, there’s my mother, gawping at me with her hand covering her mouth, and there’s Aunt Theresa, choking on her drink.
I spot Jared and Amy with a group of our mutual friends, all standing around, talking. Jared is in one of his nice suits; I know it well, as I’ve borrowed it enough times. Amy is in a long, sparkly black dress, her hair pulled back into an elegant twist.
What the hell are they all dressed as? Is this some joint Men in Black effort or something? If so, their effort is piss poor. I’m definitely getting a prize.
As one, the crowd falls quiet, and then the tittering and whispering begin as people stare at me with wide eyes while I swan over to my brother.
When I get to him, Jared is openly gaping at me, his mouth and eyes wide. Amy is grinning like a madwoman. Heather is just slow-blinking at me. Tim is snickering and biting his knuckle to stifle it.
Jared reaches out and puts his hand on my shoulder, his mouth now pulling up into a massive smile as he lets out a little snort-laugh. “What the hell are you dressed as? Theo! I said dress fancy, not fancy-dress!”
Realisation hits me like a bucket of ice water.
Oh Christ, I’ve fucked up.
Suddenly, people’s attention moves from me to the door. The shocked gasps and whispers double. My heart sinks, and I turn just as Lucie is walking in the door. Her eyes widen and then narrow accusingly as they zero in on me. The muscle in her jaw twitches, and her hands clench into fists at her sides.
“I am so dead,” I groan.
twelve
Theo
I raise my hand and wave. I actually wave at her—you know, just in case she can’t see the fucking green dinosaur with the fat little Italian plumber perched on top of it among the sea of posh frocks and suits. In my defence, I’m not thinking straight. A man can only think with one of his heads at a time, and right now, seeing her in her outfit, the head below my belt is in charge, not the one attached to my neck.
Luciella Gordio looks smoking hot.
I gulp and stare.
She’s dressed as Wonder Woman—not the new, modern one, but the old classic ’70s TV show one. Her strapless, fitted red top hugs and clings to every curve and has the gold Wonder Woman logo emblazoned across her breasts; the blue skirt with white stars on is short, just kissing the tops of her shapely thighs. It makes my heart stutter and my balls clench. She even has the little gold Lasso of Truth