With the toast done, the bride and groom take a whirl on the dance floor, and I grab the seat next to my date.

Nora has turned out to be the best plus-one an undercover groomsman could ask for. She’s upbeat, fun, and always game for adventure. Flicking her wild brown curls off her shoulders as John Legend’s “All of Me” hits its last note, she tips her chin to the crowd. “So many single women here are eating you up with their eyes. It’s good that I’m here.”

“Yes, please protect me from them. If too many talk to me, they might find holes in the facade.” That’s why Gavin suggested I bring a date. Not that I’d break character, but it gave me a buffer in case any prying relatives asked too many questions.

“I’ll never let them. That’s my job as Matilda tonight,” Nora says, using the fake name she picked for tonight, since Nora loves fake names as much as she loves wigs.

“Then let’s dance. I’m only sorry they’re not playing the alt-rock laced with the banjo. That’s what your Matilda persona loves, right? Dancing to your indie tunes?”

“Dancing or hula hooping, and boy, do I love it when you let me stay in character all night long.”

“As if I’d do anything but support your dreams.”

“And I’d never break character in front of an audience,” she says.

Laughing, I offer her a hand. “Just shut up and dance with me, Matilda.”

On the dance floor, she sets her hands on my shoulders, her pink clutch resting against me. Her warm hazel eyes sparkle as she surveys the scene. “This could be you someday.”

A cough bursts from my throat. “Stranger things have happened, but it’s a safe bet it won’t.”

She pouts. “Come now. You look so good in a tux. It’d be a shame if you were never the one up there.”

“And yet it’s hardly a dream of mine.”

“Sounds like that’s more of a nightmare to you?”

More like a thing I don’t care to discuss with her, or hardly anyone. “We’re talking full-on night sweats and terrors.”

Laughing, she says, “Let’s talk about something more pleasant. Like when the groom called you when he met Savannah. I’m dying to know how that went.”

Ah, this is easier territory, since it doesn’t sting. How could it? It’s a fable. “I was first on his list. He had to share the news with his old pal from uni.”

“Naturally. And I’m sure you had so very many things to catch up on. Stories from the quad, all-nighters in the dorm.”

That’s the story we cooked up when both Savannah’s and Gavin’s parents inevitably asked about the best man switcheroo. The groom and I met in college and kept in touch even after I returned to England. And that it was a terribly tough choice between Eddie and me, but Eddie understood and was chill with it.

In this business, that’s the great thing about not being from here. It’s easy to explain a friendship no one’s heard of with a gent from another country. Oh, that’s my buddy from London. We met in school and then he returned to England, and so on.

The reality is, Gavin found me the way my other clients do: word of mouth and my website.

I twirl Nora in a circle then tug her close. “That’s the truth, and I’m sticking to it. And the truth has been very good to both of us this summer.”

“So good. It’s been the best⁠—”

She flinches as something buzzes against my back. Yanking open her clutch, she snags her phone, and her eyes widen when she sees who’s calling. “I need to take this now.”

She scurries out of the reception like she’s just learned she won an all-expenses-paid trip to Fiji.

As soon as she’s gone, a redheaded bridesmaid with pouty lips and swipe right flashing in her eyes taps my shoulder.

“My turn, handsome,” the auburn-haired woman purrs.

“Let’s have a whirl, then.”

“Mmm. I love whirls.”

I glance around the dance floor, steering the conversation toward the event. “Having a lovely time?”

“I am, but it’s better now. And I bet we could find a way to make it even more fun.”

“Hmm. That would be tough when it’s already beyond a barrel of monkeys.”

“I bet I could find a way. I know how to make nights real fun.”

I do my best to sidestep the pass. “I’m best during the day, personally.”

She tries a new line of attack, gesturing to my bow tie. “You sure know how to wear a tux.”

“Thank you. I’m proud of my ability to dress myself too.”

“How are your undressing skills though?”

“Still working on shoe untying, but I’m pretty solid on the rest of it.”

“Did you enjoy the cake? I thought it tasted like sin.”

“Or maybe like heaven,” I try, deflecting yet again as she makes another attempt.

“But the frosting was yummier,” she says. “I’d like to take some home with me.”

“They probably have doggie bags.”

At the end of the song, she nibbles on the corner of her lips. “Let me be straight with you, Jay Bond. I’d really like your digits.”

“Double-oh-seven.” Well, she started it.

“How about the real ones, Mr. Tall, Dark, and British?”

“Thank you for your interest, but I’m involved.”

“Too bad. I wouldn’t mind fucking you and your accent.”

“Well, we are a package deal,” I deadpan.