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.
As guests straggle out an hour later, Nora tells me she’ll wait for me on the sidewalk, and she can’t wait to share her news. I make the final rounds, saying good night to the deejay and the bartender; the mother of the bride; the mother of the groom; and Eddie, who wiggles his eyebrows and points to the doorway, thanking me profusely in a series of dude, dude, dudes. As it happens, I’m conversant in Dude. He’s getting lucky tonight.
“No problem, mate. Happy to help.”
“You are the best man. You are the motherfucking best man.”
And what can I say to that but dude.
“Also, she likes scars, so I am in luck,” he whispers as he leaves, making his way to a redhead—the same bridesmaid who danced with me. I’m glad she found someone to bang. Good on her.
“Hey, sugar,” he says.
“Hey, babe. Let’s get down to business, because I’m in the mood for screwing you and your scar.”
Well, looks like someone has a signature pickup line.
I head into the hallway of the brewery, Gavin close behind me.
“You killed it out there. I’m almost glad Eddie has no filter.” He pokes his head out the door, checking the scene in the reception room. “Coast is clear.” He hands me an envelope with the rest of the rush fee in it.
