Page 48 of On the Double

Respectfully, of course.

As I entered the kitchen, Fox spun around, his face smeared in avocado as he looked me up and down. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

“I’m going into battle. What else would I wear?”

He nodded. “Right. I like it. Go in with a positive attitude. What time is she coming?”

“I have no fucking clue. I don’t even have her number.”

He frowned. “Maybe you should get that before she leaves.”

“This is for one day only. Why would I need her number?”

“Just in case. Purely precautionary. You don’t want to look like the idiot who doesn’t have his fiancée’s phone number.”

He might have a point there. “Let’s get this show on the road. There’s only so long I can stand to pretend.”

“Righty-o! But first, a drink.” He grabbed two glasses off the counter that were already filled with what I hoped was alcohol. “A toast. To musicals, avocados, and fake fiancées.”

I took the glass against my better judgment and lifted it. “Sure, to all that.”

I drank down the horrible concoction, nearly choking as I swallowed the contents. It burned like hell as it slid down my throat—more like lit a torch as it blistered my insides, but I’d deal with that later.

“What the hell is that?”

“Liquid courage, my friend. You’re going to need it.”

He slapped me on the back and walked out of my house. As I stood there, it occurred to me that he spent a good hour trying to console me and get me ready for what was about to happen. Now, he was telling me I was going to need liquid courage. Which was it? Was I ready for this or was I walking into the flames of hell?

As I stepped out of my house, I had a feeling it was the latter, and I was only going to regret whatever was to come. I slid my hand into my pocket, frowning when I felt a small pouch. Pulling it out, I opened the small button enclosure and pulled out a note scribbled in Fox’s handwriting.

You can’t be pretend engaged without a ring.

The liquid courage I drank threatened to come back up as I slid a finger inside the pouch and pulled out a beautiful silver ring with a single diamond in the center. It wasn’t overly big. In fact, it was simple and old-fashioned. The intricacy of the band was more showy than the diamond itself. I looked up and saw Fox grinning at me, giving me two thumbs up.

That feeling of wanting to pass out was returning awfully fast.

I kept patting my pocket,making sure the ring was still inside the pouch.

“Relax, it didn’t suddenly get up and walk away,” Fox muttered.

“There’s a ring in my pocket,” I said in a monotone voice.

“I’m aware. I put it there.”

“You put a ring in my pocket.”

“I know. I just said that,” he chuckled as he led me through the growing crowd around the OPS building. The grills were lit outside and a spit with shawarma meat on it spun by a fire. The women were busy setting out salads and other party sides. There were buns of every shape and size. Pretzel buns, both big and small. Regular buns, Hawaiian buns, and sliders.

I wasn’t sure why I was focusing on the buns, but it seemed to help abate the growing nausea. I focused on the little things, all the while patting my pocket to ensure I hadn’t lost the ring.

The ring that didn’t belong to me. I grabbed Fox and hauled him off to the side, away from the growing number of people. “Where did you get this ring?”

He shot me a funny look. “At a store. Where else would I get one?”

“You bought a ring.”

“Uh…yeah.”