Page 31 of Bridesmaid Undercover
She shakes her head and pushes her sunglasses up her nose. “Not so much.”
“Well, I’ll be sure to get you at some point.”
“I look forward to it.” She gives me one more once-over and shakes her head in disbelief. “Now, shall we get on with our spying?” She reaches into her purse and pulls out a set of binoculars. “I came prepared.”
“Binoculars, nice. I like how you’re thinking, Professor.” I reach into my pocket and pull out two tickets. “I got our entry fees covered.”
“Perfect.” She nods toward the entrance. “Then let’s go.”
Together, looking like complete asshats, we walk up to the kiosk, and I hand over our tickets. A khaki-clad employee scans us in and hands us a map. Once inside, we step off to the side and Everly opens the map, giving it a good look. “Shall we go straight to the flamingos or should we ride the carousel first?”
“If you think I look like a predator, maybe we should stay away from the carousel.”
She chuckles. “Very good point. So then, straight ahead to the flamingos?”
“Seems that way,” I say.
“Now, are we going to creep around the flamingos, or are we going to walk up with confidence? What’s the vibe we’re going for?”
I stroke my beard and glance toward the center of the zoo. “I don’t know, what do you think?”
“I think we need to own the disguises and almost live a second life. Really get into character, that way if she happens to look at us, you can feel confident in who you are.”
“Smart,” I say. “Okay, so who are we?”
“Think we can pass as brother and sister?” she asks.
I look her up and down and shake my head. “Not a chance in hell, not with this beak,” I say, touching my nose. “I think we’re going to have to go boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“Are you trying to say I look like a person who’d date someone wearing a shirt that says,When You Fish Upon a Star?”
I point to my chest. “Does it look like I’m the type of person who would date a mall walker?”
“It looks like your standards are low,” she says with a smirk.
“That’s neither here nor there. We have to face it—these are the cards we’ve been dealt. Maybe we should have coordinated outfits rather than surprising each other.”
She laughs. “Well, it’s a little too late for that now, don’t you think?”
“Obviously. So unless you want me to walk into the gift shop and buy a new shirt, this is what you have going for you as your betrothed.”
She winces. “I mean…maybe you could buy a new shirt…”
I narrow my eyes at her, which makes her laugh. “The fish in a top hat shirt is staying. It has character. Now, as my betrothed, I think you need to accept me for who I am and stop trying to change me or else we might have a break-up right in front of the flamingos.”
“My God, we can’t have that, we might shake the pink right out of them.” She clutches her chest in a sarcastic horror.
“Exactly.” I clear my throat. “Now, as for names, I think I would like to adopt the title Sir Phillip Minkle.”
Her expression goes flat. “There is no way someone who is wearing a shirt like that has the title of sir.”
“Uh, a guy wearing this shirt would one hundred percent have the title of sir. The fish is wearing a top hat, for fuck’s sake. That screams high class. And, if I’m Sir Phillip, then I can use a British accent. Listen to this.” I clear my throat and let out a deep breath. “Oy, look at them bloody birds.”
After a brief pause, she says, “That is the worst British accent I’ve ever heard. No one says oy.”
“Uhh, have you ever watchedTed Lasso? They say oy all the time.”
“Well, if that’s the case, I’m going to call myself Bindi Brown and use an Australian accent.” She straightens up. “Ohhhrrr naurrrr, the pink buggarrs escaped. Fuck me dead.”
