Page 35 of Bridesmaid Undercover
That makes her laugh. “Sorry, Phillip, he can’t smell you, no chance.”
I glance in his direction and he stands taller, eyes on me. “Holy fuck, he knows me. He sees the resemblance. What the hell am I going to say to him? I’m supposed to be in business with this man. And he’s going to see me on a weekday, dressed up as Phillip the Pigeon Man? How do I even explain that?”
“Technically, you’re Sir Phillip Minkle, the betrothed, but if he comes up to you, tell him you’re not who he thinks you are,” Everly says as JP pushes off the fence.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” I say, bowing my head. “He’s walking over here. He’s approaching. I repeat. He’s approaching. Red alert. RED ALERT!”
“For the love of God,” Everly says before tugging on my arm, pulling me away from the fence and spinning me right toward a bush.
Not expecting the change of position, I trip over my own feet, fall forward, and take a branch right to the face.
Well, not to the face, but to the prosthetic.
It’s a quick jab.
A fencer with no defense, taking a saber right to the nose.
Touché. Horrified, because as I focus, I can see a branch attached to my face. I gently pull away but, instead of taking my glued prosthetic with me, my witch-nose tears off my face with a sticky pop and dangles from the branch, the false skin flapping in the breeze.
“Oh my God,” Everly says, crouching down and covering her nose and mouth with her hand as she laughs.
“My nose,” I whisper-shout. “I fucking lost my nose.”
That only makes her laugh harder as she plucks it off the branch. A new piercing near the nostril.
“This is not funny,” I say as I take it from her and we both straighten up. “What the hell am I supposed to do with?—?”
“Do I know you?” a very recognizable voice says.
My spine seizes and my butt cheeks clench.
Dear.
Mother.
Of.
God.
With my back toward the man I didn’t want to talk to, I look to Everly for help. Pleading with my wide eyes, begging for a life-saving moment.
He can’t see me here, dressed like this, with a fake nose in my hand.
How the fuck do I even explain this?
I can’t. It will get back to Hudson.
And I don’t want to face the wrath of my brother. He can be very unkind when he’s angry.
Thankfully, Everly’s quick on her feet. She brings my hands up to my nose, with the prosthetic, and then says in her terrible Australian accent, “Ohhrrr narrr, he’s got a bloody nose.”
“Oh shit, really?” JP says. “Let me grab napkins.” He takes off, and that’s when I stare daggers at Everly.
“A bloody nose? How the hell am I supposed to produce blood when he comes back? And if you say you’re going to punch me, I’m going to tell you right now, that’s not an option.”
She reaches into her purse and to my surprise, pulls out a few ketchup packets.
“Why the hell do you have those in your purse?”
