Round 26

H elping everyone all the time was not conducive to getting anything done, and now it seemed I wouldn’t be able to get home and back to work before the party.

Shaun walked past me on his way out. “I’m going to get ready and pick up Neema. What’s your plan? You look knee-deep in so much mess, I don’t care to mention it all.”

I laughed and stepped away from two people I’d been helping with last-minute costume ideas. “Can you ask Neema to bring my costume along with her? I’ll get ready here.”

Walking back to my desk, I opened my task list and dove back into work, knowing I had about another hour before Neema showed up.

I was off by five minutes. Shaun and Neema arrived sixty-five minutes later. Already dressed in her Supergirl lingerie, Neema was guaranteed a prize of some kind. Shaun was in his Superman costume, which looked a lot like the Superman Underoos.

Absolutely adorable.

Neema pulled out the black turtleneck, and I eyed the three fresh slits across the chest. I lifted a brow at her.

She shrugged. “I improvised.”

“Of course you did.”

“Wait until you see the boots.”

I dug inside the bag and found the boots in question. Instead of the lower-heeled, sensible boots we’d agreed on, Neema had packed a pair of sky-high boots. I wasn’t mad about it.

Slipping into a bathroom cubicle, I changed out of my office clothes and into my costume. Sucking in my stomach as much as possible, I kicked each leg into the tight-fitting leather pants.

It only took four jumps and three squats to get the pants over my hips, but now that I had them on, they weren’t going anywhere. I tucked the turtleneck into the waistband of the pants and shifted the slits, hiding as much of my cleavage as possible. I stepped into the badass boots and zipped them all the way to the tops of my knees. Taking one last look in the mirror, and assuring myself I was properly put together, I exited the cubicle.

Neema let out a whistle followed by a howl. She was a wolf, and I was the full moon.

“Stop it.” I blushed.

“What’s going on in there?” Shaun called from outside.

“I’m creating a masterpiece,” Neema replied.

That silenced him.

Finally ready, I opened the bathroom door, and the music from the roof flooded through to the office. William, or someone I assumed was William, stood next to Shaun in the best Batman ( The Dark Knight , of course) replica costume I had ever seen.

“Rose, whew!” Shaun teased.

Neema laughed and stepped into his arms.

Shaun lifted his keys and wallet toward me. “Can you keep these? Neither of our costumes have pockets.”

I sighed. No wonder people thought we were a throuple. We certainly functioned better that way. I opened my small leather backpack, and he dropped them inside.

I looked at William, relieved his costume gave me access to his eyes and mouth. My cheeks heated as memories of our kitchen encounter made my knees weak.

“William,” I said, grateful my mask hid some of my blushing face.

“I’m Batman.”

I giggled.

Shaun and Neema got swept up by one of our colleagues, and William slipped an arm around me as if that was where it belonged. I looked up at him, taken aback by his touch but yearning for it, nonetheless.

His eyes raked along my body, and he leaned down until his lips grazed the shell of my ear. “I like this costume, so do be sure to keep it.”

My cheeks flushed again, and my leather pants felt impossibly tighter.

I led William upstairs, pleased to see everyone having a good time, and even more pleased at the superhero-themed banners and giant cutouts hanging prominently around the area. They were probably intended for carnivals and children’s parties, but it worked.

William’s grip loosened until my hand fell into the crease of his elbow. I kept staring at him, confused about how any of this was happening. Every now and again, I questioned my reality and was stuck wondering.

What was William doing with me as my plus-one at a work party?

What did we do in his kitchen yesterday?

Should I tell Neema?

Should I tell Shaun?

If I killed Jeffrey Markham, who would help me hide the body?

I could, at least, answer the last question.

As if reading my mind, William glanced down, catching me in my William-obsessed thoughts. His eyes were playful. I didn’t know what outrageous thing he’d think of saying or doing this time, but I knew it was coming. Leaning down, he whispered in my ear, his breath making me lose my senses for a moment.

“Sorry, what?” I blinked. Between the music and the way he made my brain turn off, I hadn’t heard a word he had said.

He smiled, letting me know he was onto me. “Would you like something to eat or drink?”

I accidentally tutted with disappointment at the sheer normalcy of the question.

William’s mouth turned up in a smirk. “You see, the problem is I am starving. Starving and dehydrated because I haven’t been able to use my kitchen. It doesn’t feel right without you in it.”

There it was. He never disappointed.

I was like a cat with the clink of a tuna can. My head shot up, and I’m sure my fake feline ears twitched.

“That’s not going to work for me.” I bit down on my lip, trying to stop myself from saying these things. William had a way of drawing it out of me, but he wasn’t the only one who could play this game. I ran my gaze over his body, starting at his head and moving down his suit before rising back to his eyes. “You have a body I need you to maintain. I guess I’ll have to come over.”

“Please.” He whispered only the one word, begging, and once again won our game.

“Rose, is that you?” Mervyn from reception lifted his Zorro (not really a superhero or a villain) mask. “It’s me, Mervyn.”

I nodded and shouted over the music, “Yeah! Hey, Mervyn!”

He turned to William. “Oh, Patrick! It’s nice to see you again.”

My body collapsed in on itself.

Mortified. There wasn’t another word for it. If the ground were kind enough, it would open and swallow me whole—or even in bits, I wasn’t picky. Either way, it would save me from having to explain this situation.

A sigh escaped me as I thought of Patrick being Patrick. He’d always come to my work parties ready to leave a good impression on everyone and everything. Every year, without fail, he found a new client too. He took networking very seriously.

I was too afraid to look at William. I needed to say something.

“Hi, Mervyn,” William responded in a jovial tone I didn’t recognize. “It’s so great to see you. Please excuse me. I won’t be shaking your hand. I’ve picked my nose.”

Mervyn, like any regular person, laughed politely and made an excuse to leave while my hand shot up to my mouth, covering my squeal of laughter.

“William!” I shrieked.

He rubbed his palms together, his smile wide and his dimple deep enough for me to live in. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

William had found his game.

Thankfully for me—and for Patrick, I suppose—there were enough people who didn’t recognize me and didn’t bother asking me to reveal myself. The conversations were all general nonsense, enough to keep the smiles on their faces and keep them distracted from asking me, or William, anything else.

At the other end were people who did recognize me, and each one assumed it was Patrick at my side. Granted, I couldn’t blame them. Patrick had been around for as long as I had.

“Patrick! How are you?” a man dressed as the Flash asked.

“I’m Batman,” William replied.

The man laughed. “Ah, good one. We haven’t seen you in a while. How are you?”

“I’m Batman,” William repeated, expressionless.

Unable to hold it back any longer, I slipped away where I could laugh out loud without an audience.

Lydia approached me dressed as Catwoman. Besides myself, there were at least three other Catwomen and six Batmen.

“Rose?” she asked.

I nodded. “Hi, Lydia.”

“Where is Patrick this evening?”

William waltzed over, and I started giggling before he even reached my side.

Lydia looked up at him. “Patrick! I took your advice and moved my little Patrick to a different school.”

“Oh, how old is he now?” I asked, stealing the conversation before William could say anything outrageous.

“He’s almost seven years old,” she squealed.

“What? Time flies! He must be so big. The last time I saw him, he was permanently attached to your boob.”

Lydia laughed. “Oh goodness, remember that?”

“I was breastfed until I was ten years old,” William inserted.

I choked back a laugh.

“And then my mom had my little sister, and she was breastfed,” he continued. “Ah, I hated that she got the milkies and I couldn’t have any.”

I couldn’t do it any longer. Pulling him aside, I wiped away my tears of laughter and straightened my expression into one I hoped resembled serious. “Stop your nonsense.”

William laughed, nearly doubling over. He thought he was hilarious. “Oh, come on. Do you really mind if they think all these things about Perfect Patrick?”

“No.” I smiled. It was impossible not to smile around him. “But I mind that they think I would still be dating someone like that.”

“Fair point. Guess you shouldn’t have dated Patrick, then. He’s a weird guy, I hear. Did you know he spends his free time tracking bigfoot?”

I shook my head and leaned against him as his arms slipped around me.

“William, don’t say that to anyone.” I bit back another laugh. “Oh my goodness, you’re out of control.”

He kissed my cheek and whispered, “No, I’m Batman.”

I laughed. It was funny every single time.

The music picked up, and Neema zigzagged through the crowd toward me and pulled me onto the dance floor. We danced together until Shaun joined us, openly grinding against Neema. I could not resist searching for William. He stood a few feet away, smiling and watching me in a way I’d come to crave. I motioned for him to join us, but he shook his head.

Letting the music course through me, I skipped toward him. He put his arms out defensively, but I grabbed ahold of them and pulled.

“No, no, no,” he murmured.

“Oh, come on. I’ve seen your victory dance more times than I’d have liked.”

He laughed, unconvinced.

“If it’s that bad, people will think Patrick can’t dance,” I teased.

“The problem is…” He allowed me to pull him onto the dance floor. “I don’t want Patrick taking credit for my smooth moves.”

He wiggled his body, and I joined him, swaying to the music as the weight lifted off my shoulders. William’s big, stiff body slowly loosened up. Then it loosened more, and I was confused at how he could move so much in a suit that appeared so restrictive.

He danced up behind me, close enough for our bodies to graze each other, but not close enough to attract any attention.

I’d been drinking so much water that I needed to pee. It was an event peeling these pants down and dragging them up again, but I’d waited as long as I could. I left William to third-wheel Shaun and Neema’s best enactment of sex on the dance floor and went to the bathroom.

After what felt like an hour of struggling with my costume, I hurried out and found Mr. Markham waiting outside the door wearing a Superman T-shirt. His eyes were glossed over and his cheeks red. It wasn’t surprising, considering how much alcohol he consumed at every office party he attended—alone, despite everyone being encouraged to bring their partner or a friend.

His eyes roamed down my body, and an unpleasant smile spread across his face. “You tease.”

My heart rate picked up, and I took a step back against the bathroom door. “You’re drunk. Go away.”

He took a step closer. “You reported me, you little tart. As if you aren’t part of this, with your cleavage out and your constant smiling… your sugary-sweet voice that I can already hear moaning my name.”

My legs wobbled, and nausea built in my stomach. I couldn’t think over the panic pulsing through me.

I turned on my heel and walked away, but he was fast and grabbed my wrist in a tight squeeze. The smell of strong liquor washed over my senses.

“Stop it,” I choked out and wrenched my arm futilely against his tight grip.

“Let go,” William’s voice boomed from behind us.

Mr. Markham spun around to face him. I struggled to breathe or swallow in the seconds that passed.

William walked around Mr. Markham and stood between us. His eyes, even from where I stood, were focused and harsh. “And apologize to her.”

“Stay out of this,” Mr. Markham spat, a crude laugh—if that’s what it could be called—escaping him.

“Apologize,” William said again. There was no room in his tone for negotiating. “Now.”

“Make me.” Mr. Markham took a step toward an unflinching William and shoved him.

A muscle in William’s jaw flexed, and he widened his shoulders. Mr. Markham tried again, but William was an unmovable mountain.

A sneer crept onto Mr. Markham’s face. His fist curled at his side, and then he threw a punch, making contact with the underside of William’s jaw.

William’s head snapped to the left as a gasp was pulled out of me. Finally gaining control of my limbs, I ran to William. In a flash, he was holding Mr. Markham in the air by his T-shirt, his legs dangling like a rag doll’s. As though he’d done it a thousand times, William craned his head back and then snapped it forward, headbutting Mr. Markham before throwing him to the ground.

I grabbed William by the wrist, his fists still curled, and dragged him away. In a situation of fight or flight, I chose flight. My parents never hit me, they rarely even raised their voices, and I’d never in my life witnessed something like this.

“Let’s go,” I said as two people approached Mr. Markham, who was struggling to sit up.

William tore his gaze away from them and met mine. He inhaled sharply, and his expression froze. “Shoot, Rose. I didn’t mean to… That was instinct. I—”

His voice shook with adrenaline almost as much as my legs shook beneath me.

I swallowed, but it did nothing to soothe the stark dryness.

We kept moving until we were in his car and on the way out.

We drove in silence as I ran through thoughts of what I’d seen. A quick glance at William had his full focus on the road, his chest rising and falling as quickly as mine.

He pulled into Neema’s parking spot, and I turned to face him. Anger lingered in his flared nostrils and deep frown.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

He nodded, swallowing hard. “Are you?”

I nodded.

“I didn’t mean to react. I…” He blew out a long breath.

His phone vibrated, and he let his head fall back on the headrest as he dug it out. Shaun’s face covered his screen.

“Shaun’s going to kill me.”

When William didn’t answer, my phone rang. “We should take this.”

William nodded through closed eyes, and I slid my finger across the screen.

“Rose, are you with William?” Shaun asked without preamble.

“Yes,” I answered, controlling my breath.

“Could he turn around? You have my car keys in your bag.”

I forgot about that.

William was close enough to hear Shaun’s request and released a loud huff.

“Oh, and we won Best-Dressed Couple!” Shaun happily announced before hanging up.

“I don’t think he knows,” I said to William.

He opened his eyes and shook his head, his white knuckles gripped tightly around the steering wheel. “Guess we’ll see. I think you should stay here.”

I dropped the keys in the console and then leaned over and kissed the spot I knew would be bruised in the morning.