6. Don’t Be Dramatic

DARREN

"Just get me out of here," Alistair growls as he pushes past me, his ankle giving out, and he almost topples over in his heels. There's a loud squeak as Evangeline tries to contain her laughter by pressing a fist to her mouth, but she's not doing a good job of it.

"When you said you were at a police station, you didn't mention it was the park police," I accuse.

"Did I need to?" Alistair places his hands on his hips which only makes me laugh harder. "Every police station is the same."

"I disagree."

"Did you have to bring her?" He points to Evangeline, who is doubled over laughing.

"She's my wife," I remind him, amused. "And besides—" I pause, meeting her eyes. "I owed her."

"Jesus Christ. Where's your car parked?" Alistair looks around.

"Car?" I scoff, acting confused. "I'm not parking my BMW in this neighborhood. We took the subway."

"Tell me you're joking, because I'm not riding the subway in a dress." Alistair looks alarmed and I almost feel bad for teasing him, but he just makes it so fun. "Call Bailey," he demands.

"Darren," Evangeline warns between giggles.

"I'm joking, the car is in the lot down the street," I tell him.

Momentarily he looks relieved, but then stares down the block with a forlorn expression. Turning back to me, he says, "Did you have to park so far away? My feet are killing me in these heels." He points down to the pair of diamond studded stilettos. I didn't even know they made women's shoes that big.

"Just take them off!"

Alistair stares at me with incredulity. "Do you know what excrements are on this sidewalk?" He pulls a disgusted face. "I could get typhoid."

"I'm no doctor, but I believe typhoid was eradicated back in nineteen forty-five."

"What are you, a doctor?"

"Here, let me help you," Evangeline interjects, holding out an arm to steady him as we start to walk down the sidewalk.

The click of Alistair's heels causes another bout of laughter to bubble up inside me, and I can see the shake of Evangeline's shoulders ahead of me. Alistair"s hand is clutched onto her bicep as if his life depends on it and it very well may as he walks unsteadily. I wonder how he got around all night in those.

"Explain to me again what the purpose of this is?" I catch up to them and gesture to his outfit: an evening dress, complete with pearls.

Alistair takes a moment as if he's deciding whether he wants to say something in front of Evangeline or not. He looks down at her arm as she holds onto him, the only thing keeping him upright at the moment, and then sighs.

"As you know, I got my series seven," Alistair starts, as if he's giving a monologue in a Shakespearean play, and I gesture for him to get to the point. "There was this party with the guys at work," he explains, losing his balance as his heel catches in one of the sidewalk cracks. "Shit!" he calls out.

Evangeline giggles while trying to hold him up, and Alistair glares at her. "You try walking in these things," he pouts.

Evangeline presses her lips together.

"Anyway…" I try to get him to finish the story.

"You remember the frat parties?" he asks, and I groan, remembering exactly what he's referring to.

"Like a Halloween party?" Evangeline inquires, curiously.

"Not exactly," I grumble.

"More like a theme party," Alistair explains. "Ya know, like nineties boy bands, seventies, stuff like that. One of them was where the guys dressed up in women's clothes, and the girls dressed up like men."

"Nineties boy bands?" Evangeline asks with a raised eyebrow, and when she turns towards me, it almost looks like she's picturing me as Donnie Wahlberg – as if.

"There is no photographic evidence of this in case you were wondering if you could use it against me."

"Hmm, I doubt that, but if it makes you feel safer," she leaves the sentence hanging, giving me a mischievous smirk and making me want to take a bite of those sexy, pouty lips.

Oblivious to my thoughts, Alistair continues. "I was told by my friends at work that everyone was dressing up, and then I get to the party and I'm the only one." Alistair lifts his arms in the air in exaggeration, nearly toppling over again.

"Can you really call them friends at this point?" I ask.

"Don't be jealous, Darren," Alistair places a hand on my shoulder, "You'll always be my best friend."

I shake his hand off. "Believe me, I'm not jealous."

"How did you end up in jail?" Evangeline interrupts, asking the question that we both want to know the answer to.

Alistair presses his lips together as if to keep the secret from spilling out, and I guarantee it's not as salacious as he thinks it is.

"I'd rather not say in front of a lady," he states in a demure tone, and looks pointedly at Evangeline.

"Don't be dramatic. It can't be any worse than this," I gesture to his outfit.

"I highly doubt that's why," Evangeline cuts in, placing her hands on her hips and looking pointedly at Alistair.

"I'll find out later and just tell her anyway," I express.

"I'll take my chances," he denotes, tight lipped. "Can we just go? People are staring."

I look around the park, but aside from the homeless man sleeping on the bench, there's only an elderly couple walking on the other side of the park feeding the geese.

"Are you afraid you're going to scare the geese?"

"Don't try to be funny, Darren," Alistair sneers.

I hold my hands up. "I wouldn't dare when clearly you do it so much better."

"Do not make me come after you." Alistair tries to sound menacing, but I just can't take him seriously while he's wearing a dress, especially since he can't seem to stay upright in his heels.

"I'd like to see you try," I laugh as Alistair glares at me.

"If I knew you were going to be such an ass, I would have called someone else."

We cross the street and reach the lot where my car is parked.

Stopping by the driver"s door, I glare at him. "One of your friends at work?" I suggest.

"I'm worried about the two of you." Evangeline opens the back door for Alistair. When he lifts his foot to get in, she gasps and says, "Are those Louboutins?" she asks, pointing to the red bottom of Alistair's raised heel.

"What? I'm not wearing just any heels." Alistair shrugs as if we're both stupid. "I have standards." Then he ducks his head into the car and slams the door shut.

"I don't even have a pair of Louboutins."

I lean against the car admiring her. I think she's the most gorgeous creature to walk the earth. "I'll buy you a pair if you want," I offer, and she turns towards me with a surprised expression.

I would have bought her anything she wanted, but that wasn't the point. This was the decisive moment where I could try putting everything behind me, rid myself of the mental image of her with my father, block out the omission, and see only her, because God knows if holding onto grudges was an Olympic event, I would have a gold medal.

"Not necessary."

Instead of rounding the car, she waits… for what I don't know. I'm not good at this, apologizing or expressing my feelings, but I want to kiss her. To have the weight of my body press her against the car, feel her hips pushing into me, and her soft hair against my face as I bury myself in the hollow of her neck; to steady me instead of Alistair.

Her hand rests on the space next to the window, her fingers curl against the unyielding metal and I step forward, but the window rolls down and Alistair's head pokes out.

"Can we stop for coffee? I don't care where," he says and then pulls a face. "I retract that. Slipstream has this Ethiopian blend that's just…" he doesn't get to finish the sentence because I push his face back through the window. Evangeline laughs, lifting her hand to cover her mouth while I give her a lopsided smile. Fucking Alistair.