Page 85 of Turnabout Is Fair Cosplay
“Hey, Adam.” Mike has joined me at the kitchen counter. He’s also taken the cranberry juice from my hand and put it back in the fridge. “Who’s out tonight?”
“Catstrike.”
“Can Vanessa sub?” Mike asks.
“She’s out of town. I already called Jack in to sub for Vanessa. I’d call in Tom to play some other villain, but Stacey told me that we’ve got three birthday parties that booked tonight specifically for Catstrike.” Adam sighs. “She told me in no uncertain terms that I had to find a replacement.”
“Bea can do it,” Mike says.
“Absolutely not.” Even if I wasn’t exhausted, Catstrike is a confident, sexy badass in a skintight catsuit, and there is no way I’m playing her.
But Adam doesn’t hear me. “Awesome. Thanks, Bea. I owe you one.”
And he hangs up.
Mike is laughing at me.
“I’m not cosplaying as Catstrike. You heard Adam. Vanessa isn’t in tonight, and she was the only reason I was able to pull off the cosplay before, and even so, I was working reception then.”
“Come on, Bea. You can do this. It will be fun.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” He leans against the doorjamb and flutters his eyes at me. He’s pretty enough to be a GIF that loops endlessly in my brain. “Isn’t this what you live for? Entrapping family members and the beleaguered into owing you favors?”
“Turnabout is fair play.”
“Yes, and tonight, turnabout is fair cosplay.”
“You are such an idiot.” But a really handsome idiot with hidden depths masked by all that snark and charm.
“Fine. I’d hate for you to have to eat your words and discover that cosplay actually is a form of acting that requires a whole lot of talent in addition to timing, nuance, creativity—”
I groan and tip my head back. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
“Great.” Mike rests a casual hand on my shoulder before skirting past me. “But I know you. You probably have a list of clauses your lawyer brain must insist on, so let’s hear it.”
“But I won’t like it. I’m not posing for pictures.” I’ve seen the Instagram posts of Adam’s regular Catstrike. Not only is she taller than me and skinnier than me, she’s also tapped into a sexy confidence I don’t have. Period. There’s no way I’m passing for her. “I’m definitely not wearing a catsuit or a corset.”
Mike grins. “You have to.”
“No, I don’t. It’s not my thing.” And unlike a lab coat and mini, they leave absolutely nothing to the imagination.
“Come on, Bea. Big lawyer like you afraid of a little cosplay?”
“Former lawyer,” I snap.
“Look. It’s my last night at the escape room beforeMuch Adodress rehearsals and performances take over my life. Tonight is like my final show at Superhero Escapes. You have to come, and you have to be nice to me.”
One pair of faux leather leggings, a mesh bodysuit, and a pushup bra later, and I’m at Superhero Escapes.
“Oh, thank goodness you came,” Stacey says when I walk through the door. “Tell me you have a set of cat ears in your bag. I couldn’t find any in the cosplay closet.”
I pull out a pair of clip-on cat ears. “Monique sent me with these. Thanks for sending her to Mike’s place. I don’t know how I would have pulled this off without her or her wardrobe.”
Stacey finishes applying adhesive to the black mask. “Hold still,” she says before pressing it to my face. “Wear your hair down tonight.” She clips one cat ear then the other into my hair. “You’ll pass for a 1960s camp version of Catstrike.”
“Yay,” I say sarcastically.
