Page 94 of Owen Bailey Needs Advice

She slips her coat from her arms and hangs it on the back of her chair. She sits, hands in her lap—paying zero attention to her food—and looks right at me.

“Want to play a game?” she says.

46

Annie

Owen and I are like two big kids playing house. It’s fun, but it’s not real. The sooner he realizes that, the better. So, I’ve formed a genius plan in my head. One to prove that he and I—as a coupling couple—are more game than reality.

Owen watches me back, and I wait for his answer.

“A game?” he says. “What did you have in mind?”

“This table is about to fill up with strangers. Sweet older women who will want to know how long we’ve been together, and their kind husbands who will ask if I’ve started bugging you about children yet. So—let’s play.” I bounce my brows at him. Will he take my bait? If we play imaginary Annie and Owen, he’ll see that’s all it is: imaginary.

He’ll realize that bullseye on his chest doesn’t represent me. It’s just one of those funny coincidences, where we accidentally match, one that we never tell another soul about.

“So, you want to pretend that we’ve been together a long time?”

“I say we go all the way. Let’s pretend we’remarried.”

His eyes turn to slits. “What’s your angle, Archer?”

He knows me too well. “To have fun,” I lie, although this could be a good laugh.

“All right.” Owen leans toward me, his breath tickling my chin and cheek. “I’m game.” His face drops closer, and he lays a chaste kiss on the corner of my lips. “Wife.”

My heart decides that is the perfect moment to plummet into my toes. I am a goner. There may be no recovery.

Oh boy.

“Helllllo,” sings an older woman. She’s twice the size of the man who follows her, and she’s wearing more sequins than I’ve ever seen in one place at one time. Her feet shuffle, and when her belly hits the edge of the table, she drops her plate with a clunk. “I’m Carol.” She holds out a hand, and I blink at the speck of gravy between her first two knuckles.

Owen—like a good husband—takes Carol’s hand and shakes it while I give her a mega-grin. “Nice to meet you.”

“And you are?” Carol asks, looking right at me.

“Oh,” I say. “I’m Annie, and this is Owen.”

“Y’all from around here?” Carol asks.

We never did come up with a storyline… there was no time.

I think for only a second, and then Owen answers.

“We live back East. Just visiting, ah… for work.” The nicest man alive just lied to this stranger. That’s not very nice, Owen. But then, I guess I’d already talked him into lying with the whole married couple bit.

“Back East?” says the slim man still settling in next to Carol. “Where about?”

“Ah—” Owen starts.

I decide to help by claiming, “Virginia.”

Just as Owen announces, “Rhode Island.”

Owen’s brows lower. “Um, Virginia, Rhode Island. It’s a small town. I’m guessing you’ve never heard of it.”

“My, Stanley and I have only been as far as Nebraska.” Carolpeers at Stanley, who I assume to be her husband. “You are far from home.”

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