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Fake You Out
A string quartet's music filled the room, only slightly louder than the buzz of conversation. Expensive bouquets were in the corners, in place amongst the expensive wallpaper and lush carpeting. Small glass sculptures were the centerpieces on round tables with green tablecloths and delicate china.
Ana looked around and finally let out a sigh. She'd done this thing before, more times than she'd like to count, and honestly she'd seen more exquisite events than this. And even though the gala was for a 'Green' cause, it seemed the planners didn't mind wasting multitudes of energy and resources. Wealthy hypocrisy at it's finest.
She moved his arm off her waist, instead linking their elbows as they walked around, checking the perimeter and casing the place before turning them straight to the bar.
The bartender was cute but flashy, doing a 'Cocktail' bit: spinning bottles and tossing the shakers around as he made drinks quickly.
"What can I get for the lovely couple?" he asked as they stepped forward, and Galahad smiled, turning his head to look at her. Her heels put them around the same height.
"Old Fashioned, please," she said, and from the corner of her eye she saw Galahad raise an eyebrow as the bartender let out a hum of appreciation.
"Classic woman, I like it; and for the lucky guy?"
"Martini. Gin, not vodka, stirred for ten seconds."
The bartender nodded, raising an eyebrow as it was her turn to look at him. She figured him more as a Rum and Coke type of guy, maybe even Scotch on the rocks… She wondered what he thought what type of drink she was, but then mentally shook her head, watching the bartender make their drinks.
Who cares what he thinks?
You care. Stop denying it.
No, I'm fine over here. Denial is fun, isn't it?
She watched as the bartender stirred Galahad's drink before adding a toothpick with an olive as the last touch, bringing them up to the counter. Galahad's arm snaked around her waist again.
"I'm pretty sure that was only nine seconds," she muttered as she picked up her drink.
The bartender's eyes widened, taking her seriously for a moment before Galahad chuckled, his fingers pushing into her hip, tugging her closer even though they were already touching.
"My girl's a cheeky one, ain't she? Thanks," he said, picking up his own drink and turning them away.
"I count fifteen," he said softly, meaning the number of men in suits surrounding the room; security.
"Seven are hers," she whispered, taking a sip of her drink, made strong but not overpowering. With his hand around her waist, which she was sure he intended to leave there for the whole night, she'd need the liquid courage. But in the back of her mind a part of her thought she maybe even needed the support.
"Nicer suits, no visible earpieces."
She nodded. He'd seen the details as well.
"She's not here yet," he continued as she took another sip of her drink.
"Said she'd be fashionably late," she muttered.
"Yeah, but there's a difference between twenty minutes an'…" he brought up his arm to look at his watch, but he was holding his drink.
Without thinking she reached forward and pulled the hem of his sleeve back, looking at his watch.
"Almost an hour," she muttered, dropping her hand and taking yet another sip of her drink, acting as though nothing had happened.
He turned and stared at her. She looked around the room, trying to act indifferent, but gave up and turned to meet his gaze. His grin turned into a smile and she raised a brow. His hand tightened around her hip again, but he didn't say anything.
And for the first time in a while, she was speechless; she didn't have a sarcastic remark to make.
She felt a single blunt tipped finger trace down her spine, even tracing over the fabric of her dress. She glared at him, working hard at not visibly shivering at his touch.
He only grinned and she looked away, eyeing the crowd again as she also mapped the guards – Marsha's guards. Her gaze swept the crowd, but she almost faltered when she saw that one of Marsha's men coming out from a doorway, one that she didn't remember in the blueprints of the Hotel - was staring right back at her. He was larger than the usual man, standing straight and unmoving, probably military. He had the buzz cut and clean face to match.
She took a sip of her drink and gazed around the room before chancing a glance back at him.
He was still staring.
She gave what she hoped was a convincingly flirty wink before turning and walking away, Galahad's hand dropping from her hip.
"What's wrong," he whispered as he caught up to her.
"Guard at our six noticed me. Planting the devices will be risky," she whispered back before taking another small sip of her drink. The way the guard had looked at her…
"Why? He's just doing his job."
"It wasn't just a security look, Galahad. It was a 'look' look."
She felt his hand slide against her back and come to rest on her hip.
This time, she didn't flinch. She didn't even mind it, which had her frowning.
"Well that's just slimy. C'mon, luv, we've got roles to play," he whispered, his hand tightening around her waist.
She took a rather large gulp of her drink, almost finished, but nodded while she turned to look back at him.
"Of course, honey," she said with a smile, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
He only grinned at her, but then faltered when a wave of whispers hit them, the crowd almost falling silent as the string quartet played on.
They both turned towards the entrance and sure enough, Marsha Valentine entered the ballroom.
Her son was crucified once it was discovered that his free WiFi SIM Cards sent the world on a homicidal rampage. Lives were lost, but so were entire governments; for the following months, most countries were under martial law before official elections could be arranged.
Marsha must've hired a hell of a team, because after the media crucified her, the tides miraculously changes and Marsha Valentine was instead pitied and then revitalized the negative name towards donations and commitments to various 'Green' organizations that wanted to help the planet, and didn't involve modern Darwinism.
But nobody could stop gossip, hence the whispers.
"Poor thing, no one should bury their child."
"What kind of parent is she? Can't imagine raising such a… monster."
"She's doing better for his name. The world still needs saving."
And her favorite: "I bet it was her that told him the world needed 'fixing'."
She took the lead and Galahad kept up as they wove through the crowd and stopped in front of Marsha.
The woman was looking somewhat… angry, but it all fell away when she saw Ana, and then her smile brightened when she noticed Galahad with her.
"Oh my word! I've always wanted to consider myself a matchmaker!" she said, raising her arms and giving them both a hug.
Ana plastered on a smile as Galahad chuckled.
"Indeed. Ever since I saw those bright blue eyes, I couldn't stay away," he said. Ana turned and smiled up at him, ignoring the heat flushing her cheeks.
"Oh, that's adorable! I'm so excited! I could tell instantly when this girl couldn't help but keep looking your way – I knew I had to do something. Glad to see my hard work paid off," Marsha said.
Galahad shook his head, grinning.
"Not that hard, ma'am," he said.
Marsha let out a soft laugh and grabbed Ana's free hand, leaning in.
"I'd hang onto this one, dear," she whispered theatrically.
Ana only smiled, and then looked at Marsha up and down.
"You look exquisite."
Marsha nodded, running a hand down her stomach. The dress was dark green, a nod to the Gala, and was covered in sequins, with mid-sleeves.
"All thanks to you."
"The thanks should be ours, inviting us. I don't think I've ever had Lobster," Ana replied, settling into her role. Galahad stared at the transformation.
"The least I could do for helping me last minute! I hope you didn't lose any customers," Marsha said. Ana shook her head.
"With technology these days, it's no trouble. Skype, Face Timing, even online stores… I even once consulted a customer while wearing a blouse but also my pajamas and slippers!"
Marsha smiled and then turned to Galahad, holding out a hand.
"Never caught your name, dearie."
Galahad grasped her hand and gave it a firm shake.
"Lee, ma'am."
Ana watched an array of emotions flickering in his eyes as he gave the name. Seems she wasn't the only one harboring a painful loss.
"A pleasure to meet you," she said, but then Marsha's gaze flickered over his shoulder. Galahad looked over and saw an old man with a much younger woman on his arm motioning her over.
"Sorry dears, but I must make the rounds. Need to raise money, kiss up to old fools who don't think there's something wrong with ditching their wives for a waitress, yet also believe that climate change is a Liberal hoax rather than a situation that ninety-seven percent of scientists agree is the biggest problem for the continuation of the human species, etcetera, etcetra."
Ana nodded, and Galahad hid his surprise as she moved her hand around his waist this time.
"We'll be fine. Go, take money from these chauvinistic fools and climate change deniers; go and change the world," she said.
Marsha nodded, kissing her cheek and giving a wink to Galahad.
"Enjoy the party, my little lovebirds," she said before walking away.
Once Marsha left, Ana let out a big sigh. He leaned into her ear, and was about to ask something before a voice interrupted them.
"Excuse me."
They both turned to see a short woman, an extravagant blue dress that she had noticed was the same one Marsha had denied their day of shopping.
"Hello," Ana started. The woman looked around, and then leaned in.
"You know Marsha Valentine?"
Ana looked up to Galahad, who also seemed confused, before turning back to the woman.
"Well, I'm a stylist. She recently hired me. Are you looking for-"
"Did you know her son?" the woman asked, her voice dripping with gossip.
She froze, trying her hardest to keep her composure and not scream out "I didn't know her son but I wished I'd killed him!"
"I once had the displeasure," Galahad said, and both women turned to stare at him with wide eyes.
"Oh, my," the woman said.
"If you'll excuse us, I'm not in the mood for useless gossip. Have a nice night," Ana said and walked away, Galahad following quickly.
She headed straight for the bar. She raised a hand and in under half a minute the bartender had her drink ready.
"Hey, are-" Galahad started, but she held up a hand as she took a few gulps, finishing the drink before she slammed the glass onto the bar.
She let out a deep breath, closing her eyes. Instead of moving his hand around her waist, he reached forward and laid his hand on top of hers.
She flinched, opening her eyes and looking at him.
"You knew him!?" she whispered. She knew she should leave this conversation for later, but she had a feeling she might let out her anger if they were alone. Better if they were in a crowded room.
The corner of his mouth tilted down.
"Yeah. I was…I was going through the recruitment process as he gave the news for his SIM cards."
She frowned.
"But what… how did you…" she stuttered, and he shook his head.
"Not now. Now that she's here, we can slip out easily. Let's scope the place."
She stared at him for a moment, but then nodded.
They managed to slip through a side door once an obviously tipsy woman took to the stage and started talking about the organization and it's many infamous donors.
The door closed behind them with a silent click that echoed down a long hall.
"So, ya think we can get an invitation to her place?" he whispered as they started trying the doors with no luck – it seemed all of them were locked. Yet none of them had a label, like every other door in the hotel.
She shrugged, looking back and forth down the hall.
"She's strong, but she's got a soft spot for me. Losing a child, no matter how much of a piece of shit they are, is a traumatizing experience."
"Wait, are ya actually tryin' to humanize her-"
"I'm saying she's easy to manipulate right now," she said, turning to give him the evil eye, "She treats me as a daughter. A few well placed words, some happy glances, and she'll be inviting me to her home, more events, even causal outings. It just takes time, something that I don't have the patience for."
"We don't know if we even have time – it's obvious she's plannin' somethin'-"
Galahad stopped talking and they both froze when the discernible sound of a door opening echoed through the hallway, making her heartbeat jump into overtime.
"Shit," they both cursed simultaneously.
She looked around – there was nowhere to go.
They looked at each other, and she took in a deep breath.
Fuck it.
She reached forward, unwrapping his bow tie and unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt. His hands shot out and caught her wrists.
"What in the bloody hell-"
"Put your arms around me," she snapped, tugging on the lapels of his suit so they were flush against each other, pushing him to the wall and tucking her head onto his neck, bringing up a hand to rustle his hair a little.
He got the gist soon enough, his arms snaking around her lower back, pulling hard so they were almost as one. He tucked his head down, his lips actually brushing against her bare shoulder, making her shiver.
She was about to call him out on it when they heard a shout.
She pulled back with a theatrical gasp, looking over at one of Marsha's men glaring at them – the man that had noticed her.
She looked to Galahad, a dazed look on his face, and then shook her head and giggled into her hand.
"Sorry, uh, mate," he muttered, his hands coming to button his shirt back on. She reached up and tucked his bowtie into his suit pocket.
"This area is off limits. I'll escort you out-"
"Oh, no need," Ana said, grabbing Galahad's hand as she started walking towards the guard, "we know exactly where we're going."
They quickly walked past the guard and through the door back into the ballroom, the Gala now in full swing; a singer had joined the quartet and the small dance floor was full. There was laughter and more chatter – the guests now liquored up.
She kept walking as Galahad tried to slow them down.
"We need-"
"The guard is going to report it to her – we need to leave, keep the cover as 'lovebirds', understand?" she whispered.
"Was gonna say we should at least take dinner to go. Said yourself ya never had lobster."
She stopped and turned to him, fighting a smile.
"Shit, that's a good idea."
He only smiled at her, rushing to a table and grabbing two untouched plates of lobster as she went to an empty table and grabbed a bottle of champagne. They met at the main doors and left quickly, the guards not even bothering to stop them from taking plates out of the room.
They were both sitting on the bed, enjoying their lobster and champagne, Jeopardy! playing in the background as she moaned at the taste.
Galahad only watched her, finishing off his plate and taking a gulp from a water bottle. Seeing as Marsha was covering their stay, the both of them took advantage of the expensive mini-fridge.
She finished chewing as she turned to the TV.
"Who is Ruth Bater Ginsburg."
The contestant on the screen repeated what she had just said, and got the points. Ana grinned as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
"So…" Galahad started, and she turned to him, raising an eyebrow.
"What's the… sleepin' situation?" he continued.
She opened her mouth to reply but a knock at their door interrupted her. She smiled as she climbed off the bed.
"Perfect timing."
She walked forward and opened the door to a hotel employee with a cot on wheels. She smiled and took it from him, promising a tip on the bill as she closed the door.
He climbed off the bed, grabbing the plates and putting them on the dresser next to the TV as she wheeled the cot near the window and threw a pillow from the bed onto the small mattress.
"Sleeping situation solved," she said, walking to the bed and throwing the covers to the side before she climbed in.
He just stood there, staring at her, and then the cot. He let out an audible sigh.
"Not even a chance of rock-paper-scissors?"
She opened her mouth to give a snide comment, but decided against it. Instead she leaned over and turned off her lamp, settling into the bed, pulling the covers up to her nose.
"Go to sleep, we've got a long flight ahead of us," she muttered, closing her eyes.
He thankfully stayed silent. She heard him climb into the cot, the metal creaking before the room fell silent.
She let out a breath, finally relaxing into the bed, her eyes drawing closed as sleep overtook her.
Fake You Out by Twenty One Pilots