The Once and Future Fling by Leigh Heasley

Author:Leigh Heasley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wattpad WEBTOON Book Group

13

“Mm-kay, puddin’ pop, I see two problems here.” Teddy held up two fingers, folding them down one at a time. “A, I’m not part of Wardrobe. B, I go on break in five minutes.”

“Those are your only concerns?” I asked. “I’m surprised. I thought you’d be more worried about the potential prison time. Not to mention losing your job.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m acutely aware of those possibilities, but they hinge on whether or not this half-baked scheme of your actually works,” he hissed, eyes darting to the line of makeup artists behind him, waiting with bated breath to see if they’d somehow overheard our conversation. “It’s much more likely that this is going to fall apart long before you smuggle your boyfriend into the present.”

“Can we not call him my boyfriend?” I crossed my arms but relented a moment later. “Cuppycake, I hate to put you on the spot like this, but I’m running out of time. Wardrobe’s going to come looking for me any minute now.”

He blew out his cheeks. “Fine, I’ll help you. But you owe me. If this works, we’re marathoning the entirety of Forged in Fire—”

“I thought you didn’t like the History channel anymore?”

He gave me a sharp look. “Are you refusing the terms?”

“No,” I said quickly. “Forged in Fire, got it.”

“And you’re buying dinner for the next month. My choice,” he continued. “And taking a trip to Colonial Williamsburg. In costume!”

I nodded. “Anything else?”

“Let’s just say the full terms and conditions of this agreement will be determined as needed,” he said.

This was absolutely going to come back to bite me in the ass, but I didn’t have much of a choice. “Sure, okay. So, you understand the plan?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He leaned in for a brief hug, a maniacal edge to his grin. “I’ve got the director’s cut of Ocean’s Eleven, Twelve and Thirteen on Blu-ray. That practically makes me an expert in this sort of thing.”

Some of the enthusiasm drained from my smile. “I have the utmost faith in you.”

With that, he backed away from me and pressed himself tight against the wall of the staff’s break room. As he slipped farther inside, I tried desperately to ignore the fact that he was humming the Mission: Impossible theme and headed to Wardrobe.

Knowing that Ms. Little had made a last-minute alteration for me, I had half expected not to see my name among the chalkboard signs that lined the dressing rooms, but there it was—the last on the line, and it was even spelled correctly. I locked the door behind me and immediately set to examining the purses I had to choose from, hung from a row of brass hooks. The majority of them were hand-sized clamshell purses, too small for my needs, but I eventually found a tall leather handbag I thought would work. I put it aside. The clothes Kairos had selected for my 1920s outing hinted at significantly colder temperatures than my trips before. I scrolled through hangers drooping with heavy wool coats with enormous lapels made of mink, picking out the least ostentatious one I could find.

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