"Excuse me?" Celia whispered harshly, the pen sliding out of her grip.

"Hey! That's my line!" Patrick piped, jolting out of his spot on the couch and making a bee-line towards me.

"Now, now. Don't freak out," I whimpered, my eyes begging Zander to help me out.

"You guys can just fake it," is his flat response and weak attempt at coming to my aid.

Celia and Patrick both turn their heads towards him, eyes stern and bodies stiffening.

"Yeah, tell that to my parents! My grandma will bombard me with a million questions and ask when she can see her great grandkids," Patrick said, his words a flurried torrent of bullets aimed at his friend.

"Mine too! All nine of my uncles will show up at my place and demand I produce this boyfriend of mine," Celia fumed, the pen now clutched between her fingers in a vice-like hold.

"Just for a little bit?" I asked innocently, my voice coming out frail and broken.

Celia's lips twitch into a frown. "You want me to pretend to go out with a guy I babysat at the aquarium?"

Scowling, Patrick points an accusing finger at her. "Excuse me? Babysat? I'll have you know, you weren't all grace and composure when we came across the penguin show."

"At least I'm not the one who cried over his friend leaving for a day!"

Carefully stepping back as stealthily as I can, I tip-toe towards the couch and sit next to Zander who is my bunker of safety as the two of them continue their verbal battle.

"Said the woman who was sniffling and moping over her best friend being gone! Also, you know I'm just doing this so Zander doesn't find out I broke his camera!"

I sense the veins in Zander's arm pulse next to me with restrained fury at the mention of his camera but he decides to release his anger for later since it wasn't the time nor place for it.

"Oh shut it... you...you..."

"You what? I know I'm irresistible and you've got nothing against me," Patrick gloated.

"Now you sound like Zander!"

At this, Zander smirks and I smack his arm and shake my head.

Antagonizing Celia now and having her wrath deflected onto us was not the smart choice - we were better off unnoticed in our little corner, munching on a bag of leftover pretzels.

"Well where do you think he gets it from?"

"ERGH. You're an idiot who likes to debate! I'm not getting myself involved with you."

"And you're too scared to let someone else in!"

"Mind your own business Greene."

"Apparently I can't because we're going to be entangled in a love affair soon."

"Why are you suddenly talking sense and reason..and...and acting your age?"

"It's a toxic trait, I know."

"I hate them," Celia huffed, stretching out a finger pointedly at Zander and I.

"I hate them too."

They're both breathing hard, the onslaught of words now over and I take this as my chance to squeak out in the midst of this cease fire. "So... you're in? It won't be more than a month, I promise."

They both groan which triggers whatever biological function I have that demands I stress eat, and shove a few more pretzels in my mouth before gulping down a large glass of water and continue my proposal.

"Patrick has been under the radar with no incidents or dating rumours."

Snickering, the man in question shakes his head. "It's because I'm subtle about it. I know how to keep a low profile unlike my friend there," he said, craning his neck in Zander's direction.

"Right....so anything we have on him will be hot news. Of course, we don't disclose our identities as matchmakers because Randy might sniff out the lies but what we do, is anonymously send him an email with incriminating photos that black out your faces and a clipped message demanding he directly contact us for more information."

Noticing the skepticism flitting across their faces, I add, "under a fake email and fake names, of course."

"And then?" Celia asked crisply.

"And then we negotiate. Claim we're working on behalf of Zander and are willing to part with whatever information we have on Patrick for an exclusive that benefits Zander."

"Okay, but before we even do all this you want to cool the waters of his personal life?"

That's my business partner for you.

"Exactly. We all know if he's in a horrid mood, he takes it out on his work. Awful, considering he should be objective about it but people love the articles sprinkled with subjectivity."

"Hmmm I can see where you're going with this now," Patrick mused, his forehead creasing into lines.

Celia nods in agreement. "How soon are we doing this?"

"As soon as we can," I said breathlessly. I'm leaning on the edge of the couch, one hand grasping a corner of it and the other tightly holding onto Zander's hand.

He hasn't said a word but has remained impassive and serene. I can't help but wonder if he's doing it for my sake to counter my nervous tension or if the broken camera has left him with a case of PTSD.

Holding up a hand, Celia leans in closer as she thinks things through. "Okay, okay... hold up. How are we going to facilitate a counselling session? If neither one of us can actually come face to face with Randy if we're being featured in his tabloid then...."

"I thought that over. We write down whatever we know about Randy and his wife and have Ms. Musa send someone over to act the part of counsel while we watch on in disguises."

"And you think she'll agree to this?"

"She already has more or less. And once that's sorted, the emails and photos will be a cinch," I said breezily, fully aware that this plan was in no way entirely a breeze, sane or would guarantee success.

"So what do we do first?" Patrick asked, his voice distant as he repeatedly taps his forefinger against his chin.

"First, you two need to go on a date."

***********
Three days later, and the four of us are at a café rented out by Zander to hold a private photo-op.

Celia and Patrick have dressed the part, and their looks of approval for the other don't go unnoticed by me or Zander, who only chuckles at their expressions that go from simpering to glowering.

"You look nice," Patrick offers politely.

Giving her best haughty look, Celia nods. "I know I do, thanks love."

"What are we supposed to do even?" Celia whined, seating herself down into a chair. Her words contrary to her actions as she flips through the menu and orders a latte and slice of cake.

Patrick places his order and the two of them glance across the table at one another while Zander snaps away with his phone.

We're seated a couple of tables down from them, hoping that the shots we take come out paparazzi-esq in order to convince Randy that they were taken in the moment.

To make it more convincing, we even hired actors to play the part of extras in the café in order to make the scene around us as natural as possible.

"So..." Patrick begins. "Nine uncles eh?"

"Don't even get me started. It's like being caged with sweat, cologne, and hair gel. They're sweet but the proportion of uncles to aunts is just sad." Celia winces at the thought and shakes her head.

"That's...."

"Oh! And half of them love professional wrestling so...good luck with that."

Patrick splutters on the hot coffee he's drinking and blinks at Celia dazed. "Say what now?"

"Listen. Don't say I didn't warn you, if they try breaking your bones as a form of initiation or family hazing then you can't say I didn't tell you in advance."

"Yeah...they sound real sweet all right," Patrick grinds out, plainly looking at our table with eyes wide open and mouthing, 'HELP.'

"What about your grandma?" Celia asked, rolling her eyes from his distressed state at the mention of pro wrestling.

"She'll..." His face swells with a shade of pink. "She'll wonder if you've got the stamina and hips for childbearing."

Now it's Celia's turn to splutter and look distressed. She's not the only one either, half the inhabitants of the café turn shocked and zero in on Patrick and Celia with a sense of remorse. None of them can believe what they've just heard but no one's surprise is as great at Celia's.

"Err isn't that like extremely personal for a grandma to be inquiring?" Celia asked, fanning her face with a menu in what's meant to appear casual and languid but she's really fanning out the heat creeping up her neck.

"Greene women are tough as nails, inquisitive, and like to be in command. Grandmas are no exception."

From our table, Zander and I share a quick glance.

"Definitely Celia," I whispered.

"Without the misogyny."

Smiling, I take this uncomfortable encounter to snap a few photos, hoping Randy views them as a moment of flirting without being privy to the context. "Exactly."

"Then how do you date as a Greene? I've actually been meaning to ask you this. I couldn't collect so much as a crumble of dirt on you."

"Either set your dates when their schedules are packed or conveniently use Zander as a shield against their snooping."

"That's it?"

"Cel. Cel, Cel, Cel. I'm just getting started. Then you either have an entire disguise set up, followed by an entire constructed persona to present to the women I'm interested in. Then I try to have dates across town, in a different city, or across the globe on some far off beach or cavern they can't find me in."

Noticing the grim look Celia is giving him, Patrick raises a hand to stop her. "I know what you're thinking. Those are just lies. A pretty con. My personal details always remain truthful but I leave out my family to the best of my ability. I don't like it as much as you but when you've got an elderly, ancient dragon breathing down your neck to produce a nest of eggs...you run."

"Wow. It never occurred to me that you'd be roaming in a disguise just like when I'm out in the field. I always assumed your lot liked to bask in their own self proclaimed glory."

With a look I've never seen Patrick possess, he bores into Celia with a hardening smile. "Ha. Ha. Cute."

"What? I'm being totally serious, also don't cute me you habitual lying grandson. Who cons their own grandma?"

"Me. And so would you if you met the woman."

"Oh shut up and eat this cake. I'm sure you can manage this much like the professional con artist that you are." Clomping down on the spoonful of cake Celia proffers, Patrick silently does as he's told.

The two of them eat a shared slice in lingering silence before Celia picks up their conversation again.

"I guess we're both struggling to survive with interesting family members."

"Yeah tell me about it. What's worse? Getting your bones crushed by wrestlers or a marriage that promptly turns you into a baby manufacturing plant?"

Both of them shiver and slurp down the last remaining dregs of coffee, forming some weird sense of camaraderie.

They resume chatting about general things and I continue to snap away, capturing one photo after another.

"We need something more," Zander suddenly notes next to me, frowning as he scrolls through his camera roll.

"Like what?"

"Hold on, I'll be right back." Striding to their table, he lowers his head to say something and both Patrick and and Celia throw napkins in his face.

"Zander, I like you I really do and I approve of you dating my lovely Catherine, but I will seriously not hold back and murder you in cold blood," Celia responds icily.

"Dude. How could you? That's not even up for contention."

What? What? What did he ask them to do?

"Can you actually say these are convincing?" Zander hands them his phone and they slide through its contents. A look of absolute defeat clouds over them and they groan in agitation.

Pulling out a lipstick, Celia glides the coral shade on her lips and gives a resounding smack. "Fine. Let's just get this over with."

Grinning, Zander takes a few paces back and holds his phone ready for what's to come. He motions for them to move and Patrick nervously darts his eyes at Celia.

"You sure about this?" He asked hesitantly.

Squaring her shoulders, Celia unfurls a silk scarf from her bag. Placing it over her head in a fashionable way, she grabs a pair of shades and fixates her gaze on Patrick.

"For C&C and best friends right?"

"If you say so."

My absolutely confused state turns into outright shock the next as the two of them entangle themselves into an extremely steamy make out session.

Audibly gasping, I cover my mouth and then my eyes as the actors in the café do their best to mask their appetency to openly watch them.

I never expected this.

My boyfriend on the other hand, is grinning happily and snapping away going "yes, work it," in hushed tones.

Is he not as repulsed as I am at seeing his best friend make out? My eyes feel like they need to be purified and doused with holy water.

I'm on the brink of gagging when I catch Celia undo the top buttons of Patrick's shirt and the lipstick smudge smeared at the corner of his mouth.

For a split second I consider myself the only abnormal person who finds the explicit PDA in need of censorship when the waiter comes short and almost falters in his steps at the sight before him.

I feel apologetic and mortified, heat searing to my face when I can hear the smacking of lips.

Relief instantly fills me when Zander finally raises a hand after what feels like an unnecessary length of time. "Okay, got it!"

Pulling away a fraction, the two of them heave heavy sighs and I turn my head quickly when my eye catches Celia's teeth graze against Patrick's swollen bottom lip.

Dear heavens, please erase that forever from my memory!

Think of Hectors. Think of cupcakes. Pretzels....of how much I want to gouge my own eyes out and preserve them in formalin.

"That was..." Patrick said through heated breaths.

"Yeah," Celia finished.

Observation: This mission might be more detrimental than I thought. To my eyes and to their hearts - let's hope we all make it out alive.