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I nod, grinning auspiciously. “Yep, after I take a leak you might just get that dance.”
“Fantastic,” he replies, catching the attention of yet one more person he knows four tables across from ours. “Sammy!” He shouts, rising from his stool to totter away.Perfect opportunity, dude.
In a fell swoop, I swipe his device from the surface. Shuffling towards the marked bathrooms couldn’t have me feeling any seedier. Reid Fairchild is textbook definition‘gay Daddy Dom’with a deeper heart than I’d ever imagined. The truth each gossip publication claims to write about him are ultimately false.
Yeah, so maybe I could instill a bit more genuine philanthropy into his spirit. But he’s not the heartless bastard half of America takes him for.And I’m trying to help expose secrets about his company, that I doubt he even fully comprehends the ramifications of what something like a Ponzi scheme would bring him.
The bathroom is so bright, I require a few moments to gather my faculties at the sink. A few splashes of water into my face give hope to a less rotational planet. At least for a few minutes. This is yet one more reason I don’t drink often. Here I am the least bit tipsy, yet I’ve consumed more alcohol in one day than I have since my birthday. Fumbling with Reid’s phone is no difficult task, as my vision is hardly impaired. But the passcode he’s enabled will prove a challenge.
If I were him, I’d have some secret word spelled out with the numerical keypad.Instinctively or whatever, my mind immediately goes to how he referred to his dog earlier today.“My Nani is harmless… my nani. My. Nani.”Thanks to Momma’s psychic powers probably rubbing off on me, the thought occurs that I should spell out6-9-6-2-6-4.By George, Reid’s phone unlocks in a matter of two milliseconds.I must thank Tuti later for unknowingly bestowing such a superpower on me.
Now the next hurdle isn’t so reliant on extra sensory gifts. I must scrape my brain to find what folder or app or some shit which would provide me any kind of clue as a jumping off point.This feels dirty and I don’t like it. What am I doing? I can’t destroy my Island Daddy.No sooner do I finish fighting my conscience, when my magical fingers thumb through his many panels of apps. To my surprise, there’s an inconspicuously untitled app icon with the Fairchild Hotel & Resorts logo.If I were holding proprietary information, surely it would be something like this.
I tap the icon, tilting my head in the process. His device seems to be secretly scanning my retinas or something fucking covert like that. A black dialogue box pops up a moment later, something entirely unfamiliar to Apple Devices. The screen to display next in an old analog style font asks for another passcode.Surely it’s not ‘mynani’ again.Though, I try it anyhow because I have no other options.
Nothing. Not a damn thing. I’m at a loss for what else to try. The message blinking underneath the passcode field reads—2 attempts remaining.So for all I know, guessing wrong two more times will alert the top security officials within his company. Then ultimately Reid would find out someone was fucking with his phone. And since I’m the only person who’s been around him today, I’d be immediately painted suspect numero uno.
Rather than ruin my chances at finding the information I need to appease Allen, my decision is simply to dig for another clue which will pass me through the digital gatekeeper. It’s a challenge requiring more time than I have tonight. The pressure my boss has me under is enough to make me urp all over this shiny floor.No Kragen, you’re drunk.Since I’ve wasted enough time in here, I must find my way back to our table. All the while devising a strategy of making Daddy Reid feel like he’s lost his phone somewhere.
No sooner do I slide the stolen device in my back pocket, when I hear the bathroom door creaking open.That was a close call, dude.The look on Reid’s face, however, is of a completely new brand than anything previously today.Does he know I took it? I swear there’s no way he could.
“There you are,my Darling,” he flutters his eyelashes, not as drunk as me but definitely buzzed. “For a minute there, I thought I’d lost you—” he pauses, scratching the base of his skull. “Right along with my phone.”
My head jitters from side to side. “You lost your phone?”
“Yeah apparently I did,” he gasps, scanning the bathroom as if he’s been in here tonight and he hasn’t.
A crack in my voice cloaks an incredibly nervous reply. “I bet Lance might’ve seen you leave it at the bar and is just waiting for you to go grab it.”
Reid’s gaze constricts. “You know what my Banana Boy,” he says, his forefinger pointing up. “You could be right.”
Daddy helps keep me steady as we leave the bathroom. Thank fuck it’s dark as shit out here, because there’s no way he’d see the outline of his device in the back pocket of these shorts. Of course phones have to be the size of a portable television in this day and age.
“You stay right here,” he hollers directly into my left ear, helping my drunk ass up onto the stool. “I bet Lance rescued my phone.”
Daddy Reid leaves a moment later, affording me precisely two minutes to stage a fall to the floor Humpty Dumpty style. Which surely won’t be as hard as I imagine, since I’m practically a teetotaler. Three cocktails has me three sheets to the wind entirely. I slip off the stool gingerly, paying careful attention to preserving the excellent condition of this shirt which likely costed a couple grand. Meanwhile, I reach back to retrieve the phone, intent on positioning it a few inches away from where his feet would have been.
“Kragen!” Reid’s voice bellows from behind me. “What are you doing down there?”
Surely he didn’t see me fake fall. And certainly not watch me reach around for the device I’ve had in my back pocket this whole time.
I twist my head, glancing straight up into his judicious gaze. “I fell over,” I shout, bold-faced lying to the man who earlier insisted that I be completely honest with him. “The good news, is I found your phone,” I add, hoisting it up towards him. “The bad news, it’s about to get vomit—” my words falter with another wave of nausea, a flood of sick propelling from my mouth in the process.
CHAPTER NINE
REID
This boy is stealing every part of me which avowed to never touch a younger man again. Honestly, I’m wondering what I’ve done to him. I know earlier today, Kragen told me that he isn’t fond of drinking too often. Yet at the same time, I’ve just let him consume three Kula Negroni’s as if they aren’t incredibly heavy on the ethanol. My Daddy traits were quick to give him what he wanted, totally ignoring the consequences which would surely follow.
Now an hour after finding him throwing up beneath the table, we’re sitting next to one another in a booth at an all-night pancake house. Seriously, our server Linae couldn’t be any more the spitting image of that friendly diner owner in “50 First Dates.”
“Does na hoola’i need more coffee?” She asks, bent forward with a fresh pot.
I nod in agreement, even though my Banana Boy’s still a bit fuzzy headed. “That would be terrific, thank you.”
Hot steam wafts past Kragen’s beautifully tuckered face as he leans up against my torso, my left arm wrapped gently around him. Linae leaves the table, affording me a moment of quiet before the boy jolts awake from his latest time travel. I’m not even kidding. He’s such a lightweight with alcohol, that I’m honestly surprised his three mimosa’s didn’t buzz him into oblivion.
I withdraw my phone from a side pocket, thanking all fuck that I didn’t lose it. My tendency to lose devices ranks somewhere high enough where I always keep a brand new one on standby. There’s a text from Veronica which seems to have been burning my lock screen for the last forty minutes.
