18—Indianapolis （Convenience Store）
I can’t decide if spending the night with Larinda and not touching her is worse than not spending the night at all. I do know that there’s no version of spending the night with Coriander and Sage that I want to repeat.
Either way, it’s been a constant battle with myself not to think about Larinda every second since. How it felt to crowd her on the bed, to touch her, to feel her hands on me, to finally get intimate with her beyond?—
“Hey! Earth to Mr. Andrews! I asked a critical question that requires an urgent response,” Chad hisses at me. “This or that?”
I tune back in to the present to find my companion holding up identical bags of breath mints.
“They’re the same.”
“No. Look.”
He turns them around. They’re still the same.
“That one,” I say, pointing at the one on the left.
“Really? Hmm…” He tilts his head as he studies them. “I don’t know. The ink on the serving size text might be a tad darker on this one. You don’t have to squint as hard to see it.”
“Um, sure. So that one.”
“But this bag is less creased.” He gives me a grave look. “We can’t screw this up, Val.”
“Buying a bag of mints?”
I don’t even know how you’d screw that up.
“They’re for Jarvis. He trusted me with this assignment. Do you know what happens if I do this right?”
“You get to buy him more mints?”
“Exactly.” He puts both bags back. “Maybe this one?”
Still the same mint.
“Okay, well, while you work on that, I’m gonna grab some stuff.”
I’m not sure he heard me, which is for the best as I wander away.
I try to appear aimless on my way through the aisles, but my hidden sights are clearly set on the reproductive health section toward the back of the store. For a second, I worry Chad might follow me to get supplies for himself, then decide his mint situation should take a while to sort out. Plus… I mean… Let’s be honest…
I peek back and see the top of his blond head still motionless as it decides between eleven of the same thing. I should be good.
I have no idea if I’ll need condoms anytime soon, but I have every intention of being prepared should the opportunity arise. In some ways, I’m glad Larinda’s entourage was there to crash the party last night because I wasn’t exactly stocked for the occasion. Forgive me for not assuming I’d be having clandestine forbidden sex with my longtime celebrity crush on her bus while I was packing for the tour.
After grabbing what I need, I pick up a few other things, then check on my friend again. He’s now making his way toward the register with an armload of what must be all the mints. Well, that’s one solution.
“Go ahead,” I say, waving him in front of me.
“Of course not! You were here first. I insist.”
“Really, it’s fine. You’ve got your hands full.”
He gives me a hard look. “That’s not how the code works, Mr. Andrews.”
The code. Right. Good to know The Code has provisions for convenience store checkout scenarios.
There’s now another person behind Chad, another on the way, and a very irritated associate behind the register.
“Dude, just go,” the guy says, motioning for my items.
Crap.
I drop everything on the counter and try to hide the condoms from Chad’s view as much as possible. I’d rather my grandma watch me buy these than the genius behind the Mer-Kin.
My fingers tap nervously on my thigh as I sneak glances at his eyes to judge his attention. Maybe he saw them? No. I’m just paranoid.
“You okay, buddy?” the employee asks me.
“What? Yeah.”
When he casts a warning look at the security camera to his right, I clench my fist and force myself to calm.
“That’s forty-six ninety-three,” he says.
I manage a tight smile as I tap my credit card on the reader and take the bag he hands me.
“Need the receipt?”
“Nah, it’s fine.”
“You should take the receipt,” Chad says. “This is tax deductible.”
Is it? As if I’d list “condoms” under itemized deductions even if it was.
“I’m good,” I say, stepping away before this gets worse.
The clerk still watches me with a wary expression as he rings up Chad’s purchases. You know you’ve screwed up when you’ve raised more red flags than the guy clearing your shelves of the same wintergreen mint.
Chad pays, gets his precious receipt, and follows me into the sunshine. We’re two steps down the sidewalk when his phone rings.
“Oh shit! It’s my pre-girlfriend. You mind?” He shoves his bags at me. “Careful with those. They’re for Jarvis.”
That fact makes me want to wrinkle all the bags and smear every serving size number so he has no idea how many mints make up 20 calories, but it’s Chad who would pay the price, so I suppress the urge.
I should get a medal.
“Hey, Cashew Bug,” Chad says, grinning at the screen. “How’s the artisanal nut business?”
I think he’s joking until a female voice says, “Good, actually. I’m already out of the special edition pine nuts. Who knew there’d be a parfait convention down the street this week?”
“Parfaits! No way! Yogurt? Please tell me it’s yogurt.”
“I don’t know. Probably. I’ll find out. How’s the tour going?”
“Great. I’ve only fallen out of the bunk twice.”
“Ouch. Are you okay?”
“Of course. I had that martial arts class last year. Remember I told you about it?”
“Right, yeah. You earned your white belt.”
“Yep! And I still remember how to roll.”
“Ooh. Maybe you can add a roll to your stripper routine.”
She’s not laughing. Why isn’t she laughing? He can’t actually be an exotic dancer, right? Then again, it would almost be weirder if he wasn’t at this point.
“Yes! Excellent idea. I’ll ask Nate for suggestions. Did I tell you Nate waived my tuition for stripper school as long as I fill out all the questionnaires and agree not to wear the mesh biker shorts again? I have to bring my own snacks too.”
I’m so lost. Also, these bags are heavy, so how long is this going to take?
“Hey, can we at least walk while you talk?” I whisper.
“Oh, shit! I almost forgot. Brooke, this is my tour bestie, Val. Val, this is Brooke. She sells nuts.”
“Hey,” I say, twisting a smile. I can’t see her with the sun glare, but she sounds nice. The nuts part I got.
“Hi! So nice to finally meet you. Chad talks about you constantly.”
“He does?”
“Oh yes. He can’t give many details because of your mission or whatever, but he says you have really cool tattoos.”
“Oh. Um. Thanks.”
“He really does,” Chad agrees. “I’ll get some photos for you.”
Nope.
“Hey, babe, I’d love to talk more but we’re actually on an important mission right now. You’re not going to believe this, but Jarvis asked meto get his mints today! Me!”
“No way! That’s so cool. Does that mean you’ll get to see him in person?”
“I see him all the time, babe. We practically live together.”
Not even a little true.
“Oh my gosh. I can’t believe my pre-boyfriend is famous. Let me know if he ever wants nuts. I can totally hook him up.”
“I’m only your pre-boyfriendfor another two months, right, honeybee?”
His triumphant grin doesn’t seem to match any of this conversation.
“We’ll see,” Brooke says. I can’t see her face, but her tone didn’t sound as triumphant. “It was great talking to you, though. I’m loving all the updates.”
“I’ll call you soon! Miss you.”
“Aww, that’s sweet. Bye!”
“Bye, miss you, bye!”
He hangs up and shoves his phone in his pocket. “Whew. Thanks for not blowing my cover.”
“No problem.”
I don’t even understand his covers enough to blow them.
“You’re becoming quite the spy,” he says.
“Thanks. So, uh, what exactly is a pre-boyfriend?”
“It’s like a boyfriend, but you’re not actually together.”
“So… a friend.”
“No, no. There’s romantic intent, just not contractually. You’re still in the waiting period.”
“The waiting period?”
“Eight months.” He shakes his head with a chuckle. “Wait, sorry. Eight months from the inauguration.”
He motions for the bags, and I hand them over.
“You have a partner or pre-partner?” he asks.
I force away the sudden rush of my pulse. “No, not really.”
“Ding, ding! Good answer.” He leans close. “I saw those condoms, you sly dog. Are you one of those dude dudes who has a girl in each city? Or wait… Is it Sage and Coriander?! That could get messy. Unless you’re dating both? That’s it, isn’t it!”
“Huh? No! None of the above. Can we just walk?”
“Sure, yeah. You wanna go downtown to look for some of that city-sponsored art? Most cities have that now. Like the ginormous eggs and shit?”
“Yeah, um, we should probably get back. Plus, all our stuff.”
I hold up the bags I’m still carrying.
“Right! Of course. I need to get these to Jarvis, anyway. I’m hoping one day he lets me buy his condoms. That would be the day, right?”
I cast him a look, but as usual, he’s dead serious.
“Sure…?”
“Mallory did it last time, but if I ace these mints, I’m sure I could get the next run. He goes through them quick enough.” He winks and resumes walking with the vigor of a man certain he will get the chance to buy condoms for another man in the near future.
My stomach drops as I follow.
Why does Jarvis need condoms if he’s supposedly engaged to a woman he’s not sleeping with?
Larinda: I’m finally alone. Can you come to my suite? 612.
Me: We’re on our way back to the hotel. I’ll drop my stuff at my room and be up as soon as I can.
Larinda: Ugh. How long?
Me: Maybe 30 minutes?
Larinda: Grr fine. Hurry. This gorgeous bed is being wasted.
My heart pounds as I reread the text conversation Larinda and I had on the way back from the store. It’s been almost an hour, and the delay has been killing me. At least it’s a good kind of pain for once.
I bite back a smile as I follow Chad off the elevator. Maybe things are finally starting to go my way. It’s an off day which means we get real rooms with real beds. And that win was before this invitation from Larinda. There’s a million things she could do with her free time, and the fact that she wants to spend it with me is… well, the reason my heart is about to punch through my chest.
“Want to get a late lunch?” Chad asks as we part ways in the hall. “I could go for a grilled cheese sandwich, how about you? Did you know Indianapolis is known for their grilled cheese?”
Is it?
“Probably not today, man. We’ll catch up later, though, okay?”
“Sigh. Fine.”
Interesting. That might be the first time I heard someone verbally sigh.
I toss him a quick smile before sliding my key card into the slot and pushing the door open. I should probably take a quick shower before…
“Oh good, you’re back. I was going to call you but wanted to discuss this in person.”
Bruce is here. Why is our tour manager here? Wait, why is any of this shit here?
“Um, okay. What exactly is ‘this’?”
I scan my room which has transformed into a horror movie set overrun with Jarvises. At least a dozen of those weird cutouts are positioned in various outfits and poses. It’s like the creepiest cocktail party of all time.
“I’m so sorry to do this to you, but we kind of need your room,” Bruce says. “Jarvis is concerned about the cutouts being stacked on the truck all the time and wants to give them a chance to breathe. They were stressing him out with all the negative energy.”
I stare at him. No way that means what it sounded like.
“So, if you could just hand over your key when you leave, that’d be great,” he says when I don’t speak.
“I’m sorry, you’re bumping me so a cardboard sign can meditate?”
“Well, fourteen, actually. Fourteen signs.”
Strangely, the number of signs doesn’t make it better.
“I… Seriously? You’re serious. This isn’t a joke?”
He looks apologetic, like maybe he too sees why I might be upset at losing my room to a cardboard-Jarvis mental health retreat.
“Look, I’m really sorry, man. Jarvis insisted, and the hotel didn’t have any other rooms available, but I’m working on finding you a new bed now. Oh! Hey, Chad just responded. One sec.”
Chad?!
“Good news! He says you can share his room. He’s in four-thirty-seven, just down the hall. Even says he already has an extra key… and toothpaste if you need it.”
He slaps my arm on his way to the door.
I’m still numb as it clatters behind him. This is clearly another targeted attack from Jarvis, but what am I supposed to do? What can I do?
Anger courses through me as I throw my suitcase beside the cutout reclined on my bed. Thankfully, I didn’t do much unpacking since Chad wanted to run out for supplies right after we dropped our belongings in our rooms. Could this be the reason for his invitation? I went along to work him for info on Jarvis. Was he instructed to distract me for their own plot? How many spy networks are we dealing with on this tour? I can’t trust anyone at this point.
Once I have my bag packed, I slam the door behind me and trudge down the hall to Room 437.
I’ve barely finished knocking when it swings open. A baggy light blue polo shirt flies at me and crushes me in an enthusiastic embrace. At least it’s not cardboard.
“We’re gonna be roomies!” Chad says, rubbing my back a few times before letting go.
“Guess so,” I mumble. “Thanks for letting me crash.”
“You kidding? I’ve been hoping for this since the day we met! Want to help, roomie?”
He motions toward a giant grid of tiny white mint circles on the bed.
Wait. The bed. There’s only one bed. I’m supposed to share a bed with him too?! If he tries to snuggle, I’m sleeping in the hall.
He doesn’t wait for an answer before returning to his task.
“That’s the keep bag and the reject bag,” he says waving toward two open mint bags on the floor.
“I’m sorry?”
“See how this one is slightly crooked?” He plucks a mint from the sea of wrappers on the comforter.
“I mean, it’s a circle, so not really?”
“Look closely.”
He shoves it toward me, and I squint at it.
Still don’t see it.
“The L is chipped.”
I blink at the mint. Then at him.
“Reject bag.”
He tosses it in the overflowing bag to his right. There are maybe six in the other one.
“It takes some practice, but I have faith in you,” he says. “You look like a guy who knows how to sort things.”
“Yeah, um, thanks. Hey, you clearly have a good flow going here. I don’t want to mess that up. Larinda and I have to work anyway. Maybe later?”
He gives me a cautioning look. “Well, there probably won’t be anything left to do later. I have to get these to Jarvis by oh-eleven-hundred-zero hours.”
Since that was two hours ago (and not remotely correct), I’m confident he doesn’t know how military time works.
“I totally understand and will live with the disappointment. Good luck.”
I twist a quick smile, while transferring some belongings to my overnight bag. I’ll just freshen up at Larinda’s place. I have a feeling Chad will take his role as host way too seriously for my comfort and I don’t need him holding the towel for me when I get out of the shower.
“Okay, well, text me when you’re finished,” he says. “Maybe we can take a walk or hit the pool. I saw a tree I want to check out before it gets dark. I didn’t even know they had trees in Indianapolis!” he laughs.
“Sounds good. I’ll let you know, but don’t wait for me. I’d hate for you to miss the… tree.”
He returns to his mint sorting, and I sneak out before he can stop me again.