Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
I peeked around the edge of the couch again. The men were lighting cigars. Never mind that smoking wasn’t permitted anywhere in this building. Apparently they were so privileged that they didn’t think the rules applied to them.
They obviously weren’t planning to leave any time soon, so it was time for action. I rolled off the couch, did another quick groundhog pop-up, and darted forward in a low crouch. Once I was hidden by a cluster of huge potted plants, I risked another peek at the group. No one was looking my way, so I decided to make one more dash.
My goal was to reach a door labeled employees only, which was maybe thirty feet from me. The group’s view for part of that dash would be blocked by the orca sculpture, but once I reached the door, I’d be totally exposed.
For good measure, I plucked a large leaf off one of the potted plants and held it up to hide my face. I whispered, “Please let that door be unlocked,” took a deep breath, and darted forward. I was still in a crouch, but I wasn’t sure why, since I wasn’t hiding behind anything. It just made sense to try to make myself as small as possible.
My heart was pounding as I reached the door and tried the handle. When it turned in my hand, I wanted to shout with joy.
I dove into a hallway and shut the door behind me, and then I slumped against it and sighed with relief. A moment later, I almost shit myself when someone said, “Daniel?”
I leapt up and turned toward the sound of the voice. Paul, the redhaired waiter, was standing about ten feet away, dressed in tight, low-rise jeans and a cropped blue sweater. He looked more than a little confused as he ran his gaze down the length of me, lingering on the elephant. “Oh hey, Paul,” I said, trying to sound casual. “How’s it going?”
“Good. Um…what are you doing?”
“I locked myself out of my room.” Technically, that was true. “A few members of the wedding party are out in the lobby, and I didn’t want them to see me like this.”
Paul smiled as he came up to me. “Yeah, that happens often, though most of the time the guests are dressed when they lock themselves out. I have that same jock strap, by the way. Somebody gave it to me as a gag gift.”
“Do you maybe have some clothes I could borrow? Literally anything would be better than this.” I gestured at myself with the large leaf.
“Let’s go check the employee locker room. There’s bound to be something in there.”
As I fell into step with him on our way down the hall, I tried to make small talk, in an attempt to normalize the situation. “Are you just getting off work?”
“No, I had the night off, since the restaurant is closed for the wedding. I’m dating a hot security guard named Ramon, and we occasionally hook up on his dinner break.”
“How are you getting home? I thought the ferry stopped running around sundown.”
“There’s a dorm for employees on the other end of the island. It’s where we stay when we’re working a late shift, so I’ll crash there tonight. It’s pretty basic and there’s no privacy, but it does the job.”
When we reached the changing room, Paul opened his locker and produced a cropped T-shirt. Apparently he liked to spend all of his time off with the middle of his body totally exposed.
He was a tiny guy, so the T-shirt barely fit, and I was still mostly naked. Also, the shirt had a smiling cartoon peach on it with the caption, “Don’t panic, it’s organic,” but it wasn’t like I had a lot of options.
He looked around with his hands on his hips. “I was hoping there’d be more in here. You know what, though? There’s a lot of stuff in the lost and found. Most of it’s been there for years, so no one will care if we help ourselves. Let’s go take a look.”
Fortunately, the office with the lost and found was accessible by the same behind-the-scenes hallway. When we rummaged through the box, the only bottoms we could find were a pair of XL board shorts with a loud Hawaiian print. I put them on and cinched up the drawstring before adding a kid-sized Spider-man jacket. It was too small to zip up, but at least it provided more coverage than the T-shirt.
To complete the look, Paul handed me a plastic bag containing a pair of the white slippers found in all the guest rooms. After I put them on, I held my hands out to the sides and asked, “How bad is it?”
Paul was struggling to keep a straight face. “You look like you got dressed after smoking a huge bag of weed.”