CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE
Jack woke later than usual,pulled from sleep by the heat of midday and the sunlight seeping under the curtains.
The still air was stifling. Sweat beaded on his skin, soaked his hair. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, so dry that he struggled to swallow.
“Fuck,” he mumbled, sitting up. The alarm clock’s red numbers mocked him. 12:04.
Jack jumped to his feet.
Boris hadn’t called. Nor had Carla.
Were they alright?
He fumbled for his shirt, decided he didn’t have time for all the buttons, and settled for an undershirt instead. Once he’d hopped into his pants and crammed his feet into his shoes, he tore down the stairs, taking them two at a time, bolting across the lobby to the front desk, where a confused Boris glanced up from a book.
A book. Not a magazine. Not a ledger. An actual book.
“You OK, there?”
“Yeah,” said Jack, panting. “Hey, what day?—”
“Seventeenth,” said Boris smoothly. “I asked some guy.”
“Are you sure he’s right?”
“I don’t know,” Boris scoffed. “Go outside and ask somebody if you’re so worried.”
“Where’d the book come from?”
“Boss keeps it in the back room. He’s been reading it for, like, a month. I finally realized why the magazine wasn’t hitting. Turns out, I can’t look at the same bikini a hundred times and maintain a healthy appreciation.” Boris licked his fingers, flipped another page.
Jack chewed his lip, reminded himself that nowwasn’tthe time to wonder about Boris’s sexuality, if the things he said meant anything or not. “Yeah, I get that. How are you feeling? Any better?”
The shadows under his eyes were less severe, more purple than black.
“Yeah,” said Boris. “A little bit. Thanks.”
“Anytime,” said Jack, nodding more to himself than to Boris.
“You feeling OK?”
“Yeah,” said Jack. “Why?”
“Uh, mostly ‘cause you’re in half a suit and you’re sweaty as hell.”
“I’m gonna go take care of that,” Jack said.
“Don’t worry about it on my behalf,” said Boris. His gaze lingered just a moment too long, before flicking back to the book.
Right. Jack’s heart leapt at the implication. “Hey, if anyone calls?—”
“I’ll patch her through.” Boris waved a hand.
“How come you didn’t call me?”
Blue eyes widened. “Oh. I thought you would want to sleep. I took up your bed half the night, remember?”
