Page 37 of Roma King
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then reaches into a backpack that’s hanging off an I.V. stand, and takes out a cell phone. The cell phone I brought to him earlier this morning.
“These newer models are getting harder,” he says, as he hands the device over to me. “Took twice as long as the old Samsung model. Motherfuckers.”
I take the phone from him, slipping it straight into my pocket. “None of the data was lost? The passcode hasn’t been changed?”
Seo-Jun shakes his head. “I’m not a fucking amateur, Rivin. Everything’s exactly where it’s supposed to be. The passcode’s 2988. Want me to write it down?”
“I got it.”
“Quite the looker,” he says, winking at me. “I accidentally caught an eyeful of some of the photos. I’ve always liked blondes best, but now I’m not so sure. Maybe I’m a red-head guy now.”
I bare my teeth at him—it happens instinctively. “Don’t even think about it,” I snarl.
“Woah. Sorry, man.” He pats at his mouth with a paper napkin, picking up the can of Coke that’s sitting on his desk and cracking it open. “Didn’t mean to offend. You know me. I’m a sucker for a pretty face is all.”
He truly is, too. I’ve witnessed the man snorting blow off of a hooker’s tits in this office. Come to think of it, I’ve seen him do far, far worse in here…
“What’s the deal with this one, anyway?” he asks. “She looks pretty wholesome. Not that I’ve ever seen you with a woman, but I’ve always pictured you with someone a little more, how should I put this? Slutty?”
“None of your business, fucker,” I grind out, but I can feel the beginnings of a smile forming on my face.
Seo-Jun slaps his hand to his chest. “Holy shit! What isthis? Pasha Rivin is smiling? Inmyoffice? Alert the media.”
“Fuck you, man.” I get to my feet, ready to get the hell out of here. The cellphone feels like it’s burning a hole in my pocket.
“Don’t worry about paying. This one’s on the house,” Seo-Jun says, still grinning at me like a fucking moron. “Just let me know when you’re fighting next so I can make some serious bank. I’ve been burning through my trust fund like a lunatic.”
“Sounds fair.” I lean over his desk and pick up his Coke, taking a deep drink from the can as I head for the door.
“Asshole,” Seo-Jun yells after me. “That was my last one!”
Pausing in the doorway, I raise the can like I’m toasting to his health. “I’m doing you a favor.You’re a dentist. You do know how much sugar’s in this stuff, right?”
Back in the Mustang, I sit in the driver’s seat, and I cave. I was planning on waiting until I got back to the loft to look through the phone, but my own impatience is eating me alive.
I need to see her face. I need to hear her voice.
Most importantly of all, I need to know her name.
I key in the security passcode Seo-Jun just told me, and the phone unlocks, waking up in my hands. I’ve never cared about technology before. People spend way too much fucking time on their phones. But right now, I’m so thankful for all of the apps, the emails, the photos, the social media…
The idiot’s guide to my firefly’s life is sitting right here in my hands, and I can access it all. I don’t need to fumble blindly in the dark. The answer to every single question that’s ever plagued me about her is now right here in some form or another. I hit the home button, and the icons are all there: Facebook. Twitter. Instagram. Tumblr. Gmail. Her calendar. The works.
I raise my finger, about to hit the Facebook button, but then something weird happens.
I can’t.
I can’t fucking do it.
I’ve never bothered to rifle through someone else’s personal information before, but I didn’t think I would have a problem with it. Especially not under these circumstances. But now that I’m here, and every single personal, private detail of my firefly’s life is before me, ripe for the picking, my conscience won’t allow me to fucking do it. I can’t breach her trust before I’ve even fucking earned it.
And besides…
This is not how I’ve imagined it. I want to know everything there is about her. I want to know her better than any other person on the face of the planet. But I want her to give me her secrets and her stories. The idea oftakingthem now feels so fucking wrong that I dump her phone into the passenger seat and I smash my fist into the dashboard, cursing under my breath.
Fuck.
I at least need to know her name. Ihaveto know that. I pick up her phone again, but before I can even get the chance to look for it, I’m saved from having to go searching. A text message chimes, and it’s right there on the screen.
