“To hell with you… I loved that band,” he said as he sat up slowly, his body stiff with exhaustion. “For one thing, he was from your country, so show a little respect. Second, auto-erotic asphyxia is highly underrated. Maybe you should try it sometime.”
“Who says I haven’t?” Tall Tommy replied, his sarcasm laced with an Australian accent.
He smiled and nodded. This would only be his third time working with Tall Tommy, but he’d liked him from the moment they’d first met. One look at the handsome, twenty-something Aussie told him that Tall Tommy was the kind of guy who won every athletic competition he entered, aced every class he studied and deflowered every cheerleader he came across as a kid before heading off to college for a repeat performance. He had the naturally-graced gift of chiseled looks and perfect physique that women adored and lesser men detested, but beneath his mockingly self-absorbed behavior, he seemed clean of any genuinely prickish qualities. One thing he knew for certain about Tall Tommy from their first project together in Mexico City was that he was both razor-sharp and highly skilled. Having both him and Dublin on this project was like having Michael Jordan and Scottie Pippen together on the court; he was working with a dream team of talent.
He glanced again at his watch. 3:03am.
“Thanks for giving me a full five minutes of sleep.”
Tall Tommy shrugged as his eyebrows rose in mock surprise.
“Hey mate, you called me.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t know you were practically waiting by the goddamn door when I did.”
“Jesus Christ, Chilly… my room is two floors down,” Tommy snapped.
“I’ve just spent the last two hours lying on the bed watching a fucking Barbra Streisand movie, bored out of my head. Of course, I wasn’t really watching the movie as much as I was wondering why the hell Robert Redford would be interested in an emotionally unstable Jewish chick with big hair and questionable political views, or better yet, why the wonderful people of Nigeria would give a damn about two white American folks falling in love and having a shitty marriage.”
“‘The Way We Were’,” he replied. “That’s a great movie. Sydney Pollack flick. I think that one won an Oscar, Tommy.”
Tall Tommy glowered at him for a moment before scratching his chin with his middle finger. “Yeah, that’s absolutely awesome, and you know how much I appreciate your extensive knowledge of movies that suck, but that doesn’t make up for the fact that I’ve been stuck in this fucking hotel for the last twenty-four hours.”
“What do you mean, stuck?” he asked.
“C’mon, be reasonable,” Tommy replied, staring at him as if he were mentally challenged. “Do you really think a white guy – wait, strike that – an incredibly good-looking white guy like me can just go strolling out on the town around here and not get noticed?”
“Good point,” he answered. “Especially when you’re dressed like a Goeffrey Beene model.”
“Fuck off.”
He stood from the couch and twisted into a pronounced stretch as Tall Tommy carefully rested his satchel on the coffee table and began to unpack it. He pulled out a small, brightly labeled vile and twisted the top off, catching his colleague’s stare as he gulped back its contents.
“Relax, Chilly… it’s just B12,” he said as he casually tossed the empty vitamin container at him. “Keeps me sharp. You don’t honestly think I’m gonna poison this pristine temple of a body, do you?”
He smiled and shook his head as Tall Tommy briefly assumed the pose of a Romanesque statue, then grabbed the air in front of him and started thrusting his pelvis slowly.
“Besides, I’ve gotta keep it fresh for the ladies.”
“Christ, you and Dublin should hang out together.”
Tommy shrugged and went back to unpacking his bag. “No chance. Dublin would fuck pond scum if it had legs and a pair of breasts. He and I are not exactly playing in the same league.”
“I don’t think he’s even playing in the same species.”
Tommy laughed as he pulled a thin manila folder stamped with a 6-digit number from his satchel and flipped it open. “Any surprises for me tonight?” he asked as he thumbed through the pages.
“Nada,” he replied, his voice low and quiet. “Like clockwork so far.” He watched as Tall Tommy quickly scanned the information, his brow furrowed in concentration. Even though he’d gotten the packet days ago, this was undoubtedly the first time he’d stopped to read it.
“When did the package show up?” Tommy asked.
“About seven hours ago.”