Auntie Kim glanced at Clark, smiling as she whispered something, and the valet laughed as he stepped back, then caught her car keys. “Take extra special care of her for me, okay Bobby?”
“You bet, Mrs. H,” Bobby said, sliding into the seat.
Clark watched the car roll away until Auntie Kim beckoned him forward with a tug at his hand. “Mrs. H?” he asked, still looking back.
“His last name is Hernandez. Just wishful thinking on his part, as I keep telling him.”
Clark tried to work out a witty comment but remained stuck on the fact that Bobby Hernandez wasn’t much older than he was.
“Pick that up for me,” said Auntie Kim, pointing at her suitcase. “Let’s go up to the room first, then we’ll have to do a bit of shopping, then dinner.”
“What are you shopping for?”
“A jacket for you, for starters. I bet you were planning to show up to your parents’ do in that hooded sweater, weren’t you?”
“It’s my best hooded sweater,” Clark said. “Listen, Auntie Kim, I’m already mooching this ride, I can’t let you…”
“You can’t let me?” Auntie Kim cut him off. “You listen, Clark. Dragging you back home to go to this party is my anniversary gift to your folks, and I’ll be damned if my present is going to show up wrapped in a hoodie. You won’t ask for anything, so I’m just gonna give it to you. You’re going to take it, and instead of arguing with me, you’re gonna say ‘thank you, Auntie Kim, you’re beautiful when you’re being so kind and generous.'”
“Thank you, Auntie Kim. You’re so gorgeous when magnanimous, it makes me want you to give me even more stuff.”
She laughed. “I’m only going to buy you stuff I like, though.”
“That’s probably for the best, but I was referring specifically to dinner.”
“Of course, kiddo,” she said, linking his arm with hers. “This whole weekend is my treat. I could see the look on your face when I described the restaurant, but money is truly no object here.”
“Thank you so much, Auntie Kim,” he said. “Your generosity is only surpassed by your loveliness.” He added, “I’m really hungry.”
“Do you want to grab something from the café while I check in? Don’t ruin your appetite though.”
“Never,” he said, trying not to let his gaze wander over her curvy form as he stepped away from her. “I’ve always got an appetite.”
“Put it on my account. Anything you want, it’s on me.”
“Thanks, Auntie Kim,” he said.
The muffins were eight dollars each! Cookies were four, pieces of cake twirling beneath the lights in the display case ranged in price from sixteen to nineteen dollars. Clark rubbed the back of his neck. “Two chocolate chip cookies and a cup of coffee, please, and Kim Merchant said to charge it to her room.”
The barista looked him up and down, appearing unimpressed. “Your key?”
“Kim went to go check in, she said…”
“I need a key or cash.”
“Keep it, then,” Clark said. Walking back across the lobby, he met Auntie Kim and she already looked annoyed, so he didn’t mention being turned down at the café. He didn’t have to.
“Who was working the counter?” she asked, leading the way back.
“I didn’t catch his name.”
“I can already guess,” she said. Her cheeks and lips were flushed, her eyes narrowed as they entered the café off the main foyer and set on the barista. “Yup, exactly what I expected.”
The Barista paled when he glanced up and noticed their approach. His lips moved in the words, ‘oh shit’. He tried to look busy as they reached the counter, then greeted them with a smile and a very poor attempt at surprise, as though just noticing who had come in. “Oh, Ms. Merchant,” he said. “Welcome back, can I help you?”
“You can explain to me how you keep forgetting about the arrangement I have here.”
“I… I didn’t, but…”
“I was standing right here when Carol explained to you that anything I want, anything my guests want, is provided without delay. This man is my guest, so give him a fucking muffin.”
“He asked for cookies, and I didn’t think he could be a guest of yours. The way you’ve gone on about your standards…”
“I didn’t realize I was such hot shit around here people pretend to know me just to get free cookies!” Auntie Kim said. “You think this guy is below me, you little prick? Below you? Because he doesn’t fit the mold? Because you think I bring too many guests here for the night? Because you don’t get that this snobby fucking attitude of yours is what I find so unappealing? Give the man his fucking cookies.”
“Here you are, sir,” said the barista, not without sarcastic emphasis on the last word, as he handed the cookies over on a plate.
Clark took them off the plate and took a bite of one. “Thanks,” he said.
“You still want that coffee, too? How do you take it?”
“Sure, thanks,” said Clark. “Black.”
“A pleasure to serve the newest boy-toy of the illustrious Kim Merchant,” the barista assured him with a smile and a wink. “Enjoy your stay.”
Clark stepped back with his coffee and took a sip as Auntie Kim stepped up to the counter. “My standards certainly aren’t defined by your approval, you waste of breath.”
“It’s none of my business,” he said, straightening his tie. “You’ve made that clear.”
“Good. Come along Clark,” she said. She turned on her heels and Clark watched her a moment, shoving the entirety of the second cookie in his mouth so he could pick up her suitcase.
“You must have a huge cock,” the barista said, his voice low. He frowned at Clark shaking with cookie-muffled laughter. “What’s your secret, you lucky little fuck?”
“It’s a secret,” Clark replied with his mouth full before following the woman from the café. She moved fast across the foyer, up the huge set of steps that narrowed by about half as it curved around the reception area. He had to jog up the stairs to join her side by the time they reached the second floor.
“Are you okay, Auntie Kim?” he asked.
She sighed, shaking her head. “I’m sorry about that.”
“About what? Walking too fast?”
She laughed. “No, about that guy being a dick to you. About my reaction to it. I was already annoyed because they shifted my reservation.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s a convention at the arena tomorrow, antiques or something. They filled up, so they changed my reservation to my usual room.” She stopped at a dark oak door labelled, ‘Executive Suite’ and slid her key card through the slot.
The lights came on as they entered the elegantly furnished sitting room of the suite, the kitchenette and very large closet on the right side. Clark walked past that, placing Kim’s suitcase on a round table and sliding his backpack off to set on a chair. “This is really fancy,” he said, looking around at the amenities.
“Only one bedroom, though,” Auntie Kim said, frowning. “How do you feel about the couch? I could have them bring a cot up.”
Clark fell onto the soft, luxuriant cushions of the sofa and bounced into laying position. “It’s nicer than my bed,” he assured her, putting his hands behind his head. At first, he thought his easy-going approval put a smile back on Auntie Kim’s beautiful lips, but the movement of her eyes over his body as she stood over him made him reconsider. He liked her attention but became self-conscious in it. He cleared his throat as he sat.
“Sorry,” she said, snapping out of her daze. “I must be tired from the road. Let’s get you dressed and then we can eat and go to bed. I mean I can,” she corrected herself hurriedly. “We’ll eat but not… I’ll go to bed, you’ll go to couch.”
Clark liked the way her cheeks darkened in his gaze as he stood next to her. “Sure thing, Auntie Kim,” he said. “Thanks for everything. My desire for you to buy me stuff is only matched by my desire for you.” He laughed awkwardly when she stepped back side-eyeing him. “Too much?”
She laughed back, shaking her head as she walked to the door. He wanted to step up behind her and hold her but didn’t. He wanted to touch her so bad he ached, but he didn’t. His heart began to beat faster when she took his arm again, holding his hand. She told him as they walked about how the hotel had several high-end boutiques, explaining the synergy of the operation. She picked him out very nice clothes that had no prices, even the socks and underwear were probably worth a fortune. She bought him a pair of shoes and a pen that came in a case. He didn’t want any jewelry, but she still bought a silver cross on a thick chain because his mother would like it. Outfitted, he looked at himself in the full-length mirror. As he straightened his tie, Auntie Kim came up next to him. Her plump lips parted breathlessly but closed again without saying anything. She blushed as she nodded. “Presentable,” she said. “I guess we can finally get something to eat.”
Clark rubbed his hands together, then offered her his arm. “Milady,” he said, bowing like he had when he was nine. She took his arm and leaned against him as they walked to the restaurant. She was obviously proud to be seen with him, and that made him proud.
They shared a bottle of wine at dinner, though not evenly. She said he could just have one glass, but he didn’t mind. When Auntie Kim drank wine, she was so much fun. She was bubbly and couldn’t seem to keep her hands still, always stroking her glass or her face, the edge of the table, sometimes his hand or his arm. She laughed at almost everything he said, and her strange sense of humor got even more brazen, until it was harder to tell if she really was just kidding.
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