Page 15 of The Love Scam
His bitchy Blake inner voice was right. No time to get distracted (again). It wasn’t difficult to figure out where he’d lost the thing. But that was a big, big problem. Hislifewas in that phone, now marinating in the canal. His numbers. Everyone else’s numbers. Account stuff. All his passwords. HisDeadspinapp. Not to mention the means to contact—who? TheItalian version of Social Services? Did he call the cops and report… what, exactly? How to get rid of this kid, who definitely wasn’t his? He hadn’t the vaguest idea how to begin.
Fine. Fuckingfine.He’d find a caféor a library, somewhere with free Wi-Fi, and he’d access his bank that way. They could still move money for him. Amex could still FedEx a new card; he’d be a real person again by 10:00A.M.local time tomorrow.
Where are you going to sleep tonight? Correction: Where are the two of you going to sleep tonight?
He’d worry about that later. First things first: stealing Wi-Fi. He had to find a place that would (a) let him in so he could (b) borrow someone’s phone or laptop in order to (c) use their free Wi-Fi. All this without (d) buying anything, or (e) showing ID. He could eliminate every hotel right off the bat. Oh, and it had to be somewhere close, because he had no money for a vaporetto. Which was too bad, because he loved the vaporettos.
And he had to do it all with a kid in tow.
Normally, none of that would be a problem. Well, maybe the last part. But even then, not much of one: Rake was a vain realist. But normally he didn’t start his day by taking a bath in a toilet.
Several humiliating rejections later (Who knew the wordewtranslated into so many languages?), the kid stepped up, grabbed his hand, and put those big dark Matchbook Girl eyes to work.My daddy and I are lost, his phone was stolen, they threw him in the canal, can we please use your phone to call for help?
Damn. She was good. Worked on the second guy she tried it on, and—
Wait. That was Italian. Had she been speaking Italian the entire time and he’d only now noticed? The question must have showed on his face, because Lillith replied, “We’re in Italy. What else would I speak?”
“But…you’renot…”
“No, I’m a ’Merican.” She paused, then added helpfully, “I was born in Las Vegas. Then we moved to Colorado. But Mama talked Italian to me as much as English;hermama came from Sicily.”
“Hey, I was born in Las— Grazie,” he said fervently, clutching the proffered phone.
The person who lent him his was, ironically, still a kid himself. The dark-skinned teen, who could have been central casting’s dream Roma Gypsy but for the blue eyes, was probably a pickpocket—he kept a wary eye fixed for cops—and Rake most certainly wasn’t going to judge. Neither was Lillith, who thanked him prettily and got an amused “Sei la benvenuta, sorellina”*in response.
He nearly fell on the teenager’s neck and wept with gratitude, but contented himself with taking the phone and logging in to his bank’s site, which took a hundred times longer than usual without his apps.You’re putting your name and password into a stranger’s phone, moron.Yes. He was. Whatever. He’d move everything but a thousand bucks, fuck it, let the kid take it. He’d never miss it.
Except.
“Fuck!”
The kid laughed at him. Rake supposed he couldn’t blame him. If it had been happening to someone else, he probably would have laughed, too. Or at least giggled.
The good news? No need to worry about being robbed when someone’s already taken all your money.
Ten
I might be in real trouble.
The thought had little weight. It was more like an intellectual puzzle, a mental Rubik’s Cube. He felt faint concern
(how am I going to figure this out?)
and sometimes his brain got stuck in a confused loop
(the money’s gone? the money’s gone? the money’s gone?)
and Lillith kept intruding
(what am I doing with this kid?)
but that was all. Like he was watching a movie. A great movie with a handsome yet cool star everybody rooted for, including him.Go, Team Rake!Was it because he was normally a cool customer, unmoved by the ups and downs of life? Someone who kept his head no matter what was going on, and thus could tackle any problem that came his way with collected, quick confidence?
Nope; that was Blake. Rake tended to roll with the punches (or drunken Lake Como shenanigans). Even now he kept thinking,I’ll just grab my credit card and— No I won’t. I can just use my phone to— No I can’t. I’ve got enough cash left to—No I don’t.His brain, used to using money to solve everything since he was a teenager, was having trouble keeping up with current events: There were no cards. There was no money. There was a kid, though. For some ungodly reason.
He explained this to Lillith, who was heroically unperturbed. “I told you,” she said. “I have money.”
“I’m not taking your babysitting money, hon.”
