Y'know, Kip has his obvious flaws, but forty minutes is surprisingly not bad. Good for him.
Later, Veronica propped herself up in the hotel bed by her elbows. “You know I can’t let you take pictures, baby,” she admonished Kip, who was pointing his phone camera at her.
“They’re just for me, don’t worry.”
Veronica sat up. “I’m serious. Delete them.”
“Yeah, I’m not gonna do that.”
Veronica grabbed the thin man by his shoulders and flung him bodily into the hallways, clad only in a hotel towel. She tossed his clothes after him and slammed the door, flipping the safety latch.
“P, this is V,” she texted with Kip’s phone. “The john decided to take a few candid holiday snaps, so I yoinked his phone. I’m gonna need a remote wipe and probably a cloud services scrub on this number, please!”
“V, thank God. The scrub’s already in progress,” came the swift reply.
Veronica frowned. “You already knew? How about giving a girl a heads up?”
“I don’t understand. Did Maeve not tell you?”
Veronica thumbed on the shift lock. WHAT IN THE NAME OF FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT
“She answered your phone and I sent her to get you—forty minutes ago! She’s been silent ever since.”
Veronica sprinted to the sliding glass door, clad only in a hotel bedsheet. “No no no no no!”
“MAAAAAEVVE!” she screamed out into the night.
“Oi, shaddap, yeh daft slag!” came a faint response.
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