Small Steps - Louis Sachar [56]
It took a second before Armpit realized that Jerome Paisley was expecting an answer. “Yes, sir, you’re doing great,” he said. “Look, I got to go. I’m supposed to meet Kaira downstairs.”
“Hey, have fun. Don’t mean to hold you up.”
“Thanks. Thanks for showing me the bat.” He backed out of the suite, then hurried down the hall.
Well, that was weird, he thought as he rode the elevator down to the lobby.
Kaira was waiting just outside the elevator. “It’s not nice to keep a girl waiting,” she said. She was all in flannel and denim, like a lumberjack.
Fred was standing a few steps away from her, but this time Armpit didn’t let that stop him. He went right to Kaira, grabbed her, and kissed her on the lips.
She returned the kiss, letting it linger for several seconds. Then they smiled at each other.
“I guess it was worth the wait,” she whispered.
30
“You’re going to freeze. I can’t believe you didn’t bring a jacket!” She held both his hands.
“It’s summer. It’s like a hundred degrees in Texas.”
“You’re not in Texas. You’re here, with me.”
“Well, you’re pretty hot too,” said Armpit.
She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Come on, we’ll get you a sweatshirt or something at the gift shop.”
She let go of one of his hands but still held the other as she led him into the boutique.
He began looking through the sweatshirts, trying to find one that wasn’t too cutesy, but Kaira went straight to a charcoal gray wool jacket hanging on display.
“You’d look great in this!”
It was pretty sharp. Armpit felt the fabric, which was as soft as Kaira’s flannel shirt. He was about to try it on when he saw the price. Nine hundred and ninety-five dollars.
He returned to the sweatshirts even though Kaira told him not to worry about the price. “You just charge it to your room. The tour will pay for it.”
Armpit picked out a hooded red sweatshirt that said SAN FRANCISCO on it and had a picture of a cable car. It cost a hundred and twenty dollars, but that seemed like a bargain compared to the jacket. He charged it to his room.
Kaira called him Little Red Riding Hood when he put the hood up, so he put it back down. “You want to take a walk across the Golden Gate Bridge?” she asked.
“Sounds good.”
The doorman whistled for a taxi, and Kaira asked the driver if he knew the way to the Golden Gate Bridge.
“Never heard of it,” the driver said, then winked at Armpit.
Armpit got in the backseat, and Kaira snuggled up next to him. “You take your own cab,” she told Fred.
She felt soft and cuddly, like one of Ginny’s stuffed animals.
As they pulled away from the hotel, Kaira asked Armpit for a fifty-dollar bill.
Apparently she was used to being around people who carried that kind of money. For once in his life Armpit actually had several fifties in his wallet.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” she told the driver, handing him Armpit’s fifty. “The guy following us is a total doofus. As soon as you can ditch him, let us out, then keep on going to the bridge.”
“I like your style,” the driver told her.
“Me too,” said Armpit.
Kaira sang, “I like your style/and the way you smile/just drives me wild.”
Armpit didn’t know if it was a real song or if she just made it up on the spot.
“You know, you got a really nice voice,” the driver remarked.
The cab suddenly swerved across three lanes of traffic. Kaira laughed as she fell across Armpit’s lap.
The driver told them to get ready. He turned a corner, then eased to a stop in front of a double-parked UPS truck.
“Go!”
Kaira opened the door and jumped out. Armpit only had one foot on the pavement when the driver hit the gas. He swung the door shut and grabbed Kaira’s hand to keep from falling.
They crouched down behind the large brown truck as the taxi with Fred in it drove right on by.
Jerome Paisley slipped the key card into the slot and was pleased to see the green light come on. He checked the hallway one last time, then opened the door to Armpit’s suite and stepped quickly inside.