The Billionaire's CamGirl

I hit the camera icon and see my image fill up the screen. I lean in close and say, “Aye aye, Captain.”

Chris’s response surprises me.

Take off the shirt.

It’s brusque and unlike him, and it takes me aback.

“Now that’s no way to ask your girlfriend, is it?” I tease, trying to hide the annoyance I feel. Maybe he had a bad flight. I let my shoulder slink out of my shirt and show him a little skin, testing the waters to see where this is heading. “I thought you loved this shirt. I thought it made you hot.” I tease him by creeping up the shirt above my bellybutton. If he’s had a hard day, I’m game to make him feel better.

Just do it. Tits.

I stare at the screen for a minute, contemplating what’s going on here. Then my phone, set on the nightstand beside me, buzzes. Oddly, I see it’s a text coming in from Chris. I keep my face neutral and tell WildCaptain, “Hold on a minute, babe.”

I reach for the phone and see the message: Just getting into the city. Should I come to you? I place the phone down and go back to the screen, to whomever is trying to trick me and impersonate Chris.

“This would be so much better in person, don’t you think?” I purr. “I’ve missed you. Are you at the hotel yet?”

I see conversation bubbles appear and disappear at least five times. Whoever’s on the other end hadn’t anticipated I’d write that. Finally, a reply;

I switched rooms. Room 1216. Just come right up.

“Can’t wait to see you, baby,” I say, and then log off.

Five minutes later and I’m in a cab, heading downtown to see what the hell is going on. I text Chris to let him know I’m heading to the Plaza, but he should meet me downstairs in the lobby. I don’t give him any details because I’m pretty sure if it’s who I think it is trying to trick me, he’ll freak out and potentially do something stupid.

As I pull up to the hotel, I see Chris pacing in front of the entrance. I take a minute before I get out of the cab. I want to be the calm one in this situation, so I take a few deep breaths before I open the door.

He sees me immediately and comes walking over to me with a wide smile and open arms. I walk right in to them and let him envelop me, and momentarily I forget about all the drama waiting upstairs in room 1216. It feels so good to be close to Chris again, and I’m not going to let Ryan upstairs ruin this moment for me.

Chris’s nose is buried in my hair and he starts to laugh. “How is it possible that I’ve missed you so much in just five days?” he says, his eyes shining.

“Same,” I say. “But we have some unpleasant matters to attend to before a proper reunion.”

I sit him down on the bench aside from the entrance and summarize the events of the past hour. He doesn’t really react to what I’m saying, he just absorbs the information stoically. When I’m through, he doesn’t say anything.

“Chris. Say something,” I say, taking his hands and forcing him to look me in the eyes.

“I’m going to kill him,” he says, and then he’s racing through the lobby. I’m trying to keep up with him, pushing through guests, and barely make it into the elevator behind him. He’s rung for the twelfth floor.

“Please, don’t fly off the handle. From what I know of your brother, that’s what he wants. Let’s just hear him out, see what he’s trying to do.” He looks at me like I’m nuts. “Can you at least not hit him right away?” I implore, but we’re running again, down the hallway of this pretty hotel to confront some real ugliness. I’m steps away when I hear Chris pounding on the door, and when I arrive, I see Ryan, who’s opened the door wearing only his bathrobe.

Chris doesn’t hesitate, he walks right into the room and shoves Ryan, who lands on the bed in a heap. He’s covering his head expecting Chris to attack him, but Chris doesn’t. Apparently, some of my advice got through. He sits on a chair by the window and stares at his brother pitifully. Ryan stares at me, pleadingly, but I just shake my head at him.

Finally, he speaks. “Jesus Chris, she’s just a dumb broad. A fucking sex worker. It was a joke. Relax.’

“What’s the joke? I don’t get the humor.” He looks at me. “Weaver, can you explain it to me?”

“I can’t,” I say. And then I can’t help myself and I add, “The only joke I see is sitting on that bed.”

Ryan leaps to his feet. “Fuck you, bitch,” he spits in my face. Chris is up instantly and standing in front of me. Good thing for Ryan, because while I preach non-violent family communication, Ryan’s not my family and I was about to slap the asshole.