The Worst Best Man(27)

“We can ask after we find Chip.”

“Right. Okay. I’m focused,” she promised. “What’s the plan here?” Frankie asked, nodding at the woman behind the desk.

“Charm first.”

“Good evening, sir. How may I be of service?” Hilde, according to her name tag, was tall and reed slim. She looked as though nothing in the world could ruffle her.

“Hello, Hilde. I’m looking for my friend’s room, and I’m embarrassed to say I can’t remember the number.” Frankie, pretending to be bored, wandered away from the desk over to the koi pond and out Hilde’s line of sight.

“I see. What is your friend’s name, please?”

Aiden did his best to look chagrined. “My friend’s name is Chip. But the room is registered to someone else. Chip is about this tall. Blonde hair. This is his first night here.”

Hilde gave him a wan smile. “I’m sorry, sir. But I’m not permitted to divulge guest information. What is your room number, please?”

Aiden patted his jacket as if he were looking for a room key. “Let me look… Babe, do you have our room key?”

At that moment, two women, sufficiently intoxicated, stumbled past Frankie. “An’ then I poked a hole in the condom, told him I was on birth control, and vi-ol-a! I’m a millionaire, and he paid to fix my tits.”

“You’re like the worst human being ever,” the other crowed.

“I know, right?”

Frankie’s move was so fast Aiden almost missed it. One moment Millionaire Tits was stumbling across the marble floor, and the next, she was falling face-first into the koi pond.

The woman’s screeches combined with Frankie’s calls for help had Hilde grabbing a walkie-talkie from behind the desk and scurrying off toward the hub-bub.

“Hurry up,” Frankie hissed, appearing at his side. “Stand guard.” She shimmied behind the desk and sat in the vacated chair. “Shit. Password protected.”

The screaming had yet to quiet down, so Aiden poked his head over the desk. “Option one, we crack the password ourselves. Option two, we make Hilde give us the password.” He was weighing the pros and cons when Frankie’s fingers flew over the keys.

“Ha. Got it.”

“You just cracked the password?” Aiden asked. Did the woman have no limits?

She snorted. “Don’t have to crack it when they tape it to the monitor for me. Okay, I’m in. Who are we looking for? No one’s registered as Kidnapper or Wedding Ruiner.”

Aiden skirted behind the desk, hopeful that the koi pond distraction would hold. “Just scroll through the reservations,” he ordered, scanning the monitor.

“You think you’re going to magically recognize the name of the kidnapper?” Frankie asked.

“Shut up. There,” he pointed at the screen. “Room 314. Three nights. Who’s it registered to?”

“No name. Just a business. El-Kil Corporation,” Frankie read out loud.

Fuck. Aiden felt the sucker punch to his gut. He should have known.

“Oh, look! It’s gotta be them. Two hours ago they ordered a tuna salad sandwich with crushed up chips on it. Chip’s favorite! At least we know they’re feeding him. That’s good, right?”

“Good. Yeah.” Aiden murmured.

“Oh, shit.” Frankie exited out of the program and grabbed him. He heard the click of heels on the marble. They only made it as far as the marble column next to the desk. When Hilde and the fish pond woman appeared with a small entourage.

“Let me call housekeeping and get you some fresh towels and a robe,” Hilde offered a soaked and shrieking celebutante.

“A fish swam down my dress. Do you think a robe is going to make me feel better after I was attacked by sushi?” the woman howled.

Hilde’s eyes narrowed when she spotted Frankie and Aiden standing next to the desk. Aiden thought about kissing Frankie again since it had worked so well the first time, but Frankie was faster.

She slapped him across the face so hard his head snapped backwards on his neck.

“You know it bothers me when you slip your sister the tongue. I don’t care how many years you spent in boarding school in Europe. That still doesn’t make it right!” Frankie’s voice echoed off the marble drawing every eye in the lobby.

“A. She’s my half-sister,” Aiden said, jumping on the crazy train that Frankie was engineering “And B. I can’t help it if I come from an affectionate family!”

“Oh, puh-lease!” Frankie’s scoff nearly knocked her off her feet. “Affectionate? Your grandmother grabbed my ass at Thanksgiving.”

“She wanted to see how the butt lift I paid for turned out.” He nodded toward the exit.

“Excuse me. I earned this butt lift!”

They kept up the argument for posterity’s sake, storming away from the front desk. As they passed, Aiden heard one of the audience whispering.

“What can you expect from a reality TV star and a male prostitute?”

News traveled fast.

He hauled Frankie outside. She started laughing the second their feet hit the resort’s grand circular drive. “You’re insane,” he told her.

“Oh, please. I saw that look on your face. You were thinking about kissing the hell out of me back there. And it wouldn’t have worked the second time around.”