Max - Bey Deckard Page 0,28

offered me a tidy sum to make something like this. It was simple kismet that you provided the perfect dialogue just when I was looking to do it myself… I don’t think I would have done quite as good a job. Such imagination!” Dimpled commas appeared in Max’s cheeks as he appraised his work. “Do you like it?”

“No. Not one bit. Delete it.” The older figure on the screen was frozen in a leer. Crane was glad the bedroom wasn’t dark enough to render the scene in crisper detail.

“No can do, sweetheart. I’ve already sent the first draft to the customer. Besides… No one will know it’s you. It’s our little secret, hm?”

Crane balled his fist in his lap, taking another tiny sip of his drink. Zero… He had zero leverage against Max. “Just… Turn it off. I don’t want to see it,” he mumbled, resigned.

The 3D figures were replaced by a field of wildflowers, the sky above blue and streaked with frayed ribbons of white clouds.

“Better?”

“Mm.” Crane closed his eyes and exhaled through the throbbing pain in his skull. He felt the bed sink next to him. “Where’s my phone?” he asked, rubbing his face. “Did you take it?”

“Yup. You kept trying to call yer ol’ lady last night. I had to take it away from you before you made an ass of yourself. You’re supposed to be at a convention… not getting seriously inebriated and putting your cock inside your favourite patient. Repeatedly.”

Crane curled his lip.

“What?” laughed Max. “Last night you swore I was your favourite patient.”

Crane peered at him. Max’s dark eyes were creased and his mouth turned up at the corners, but it was a mask. There was a predatory gleam behind his cheerful teasing. “Max… Just give me my fucking phone.”

Max padded away, naked except for his light-blue boxers, and returned with Crane’s phone. It was turned off. When it had finished booting up, he saw in a panic that there were unread messages from Mary. She was worried because she hadn’t heard from him. Worried… or suspicious?

Suspicious? Mary doesn’t suspect that you’re a lying, cheating sack of shit.

Crane read through earlier messages, starting at the first one supposedly sent from him the night before: Hi babe. I’m just going through my notes and then I’m going to get some sleep. Thought I’d say goodnight now.

Nervous about your talk?

A little. But I’m sure it’ll be okay. I’ll get up early and get a big breakfast. They serve something called a Weekend Boot Camp Continental breakfast at the MTCC. Power smoothies and ancient grains risotto.

La-dee-dah monsieur. LOL

Oh and there’s a hypnotism thing in the south building. I might pop in there and sit in on a talk or two.

Sounds fun? ;)

Should be interesting. Anyway, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

Sleep well! I miss you.

You too. I love you. xxx

Love you too! xo

Crane lifted his eyes to Max.

Max shrugged. “I was good, see? She had no idea that you were actually hurling your guts out in my commode at the time.”

“I don’t like you impersonating me.”

“What would you rather me do? Just let the poor woman worry? You fiend!”

“I have to call her. Christ, it’s past noon? What am I going to tell her?”

Before he could stop him, Max plucked the phone out of his hand and danced back away from the bed. Crane reached for him but was overcome by a wave of pain and nausea and clutched at his head, staring miserably at Max as he dialed his phone.

“Yes, hello. Am I speaking to Mary Crane? Yes? This is the Metro Toronto Convention Centre. I’m looking for Dr. Dennis Crane. He was supposed to give a lecture at twelve fifteen, but he hasn’t shown up yet to pick up his badge and isn’t answering his phone. He left this as a backup number in his file… uh-huh? Uh-huh? Oh my…” Max winked at Crane and then made a yak-yak-yak motion with his free hand. “Well, yes, I will have him— Oh! One moment, I think that’s him.” Max put his hand loosely over the microphone and kept speaking loudly. “Dr. Crane? Oh, good. Here is your badge. You need to exit this door here and take the next door marked Stage. Yes, it’s purple, you can’t miss it. Oh! I have your wife on the line… apologies… yes… I was just making sure that we didn’t have to shift the schedule forward. What should I tell her? Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Well, good luck, Dr. Crane.” Max cleared