The Vibe Manager

Chapter 39

Pacing the sidewalk, I was awash in confusion. I wasn't just having feelings, I was crowd-surfing on them, and not in a good way....

At least ma' dog Raf had played it cool — not a word about having been in touch with anyone in Madre's office. Monkey fetish aside, the dude was solid.

The problem, though, was that everything else was still a hot mess.

Okay, he'd hit the eject button on the French chick, but he didn't sound very happy about that — or anything else.

Then — Monkey dramz! The researchers who re-programmed his special couple obvs needed a course in Vibe Management ASAP.

And speaking of that — how could I forget?— Jade had run out on Rafael again! And where was she now?

When I texted her to say I would be home for dinner, her reply was:    kthxbye.

Not warm.

I was heading back to our apartment to see if she was all right and fish for some intel on what she planned to do about all this when my cell erupted with the haunting ringtone I'd programmed for Rafael: the opening section of Aerosmith's power ballad Dream On. A sixteen-bar Mellotron intro of awesomeness, ending in a heartsick client.

"Yo, Raf!"

All I could hear was heavy breathing.

"Raf? You there, dude?"

"Of course I'm here. Where else would I be, Joe? I'm on the other end of your phone...."

OMG, drunk dialing.

"Where are you, Raf? Are you with Jade?"

"Bah Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!"

I held the phone away from my ear. The inebriated, hysterical Math Man almost made me nostalgic for the Sainted Rafael.

"What's happening? Did you meet up with her?"

Then I heard him ordering another drink. Based on when he'd left Madre's office and the way he sounded, he'd been pounding one after another ever since.

"Are you at your hotel, Raf — ?"

Please....please be at your hotel. At least be near a doorman or a good Samaritan.

"Can you come?" he asked.

"Wha—?"

"To my hotel. She's...."

"Focus, Raf. Focus."

"I rarely drink..."

"I couldn't tell..."

"She's married, Joe."

"What? Slow your roll, Raf. Well, you're rolling too slowly already, to be honest — Definitely don't slow your breathing any more — you'll go into a coma. But sort of slow down the story. Can you do that? Like, pretend I'm a little kid."

"Sure."

I waited. "Raf, are you there?"

"You said slow."

"Okay — go!"

"Children's story?"

"Yes!"

"Once upon a time — an active female shooter burst into a Bavarian saloon with her six-gun blazing...."

WTF?????????????????????????????????????

I couldn't let on that I'd witnessed the whole mess.