“I’m sorry, but it’s company policy.” The friendly middle-aged man behind the counter at the cell-phone store blinked at her. He reminded her a little of a frog with over-round eyes and an equally round face. The fact that his shirt was the color of algae probably didn’t help. His name badge read Steve. She didn’t like Steve at the moment.
“But I told you, I’ve lost my ID.” Not exactly true, but close enough.
“There must be an exception to the rule,” David said, resting a hand on her arm. “People lose their wallets and phones all the time. You don’t refuse to replace them all, so what’s the catch?”
“No catch.” Steve pointed to the sign over the back counter. “It’s our policy.”
“Hold on,” Bonnnie said. “If I requested a new phone online they wouldn’t need my ID to mail it to me, would they?”
Steve blinked again as if the thought hadn’t occurred to him. “I suppose they wouldn’t.”
“So we can just approach it that way,” David clarified.
“Can’t do it.” Steve pointed behind him again. “Policy.”
Bonnie’s temper caught. “Now look here, Steve—” she began.
“Excuse us a moment.” David strode toward the door and gestured for her to follow him. “Don’t alienate the only person who can get you what you want.”
“Apparently he can’t because of ‘company policy.’” She made air quotes with her fingers. She looked out the window, saw the bookstore they’d just left. “Unless…wait here. Oh, do you have a dollar?”
“Yeah, sure. What’s…?”
She didn’t wait for him to finish his ques-tion. Bonnie bolted from the phone store and returned with a newspaper, hurrying directly back to Steve.
“It’s not an ID, but it’s me.” She slapped the paper down on the counter and pointed to her engagement photo staring up at them. The one thing about being from a royal and popular family was that almost every fucking thing was news, and the news of leaving her wedding had been all over the place. The news in the paper now was about Prince Marcus moving on since it was certain now that she wouldnt return. The picture, she now realized, didn’t really look a thing like her. But the ring on her finger was definitely distinctive. “See?” She pointed to the ring in the photo, then her own, then stuck her face in Steve’s. “It’s me.”
He didn’t look completely convinced. “That really you?” he asked.
“It really is.”
“Wow. How come you ran away from your wedding like that?”
“Long story,” Bonnie summed up. “Look, I can give you all the information that’s on that computer,” she persisted. “Name, address, PIN number to my online account. Please. I really need that replacement phone.”
“Well, I suppose it’s worth a try. What’s the phone number again?”
Bonnie recited it again, this time through gritted teeth.
“See, honey?” David draped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “I told you he’d take care of it for you.”
Bonnie glared up at him, then felt her cheeks warm at the smile he aimed at her. Oh…my. That look in his eye… She took a deep breath and instantly wished she hadn’t. He smelled like the fresh air when they had been on the open ocean, with a hint of citrus. The mixture was intoxicating; her reaction so…distracting. And one hundred percent in-convenient. She bit her lip, tried to remember what she was supposed to be focused on.
“Thanks, honey. What would I do without you?” She fluttered her lashes and earned a quiet snort of amusement.
“How’s it going, Steve?” David asked.
“It’s going.” Steve leaned closer to the screen. “The system’s not stopping me from issuing you a new phone under the same plan, but…”
“But what?” Getting national security clearance would probably be easier at this point.
“I’m afraid we don’t have that same model in this store. As you can see, we’re pretty limited with our stock.”
Bonnie did see. The store wasn’t that much bigger than David’s boat and the display of phones lining the walls made her feel as if she’d entered another time warp to the pre-era. “Are there any I can sync with my backup in the cloud?”
“Uh, sure. I think so. Let me check in the back.”
“You get the feeling he doesn’t get many customers?” David asked when Steve disappeared through a door.
“I’m beginning to think the universe is telling me to stay unplugged. Told you I didn’t want to get that phone”
David shrugged. “Chances are whatever’s waiting for you isn’t going to be anything you want to hear.”
“Maybe. But I’d still like to get in touch with my bank.” She didn’t like the idea of spending even more of David’s money. That was infact the only reason she wanted to get in touch with her bank…not because of the phone.
“Found one!” Steve emerged from a back room, a faded yellow box in his hands. He blew off a layer of dust before rubbing the box on his shirt. “No bells and whistles, but it’s got Wi-Fi and Bluetooth and cloud access.”
“Perfect. Can you add that to my account?”
“Can, but there’s a replacement fee. Two hundred.” He set the box on the counter but inched it away when she reached for it.
“Two hundred dollars for an out-of-date phone?”
“Yep.” Steve didn’t look the least distressed. In fact, he almost looked as if he was enjoying himself. “Sorry. Company—”
“Policy, right. You know what?” She took a deep breath. “I’m going to take the hint. Let’s hit that internet café we passed on our walk here.” If she could log into her bank account she could see what her options were for ordering a new card so it would be waiting for her in High Tide Harbor. She left the cell phone store and Steve behind, with David leading her to the café.
The row of old computers inside the garishly painted building did not inspire confidence. “If it says ‘you’ve got mail’ in that creepy computer voice, I’m done,” she muttered and slid into one of the many free chairs. Behind the register, a pair of teenagers played video games on the large screens.
David grabbed them two coffees, paid for an hour of time, then sat next to her and opened one of the romantic-suspense paper-backs she’d chosen. Bonnie’s fingers froze over the keyboard as that rush of warmth she’d felt back in the cell store washed over once more. He really was unflappable.