Page 190 of Charming Like Us

But there’s no time to eat.

Not when the fair grounds are jam-packed. Tickets sold out in less than an hour, and all the Hales, Meadows, and Cobalts are in attendance.

Comms chatter is soft in my ear, so I’m aware of everyone’s location. How Maximoff and Farrow are on the Ferris wheel with their son, a bucket above Thatcher and Jane. Most of the Cobalts hang around the carnival game booths, and the Meadows family have been bopping around the higher adrenaline rides.

My main focus stays on the carousel.

For the past thirty minutes, my client has been lounging on one of the few double-bench chairs shaped like a boat. He’s smoking a cigarette, reading a book, and ignoring the girls that try to converse with him from nearby carousel horses, bobbing up and down. I’ve lost count of the rotations the carousel has made, but no one tries to kick him off.

Normally, I’d be the one standing right next to Charlie. But these kinds of rides, even the slow-ass carousel make me want to puke. Instead, I’ve sent in Gabe to hug onto the pole next to Charlie’s bench.

Evening approaches, but the sun hasn’t set yet, making it easier to do my job.

Donnelly rounds the corner with a plate of funnel cake. My stomach lets out an audible groan. “Donnelly,” I say. “Please say that’s for me.”

“Why else would I come over here?” He holds out the plate, and nods to Jesse. “Hey, little J.”

Camera equipment weighs down Jack’s little brother as he films a wide shot of Charlie on the carousel. Ten minutes ago, I took pity on the kid and grabbed one of the bags. It’s heavy on my shoulder, but it won’t break my back like Jesse.

“Where’s Big J?” Donnelly asks me.

“Jack,” I emphasize, “is heading over. He just got done shooting Luna.” I rip off a chunk of the fried dough. “This smells fucking amazing, bro.”

“The deal was dope, too. Some girl offered to give it to me. All I had to do was spit in her mouth.”

Ugh. I drop the funnel cake piece back on the plate. “That’s disgusting.”

He picks my chunk and tosses the fried dough onto his tongue. “I didn’t spitinthe funnel cake, man.” He licks powdered sugar off his thumb. “I spit in her mouth.”

“Bro, I got that part. It’s still gross. This wasn’t yours.”

“It is now,” he says. “She only had like three bites before she gave it to me.”

So gross. So fucking gross. I rub my hand down my pants, wishing I had some sanitizer right now. Love Donnelly, but I don’t want to touch anything from someone who’d pay to spit in his mouth.

Jesse glances at us with a grimace. “Why did she want you to spit in her mouth?”

Donnelly shrugs. “I dunno. Said she thought the Ass-Kicker SFO bodyguard was hot. But pretty sure her friends dared her to do it.” He smiles. “Jokes on them. I got this.” He holds up the plate of funnel cake like it’s made of gold.

Know the feeling.

Don’t feel it now.

Donnelly’s attention deviates to the carousel. “Are those dragons?”

“Yeah.” Along with horses and boats, people can ride unicorns and dragons.

“Xander would’ve loved this.” Donnelly glances around at the amassing people, the sun beginning to drop behind the rides and food stands. “Not these crowds though. Fuck me, there are a lot people here.”

While Xander’s at home, SFO put a temp on his detail, letting Donnelly join the carnival’s security for the night.

Jesse nods to me. “I’m going to get a shot from the other side of the carousel.”

He leaves, and Donnelly stares at the bag on my shoulder for a long beat.

“Bro, just spit it out.”

“I was just thinking,” Donnelly says, “that Kitsuwon’s giant-sized manual clearly states not to carry production equipment forWe Are Calloway. You a rulebreaker now or what?”