Spotless

3.

Luckily there was not a whole lot of travel to be done on the first night, just a bus ride to the capital. Saul could handle a bus ride with Fabbi if it meant he'd had a night of solitude.

Fabbi busied himself twirling a lock of his long hair around his index finger and blowing bubbles with his gum. The popping was ignorable at first, but after 30 minutes it seemed more and more like Fabbi was trying to irritate his companion.

Saul sighed heavily. "Can you please stop."

"Stop what."

"Stop making those popping noises."

Fabbi popped his gum again. "I dunno what you're talking about."

Saul marked his place in the book that he was reading, closing it and placing it in his lap. He turns to the, only slightly, younger man.

"The gum, that you're chewing right now? You are blowing these idiotic bubbles with it, right? And when those bubbles pop, it makes a very unpleasant and annoying sound. So," Saul leaned over closer, lowering his voice, "please fucking stop with the goddamn gum."

Fabbi stared daggers into Saul's eyes as he blew one last big bubble, letting it pop with its invading sound. He squints, "I don't like your fucking tone."

Saul gave up after that point, simply pulling the earmuffs he'd brought along with him on to ignore the incessant popping for the remaining 45 minute ride.

***
"Hello ma'am, we are booked under the name Fresno. Pablo Fresno?" Fabbi was leaning against the counter in the lobby of the hotel. It wasn't the fanciest hotel, but it was still better than it could have been.

The lady at the desk looked to be in her early 40s, if Saul had to guess. He could see lines permanently marking decades of smiles living by the corners of her mouth. Her nails were a glittery dark red. Saul took the time to notice them as she typed out the CEOs name on her keyboard.

"Ah, yes, I see right here! Mr. Fresno!" She got up from her chair, turning the wall of keys behind her.

She hesitated, turning back to the men. "Would you two like separate keys, or would you rather share?"

Saul raised an eyebrow, "why would we share a key if we have separate rooms?"

The lady looked confused. She quickly sat back down and typed on her keyboard again. "I'm... sorry? There is only one room booked under Pablo Fresno? A two bed suite?"

Fabbi gasped, scoffing right after, "oh that greedy motherfucker— okay. Fine. We want separate keys." He reached out, rudely snatching the key and storming off.

"Please forgive him, he has no home-training." Saul smiled politely to the lady, taking his key.

Saul was just as angry, if not to a higher degree, as Fabbi. But years in this line of work had taught him how to hold his tongue and get what he needs to done before blowing up. He'd done his fair share of taking hits for this company and smiling right through it.

Fabbi was already in the room by the time Saul had made it to their floor, Saul could guess that much from the familiar, whiny yelling coming from the other side of the door when he found the numbers associated with his key.

After a good amount of mental preparation, Saul unlocked the door and entered their shared room.