"It's not so bad. I've done it so many times that it's gotten easier. I'm a bartender." It wasn't exactly the most upscale establishment, but it helped keep suspicious eyes off of the money he kept in the bank (or the money he didn't make as much of an effort to hide, anyway), and the guy who owned the place let him get away with his odd hours in exchange for the occasional cloaking favor. It was an ideal situation.
You know, the funny thing about beaches, they have a tendency to make you too relaxed, let your guard down. of course, liquor helps that situation. Those fruity little drinks packed a serious punch, and though Cam wasn't exactly to the point of slurring and stumbling, he had reached the point where he was comfortable laughing with- and at- a stranger, and the way their conversation had turned told him Jimmy was feeling the same.
"Come on. Someone who looks like you would've made an excellent trophy husband. You could've kicked up your heels and been a kept man. That's all I'm saying!" Cam had no idea how they'd gotten to that point. At some point on the beach, he'd decided Jimmy wasn't prudish enough to mind him removing his shirt and it was long gone as they entered the elevator back up to their rooms.