I hadn’t gotten to the other end yet, so I feel compelled to look. And there it is, a maniacal smile on its face. Whoever painted that monkey’s face did, in fact, manage to project a mental image of the thing jumping up and down, like a scene from a video game.
It was the damndest thing. And then I stared at it too long before finally breaking myself out of its manic trance. “You’re right. That’s a pretty great looking coconut monkey. What would you do with it?” I smile casually but try not to make it flirty. After all, this isn’t about me or how his sea-green eyes perfectly accent his wavy brown hair. This is about coconut monkeys.
“Me, personally?” He looks surprised by the question. “I don’t want to do anything with any of them. They look like they’re laughing at me. But since you looked so interested, I decided to tell you which one I liked best. In case it helps.”
Now there is an unmistakable hint of a smile playing on his lips that catches my eye and causes my gaze to linger on the rest of his face. As I already noticed, he has striking, crystal clear, sea-green eyes.
Normally that would be in the plus column, but again, this guy is some kind of beach-shoe-wearing, monkey coconut disliking tourist and is therefore utterly unacceptable.
So, despite his strong square jaw with adorable stubble and perfect brown hair, it’s not going to happen. To make matters worse, he’s wearing a suit jacket that looks expensive and tailored. I stare for a moment and swear there are muscles knotting underneath that jacket, but it’s probably my imagination. He’s not my type at all. Can’t stand the sight of him.
“Can I have another Mai-Tai, Abigail?” I ask, changing the subject of my internal monologue after realizing I’m staring at him.
Abigail gives me the universal girl expression that translates roughly to: Are you crazy? What are you waiting for? Go ahead and flirt with the handsome guy sitting next to you.
I return her gaze with the universal girl code look that means please get me a drink and stop meddling. Because I’m already warring with my traitor body and now, I feel like the coconut monkeys are laughing at me too. Damn him for pointing it out. Ruiner.
I just want to have another drink and pretend that I didn’t get caught trying to figure out which coconut monkey I would ask out. And as much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. The green monkey on the end is probably the best.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he says to me. It looks like he’s holding in a chuckle. “Please, let me pay for the Mai Tai. In fact, I’ll take one too.”
“I appreciate it, but I don’t date tourists, remember?”
“Oh, I heard you,” he says, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “And I get it. But what if I’m not hitting on you? What if I just want to hang out next to you. And I’ll buy. Can you live with a few rounds of drinks while sitting next to a tourist?”
Abigail stifles a laugh.
Since everything is clear now, maybe it’s okay to have a few drinks. “Okay, you win, you can pay for the Mai Tais.”
He turns to me. “Oh yeah, I should introduce myself-”
“Nope,” I cut him off. “That’s the deal. You want to hang out and drink? No names.”
He lets out a breath and looks relieved. “Deal.”
Abigail slides the drinks forward and then leaves to wipe down a few tables on the other end of the bar. Tables that I know for a fact are already spotless.
“So tell me,” he says, swirling his drink around, “if you don’t date tourists, then why did you ask that guy out earlier.”
I think about it, frown, and then laugh out loud. “What are you, stalking me or something?”
He shakes his head and dips his hand into one of the several jars of jellybeans placed on top of the bar. “No stalking here. I couldn’t help but notice you after the table dance. Everybody noticed you, there was fire and everything. And for the record, you did bump into me. Not the other way around.”
“Fair enough. I got that guy’s number to win, well, let’s call it a bet. It’s a long story.” It’s a short story, but I don’t feel like telling him. “It’s an inside joke. Tell me more about why you’re drinking alone on a fine night like this.” I decide it’s more fun to hear about other people’s misery than to talk about my own.
“Oh, I’m suffering from run of the mill corporate politics. You know, the usual. Backstabbing, name-calling, highway robbery, assorted other felonies.” He puts a finger to his full lips and leans forward conspiratorially, a twinkle in his eyes. “Shhh. It’s all a big secret. And most importantly, almost none of it can be proven in court.”
“No kidding?” I ask, taking a sip of my drink. “Now you’re just messing with me.”
“I wish.”
“Sounds intense,” I say, deciding to call his bluff, “give me an example.”
The smile returns, and since I am staring right at him, I notice an adorable dimple on his right cheek. So not fair.
“Ever get that feeling?” he asks. “Like a storm is coming and there’s not a damn thing you can do to avoid it?”
“I wish,” I answer with a chuckle of my own. “My storms all seem to come out of nowhere. Honestly, it would be nice every once in a while to get a heads up.”
The dimple is back. “That sounds fair. What’s your story, coconut?”
I give him a horrified look and then we both break into raucous laughter.
“What?” he asks. “You said no names. And you’re apparently into coconut monkeys.”
“Okay, but if I get a stupid nickname, then so do you,” I warn him. But every nickname that comes to mind when
