Chapter 14 #2
I did not nail that interaction.
When Sofía’s occupied, Molly turns in her seat with a shit-eating smile. I shake my head, and she chuckles to herself, spinning forward.
“Got the footage, Doug?” I ask after the pilot does a handful of turns around the reef.
He gives me a thumbs-up, and the pilot informs us we’re heading back to land. Sofía takes dozens of photos and videos, while I glare at the bag between us. It’s haunting me, knowing what’s in the tiny seashell bag. Why did she bring them? Does she plan on using them?
These are not appropriate questions to ponder and likely against Sofía’s mental list of things that cross professional boundaries. Seems like most things I do probably cross those imaginary lines, whether or not I intend to.
“What’s the plan for the rest of the day?” I ask once the helicopter returns to the marina.
“Well, the plan was to take a half-day tour on a catamaran,” Sofía says, looking at her notebook. “We have time to return to the hotel and change.”
Molly and Doug exchange glances. Oh, I know that look. I’ve seen it dozens of times when I try to third wheel with them. They’re about to ditch us, and I think they’re gonna steal our boat.
Instead of saying anything, I bite my tongue, wanting to witness how Sofía handles the coup.
“So, about that…” Doug says. “We were thinking you guys could…skip it.”
“Huh?”
Now it’s Molly’s turn. They have this dance down. “Doug and I were hoping we could have some romantic time alone.” Her arm snakes around Doug’s waist, and she pulls him tight. “We’ve been working nonstop.”
I have to say, they’re doing a splendid job.
Doug drops the bait, and then Molly swoops in to lay on the guilt-tripping real thick.
I’m not that much of a fool. I know what they’re doing, but I go along with it because it doesn’t harm anyone, and they think they’ve tricked me and spend the rest of the night snickering about it.
They love each other, and I’m happy for them.
“You have not lifted a finger since we left Los Angeles,” Sofía counters, peering at her beneath her sunglasses. “At least attempt a better excuse.”
Molly gawks. “Works on him every time.”
I shake my head. “No it doesn’t. I’m nicer than she is and can realize when I’m a third wheel.”
“I want to spend some time with my special lady.”
Doug kisses her deeply, and Sofía rolls her eyes, giving me a playful look. “Oh, fine. Go and have fun. But don’t be late to the bus. We’re leaving for Townsville tomorrow.”
“Got it, boss.” Doug salutes her, and then they’re gone, giggling to themselves as they disappear into the hotel.
It’s Sofía and me, alone, and my pulse skyrockets.
“Do they not like me?” she asks.
“Oh, no. They like you, but they like each other more. Sometimes I third wheel with them, but it’s always awkward, like the babysitter canceled, so they’re forced to include me. It’s kinda nice to have you around.”
“Did you have any plans?”
“No? Unless there’s something else on the shared calendar.”
A peculiar expression shines in her irises, and she shuffles on her feet. “I was thinking, maybe, that we could do a shenanigan.”
My heart stammers. “You want to do a shenanigan with me?”
“Yes?”
She doesn’t sound confident, but I’m not questioning it.
“Meet me in the lobby in an hour.”
This is going to be the tamest shenanigan of my life, but we’re going to have so much fun.
***
Sofía looks like she’s going to shit a brick, frantically scanning the hotel lobby.
Does she think we’re about to rob a bank or something?
Every movement is twitchy, and her eyes dart around the room like she’s surveying all entrances and exits.
She picks up her phone, puts it down. Picks it back up. Down again.
Oh, she’s going to blow a fuse.
I reach her table, coming from her left side, slightly out of sight. “Hiya.”
A loud yelp escapes her as she leaps from her seat, the color draining from her face. I’m greeted with a sharp look, and the blood rushes to my groin.
Goddamn, she is pretty.
“How are you so quiet?”
“Why are you on edge?” I counter.
“I’ve never shenaniganed before.” She frowns when I snort.
“Did you make it a verb?”
This is going to be so much fun, especially when she learns that not every shenanigan is outrageous. Sometimes it’s about taking something mundane and adding a bit of life. I figured we could start out small, a decision I’m glad I made, considering her jumpy nature.
No way she would take trespassing well if she’s ready to flee the hotel lobby.
“So, what are we getting into? Skydiving? Tattoos? Crocodile wrangling?”
The squeak in her voice increases with every outlandish suggestion. What on earth does she think I do on a regular basis? Half the time I’m in LA, I don’t even leave my house. Part of me loves that she thinks I’m this adventurous rake of a man rather than my less-than-impressive reality.
I hoist the tote bag and blanket in my hands for her to see. “Croc wrangling is a level two shenanigan. I thought we would start at level one.”
“We’re kidnapping someone?”
That stuns me into silence. “W-what? How did you get there?”
She pauses, raising her chin. “Tote bag to cover the head. Blanket to wrap the body.”
“Jesus, okay. Well, no. I have no plans for kidnap, murder, or any other criminal activities.”
Sofía lets out a deep exhale. “Thank goodness. I think I could pull it off, though, if I had to.”
Shaking my head, I step out into the warm evening air. Rapid footsteps slap against the pavement as she follows with that damn bag and its seashell pouch hanging off her shoulder, haunting me with every passing second.
I try not to glare at it like it has personally wronged me.
“I don’t doubt it for a second,” I finally say, ripping my gaze away from her shoulder. “But even if you were caught, how would you survive without your red-light mask?”
“Exactly,” she exclaims. “My skincare routine would be a night—you’re teasing me.”
“Me? Never.” I place my palm over my heart. “Your skincare is serious business.”
She shoves my arm, and I fake a stumble. Her laughter is soft, but the flush of her cheeks is not from the sun. We walk in silence down the sidewalk of the small beach town, tourists and backpackers milling around us.
I stop in front of Woolworths.
“Here we are.”
“This is a grocery store.”
“Yep.”
“This is the shenanigan? Going to the store? I do this all the time.”
“Ah. That’s where you’re wrong.” I click my tongue.
She glares at me, and it sends a thrill down my spine.
“This isn’t any shopping trip. You have to create the perfect three-course meal.
An appetizer, entrée, and dessert. We each have ten minutes to shop before meeting at the checkout. The person with the best dinner wins.”
Excitement shines in her bright eyes. “And the loser?”
“They have to share their deepest, darkest secret.”
Her hand darts out and shakes mine. “Deal.”
I start a timer, and she sprints away, not pausing while she calls out over her shoulder, “I hope you enjoy the taste of losing!”
Competitive Sofía might be my favorite version.
While she runs through the store—I spot her zipping around with a box of pizza Shapes—I find the hot-food counter and order a massive container of mac and cheese. I move on to the dessert section and grab a chocolate mud cake. For an appetizer, I make a wild choice and get honey soy chicken chips.
I think she’d test out her tote bag and blanket method of body disposal on me if I bought Vegemite.
The timer ends, and I head to the checkout. Sofía stands there waiting, bouncing on her toes, a bag in her hand. “I’ve crafted the perfect meal.”
Doing my best to block my haul with my body, I scan my items and pay. “You sound confident.”
“Oh, I am,” she says, strolling out of the store and into the parking lot. “Where to next?”
“Now we eat.” I lift the blanket. “I figured we could head to the beach and enjoy the cool breeze.”
She stops walking. “What do you mean now? Don’t I have time to cook?”
“With what kitchen?”
“I…” Pink colors her cheeks, and she looks down at her bag, then to me. “Can I go back inside?”
“Nope. Can’t break the rules. I’m sure whatever you got is fine.”
I don’t give her an opportunity to argue—she would probably win, and this whole thing would fall apart—and walk to the beach.
She jogs to catch up, her bags swinging in each hand.
When we reach the lagoon area, we find a spot away from the water, and I lay out the blanket, setting down my bag and then sitting at one corner.
She slowly does the same.
“All right, what did you get?”
“You go first,” she insists, pulling her legs under her.
Shrugging, I pull out the mac and cheese, potato chips, and cake, plus two forks.
“Ta-da!” I wave my hands around. “Try to top that.”
I raise a brow, and Sofía pulls out a box of pizza Shapes, a box of Golden Gaytime ice creams, and one massive frozen pepperoni pizza.
“If you let the pizza sit out, the sun might cook it. If the birds don’t take it first.”
The laugh I valiantly fight breaks free, and I fall into a fit, my sides cramping from the intensity. Her confidence in her win was so genuine.
“I think it’s safe to say I won,” I declare, which is greeted with a huff from Sofía. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you hold on to that secret for now.”
“How kind of you,” she deadpans between bites.
I shrug. “I am nothing if not generous.”
We eat the food in silence, and once it’s gone, Sofía leans back and stares out at the ocean, the waves lapping against the shore.
“You are generous,” she says finally. “It’s one of your greatest qualities.”
Her words mean more to me than I think she’ll ever know.