by Elyse Riggs
She looks up at me like I'm a mental patient. "What are you talking about, Jake? We're inside." She waves the doubloon around like she doesn't have a care in the world.
Which is a really bad idea when you're grabbing things off of a table in a house owned by a notoriously terribly behaved monkey.
Right on cue, Shark runs by, skreeching and scaring the crap out of Emma. He snatches the coin right out of her hand with his dirty little paw and puts it in his mouth, biting own and drooling on the carpet.
"Ew," Emma says, "um, for the record I don't want that back." She steps closer to me. "Is it safe for me to take a different doubloon?"
"I'd give it a while" I tell her. "By the way, I tried to warn you about Shark. He's the monkey who owns the place."
"What?" She asks, scrunching up her nose, "the monkey's name is Shark? And what do you mean by he owns the place?"
I do a double take at Emma. It’s my turn to look at her like she’s the crazy one. Is it possible I picked the one girl in town who knows even less about current events in St. Tropic than me? "I'm sorry, I assumed you knew about all this. You live here. Are you new in town or something?"
"Yes, I just got here from California. Why would I know about this little town and its horrible monkey? Frankly, you're a famous football player. I'm surprised you know any of these things either."
"I grew up here." I spit the words out and then regret it. The last thing I want to do is talk about the past. Sure, I’m irritated that she’s insulting the place I grew up, but I also don’t want to dwell on it.
I need a distraction, and right on cue the music starts up and couples begin flocking to the large dance floor in the center of the main room. "What do you say we forget about the monkey. Want to dance?"
She smiles and nods. Emma and I are only a few steps into the dance when I hear new names announced. My ears perk up.
It's Angie. And some guy named Tristan. Ugh, I hate him already. And not just because of the jealousy that now surges through me. Every muscle in my body tenses as my eyes scan the entrance, waiting to see them both.
I find her, wearing an absolutely stunning blue dress. The four-inch heels she's wearing make her taller than most men here.
Her blond hair is part down and part up with curls on the side and I swear all sound and movement in the room stops to watch her enter the ballroom. Or maybe it’s just me.
Emma lightly touches my arm, encouraging me to turn my attention back to her.
But I can't. Not yet. I'm frozen in place. After a few steps, Angie's eyes scan the crowd and she finds me. Those seconds of connection from across the room sizzle. I can't be the only one who feels that.
Emma clears her throat.
Angie breaks eye contact. Then the moment is gone.
Emma and I continue our dance.
Chapter 18
Angie
Tristan looks perfect. His short wavy hair and smoldering good looks are perfect for tonight. He greets me with a warm smile and a puppy dog look that takes me by surprise.
Hopefully I'm reading too much into it because tonight is just about appearances. And he’s nailing it, wearing a pirate vest underneath his tux. He actually looks quite festive.
And he picks me up in his respectable Audi convertible, so we don't have to take my beat-up BMW.
When we pull up to the valet, there is a gorgeous sunset on the horizon and a nice, cool breeze in the air.
As much as I hate to admit it, it's a wonderful night for a ball and I'm actually starting to get excited. About the ball, and about throwing the fact that I have a date back in Jake's smug face.
It doesn't take long. The announcer is still calling out my name when I enter the crowded mansion. I scan the faces and find Jake.
He's with a gorgeous knockout of course. A part of me is relieved he didn't bring Mia.
The next thing I do is scan the room for signs of Shark. I'm wearing one of my favorite bracelets. It has a blue opal stone and a diamond set in silver. I almost never wear it out because I love it so much. And the last thing I need is to have it pinched by a jerk kleptomaniac monkey.
There's no sign of the furry menace, so I turn to Tristan. "Shall we?"
He's frowning at me.
"What?"
"What was that?" He asks. "With that giant, super-sexy blond-haired guy?"
I give him the universal what-the-hell-is-it-to-you stare that lets him know that whatever comes out of his mouth next is going to have a profound impact on how the night goes. And maybe his general health as well.
He recognizes the danger signal and raises his hands in mock surrender. He’s worried enough that his eyes bug out a little. "Girl, I get it. You're the one paying, here. It's just that I'm really good at reading people. And if you're here to make that guy jealous I've got you covered." He leans down to whisper. "Making ex-boyfriends jealous is sort of a specialty of mine."
"He's not an ex." I spit out.
He raises an eyebrow at me and then breaks into a wide grin. "You can call it whatever you want, but I know that look."
Okay, so I might have underestimated Tristan. I smile up at him, grateful to have that out of the way. At least now the two of us are on the same team.
And since the night is young, maybe this ball will be more fun than I thought. "Oh yeah, Tristan. One thing, I need you to keep an eye out for Shark. This bracelet is really shiny and it’s really important to me."
"Got it." He holds out his arm for me with a wink and a nod. "Shall we hit the dance floor, then?"
"We shall." I look Tristan up and down again, seeing him differently than when he first picked me up tonight. Sure, he's devastatingly handsome, which was a prerequisite. I just didn't think he'd be so extra. I like it.
The two of us whirl around the dance floor. Every now and then I catch a glimpse of the concerned expression on Jake’s face.
He knows me almost as well as Fi and Kaylee. And I know that he knows that the smile I wear is real and not fake, he just doesn't know why. And it looks like it's satisfactorily driving him crazy. Good.
The music slows down and Tristan instinctively leans in to whisper in my ear again. "I think it's working." He wraps his arms around my waist.
It's been a long time since a guy has done that. And I appreciate what Tristan is doing for me here tonight. But as handsome as he is, all I can think about is Jake.
"So what is it you want to get out of tonight?" he asks as we sway from side to side.
Apart from the general idea of making Jake jealous, I haven't thought it out that far. Since he's the self-proclaimed expert and all, I decide to ask him. "What do you mean?"
"You want a scene? Where I’m rude and you dump me, and he swoops in? Or should I make him jealous enough to ditch his date and meet you in one of the back bedrooms?" He lifts one eyebrow and then the other and waggles them at me hilariously.
He's adorable and he knows it. I don't really want anybody to get dumped. What do I really want out of tonight? It's a good question. And I don’t have an answer because I’m having trouble focusing. Only Jake could look that damn sexy in an eye patch.
Chapter 19
Jake
I watch the two of them twirl around the dance floor. Angie looks happy. A part of me is happy for her, and another part of me wants to go full cave man on that guy. Challenge him to some kind of a duel. I know Angie though. And that wouldn't go over well at all.
So I dance. And I fume. And through all of the noise and laughter and chatter in the packed ballroom, I'm sure I can hear her voice. But what do I do?
When I finally look down at Emma, she's frowning again. I'd ask her what was wrong, but I know it probably has something to do with the gymnastics I've been doing to try to spy on Angie and Tristan. Ugh, what kind of pretentious name is Tristan anyway?
"Stop it," Emma says, stomping her foot and pouting.
"Stop what?" I ask as I lead her through the crowd to the back of the line for the bar. The plastic cups at the
bar have little pirate faces with hats and eye patches on them. I really have missed this festival.
"Should we get a drink?" I offer before she can answer my previous question.
"Absolutely, yes. I need a drink."
Once we tuck into the back of the line, Emma puts a hand on my chest and then lets it slide down to my belt. "When I say stop it, I mean stop ogling that bimbo blond over there. Trust me, baby. Whatever you want from her, I'm probably better at it anyway."
I feel my teeth grind and my jaw tighten at Emma's words. She can't talk about Angie that way.
"Look," she says, reading my body language and removing her hand from my body. "Are you here to have fun or spy on her?"
"You don't understand," I start before realizing that there really isn't anything else to say. Fortunately, that is the moment when it's my turn at the bar. "Whiskey sour. And for you, Emma?"
"Margarita," she chimes in.
"And a margarita," I add. The bartender is wearing a skull and crossbones tee and an oversized gold doubloon necklace.
Just as he's handing me the drinks, I hear a series of shrieks throughout the crowd. I know just what causes that level of screaming. It's Shark. What the hell is that demon monkey up to now?
"No!"
Oh no. That’s Angie’s voice I hear above the rest of the crowd. I don't know what's going on, but I'm sure going to find out.
Chapter 20
Angie
I'll admit that it only happened because I took my mind off of the bracelet and the monkey and started paying way too much attention to Jake and his date.
I hear a commotion in the crowd. And the weird thing is, the commotion, whatever it is, seems to be heading straight at me like a shark in the water about to attack.
I hear the crowd and feel the anxiety even before I feel the tug on my right forearm. I looked down just in time to see the jagged white teeth looking up at me in a grotesque and greedy smile.
And then it’s gone. The monkey is gone. I look down to confirm what I already know. So is my bracelet.
"No!" I scream. That bracelet was a gift, handed down to me from my great-great grandmother to my favorite Aunt Patty and then to me, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let that little fleabag take it.
Tristan gives me a confused look.
"That monkey just stole my bracelet. Don't just stand there, get him!"
Tristan turns toward the screams and then starts to run. He's a pretty big guy, though, and it's hard for him to get through.
He dutifully fights his way politely through the crowd, but I can see that he's never going to get there in time to stop that stupid monkey from getting away.
Instead of sprinting forward myself, I take a moment to watch and listen. My only chance is to get to where that little shit is going, not where it's been.
Seems like Shark is arcing off toward the left. He’s making his way through the crowd, across the ballroom, and in the general direction of the stairs.
Of course, he's making a run for the stairs. He has a bedroom up there and it's probably filled with all the loot he's stolen over the years. If I don't beat him to those stairs, there's no telling if I’ll ever see my bracelet again.
"Excuse me," I scream. It's not really a polite excuse me, it's more of a look-out people, ready or not here I come.
That's all the warning I give before I dart through toward the stairs, pushing people aside as I go. And it's not easy to get the kind of leverage that I need in these heels. If I had more time, I'd chuck them and run that little monster down barefoot.
I've got a chance. I get to the bottom of the spiral staircase at the exact same time as Shark. When he looks up at me, his little face is surprised to see me standing in his way.
"That's right, you little thief, I've got you now."
Shark darts left. I launch myself to the left. Shark zags right. I crash into the stairs, and the little furball gets past me. I make one last lunge with my arm and my black polished fingernails brush brown fur and his little collar and then he disappears up the stairs.
"This isn't over, you little thieving monkey!" I shriek, picking myself up from the stairs and preparing to charge ahead.
All of a sudden, Malachai's goons show up standing in my way. "I'm afraid the upstairs area of the mansion is off limits to party guests," the short one says. I assume he's in charge and I fix him with my harshest stare.
Wait, I'm here with a hulking man. Where the hell is Tristan, anyway? If nothing else, I need him to be a distraction so I can get around these assholes. "Tristan?" I call, looking around.
"Coming," he calls, still attempting to push his way through the crowd. Some twenty-something socialites refuse to move out of his way though, and then he steps on a coach purse, turns his ankle, and goes down.
Of course. I'll have to do this the hard way. "Look here, that little thief stole my bracelet and I'm getting it back."
"I'm alright," Tristan adds.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but it's off limits." The short, bald man in the cheap suit sniffs at me heartlessly. He doesn’t care at all. I'm starting to dislike him very much.
"It's irreplaceable. I'll call the cops."
"Call them," he says smugly. Too smugly. I feel anger rise inside of me and I can feel the eyes of the crowd on me. I'm sure the goon can too.
"This is your life? Bouncer to a monkey thief? He stole something of mine and I'm going to get it back."
That furry little asshole ran straight through the crowd and right at my bracelet. How did he even know? I mean, everybody here is wearing jewelry, and most of it is probably way more expensive than what I’m wearing.
Not more sparkly though. Shit, I should have known this was a bad idea. Tonight, Tristan, the bracelet, everything.
"Not tonight, miss," he says, "if you like, you can file a report on your way out of the event."
"Why would I file a report when he stole it just now? In front of hundreds of witnesses? Just give it back. Or else technically I'm quite sure that makes you, all of you," I point at the goons all in turn, "accessories."
"Accessories?" He lifts a bushy black eyebrow to mock me.
"Yes, accessories. To theft."
"I didn't see anything," bald goon says. "There are claim forms at the check-in desk."
That does it. I try counting to ten in my head to beat back the rage, I really do. Then I remember the swim move that Jake taught me. It's a football technique used to get somebody out of your way just far enough and long enough to get past them.
As I think it through in my head, I'm pretty sure that it won't even count as assault if this guy decides to be an asshole about it, which I'm sure he will. Luckily, I have lots of witnesses to call on as well.
Plus he deserves it for purposely standing between me and my stolen bracelet. He sees me square up to him and stiffens. Luckily, he's the only one who’s currently in front of me on the stairs, the rest of the goons are fanned out at the bottom, leaving just me and bald guy a few steps up.
Okay, Angie, remember what he taught you? Outside hand, slap his hand out of my way and then use my inside hand to complete the motion. I take a deep breath and then execute, darting up the stairs as I go.
Muscle memory kicks in and I pull off the move flawlessly. It helps that he's completely unprepared. The surprised and horrified look on his face as I sprint up the stairs leaving him behind is absolutely priceless.
I hear the gasps of the crowd as I school the security guard, but that's not my concern right now. Once I get to the top of the stairs it's not hard to find the monkey's room. The door is open. Also, even if it were closed I'd have been able to find it by the smell.
Ugh. I put a hand over my nose as I enter the creature's lair. It smells like elephant butt in here. I spot Shark in the corner, shrieking at me as if he were the victim and not the hairy little criminal.
"There you are you little shit. Didn't think I'd come after you, huh? You don't deserve this mansion or your hired goons, you twit."
The place is a mess with ropes everywhere and piles of loot. Some of it definitely stolen from past balls, strewn all over the hardwood floor several feet deep in places. I get an idea and pull out my phone, taking pictures of as much of the room as I can before the goons catch up with me.
That done, I put my phone back away and wade into the piles of jewelry, doubloons, cufflinks, and so on and so forth. Something shiny catches my eye. Ew. Is that an earring with blood still on it? Gross.
When I get to the stunned monkey, he still has my bracelet in his hand. I try to speak in a soothing tone. It's not easy considering I'm on the clock here. "C'mon, Shark. Give that back, okay?"
I hold out my hand. Shark seems calm, almost cute right now with his little hat and a concerned look on his little monkey face.
He chitters and stares up at me and I stretch my hand out closer to him, but not too close. I hear he's a biter and decide that tonight is probably not a great night to test that theory. "Hand it over, little buddy, and I'll leave you alone."
To my utter astonishment, Shark extends his little paw toward me, the one that has my bracelet in it. I can see the blue opal glimmering in the light.
"Yes," I say, able to pull off an even more soothing tone now that the stupid monkey is cooperating. "Just a little more."
Almost there. The heavy wooden door behind me slams open, causing me to jump. It causes Shark to jump too, and he withdraws his little paw and retreats into the corner.
I whirl. "You stupid assholes, he was about to give it back."
"The police have been called, ma'am. You were informed that you were illegally trespassing. Now, come with us."
"Not a chance. You only called the cops because I embarrassed you down there. I'm getting my bracelet back. And then when the cops get here, I'm going to tell them how much stolen contraband is up here."
The security guards give each other worried looks behind the bald guy's back.
I smile, sensing victory.
