Page 66
Story: Instant Karma
“I do not have to see it. My life is perfectly satisfactory as it is.” I thump my palm on the stack of papers. “Also, are we going to get back to this discussion sometime today, or did you just lure me here for the nachos?”
“Speaking of.” Quint points at the plate, of which he’s devoured at least two-thirds. “Are you buying? Because if not, I might need that twenty dollars back.”
I make an annoyed sound, but Quint immediately starts laughing again. “I’m joking. I’ve got this. I’ll get your banana things, too.”
“How generous. Of course, you did eat most of them.”
His eyes twinkle. “Okay. Where did we leave off?”
I try to think back to our conversation. We covered bake sales and social media…
Quint snaps his fingers. “Have you ever been snorkeling?”
I stare at him. Clearly he’s just trying to irritate me at this point.
“Snorkeling?”
“Yeah. You know, with the tube and the goggles—”
“I know what snorkeling is. And no, I haven’t. What does that have to—”
“That’s what I figured. Let’s go. Today. You probably don’t have a swimsuit with you?”
His eyes travel down the top of my dress—not in a creepy way, but still, he does seem to realize the implication and quickly snaps his focus back up to where it belongs.
“No, I don’t have a swimsuit with me, and no, I am not going snorkeling. Did I not just tell you that I’m afraid of sharks?”
He snorts. “You know what the chances are of getting attacked by a shark?”
“Twelve people die every year!” I spout, recalling the statistic from that poster at the center.
“Out of how many billion people on the planet?”
I point toward the beach. “Yeah, but how much do your odds increase when you actually go swimming in water withsharks in it?”
“Prudence, I will protect you from the sharks.”
A bellow of a laugh escapes me. “Thank you. I was, in fact, hoping for a show of chauvinism.”
His eyebrows shoot upward. “I prefer chivalry, but go on.”
“Is this because you were named after a shark hunter?”
“You’re changing the subject. I’m serious. How far away do you live? We can meet back here in… an hour?”
“No!” I’m practically shouting. “Gah. This is like biology all over again.” I pick up one of the folders and shake it at him, barely resisting the temptation to throw it in his face. “We have things to do and all you ever want is to goof off, and before long, I’m doing all the work! Please tell me this whole afternoon hasn’t just been a colossal waste of my time.”
In response, Quint reaches over and snags the folder out of my hand. “For god’s sake, Prudence, justonce,could you not argue with me? Could you just trust that maybe my idea is relevant?”
“Your idea. To go snorkeling.”
“Yes! If you’re going to help the center, you need to understand what the center is all about. That means understanding the water here, the animals. And not just seals and sea lions, but all of it. It all works together. You need to see it firsthand.”
“I have seen it firsthand. At the aquarium!”
“Prudence.” He stretches his free hand across the table and settles it onto my wrist. I jolt with the unexpected touch. His palms are surprisingly warm, and surprisingly rough with calluses. “You might know business, but I know the center. And remember, this time, we’re supposed to be a team.”
I swallow. I wish he would stop throwing that back at me.
“Speaking of.” Quint points at the plate, of which he’s devoured at least two-thirds. “Are you buying? Because if not, I might need that twenty dollars back.”
I make an annoyed sound, but Quint immediately starts laughing again. “I’m joking. I’ve got this. I’ll get your banana things, too.”
“How generous. Of course, you did eat most of them.”
His eyes twinkle. “Okay. Where did we leave off?”
I try to think back to our conversation. We covered bake sales and social media…
Quint snaps his fingers. “Have you ever been snorkeling?”
I stare at him. Clearly he’s just trying to irritate me at this point.
“Snorkeling?”
“Yeah. You know, with the tube and the goggles—”
“I know what snorkeling is. And no, I haven’t. What does that have to—”
“That’s what I figured. Let’s go. Today. You probably don’t have a swimsuit with you?”
His eyes travel down the top of my dress—not in a creepy way, but still, he does seem to realize the implication and quickly snaps his focus back up to where it belongs.
“No, I don’t have a swimsuit with me, and no, I am not going snorkeling. Did I not just tell you that I’m afraid of sharks?”
He snorts. “You know what the chances are of getting attacked by a shark?”
“Twelve people die every year!” I spout, recalling the statistic from that poster at the center.
“Out of how many billion people on the planet?”
I point toward the beach. “Yeah, but how much do your odds increase when you actually go swimming in water withsharks in it?”
“Prudence, I will protect you from the sharks.”
A bellow of a laugh escapes me. “Thank you. I was, in fact, hoping for a show of chauvinism.”
His eyebrows shoot upward. “I prefer chivalry, but go on.”
“Is this because you were named after a shark hunter?”
“You’re changing the subject. I’m serious. How far away do you live? We can meet back here in… an hour?”
“No!” I’m practically shouting. “Gah. This is like biology all over again.” I pick up one of the folders and shake it at him, barely resisting the temptation to throw it in his face. “We have things to do and all you ever want is to goof off, and before long, I’m doing all the work! Please tell me this whole afternoon hasn’t just been a colossal waste of my time.”
In response, Quint reaches over and snags the folder out of my hand. “For god’s sake, Prudence, justonce,could you not argue with me? Could you just trust that maybe my idea is relevant?”
“Your idea. To go snorkeling.”
“Yes! If you’re going to help the center, you need to understand what the center is all about. That means understanding the water here, the animals. And not just seals and sea lions, but all of it. It all works together. You need to see it firsthand.”
“I have seen it firsthand. At the aquarium!”
“Prudence.” He stretches his free hand across the table and settles it onto my wrist. I jolt with the unexpected touch. His palms are surprisingly warm, and surprisingly rough with calluses. “You might know business, but I know the center. And remember, this time, we’re supposed to be a team.”
I swallow. I wish he would stop throwing that back at me.
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