Page 91 of Here for a Good Time
“Eventually,” I say. “Right now, I’m a little busy living out my own love story. And I gotta tell you, it’s a real good one.”
EPILOGUE
18 MONTHS LATER
“Ms. Poe! Mr. Zwe!” Instead of waiting for us to step onto the pier, Antonio takes the initiative of jumping into the boat, consequently rocking the whole thing and causing me and Zwe to fall back down onto the bench seats. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, are you okay? Leila will murder me if I’ve injured our guests of honor.”
As he says it, I hear Leila’s gasp, followed by “Antonio, you’re literally a child!” She crouches down and waves into the boat. “I’m sorry, it’s been like trying to rein in a toddler during the countdown to Christmas.Areyou two okay?”
“We’re good,” I laugh as Antonio simultaneously takes me and Zwe in one arm each and gives us a tight squeeze. “We’re happy to see you all, too.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up at the airport,” Antonio says. He throws a very unsubtle glance at Leila. “I was givenchoresto do.”
“Chores?” Leila scoffs. “You mean yourjob? You’re the groundssupervisor, Antonio. Your job is to supervise the grounds. How are you going to do that, on the day before our grand opening, might I add, if you’re busy stuffing your face with ice cream at the airport? We still haven’t finished decorating the reception walkway, or assembled the tent for the beach, or—”
In one whirl, Antonio’s facing her, and grabs both of her shoulders. “Leils, I know you’ve taught me that it’s not right to tell a woman to calm down so I’m not going to do that, but you need to breathe. We’ve talked about this. You’re going to give yourself an aneurysm. You’ve gotta go smoke a joint or something. It’s still not too late to add a shrooms section to the garden.”
At that, Zwe and I snort. “Never change, kid,” Zwe says, patting him on the back. “And it’s okay that you couldn’t pick us up. Leila’s right, you’re a big-shot supervisor now. Although—” He pulls back to scan Antonio up and down in an exaggerated manner. “Your boss lets his supervisors walk around in shorts and a tank top?”
“Thank you!” Leila throws up her hands while Antonio rolls his eyes, the two of them clearly having had this exact conversation before.
“It gets hot! I’m outsidesupervising the groundsall day!” Antonio argues. “Why are you complaining? I ditched the one I was wearing this morning because you asked. This is one of my good ones!”
“You want me to thank you fornotwearing a tank top that says FREE KE$HA? With a dollar signS?” Leila asks.
Antonio raises a fist. “You’re welcome, thank you for noticing.”
Leila gestures at him. “Ifthisis what our management team looks like, what will the guests think?”
Straining his neck, he makes a show of peering behind meand Zwe, and then around at the boat. “One problem with that argument—there are no guests!”
“The grand opening is tomorrow—”
“So I have until tomorrow to get dressed—”
“Would it kill you to be dressed today—”
“Do you want me to get up early and do my job or—”
Zwe’s piercing finger whistle makes all three of us clamp our palms over our ears. “Okay, children!” he announces. “Antonio, no tank top and shorts tomorrow,” he orders, and although the ends of his mouth droop, Antonio gives a small salute. “And Leila—” He turns to her with that small, amused smile, which is easily one of my top-five Zwe smiles. “The kid is right. You need to smoke a joint.”
Antonio bursts into laughter. “Don’t be a dick!” I say, smacking Zwe on the arm. “Remember you’re talking to the new head of operations now. Forgive her for wanting to make sure tomorrow goes smoothly.”
Leila puts her hands together in a grateful gesture. “Thank you, Poe. See, this is why I hate working with men.” Darting a glance in Antonio’s direction, she adds, “Boys, even.”
We start heading for shore, and by the time we reach the end of the pier, Leila and Antonio have finished taking us through the plans for tomorrow night’s party.
“By the way,” I interrupt. “How’s your new boss?”
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Leila nods behind us.
Dressed in blue jeans and a slim-fit white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, six feet of “tall, dark, handsome” personified is jogging across the sand toward us.
“Poe! You made it!” Tyler Tun yells right as he envelops me in a hug. When we part, I must still have traces of an expression that readsOh my god, Tyler Tun smells amazinglingering on my facebecause Zwe subtly rolls his eyes at me. “How was the journey? I know it’s a bit of a hassle, to say the least, so thank you for coming.”
“Are you kidding? Free first-class tickets to heaven on earth?” I throw back my head and, for the first time since I arrived, breathe in the air. It smells of coconuts and salt water and sand and cozy cold nights and sleepy warm afternoons. “We wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Besides, that’s one of the perks of being self-employed. We gave ourselves the time off.” I know it’s been over a year, but I still feel a giddy thrill at being a “we” in this sense. “This is my boyfriend, Zwe,” I say, gesturing at Zwe.
“Nice to meet you.” Tyler pushes his sunglasses up and extends his hand. “Poe talks about you all the time. You’re doing a PhD in… I want to say math? Oxford, right?”
