Read Longboard (Desk Surfing Series Book 1) Online
Authors: Davila Eggert
"Then why not just go to North King Street, if he just wants a bang?"
"He's already paying you," said Jessie.
"Speechless."
"I'm not trying to get under your skin," said Jessie, "I'm trying to put it in perspective. This is how guys with money and power think. I know cuz my dad's like that. You know my dad how he likes jokes. You think he didn't work his charm on a waitress or stewardess now and then, make them laugh, flash some money. Some girls never knew they were a fish until they attracted a whale. He's not the worst looking dude and some women flock to money. That's actually why my mom never divorced him. She considered philandering a price tag. She was willing to put up with it cuz it kept pearls on her neck. There's a game these dudes play."
"I know."
"Do you?" asked Jessie.
"You think I'm caught up?"
"Probably too early to tell," said Jessie.
"Why?"
"If after a month you still think he's going to wine and dine you then I'd say you were caught up," said Jessie.
"But..."
"If you just accept that it was a bit of steam he had to let off and go back to dating normal dudes then I'd say you're not," said Jessie.
"I guess you're right."
"You're on the pill though right?" asked Jessie.
"Yes ma'am."
"Good girl," said Jessie.
"So what's up with you?"
"Just work," said Jessie.
"Any dudes in the picture?"
"None for now," said Jessie.
"Why not?"
"Taking a break," said Jessie.
"Ok."
"Well that's one thing about working in a hotel," said Jessie, "Always fresh meat checking in."
"Especially in O'ahu."
"Especially," said Jessie.
"Oh, I wanted to tell you there's this chick at work, Malia, she's our age. So because we did well tag-teaming this presentation today. I invited her to come hang with us at
Ginger Snap
happy hour. Is that cool?"
"Yeah," said Jessie.
"That's why I wanted to talk to you about this now, I couldn't wait till Friday and I figure we'd just laugh and talk it up. It's the end of the week so no heavy stuff, like what's this mean or what's that mean."
"Yeah but you gotta buy me
Flaming Lips
shots and do 'em with me, for always having your back," said Jessie.
"No doubt."
"Cool." said Jessie.
"I'll roll up after work and have the shots waiting on you because you've got the longer drive."
"Thoughtful," said Jessie.
"I am."
"Alright bambina," said Jessie.
"Alright girl."
"Bye."
"Bye."
I stared out the window at the banana tree leaves that waved in the wind. They were always flapping at my window in the morning while I was trying to have breakfast. I was legs up on my sofa staring out the window. It felt forlorn but I was more or less ok, more or less. I just kept thinking about what Jessie said, that it was just a bang. For some reason, I couldn't go down that alley. It wasn't just on the desk. It was on the conference room table. If he just had to blow off some steam why not just fire off once? What was the deal with the red boob stains? Why was he so fixated on them? Was it just boobs? Was it mine? It didn't feel like there was an easy explanation hanging in the air, so I stopped looking for one but I fundamentally disagreed with Jessie. There was something about the way Longboard avoided me that made me think there was something he himself wasn't willing to admit. I just kept staring out the window as the sun hit one of the banana leaves so hard, it turned white. I had to look away it was so bright. But the banana leaves kept brushing at my window. It gave me the feeling they agreed with Jessie, like they were saying
listen to her
. I was happy to let Jessie think that I was in agreement. Jessie was the type to mother the world. She would keep on trying to shield me from Longboard, like I was her little duckling. I was determined to let it play out. I wanted a set up where Longboard would have the opportunity to hit it again. That was the true test of hit-it-and-quit-it--
could you really quit it?
It didn't take long for my opportunity to come. On Thursday, Longboard was so excited about how well the presentation went that he made Friday night reservations for the office at
Osmi
.
Osmi
was this new
It
club on Kapiolani. Basically, it's the kind of place where you can sign a bill that's five digits long, just to sit at a table with the same bottle labels you can find at
Costco
. Longboard wanted to throw an evening for the office, which was gestural of him. He had a reputation of being pretty tight with money. He had the nickname
Kiewei McDuck
. I think it was started by Brianna, our old office manager. She had to fight with him a lot over accounts payable. It seemed to me that if the claim was legit, you had to pay up but Longboard didn't always see it that way, so the story goes. I already had my date with Jessie and Malia on Friday but that was for happy hour, five-to-seven. Clubs like
Osmi
didn't open till eleven. I could pre-game with the girls before going through
Osmi
. And that was it, the plan.
Friday came and I didn't talk to Jessie before-hand. I sent her a text that we were game for happy hour and that the office was having a thing at
Osmi
. I invited Jessie to the office party and she texted back one word,
maybe.
I invited out of friendship. Nightclubs weren't Jessie. But I could have used my wing-woman. Because it was the first time I'd be seeing Longboard in a social setting, since we made the office a social setting. Nothing so big happened on Friday. Everyone was checked out. It was like any other office, which made it feel somewhat back to normal. It felt like Friday. Tuesday felt like another world. It wasn't what I wanted but I started thinking maybe Jessie was right. It was just a bang. Maybe I just got something I needed. And maybe Longboard needed it too. I was good for at least six weeks. And without a guy in tow, I just had to do everything in strides.
5 o'clock came and I was gone.
Ginger Snap
wasn't far from the office, maybe a little over a mile downtown on Nuuanu Ave. Parking was always the issue but otherwise I liked going to
Ginger Snap
. It was left of center. A lot of the busy-bee traffic that went on downtown was a block or two over on Fort Street Mall and Bishop. Every hotspot part of every central district had those few opportunistic businesses that were just on the outskirts--out of the action. That was
Ginger Snap
. Despite the name avenue, Nuuanu Avenue was a one-way street, so I had to round the block to see if I could get one of the few street-side parking places. I couldn't. But I just had a good feeling being back at that place. It was my hangout. I couldn't tell you how much time between then and my last visit but it was a while. I liked that part of Nuuanu. If you could ignore the skyscrapers in the background it almost felt like you were in a settlement town, like the setting of an old western. The sidewalks were skinny. And the buildings were brick. Everything was two stories. And you had storefront windows, the kind that actually let you steal a view at what was going on inside. It wasn't that big department store culture where mannequins in the window were made to look 'better' than you. It had that neon open sign hanging close enough that you could see it through a dark tinted window. I drove by to park in the paid lot that was at the end of Nuuanu, by the water. I had to walk back up the street with my sunglasses because the late afternoon sun liked to be at eye-level. As I walked up to the door, it was my first time to see the tiny word 'The' next to the big
Ginger Snap
. The bar was officially called
The Ginger Snap
. I posted a mental note on my corkboard.
The lounge looked narrow. But no one went there to sit on the first floor. Upstairs was the everything. Downstairs had the bar though. It was quaint, with seven stools. They had a limited selection of sushi and sashimi. And they had teas. And you could eat at the bar and watch the chefs make your meal. The specials were written on a blackboard, hung high on the redbrick wall behind the oval-shaped cooking area. The interesting thing was that the bar was upstairs. You could order tea from downstairs but if you wanted to get tight or loose, you had to go fish. There was no wait staff to bring you a drink. You had to go to the bar, order it and then take it to your seat. But downstairs had drink menus. The windows were dark tint downstairs and upstairs had no windows, which let them create their own ambiance. I liked it upstairs because it didn't pander to tourists. That means it wasn't trying to celebrate Hawaii. It was its own animal.
There was a large reproduced painting of Thomas MacDonough on the far wall. He was an American Naval Officer famous for his victory at the Battle of Lake Champlain, during the war of 1812. I only knew that because one night I was drunk enough to ask, but sober enough to remember. There were cowboy relics: stirrups; spurs; cowboy boots and a necklace made out of a snake's rattles hanging on the wall. There were some Hawaiian things though. A wood-finish Hawaiian longboard surfboard was mounted on the east wall and one on the west wall. The music was often Dizzy Gillespie, Otis Redding or Diana Ross. Downstairs was very Asian. Upstairs was very American. There were no chairs, only seven booths. The booths were all U-shaped with round tables in the middle. And they all had leather backing. But it wasn't that red diner-pop leather. It was that rustic maroon, still very reminiscent of the Old West. I grabbed the far booth on the right side. There were still five booths open. Two were taken, one by a couple the other by a triplet. So I sat by myself and played with my smart phone. I already knew what I wanted to order, but I wanted to wait for the girls. I wouldn't call myself an expert on anything. But I knew that for conversation to be good, you had to be at about the same level of intoxication as your counterparts. Just imagine showing up to a party two hours late stone-sober. You almost wouldn't recognize how much fun people were having because you were in a different state of mind. It was the same when you were one drink in and everyone else just fed the parking meter. So I waited.
Jessie showed first. She had on her suit skirt, minus the name tag. I figured she would beat Malia because Malia said she was coming but had to do something before she came. It was the reason she didn't want to ride together, even though she didn't know exactly where the place was.
"Should we kick off or round off?" asked Jessie, meaning should we get started or wait to share the first round with Malia.
"I'll text her...No answer."
"Let's get started," said Jessie.
"Cool, need a minute?"
"Nope," said Jessie. I handed her my credit card.
"I'll have an
Even Split
." It was equal parts banana and chocolate liqueur with some vanilla extract, made to taste like a banana split.
"Game on," said Jessie, as she got up to go to the bar. Jessie and I sat for about forty minutes before Malia showed up, which was as odd as it was rude--no call or text. Malia and I had the same drive and it was against traffic. It didn't make sense that she was so late. But at least she showed.
"Hey, sorry I'm late," said Malia, "Traffic got stupid and then I couldn't find the place and when I did, I had to find parking.
"There's a lot down the street."
"I saw that but it was full," said Malia, "So I had to go along the water till I found a row of metered spots. I got an hour. I figured because we'll have to leave and go home to get club attire."
"True that. Malia, this is my long-serving partner in crime, Jessica Jin."
"Nice to meet you," said Malia.
"Likewise," said Jessie.
"What are you guys having?" asked Malia.
"
Harvey Wallbanger
," said Jessie.
"Mine's called an
Even Split
."
"I'll go for a
Betty Cosmo
," said Malia.