Page 34 of The Suite Life
Again?
‘I’m just, er…’
‘Just for a minute,’ he tells me casually.
‘Back in a sec,’ I assure… the man whose name I’ve just realised I don’t know.
‘Okay, what’s up?’ I say through a laugh as Donnie pulls me to one side. Again.
‘Nothing, I’m just saving you from that guy,’ Donnie replies.
‘And what makes you think I need saving?’ I ask through a frown.
I’m a strong, independent woman. I don’t need a man to save me (I do need one for a date, though, haha, what a ridiculous person I am).
‘Oh, right,’ Donnie says sheepishly. ‘Sorry, I jumped to… well, the best conclusion: that he was trying to shag you, but that you didn’t know he was married.’
‘Wow, you’re jumping to all kinds of conclusions there,’ I say, a bit ticked off.
‘Perhaps you’re right. Maybe a “bit of fun” means something else in America,’ Donnie says with a shrug – I can tell he doesn’t think he’s mistaken, though. ‘Sorry, I’ll mind my own business. I’ll grab a drink and get out of your way.’
Who is this guy and why he is sticking his nose in my business?
I head back to… the man whose name I still don’t know.
‘Sorry about that,’ I tell him.
‘That’s okay,’ he replies. ‘I’ve just checked my schedule and I’ve only got an hour. Plenty of time, if you fancy coming up to my room but we’d better get a move on.’
As he looks at his watch, I notice the sunlight catch on his wedding ring. His fucking wedding ring.
‘You know what, sorry, I have a boyfriend,’ I say.
‘I have a wife,’ he replies with a shrug.
‘My boyfriend is here,’ I counter.
‘So is my wife,’ he tells me, oh-so casually. ‘She’s in the spa. Hence me only having an hour.’
‘You’re not exactly twisting my arm, buddy,’ I say, trying to laugh my way out of an awkward situation.
‘Baby, I’ll twist your arms, your legs – you won’t even remember your own name,’ he tells me. ‘But, just, only for the next hour. Well, fifty-five minutes now.’
‘My boyfriend is, like, right here,’ I say, putting extra emphasis on the words. ‘He’s the guy who just came to talk to me. I’ll have to pass,’ I say. ‘Sorry.’
Why am I saying sorry? I’m not sorry at all.
The man sighs.
I grab my drink and head over to where Donnie is sitting. I plonk down on the sunbed next to him, under a cabana by the pool.
‘Okay, what’s your deal?’ I ask him. ‘You’re just like, what, Hawaii’s friendly neighbourhood busybody?’
I’m joking, but I really want to know the answer.
Donnie laughs.
‘Look, I’m here on my own, I’m bored out of my mind,’ he tells me. ‘I went through a bad break-up, and I thought the time away from my day-to-day life might do me some good, but being here alone, all I can really do is think – or listen. I know you’re looking for a wedding date, but, come on, turning up with a guy wearing a wedding ring isn’t going to impress anyone. Unless, of course, you’re wearing one too.’
