"But the tide might come in and drown me, and I have to go to work tomorrow."
"I could tell your boss you've drowned."
"No, I wouldn't dare not turn up." She shook her head. "You don't know my boss."
"Oh? Is he tall, dark and handsome? Tell me about him."
"He always needs a haircut, and he's fierce. I don't think he does any work because his desk looks like it's just come from the laundry, all clean, shiny and ironed. He just uses his office as a place to play the saxophone. I do all the work."
"What a lazy wretch. You should take your case to the fair work organisation."
"I already did. They said to have patience, because he's heading for an international career as a saxophonist, and then I can have his job."
He didn't respond. Had he taken seriously her last few words, that she wanted his job? She did, but not for a year or two. She glanced at him. Nah, no way was he thinking about work. His jewel eyes glowed. Their silver lights sparked, sending her a message in flashing neon. Trouble. Lee Wylde was going to be big big trouble tonight. Trouble she didn't know if she could handle. Or wanted to.
"Amazing how we still do it," he said softly.
"Do?" She wrenched her glance from the begging-to-be-touched wisps of black hair curling around the edges of his open shirtfront.
"Carry on like that. Like when were were at school."
P.S. I have no monkeys in any of my stories. I couldn't resist adding these two having a serious discussion.