Page 64 of Serenity

“It was. I wanted to do something fun and different with you. I enjoyed myself.”

Too much. I enjoyed myself way too fucking much, and I wanted to share more firsts with her.

I enjoyed watching the wild yet tame masterpiece of a woman juxtaposed with nature. The way her braids swayed teasingly against her thighs. The way her skin glowed in competition with the sun. The way she smiled. What was not to fucking enjoy? My view had been both exotic and immaculate.

“Duke?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Have you—Do you have my purse?” She asked, frantically looking around the table.

“Naw. You had it.”

“I—I think I may have left it—”

Serenity rose, clearing the few feet to where her bag was still sitting on the ledge of the lookout point in no time. As she went to grab the abandoned Dior bag, I paid our tab.

“Arghhh!”

Mid-handoff of the cedi (Ghanaian currency) to our waitress, I froze. The scream of terror was heard across the entire restaurant. Undoubtedly, ears had begun to split with the sound. In an instant, my legs took flight, running toward Serenity. Biram was behind me, gun drawn, scaling the area for a threat.

“What’s wrong, Bee?”

“He—it—it.”

Pointing in the direction of the trees, her finger and stiletto nail shook wildly.

“Come here. Sit down and tell me what happened.”

Steering her by the elbow with my arm around her waist, we sat on one of the benches while Biram continued scanning the perimeter for a threat. Stooped to meet her distant gaze, I waited until she was ready to speak.

“The baboon,” she stammered once she’d caught her breath and leveled her breathing. “The baboon took my bag.”

“The baboon took your bag?”

Erupting in chuckles from behind, Biram approached. Fighting the inclination to follow suit, I bit my inner jaw. “Are you okay, though, Serenity?”

“My passport is in that bag. My money.”

“But baby, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just can’t believe this. He looked into my soul, showed his yellow-ass teeth, screeched, and took off with my purse.”

“I will look around the restaurant’s surrounding area for it,” Biram announced, unable to stifle his laughter.

Upon arrival at Mole, we were warned of the notorious sticky-fingered baboons in the park. Naturally, Serenity wasn’t paying attention to her bag because we hadn’t encountered any baboons and didn’t think we would anytime soon.

“I swear I was watching my bag, Duke.”

“You were watching for the wrong species, apparently,” I teased.

“Is it red?” Biram cut in.

“Hmm?”

“Is it red, your bag?” He repeated.

“Yes.”