Page 88 of Johnny

flip-flops on her feet, only everything’s now made of leather instead of plastic and there are more

straps.

I raise one eyebrow at her.

“What? They’re leather.”

I turn to the cashier and say, “Can you charge it to the room?”

“Cabaña three,” he says with a wink. “You got it.”

I turn back to Megan, who is biting the tag with her teeth. “For fuck’s sake,” I say, snatching the

sandals from her hands. I break the tag, put it and the plastic tag holder on the counter and then hand

them back.

She smiles as she kicks off her flip-flops. But then she bends over, picks them up, and says to the

cashier, “And can you have someone deliver these back to our cabaña?”

“Seriously?” I ask.

“What?”

“They’re plastic flip-flops you probably bought from a street vendor.”

“So? I like them. And two pairs of shoes is always better than one.”

“Speaking of…” I grab her sandals, eyeball the size, then walk over to the women’s shoe section,

grab a pair of water shoes in her size, and plop them on the counter. “We’ll take these too.”

“God, he’s romantic, isn’t he?” Megan asks the clerk, fake swooning with a hand over her heart.

The clerk just smiles at me and nods. “I will have them both delivered safely. No worries.”

“Thanks,” I mutter.

“Thank youuuuuu!” Megan calls cheerily.

I walk to the door and hold it open. Megan scoots through and then looks over her shoulder at me,

smiling.

“What?”

“You can be a gentleman, I guess.”

“I’m all gentleman.”

She guffaws. “Yup. You are.”

“I’m not?”

“I just said you are.”

“You said it sarcastically.”