Monkey Business. Sarah Mlynowski

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СКАЧАТЬ and say hello as if they were at a business meeting. The Brazilian guy jumped the lecturer and kissed her cheeks. The Japanese man bowed and wouldn’t go near her. She then taught us that in this wonderful country, you shake hands. Thanks again.

      After a full day of more useless instruction, I headed back to my room, pushed my duffel bag off my slightly stained mattress and stared at the wall, feeling overwhelmed. As I lay on the bare, squeaky mattress, I congratulated myself on finally getting here. Of course, I’d paid a price. I’d given up a top-paying consulting job in Toronto. And left my girlfriend. And taken out a massive loan.

      Hoping that someone would come by and make me feel better, I left the door open. Ten minutes later Jamie stood just outside my room. When he invited me to join him and Nick in wandering around, I gladly accepted. Nick and I quickly led the group to the closest bar, where we got pissed.

      We’d sat together at the dean’s welcoming address today. Nick had occupied himself by reading the Wall Street Journal on his PDA while Jamie checked out the women and promptly fell asleep.

      I listened in awe, rubbing the felt of my chair with adoration and amazement. I was sitting in a top B-school auditorium. I was finally here. A B-school student majoring in…well, I don’t know yet what I’m majoring in. There are so many amazing choices. Finance, Marketing, International Business, Entrepreneurship…

      “You are the future Fortune 500, the future entrepreneurs of America, the future CEOs of the world,” the dean had told us, sending chills through my spine. I had expected him to look more like Dumbledore from Harry Potter, but he looked more built than wizardly, with his wide shoulders and buff upper torso. Kind of like The Hulk. Sharon would have thought he was hot.

      Oh, man. Sharon. “I gotta take off,” I say, carefully rolling myself off the floor. I don’t want to touch the tissues strewn around. I’m not sure what’s in them.

      Nick pushes me back down. “Come on, dude, finish this joint with me.”

      Why not? I’ll stay a few more minutes. Arm officially twisted, I inhale, hoping it’ll help me sleep. I’ve been too excited to get any rest. “So,” I say to Jamie, “while we were at the sports bar, you were getting laid, eh? We stopped by the beer bash, but someone said you’d left with a chick.”

      I pass the joint to Jamie, but Jamie motions it away and grins. “Your information is correct, Russ. I did leave with someone, but I don’t like to kiss and tell.”

      Nick boots up his sleek-looking laptop. “What’s her name? Was it the tall blonde?”

      “Nope.” Jamie sits down on the corner of the desk. “Oh, why not. Her name is Kimmy. She just got here today.”

      “I’m going to need her last name, dude.”

      “Kimmy Nailer.”

      “Come on!” I laugh. “Nail-her? That’s her name?”

      Nick clicks away on his keyboard, and I peer onto the screen. “Are you going to Google her?” I ask.

      “Much better than that, dude.” He clicks on to the LWBS Web site. Then he clicks on to a section labeled Calling Card. A list of names pops up on the screen. “Every person in our class is on here. With photos.”

      “Why are some of the names purple and some blue?” I lean toward the screen to take a better look. “Why are all the girls’ names in purple?”

      “Because I’ve checked them all out,” Nick says.

      “Someone’s been busy.” Maybe that’s what the tissues were for.

      “Hey, Jamie Grossman,” Nick says, then pauses. “Why don’t you have a picture up? I thought you might be a babe.”

      The term babe might be just as annoying as dude. I prefer “chick”—Sharon hates it.

      Jamie looks away. “I keep forgetting to bring it in.”

      Nick clicks on Kimmy’s name. A sexy brunette with significant breast exposure flashes across the screen. Nick whistles. “Nice work, dude.”

      I nod. “Hot.” Too bad it’s not a full-length picture. Nice top. She’d look great in matching tight white pants. Love it when women wear white pants. Don’t know what it is about the white, but it turns me on.

      Nick clicks on me. I’m making my best “I’m serious” face. I got a haircut specifically before taking the picture and put on my favorite suit and tie.

      “Bet you were wearing jeans underneath that jacket, Russ,” Nick says. “Like everyone does.”

      Now why didn’t I think of that? I wasted a clean pair of pants. Stupid. I have a twenty-thousand-dollar tuition loan over my head, and dry cleaning is a splurge. I nod so I don’t look like a moron.

      Nick clicks back to Kimmy Nailer. “I didn’t think babes like her went to B-school.”

      “They do,” Jamie says. “And she’s mine, so keep your grubby hands off.”

      “You two already a couple?” I ask.

      He half nods. “Working on it.”

      “That sucks,” Nick whines, kicking the side of his bed, jolting me. “I wish we hadn’t gone to Moe’s for wings. Then I could have had a crack at her. That rack is A-plus.”

      I shrug. “I thought the wings were A-plus.”

      “What do you care?” Nick says. “You have a woman.”

      Jamie looks down at my hand. “You married, Russ? I don’t see a ring.”

      Married? Oh, man. “No wife,” I answer. “Girlfriend.”

      “Serious?”

      “Pretty serious.”

      He accidentally knocks over an empty binder from the desk, then leans to pick it up. “Do you date other women?”

      “No.”

      “Even if you don’t tell her?” Nick asks, eyebrow raised.

      “Never have.” Nope, never cheated on Sharon. And since Sharon was my first real girlfriend, that means I never cheated on anyone.

      She wasn’t thrilled with my plan to come to the States. She didn’t understand why I couldn’t go to B-school at home. There are some great schools, like Western and U of T, but I’ve always dreamed of going to an American top ten. I promised her I’d come home after I graduated. Go back to my old job or get a better one in Toronto. She’s not a big fan of living in the U.S. Hates the health-care system, thinks the corporations run the place. Her family is all in Toronto, and she wants to buy a house next door to her sister, get married and have kids. Lots of kids. There are pictures of other people’s babies all over her apartment.

      I take a longer look at the hot chick’s cleavage. What if I come across a BBD (translation: Bigger Better Deal)?

      “What’s your girlfriend like?” Jamie asks, СКАЧАТЬ