"That was a shitty night!" Mike threw up his hands as they left the club.
"And why would you say that?" Jeff smirked, shoving a napkin into his pocket.
"Because Dara wasn't there!"
"Dara you say? So this girl does have a name."
"Yes and it is beautiful, like Aphrodite herself named her! It just rolls of the tongue, Dara, Dara, Dara…" Mike mused.
Jeff laughed at his brothers' clear drunkenness, and yet at the same time was oddly happy for him. Mike never caught lucky breaks with women; they always seemed to find someone more interesting after a week or so, mainly him. But Jeff vowed, on Bourbon Street, Downtown Paris, that he will not take this girl away from Mike. But if this Dara happened to simply be more interested in him and left Mike for him on her own free will, so be it. There were loop holes in all of Jeff's plans.
The next night, Jeff distracted Mike into the same club.
"I swear on our brotherhood that I saw her walk in here."
"We don't have a brotherhood and you don't know what she looks like."
"Come on Mike, I really like their rum."
"Rum is rum; you can get the same kind at the place down the street."
"But this one makes me…feel special."
Mike gave Jeff a skeptical look and decided that Jeff was already drunk. He swayed dangerously. Mike took him into the club.
Then he saw her.
So did Mike.
"I can't believe it. You were right."
Mike walked over and sat down beside her. Jeff stayed where he was. He slowly approached and noticed that she smiled politely at Mike. She caught his eye over Mike's shoulder and he turned to meet Jeff.
"Jeff, this is Dara, the girl from the plane."
Jeff nodded and sat beside Mike.
"Do I know you?"
"I don't think so."
She smiled slightly and turned her attention back to Mike.
That was all she said to Jeff. Oddly enough, he never felt the need to leave.