WARNING: Terrible puns ahead!
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My dad's office was in the Shipwreck Building on the corner of Coral and Pacific. I usually swam there after school since it was just down the reef. I'd do my homework in the breakroom then he drove us home in his submersible at the end of the day.
Other than that, I barely ever saw my dad. He was a corporate predator, a real shark in the boardroom. His work ethic could be summed up as never stop swimming, or you'll suffocate, so he was pretty detached. Also, my mom's fin was turned into soup when I was just a pup. So, yeah, my life was pretty lonely, even for a tiger shark.
I had a few friends, but not here, not after dad moved us to the big reef for his shiny new promotion to CESP. That is Chief Executive Super Predator. It's also hard to make new friends when you have more teeth than all of them combined.
At least my classes were engaging, so I didn't mind attacking my homework, and I was all business when I swam up to my dad's office that day. I had a huge essay due for anthropology about the culinary history of humans, how sharks through the ages have made the bony land creatures actually taste good.
I stopped for a license plate sandwich on the way and tore into it as soon I entered the office. It was a bit salty, but I love the rich texture of an Oregon plate, especially compared to a Connecticut plate, but that's a pretty low sandbar to clear.
As I tore the sheet metal apart, I was greeted by the extremely sexy voice of my dad's secretary.
"Good afternoon, Tiger!" she almost sang.
"Oh, hey, Ms. Atlanta," I said, "Is my dad here today?"
"Tiger, I've known you since you and Ariel used to play Pirates and Navy in the backyard. Call me Syren," she said with a beautiful smile, "And your dad's gone for the afternoon. An anchor crashed into the factory, so he had to inspect the damage."
Ms. Atlanta, or Syren, I guess, was the mom of one of my childhood friends. She and her daughter Ariel were mermaids, and I have fantasized about both of them since I learned what the things hanging between my pelvic fins were for.
Syren was almost 500, but she didn't look a day over 350, with long hair that I guess was a color called red, but we were usually too deep to see it. So it was more like a gorgeous black which she tied back in a tight but cute bun so it wouldn't float in her face.
I pretended to look her in the eye, but my attention was usually drawn to her full, delicious lips. I swear those lips couldn't make any shape that wasn't sexy, and her voice sounded almost like she was singing all the time.
Best of all were her two enormous ballast tanks. They didn't have any sag since they floated freely in the water, and each one was as big as one of those balls that humans sometimes throw into the water, the white ones with the stitching. I once found one with a handprint and a face drawn on it. It was delicious, and so was the castaway who lost it, but I digress.
Her daughter was easy on the eyes too, and we've been friends since I was old enough to understand that there were some sea creatures I wasn't allowed to eat. Unfortunately, Ariel did not come to college with me when I asked and opted to study abroad in the Meditteranean. So I never got the chance to tell her I wanted to be more than friends.
I was thrilled when I found out my dad hired her mom as his secretary, though. If I couldn't hang out with Ariel anymore, then at least I would still see her mom daily.
Back to the present, I thought about what Syren had said. The factory was on the other end of the reef, so if dad was there...
"Oh," I said, "Well, how am I getting home tonight?"
"Oh, don't worry about it," she said, "I can drive you home."
"You can?" I asked, "Wow! That is huge of you! Thanks, Ms. Atlanta, er, Syren."
"No problem, Tiger," she said.
Tiger was my name, but the way she said it was a bit more... seductive than usual. And wait, was she biting her lip at me? I pushed those thoughts aside because I needed to focus on schoolwork and swam to the breakroom.
An hour later, my essay went swimmingly, and I was in full attack mode like the paper was a helpless seal. Oh man, what I would do to munch on a baby harp seal right about now. As I salivated over my writing, imagining all the ways to cook humans that I was describing, Syren swam up behind me.
"Hey," she smiled, and I immediately felt my claspers twitch, "I brought you a cup of coffee." It had all floated out of the cup, leaving a dark brown cloud behind her, but it was the thought that counted.
"Thanks," I said and took a bite out of the mug.
"Mind if I join you?" she asked and floated over the table in front of me.
"Yes," I stammered, "I mean no! I mean, sure, you can join me!"
Neptune, damn it! Why is she so distracting? She drifted softly to the tabletop and laid her face in her palms while looking over my work.
"Anthropology?" she asked, and I nodded, "I can understand why it's so engaging. I want to be where the people are too. That's a typo, by the way."
She pointed to the paper, and I erased it in frustration.
"Do you need any help editing it?" she asked.
"Uh, no thanks," I said, then made the mistake of glancing up. She was lying down in front of me, so I saw all the way down her blouse. I gulped and looked back down, but it was too late. She'd seen me staring down her cleavage.
"Why are you embarrassed?" she asked, then pushed herself off the table and drifted behind me. She draped one of her arms across my fin then propped her cheek up with her elbow on the table. The angle meant she stared right at me.
"I well... I... oh my, is it getting warm in here?" I asked.
Syren twisted so she leaned back against the table with her tail floating behind me and said, "I don't know, you tell me."
