For the first time in her life, Hope Harper realized: maybe Daddy’s monkey business wasn’t crazy at all.
“Excellent.” Gibbons clapped his hands. “Now, let’s talk money.” hope harper daddy's monkey business
Hope Harper knew two things for certain by the age of twelve: her father loved her more than anything in the world, and he was absolutely, certifiably insane about monkeys. For the first time in her life, Hope
“Hope,” he said, sliding a crumpled flyer across the sticky Formica. “I’ve done it. I’ve finally cracked the code.” “Hope,” he said, sliding a crumpled flyer across
Seventeen of the forty-two primates on the roster were not legally owned. They were “guests.” Or “friends of the family.” Or, in one memorable case, “a spiritual companion who happens to have prehensile tail.”
Her father looked up from a spreadsheet, saw the notebook, and sighed. He took off his glasses, polished them on his shirt, and said the words that would change everything:
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