“What about you?” Lexie asked. “How did Owen like the closet design?”
Gina jerked her attention back to Lexie. “The closet design?”
Lexie peered at her like she’d lost her mind. “Yeah, you said you two were working on something together. Bagels. Blueprints.”
“Oh, right.” Gina laughed lightly, but her heart was still trying to fling itself free from her body. “It’s not going to work out.”
“No? You two seemed so sure.”
Gina honestly couldn’t keep track of the conversation. Did Lexie know about her and Owen holding hands? Practically confessing their feelings. They seemed so sure of what?
Thankfully, before the silence got too awkward, Jasper stepped into the room, diverting Lexie’s attention.
“Excuse me, Gina.” She touched Gina’s arm and moved past her, already calling, “Jasper, I need to talk to you about something.”
Gina watched her go, watched the easy way she talked with Jasper like they were old friends. Which, of course, they were. It was only Gina who was new.
Not true, she told herself. Gabi was new too, though she fit right in with her sophisticated clothes and stylish hairstyle. Gina had never seen the woman wear anything but heels, even with jeans. Gina didn’t even know all the ways she was supposed to act as a billionaire, and she wished Owen were with her.
He was polished, poised, and practiced. She was a country bumpkin who’d worked hard, gotten lucky, and refused to give up.
Even though she had money now, she still didn’t know the latest fashions or how to make her hair lay flat like the celebrities did. Sure, she could hire someone, and she had in the past. But it was so hard to know who to trust these days.
“Let’s gather over here,” Fisher finally said just as Gina was gearing up to make her early exit. “Ira has some news out of London.”
Intellectually, Gina knew she needed to expand outside the United States if she wanted to take Classy Closets to the next level. But she was barely hanging on with the business she had now.
She gathered with everyone else and listened like she knew what Ira was talking about. But she didn’t understand how the economy of another country could affect her. The others seemed gravely concerned, especially Jasper, whose diamond mines and business were globally located and operated.
Gina made it through without saying anything, just like she had many, many times before. As she left the meeting, though, she wondered why she allowed herself to fade into the background.
She was smart. She could learn global economics, just like she’d learned how to interview and hire employees, set up payroll, manage a team of people.
So she’d trusted the wrong person once. Did that mean she’d never be able to trust again?
As she set her feet down the beachwalk toward The Straw, Lexie at her side, she decided that she was done letting Ian’s behavior drive hers.
So he’d stolen from her. Lied to her. Left her. She hadn’t been broken—and it was time to start acting like it.
“Who does your shopping?” she asked Lexie as they joined the line outside the drink stand.
Lexie looked at her, clearly flummoxed. “What?”
Gina indicated her clothes. “Your shopping. You have someone, right?”
Lexie glanced down at her outfit—a pair of black slacks, black flats, and a purple-blue blouse with white flowers splashed all over it. She was the picture of professional and approachable.
“Why? Is it that bad?”
Gina frowned. “I need some help when it comes to fashion. I thought maybe I’d hire your person.”
Lexie started laughing and linked her arm through Gina’s. “I don’t have a person,” she said. “I picked these out myself.”
Gina grinned at her. “Then maybe you’ll help me find some cute stuff.”
“You want to go shopping together?” They stepped forward, and Sasha perked up.
“Shopping?” she said. “I’m in. And Tawny’s been dying to go find a new formal dress. I guess Tyler’s got another black tie event, and she insists she can’t wear the same thing as last time.”
Gina’s first instinct was to back out, go alone. But she resisted it and said, “Sure. When should we go?”
Sasha looked at Maddy, the woman helping her in the stand today. “Tomorrow? You want to work again?”
“So you can go shopping?” Maddy ripped off another order and waggled the paper in front of Sasha’s nose. “I guess so. I could use the extra hours since Palu didn’t get a scholarship.” She rolled her eyes and mumbled something in Hawaiian that Lexie laughed about.
Gina ordered the same thing she always did—the Hawaiian Rockstar, with peach, power powder, strawberries, and “rockstar” fruit—and stood off to the side. Out of the way. Not in the conversation.
So maybe it would take more than a couple of conversations for a new habit to start. As Sasha made and passed out drinks, finally getting to Gina an Lexie, Gina was just proud that she hadn’t gone straight back to her room after the Nine-0 Club meeting. That she’d gone out with Lexie, talked to her, and now had a shopping trip on the horizon for tomorrow.
She wouldn’t be telling Owen about that. Combined with the coffee date they had, he’d insist she should be lying down instead of shopping.
But Gina worked hard for her money, and it was about time she spent some of it.
“So,” Lexie said as they meandered down the beach, back toward the bigger bay. “I wasn’t at the Women’s Beach Club this morning, but I heard a whisper about you and a certain general manager.”
Gina shook her head and sucked on her smoothie. “Nothing to whisper about.”
“You sure?” Lexie peered at her, and there was something about the woman that could see through steel. At least Gina thought so.
“He’s….”
“Handsome?” Lexie supplied. “Rich? Hard-working? Seriously, there’s nothing to dislike about Owen Church.”
Oh, but there was. Gina just didn’t want to say so out loud. “He has bad handwriting.”
Lexie laughed, her feet kicking up sand as she scuffed them. “If that’s his biggest flaw, then you should marry him tomorrow.”
The very thought of marriage sent Gina into a tailspin, and she worked to right herself emotionally again. Lexie knew very little about her. Heck, no one knew anything about her.
“I’m not the marrying type,” she said. “Or the motherly type, if you get my drift.”
Lexie brushed her hair off her face. “So Owen’s biggest flaw is his kids?”
“Something like that.” Gina gazed out over the water, finding it tranquil, with hardly any undulation in it. But she knew better. She knew that once a person got out in the bay, the water could be choppier than could be seen from shore.
“You’re an interesting person, Gina,” Lexie said.
“Owen said that too.” Gina looked at Lexie, knowing the other woman wanted the same thing Owen did, just on a friendship level instead of a relationship level. “He wants me to tell him all my secrets.”
Familiar fear gripped Gina’s stomach. “I don’t know if I can.”
Lexie wore a sympathetic smile that only touched her mouth. She linked her arm through Gina’s and said, “One question, and then maybe a solution. You game?”
“I guess.”
“Do you like Owen? Want to maybe see if you two could be together?”
“Yes.” Gina could barely get the word past the lump in her throat. Zach was graduating this year. She wouldn’t really have to play the domestic mother, a role she knew nothing about and didn’t want to learn.
“Okay, that’s a start.”
“What’s the solution?” Gina asked.
“You tell me all your secrets first, as practice. And then it won’t be so hard when you tell Owen.”
Gina thought sure Lexie was joking, but one direct look at her, and nope.
“You look like I said you’ll have to swim with sharks.” Lexie smiled and focu
sed on the horizon again. “I didn’t have a great childhood either. My father was an alcoholic.”
Gina let the sand sift over her feet, the heat of it almost burning but not quite. She wanted this friendship, to anchor herself to something human again, to not feel so alone.
Maybe Getaway Bay and the people she’d met here were exactly what she needed.
“I grew up in the foster care system,” she said. “Because my mother was a drug addict and I don’t know who my father is.”
“Oh, wow.” Lexie’s arm tightened. “I can see why you maybe don’t want to tell Owen.”
“I’ve told him that one.”
“So you’ve already started.” Lexie danced ahead of her, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
Gina couldn’t help the grin that graced her face in return. But she wasn’t sure about this arrangement. Perhaps she could judge how Owen would take things based on Lexie’s reactions though.
“What else have you got?” Lexie asked, and Gina shook her head, a laugh starting to rumble up from deep inside.
Chapter Eight
Owen jumped to his feet, yelling for his son, who’d just launched the ball from the corner of the free throw line—and hit the shot. Only fifteen seconds remained in the game, and the basket had just put Cooper’s team up by one.
The two teams had been volleying back and forth for the past six minutes, and Owen wasn’t sure he could handle the stress. He really wanted Cooper’s first starting game to be a winner.
Beside him, Zach cheered too, something that filled Owen’s heart with gladness. Zach had been acting strange the past couple of months, and Owen had attributed it to the scholarship application process, but maybe it was the UCLA secret. Or maybe something else.
But Zach seemed like himself at the moment, and when he’d had to be reminded three times to come to the game.
The crowd yelled for both sides, and the guard on the opposing team just kept dribbling the ball. Bounce, bounce, bounce. If he got off the last shot and sank it….
Owen pressed his eyes closed, the noise swirling around him. There had to be only a few seconds left.
He opened his eyes and glanced at the clock. Four seconds. The guard shot. From his slanted position down the court, he couldn’t tell if it would go in or not.
It hit the rim, bounced, hit again, and fell out.
Owen couldn’t believe he could still get his feet off the ground, but he did it. He jumped and clapped Zach on the back, his face hurting from the width of his smile.
While he didn’t like that one team had to lose—there could very well be a boy on the other team who’d just started for the first time and really wanted to win—Owen had learned that, in life, there were winners and losers.
His real estate career had taught him that. So had his first marriage. And his boys taught him that every day.
His pocket buzzed, and he pulled his phone out to find Fisher’s name on the screen. He didn’t answer it—Owen wouldn’t be able to hear the call anyway—and instead sent a text. I need ten minutes. Call you then. Okay?
Fisher responded with Okay. Did Coop win?
Yes!
Owen put his phone away as the crowd emptied onto the floor. He managed to stay behind Zach, who’d grown an inch taller than him over the past year, and they made their way to Cooper.
“You did it!” Owen shouted, giving his son a big hug. Moments like this made his wish he could be two people: a mother and a father. His sons had never gone without, at least monetarily. But Owen knew they struggled from time to time for no reason other than their mom had abandoned them a decade ago.
Zach had quit his counseling in October, when he’d turned eighteen. Owen still made Cooper go every month, and he didn’t complain about it—yet.
He held Cooper tighter for maybe a moment longer than necessary and then released him to Zach, who also hugged him.
“Celebratory dinner,” he said. “Wherever you want.”
“I’ve gotta do the end-game stuff,” Cooper said.
“Yeah, of course. We’ll wait.” Owen refused to think about the towers of work he’d left on his desk. It would still be there tomorrow, barring a volcanic eruption or a huge tropical storm. And he’d have heard of those if they were about to happen.
“Half an hour,” Cooper said, grinning for all he was worth as the coach called for him to join the team.
The adrenaline wore off and Owen dialed Fisher to find out what his boss needed. “Hey,” he said. “What’s up?”
“Are you coming back tonight?” Fisher asked.
“Not for a while. Gonna go out with the boys to celebrate. Cooper hit the winning shot.”
“That’s great,” Fisher said, pure sincerity in his voice. “So I’ll just see you tomorrow.”
“I might run over after,” Owen said. “Depends on how late we go.” At five-thirty on an almost weekend, the dinner crowds could be big. It wasn’t unusual for him to work late—sometimes as late as nine or ten.
Cooper chose the best burger joint on the island, but it wasn’t in Getaway Bay. Around the curve sat a dude ranch, with cattle and cowboys and everything. And their hamburgers were the best in the United States, but being in Hawaii, they didn’t get the recognition they deserved.
Owen grinned as he watched his son eat the fried dill pickle burger and his beer-battered French fries. Zach talked a lot, and Owen committed these joyful, fun moments to his memory.
The band finished their set, and Owen said, “Should we go? Who has homework?”
By the looks on his sons’ faces, Owen knew they both did. Neither spoke. He chuckled, and said, “I have to go back to the hotel. You guys want to grab your stuff and come over and work on it in my office? Or should I drop you at home?”
“I’ll come over,” Cooper said.
“Me too.” Zach shoved his phone in his back pocket and smiled at his dad.
So Owen drove all the way back around the island so his boys could get their backpacks, and then they went back to Sweet Breeze.
When he opened the door to his office, he found Fisher sitting at his desk as if the man had expected Owen to walk in at any moment.
“Fisher.” Surprise colored Owen’s voice. “How long have you been here?” He waited for Cooper and Zach to enter and everyone exchanged hellos.
“I have something for you.” Fisher grinned at Cooper. “I heard you hit the winning shot today.” Fisher tucked his hands in his pockets but he wore a wolfish grin that meant Cooper was about to get an outrageous gift from the billionaire.
Owen had stopped protesting and had chosen to spend his time and energy lecturing the boys to be grateful, say thank you and mean it, and not let anything inflate their egos.
Zach took his backpack to the couch against the wall and sat down while Cooper accepted an envelope from Fisher.
“What’s this, Mister DuPont?” Cooper flipped it over and over.
“Open it and see.” Fisher tossed a look at Owen, who raised his eyebrows.
Cooper ripped the flap and pulled out a pair of tickets. “The Blues Street Boys.” He laughed, his entire countenance brightening. “Thank you, Fisher.” He hugged the man as they both chuckled.
“I have it on very good authority that they’re your favorite band.”
“They are,” Cooper said, looking at Owen. “Did you tell him that?”
“I did not.” Owen moved around the desk, wondering what Fisher had disturbed and how long he’d been there.
“Who did then?”
“Stacey told me,” Fisher said, grinning. “The woman has a way of learning things. I don’t try to understand anymore.”
“Stacey takes the boys to lunch once a month,” Owen said as he sat down. “Coop probably told her then.”
“I don’t remember,” Cooper said, but Zach said, “Yeah, you were going on about them coming to the island, to that ranch where we just ate.”
“That was months ago.” Cooper looked at the tickets. “They’ve been sold
out forever.”
“Well, sometimes money can buy things that are sold out.” Fisher grinned and said, “Can I steal your dad for a few minutes?”
Owen didn’t like the sound of that, especially with the piles of paperwork he wanted gone from his desk by morning. But he stood anyway. “The boys have homework. Get started, guys. We’ll be back in a minute.”
Fisher led the way into the hall, and they moved down to Fisher’s office. Owen didn’t like how Fisher didn’t start talking right away, but waited until they were both inside with the door closed.
So something personal. Owen prepared himself to deny everything.
“So.” Fisher groaned as he sank into the leather armchair in the corner of the room. His desk was pristine, as Fisher didn’t actually do much work here. If there was something to be done, he brought it to Owen’s office.
Owen sat in the chair across from him. “So.”
“Stacey told me you housed Gina Jackson at your home last night.”
“I did.” Owen kept his face impassive, blank, his voice even. “She hit her head in the suite on the fifth floor. Joyce said she shouldn’t be alone, and she doesn’t have any family on the island.” Owen blinked and took a moment to breathe. “So it was either have her stay in the guest bedroom, or stay with her in the standard room on the eighth floor.” He raised his eyebrows, a silent question as to which Fisher would’ve had him do.
“I know you like Gina Jackson.” Fisher wore a sly smile, but Owen shook his head.
“We run together. Work together. We’re friends.” Owen swallowed and fought the urge to fiddle with the knot of his tie. “That’s all.”
“You eat out a lot together.”
“So what? You eat out with Tyler and Jasper and a scad of other people.” Owen shook his head. “We review blueprints over bagels and juice. It’s not a date.”
He thought about the lunch earlier that day that they absolutely had defined as a date, but Fisher would be a beast if he knew that.
“She’s a beautiful woman.”
“Is this what you called me about?” Owen rolled his eyes. “I have work to do, Fisher. I didn’t bring the boys over so you could lecture me about dating. Again.”
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