Paradise Wild (Wild At Heart Book 2)

by Christine Hartmann

  Chapter 7

  Later that evening, Ellie’s white Sentra pulled over crushed vines into her uninviting driveway. She parked the car and locked the gate. The house looked dark and uninviting after the lights and excitement of the hotel.

  When she pushed open the heavy door, Viv sat statuesque in the wooden foyer. She slung him over her shoulder.

  “I sometimes wish you were a big, scary German shepherd.”

  Viv rubbed his face against her cheek and purred.

  “I know.” She stroked against the grain of his fur. “Nobody protects me from creepy crawlies better than you.”

  She laid her phone on the kitchen counter. The screen indicated two text messages from an 808 number.

  Great. More creepy crawlies to worry about.

  Viv hopped from her arm and batted the phone across the granite surface. Ellie rapped his paw.

  “Bad cat. This is not an eight-hundred-dollar cat toy.”

  She spun the phone around and read the first message:

  Hey it’s Noa. Hope 2CU soon.

  And the second:

  JTOU.

  Well, I wasn’t thinking of you, Noa. What I was thinking about was how you got my number.

  She swiped delete and jumped as the device jiggled with a new text from another number she didn’t recognize:

  It’s Denver. JTOU.

  Sounds much better coming from you. She added him to her contact list.

  Ellie: Thx. U busy?

  Denver: At work. As usual.

  Ellie: Not me. Gallery opening tonite.

  She poured cat kibble into Viv’s bowl and got herself a bottle of beer from the refrigerator.

  Denver: Jealous.

  She used one finger to punch her response as she fished in a drawer for an opener.

  Ellie: Would have been more fun if u’d…

  Don’t go there. Keep it light.

  Delete.

  Ellie: Was fun. Did yoga.

  Denver: At gallery?

  Ellie: Private lesson in ritzy spa.

  Ellie gave up the search for the opener and put the beer back in the refrigerator, bumping the door shut with her hip.

  Denver: Now really jealous.

  Ellie: Might go back. Liked the instructor.

  Ellie sucked on her little finger.

  Denver: Was it a man?

  She grinned.

  Gotcha.

  Ellie: Woman. Jacqui.

  Denver: Glad u made a friend.

  Ellie followed Viv to the master bedroom and flopped on the comforter next to him.

  Ellie: Me 2.

  Denver: What u doing now?

  Ellie rolled to her side and fondled the cat. She slowly typed a response, closing one eye as she pushed send.

  Ellie: In bed.

  She flipped quickly onto her back and nervously tapped her feet on the mattress. Viv glared at her and hopped from the wiggling surface.

  Denver: Sweet dreams.

  Ellie’s feet stopped their thumping.

  That’s all you have to say?

  Ellie: U2.

  She boosted herself off the bed and headed back to the kitchen.

  Where’s that damn bottle opener?

  ***

  Chimes woke her the following morning. Her hand fumbled across the nightstand until she found the phone. She held it to her ear with her eyes still closed.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey. It’s Noa.”

  “Noa?” She sat up and quickly tugged her nightshirt up under her chin, hiding her cleavage, feeling as if he’d invaded her personal space.

  “You get my texts? Just calling to say hi.”

  Ellie felt exposed as she looked around the room for a long-sleeved shirt. “Hi. How are you?” She found one, pulled it over her head, and sat on the edge of the bed, legs tightly crossed.

  “You coming by the store today?”

  Are you kidding?

  “Uh. Sorry. I’m busy.” She bit her lip. “And, by the way, how’d you get my number?”

  “Your registration. We keep them here at the store in case we have to check up on anyone.”

  I don’t need you checking up on me.

  Ellie stood. “Look. I’ve got to go. There are people at the door.”

  “Yeah. Catch you later then.”

  “Bye.”

  Ellie threw the phone on the bed and wiped her hand on the sheets as though she’d just touched something dirty.

  A car honked. She pulled apart the heavy venetian blinds. Palm fronds blocked her view. More honking accompanied her frantic dressing. She ran in bare feet across the lawn and tiptoed across the vines to the gate.

  A young man leaned against it, smiling. She read the name of the landscaping company on his shirt through the iron bamboo fronds.

  “Sorry. I forgot you were coming.” She looked down and fiddled with the key in the lock.

  I’ve got my shirt on inside out. Sweet.

  “Mahalo.” The young man waved his thumb and pinkie at her and climbed into a black pickup. A caravan of three trucks and two trailers with machinery drove through. Ellie waved at the muscular youths inside.

  What did Celine say about my not being lonely?

  She picked her way back across the vines toward the house as a burly, gray-haired man with a kind face approached. Six men fanned out across the property behind him. Ellie signed the proffered paperwork and handed the foreman a spare gate key. She skipped up the porch stairs and had her hand on the door when renewed crunching of tires sounded from the drive. A white van pulled up behind the trucks.

  The cleaners.

  Ellie gave the crew of four Asian women a quick tour of the house. Then she retreated to her bedroom to change. But a knock caught her in the act of raising her t-shirt. She pulled it down and answered the door.

  “Man at door. Say you want to buy apply ants.”

  Ellie laughed. “Apply ants? What are those?”

  The young woman nodded seriously, stepped to the side, and motioned for Ellie to go to the door.

  “Got it. I’ll just change.”

  The young woman shook her head and tugged Ellie’s sleeve.

  “Okay. Ants first. Changing for hot studs later.”

  The woman’s brow wrinkled. “Excuse?”

  Ellie grinned. “Never mind.”

  A warm morning breeze blew down the hall. Strands of hair drifted across Ellie’s face and she brushed them out of the way, feeling tangles tug at her fingers.

  Celine would not approve of the first impressions I’m making.

  The middle-aged Caucasian at the door looked as though he belonged in Iowa. His skin was pale and his plaid button-down short-sleeved shirt was tucked into khaki shorts secured with a web belt that looked like it had come from an army surplus store.

  “Mrs. Atherton?”

  Ellie glanced at his serious face and bit back a laugh.

  “Kind of.”

  “You called. Said you wanted to buy some appliances. You wanted…” He checked a computer printout. “An estimate for a refrigerator, stove, microwave, dishwasher, and disposal.”

  “I want to buy apply-ant-ces. I get it.”

  A weed whacker revved to a screeching start in the garden, followed closely by the roar of two rider mowers.

  Ellie sighed and nodded. “You might as well come in.”

  Two hours passed before she re-entered her bedroom suite. There, the shining bathroom floor, glittering mirror, and sparkling chrome made her grab her purse and run.

  “Wait.” She beckoned to the women in the white van backing cautiously around the gardeners’ trucks. The driver lowered her window.

  “House okay?” Her glance at Ellie betrayed an anxiety to please.

  “House is fantastic. Amazing. You did an awesome job.” She gave a thumbs up.

  The woman showed a row of brilliantly white teeth.

  “Here.” Ellie fished five twenties from her wallet. “A tip.”

  The woman’s seat belt cons
trained her attempt at a bow. “Mahalo.”

  Ellie inclined her head. “Mahalo to you.” She stepped back. The women in the back of the van beamed at her.

  She waved and spoke softly to herself. “I think Viv’s never going to forgive you, though, when he figures out you cleaned up all his dead roaches.”

  Ellie strolled toward the house and suddenly stopped.

  The vines are gone.

  The entire driveway, previously choked with green tangles, was now bare. Its cracked, dingy asphalt and crushed gravel lay exposed, a dull charcoal gray. Sharply manicured grass edged its sides. Ellie closed her eyes and inhaled air tinged with the scent of freshly mowed lawn. Her shoulders relaxed. Then a leaf blower exploded into life, driving her back into the house.

  Before noon, the kitchen overflowed with dirty bowls and spoons. White flour dusted the counters. The air smelled of baking cookies. Viv lay on the windowsill, blinking at Ellie who flung open cabinet after cabinet.

  “Where’d I put that stupid serving tray?” She stood still, hands on hips. “What’s the logical place for that?”

  She scanned the enormous room. “Who needs fifty cabinets in a kitchen? This isn’t a freaking hotel.”

  She finally found it over the oven and piled it high with warm chocolate chip cookies. After hesitating, she removed a few and put them on a plate.

  “No point in giving away all of them.” She bit into one and peeked at herself in the shiny surface of the large but defective refrigerator.

  Hair brushed. Bikini on. Sarong tied provocatively. Celine would be happy.

  Outside, she stepped carefully while investigating the uneven ground for stumbling hazards and simultaneously watched the tray for signs it might topple. Gardeners clustered near their trucks eating lunch. They ignored her until she came close, when one of the young men caught her eye.

  “These are for you.” Ellie proffered the tray, which tipped dangerously.

  The man jumped to his feet and relieved her of the load.

  “Wow. Thanks.” His accent indicated he wasn’t a local. He brought the food back to his co-workers. Ellie she fended off a volley of thank yous with a wave of her hand and a smile.

  The youth sauntered up to her again, amid some muted whistling from his friends. He munched a cookie and held two extra.

  “We’re going to devour that.” He jerked his head back at the others. “I thought you might want some yourself.”

  Ellie declined.

  The youth looked hurt. “My hands are clean. I used hand sanitizer before I touched them.”

  Ellie blushed. “It’s not that. I dropped a whole sheet of them on the floor earlier. I didn’t have as many as I’d planned, so I took some from your tray before I brought it out.”

  “Bummer about the accident.”

  “You’re telling me.”

  The youth blinked in the sunshine and shielded his eyes.

  He looks like a high schooler. Can’t be more than twenty-one.

  Ellie pulled her sarong higher, covering her cleavage. “Can you show me what you’ve done so far?”

  “Sure.” He stuffed another cookie in his mouth. “I’m just part-time. But I know what everyone’s up to.”

  “Great. I just want to get an overview, so I can tell the owner.”

  “Sure.” The final cookie disappeared with remarkable speed. “I’m Brandon.” He held out his hand.

  She shook it. “I’m Ellie.”

  Brandon strolled over to the fountain on the ragged lawn. “Here’s what I’m doing. We don’t know if we can get this to work.” He pointed to a concealed pipe and on-off handle. Will probably take a plumber. But I’m in charge of rebuilding the wall.” He kicked some loose lava rocks. “Got to take most of it apart first. There’s vines all in it.”

  Ellie looked at the fountain’s immobile dancer, framed by the ocean. “From here she looks like she’s standing on the water.”

  Brandon cocked his head. “Yeah. And giving us Molokini.”

  Ellie pointed. “That’s the little island? What’s the big one?”

  “Kaho’olawe.”

  Ellie narrowed her eyes. “Really? Say that slowly.”

  “Ka-ho-o-la-vey. Hawaiian words sound like they’re spelled.”

  “That doesn’t help. I couldn’t spell that to save my life.”

  Brandon laughed. “You’ve heard of the state fish, right?”

  “No.”

  He winked. “Humuhumunukunukuapua’a.”

  Ellie burst out laughing. “What’s that in English?”

  “Triggerfish.”

  “That’s the reason I speak only English. I don’t want to break my tongue.”

  Brandon nodded his chin toward the bushes at the edge of the property. “Want me to show you what we’ve been doing over there?”

  ***

  Late that afternoon, Ellie clicked shut her laptop and responded to a knock at the front door. She squinted out the long living room windows into sun and noticed the gardening crew packing up. She waved at Brandon.

  A backlit figure leaned against the open door. Her eyes adjusted. She stepped back as Noa stepped into the house.

  “Hey, Ellie. Though I’d stop by.”

  Ellie’s toes curled in her flip-flops. She crossed her arms but didn’t say anything.

  “I’ve been thinking of you.” Noa smiled and stepped closer.

  Ellie brushed past him onto the porch. She spoke slowly. “I don’t remember inviting you.”

  “No problem.” Noa made a noncommittal gesture with his head. “The gate was open.”

  Ellie looked at the trucks in the driveway. Brandon was loading hedge trimmers into the bed of a pickup. “I don’t see your car.”

  Noa moved closer and obstructed her view. He tried to catch her eye. “I parked on the road. Didn’t want to block the workers when they leave.”

  Ellie avoided his gaze, backed into the deck chair, and scooted around it.

  “Look. No offence. But I don’t like people just showing up.”

  Noa’s face registered genuine surprise. “Even me?”

  Ellie’s lips tightened. “What do you mean?”

  “I thought I’d be welcome any time, babe.”

  Noa moved around the chair. Ellie spun it. The armrest caught his knee.

  “Shit.” He bent and rubbed the spot. “That fucking hurt.” He raised his head with a blackened look. “What’s up with you?”

  Ellie forced herself to look him in the eyes. “Please leave.”

  “I don’t have to.”

  “Yes, actually, you do.” The man’s voice made both Noa and Ellie turn. Brandon stood at the top of the stairs with his arms at his side, fingers loosely curled. Ellie shot him a look of gratitude.

  Noa stared at him. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Brandon. Ellie’s friend.”

  “I’m Ellie’s friend.” Noa tried to put a possessive arm around Ellie. She trotted from behind the chair to Brandon’s side. Noa dropped his arm. “She never told me about you.”

  Brandon looked at Ellie. “You want him to go?”

  Ellie gave a slight nod.

  “Look.” He stepped toward Noa. “I’m sure you’ve got other things to do.” He pointed to the trucks. “My friends are over there. We just want to go home at the end of a long day.” He opened his arms wide.

  Noa held his ground. “So go. Why the fuck you interfering, brah? She’s my lady. Not yours.”

  At those words, Ellie backed behind Brandon and spoke in a tone she hoped only he could hear. “I hardly know this guy.”

  Brandon nodded. “How about it, dude?” He motioned toward the stairs.

  An instant later, he danced sideways and Noa’s punch shot through open air. Brandon grabbed Noa’s fist and twisted it behind his back. Ellie saw the other gardeners drop their machinery and advance as one being toward the porch.

  Brandon pushed Noa gently down the steps and let him stumble to standing.

  Noa looked fr
om the group moving toward him to Brandon and Ellie.

  “You two-timing bitch. I knew you’d turn out to be like all the others. Fucking sleeping around behind my back.”

  The pack advanced. Noa fled, limping, across the lawn.

  “You have a house alarm?” Brandon’s eyes flicked at the door and windows.

  Ellie held back tears, her whole body trembling. “No.”

  “Lock everything up at night. I think he’s harmless. But it’s better to be safe.”

  “You don’t have to tell me. I’m pushing furniture against the doors tonight.”

  Brandon removed a cell phone from his pocket. “What’s your number?”

  Ellie told him.

  “I’m texting you. If you have a problem, call the police. But if I can help, you have my number.”

  Ellie locked the door behind her and strode around the house closing the windows. Viv followed her, dejected.

  “Sorry, Viv.” Ellie fastened the final latch. “New rule for inside. No more creepy crawlies.”

  Chapter 8

  Jacqui flipped into a yoga headstand, her legs stretched toward the bright blue morning sky, her toes pointing at a lonely cloud drifting toward Molokini. Ellie wiggled her toes in the sand, still partly shadowed by the enormous hotel at their backs. She studied the other women waiting for Jacqui to return to an upright position. Athleticism was the predominant feature of the group, evidenced by little arm flab, tight tummies, and solid derrieres. Ellie tugged her tank top over her Lycra swim bottoms.

  Wish I hadn’t eaten that second malasada.

  Jacqui’s feet plopped to the sand. Her spine undulated like a cobra, rolling until she stood upright and faced the group. Her face glowed in the pink morning light.