I could hear his footsteps walking away from the door. Reason was slowly creeping back in, and with it, regret and humiliation. What the hell? What the hell, what the hell, what the hell? Was I out of my mind? I had to work with this man! He was my closest workmate. The person with whom I spent the bulk of every day.
I clutched at my rumpled shirt, gaping half open, the top button uselessly hanging on the slightest hint of a thread. Alex turned back to me, something black in his gaze. I opened my mouth, brain grasping for any words that would make all of this go away. What had I been thinking? Was I completely out of my mind?
"Don't…" Alex held up a hand and then dropped it. "Don't look at me like that." The words were low, aching with emptiness. He flinched at the same time as I realized those were the same words that had started all this. The look, however, couldn't have been the same. "Don't tell me you're sorry, Charlie."
My mouth worked silently, because the only thing that wanted to come out was that very thing. "I don't…I'm…"
I let the words trail off. I couldn't say anything else. I was the worst kind of fool. Where was the self-control on which I prided myself? Where was the order and reason? In my entire life, even during my ten-year relationship with Jared, I most certainly wouldn't have come remotely close to getting naked on company time and banging on company property. Seriously. What. The. Hell?
"I have wanted that from the moment you walked off that plane after Phillip died." Alex's voice was rough, scratchy.
The words sent another hot wash of lust ripping through my body. Alex was so dangerous. I should have listened to the warnings my brain gave me. Right from that same first moment, when my body had stood up and said hello when he showed up at the airport to greet me.
"I won't be sorry. I won't."
I spent another useless moment struggling to find words that meant anything. I was sorry, and I couldn't help but be. This would go nowhere. We still had to work together. I still planned to leave Hawaii the instant that my transfer came through. He would have been wise to be sorry. I was so very sorry.
He shook his head, disdain clear in every inch of his tight face. Whether it was for me, himself, or merely for the situation, I really couldn't say. I swallowed against the lump lodged hard in my throat. If only I'd controlled myself. Why did it have to be so disastrous, the one time that I couldn't?
He turned and walked away without looking back, leaving the door hanging open behind him. I pressed my hand against my useless mouth, surveying the damage that was my office. Papers were everywhere. My keyboard was on the floor. A coffee cup was spilled—thank goodness it had been mostly empty. A stapler, my phone, several ledgers, all of it spread on the carpet. I hadn't even cared. I leaned over and rescued a potted plant. Since I knew it was a mistake, and I truly believed it, why did every atom of my being long to run after him now?
CHAPTER EIGHT
Somehow, I made it through dinner with Alex by my side and didn't do or say anything that made it more awkward. Not that it mattered. It was insanely awkward without any additional contribution on my part.
I was beyond ashamed of myself, and looking Alex in the eye was impossible, and not just because he was wearing that stupid hat again. I should have controlled myself. I knew better. I knew. And I'd slipped anyway. In such a major way.
After dinner was over and we were taking care of details, Alex grabbed my arm to still me, sending goose bumps skittering across my skin. "We need to talk," he said, his voice low and husky.
Another shudder tore through me. "I think that's the worst possible idea," I whispered back. The last time we'd needed to talk we'd ended up making out on a desk. Talking alone to Alex was the first step to slipping up again. I knew that one now from firsthand experience. I'd wanted Alex before we'd met in my office. Now it was burning under my skin and still just as inappropriate.
He cocked his head to the side, trying to get a good look in my eyes, when I was trying very hard to not meet his. "We can't keep sidestepping this, Charlie. You and I have been ignoring this for six months."
I made the mistake of meeting his eyes, and there was no question that my inhale was a gasp and my exhale sounded very much like a moan. "Yes, we can. I'm sorry. I just…I lost it for a second. We're not ever talking about this."
He sighed. "You want me, Charlie, and I want you. How long can you pretend it doesn't exist?"
The words were like a shocking caress, and they tore right through me. If I had defenses at all against Alex, they sucked. I wasn't sure I had any real ones though. "Forever," I hissed. "We need to work." The only thing to do was get attention back to the right place. I needed it to be about work to keep my sanity.
"Life can't be nothing but work," he argued quietly.
"Yes," I said, much louder and firmer. "It can."
I turned and left the room and was incredibly thankful that he didn't try to follow me. I presented a strong front, but the truth was, he was right. I wanted him. The only thing keeping me in check at all was the flimsy knowledge that relationships at work were a terrible idea and that I was gone the second an opportunity came. He was an almost irresistible temptation, and I just needed to stay away from him. I had Christmas to get through and Mallory to think about. I didn't need another complication. Alex was an ocean of trouble, and if I opened up to him at all, he would flood in and drown me.
I waited until all the work was done and went looking for Autumn. During the Christmas festivities, she was here every night, taking commemorative photos for the guests to remember their holiday season. It was good money for her, and for us, because people loved memories and wanted to come back when they saw the photos again down the line. I pulled her aside.
The first thing she did was lay a hand on my arm. "I'm so sorry about Mallory. I haven't had a chance to speak with you yet, but I know you'd known her a long time."
"Thanks." I cocked my head. "How'd you know that I'd known her a long time?"
She looked surprised by the question. "Well, she told me. She said your parents are friends."
"That's true." Autumn was a better resource than I might have expected. I wasn't aware they'd known each other so well. "We're looking for other people who might have known Mallory. Especially people she might have gone surfing with. Or a man she might have dated."
Autumn unzipped a large portfolio, red hair sliding into her face as she reached down to sort through it. "I went through my pictures yesterday and found the ones that had Mallory in them. Just in case you wanted them or maybe her family, since I guess they probably came and got her body."
"Yes, my mother told me her funeral was in Chicago this morning." Under different circumstances, I would have flown there to attend, but days before Christmas, it was simply an impossibility.
She nodded, handing a pile of glossy 8-x-10 photographs my way. The pictures of Mallory left a dull ache in my chest. I pulled in a hard breath and sorted through them resolutely. Most of them were just Mallory, doing what she did best, talking, laughing, being young and alive. The unfairness of it all caught my air and trapped it for a long second until I forced it out on a shuddering sigh. Autumn flashed me a sympathetic glance, and I ignored her. I couldn't afford to be overcome by emotion. Now was not the time.
The seventh photograph was finally something I was interested in. Mallory standing on the beach, talking to two men. Both had their backs to the camera, but one was instantly recognizable as the overweight man from the beach. The one that Alex had called Mo. The other man seemed to be a stranger. He was fit though, his heavily muscled back a canvas for three largish tattoos. One was just a Celtic cross, which was easy to recognize. I couldn't make out the other two in a picture taken from such a distance. But there had to be a magnifying glass somewhere in this resort, and I was going to find it. Maybe Alex would be able to identify the man by his tattoos. Or maybe Autumn could.
"Do you know this man?" I tapped the back in question.
She shook her head. "I have three different pic
tures of her with him though. His back was always away from the road, but I'd stop to take coast pictures, and there she'd be with that guy every time. The other people tended to change."
So it seemed very likely to me that this was Mallory's elusive boyfriend, still very elusive. Although if I ever saw his back after this, I would know for certain it was him. She took the pile back and sorted through it, handing me the photo I'd been looking at and two others, both similar beach shots with several people caught in the lens. Each time two of those people were Mallory and her tattooed friend.
"Can I keep these?" I asked.
She nodded, handing me the whole pile, including the photos I couldn't stand to look at. I tucked them at the bottom of the pile, then thanked her and headed back to my office. It took some digging, but I found a large square magnifier buried at the bottom of one of my desk drawers and took a closer look at Mallory's friend and his back. Every picture was from a different angle, so I could take multiple looks at his tattoos.
One was the predicted Celtic cross. One was some kind of flower, which I thought was odd. It didn't look like a hibiscus, which was the state flower of Hawaii, and that would make a little sense, I supposed. This looked like something else, though I had no clue what. The last was some kind of symbol, maybe Chinese, maybe Japanese or Korean. I wasn't sure. I knew who would know, but there was no chance I was calling him into my office. I was going to do everything in my power to avoid being alone with Alex Cho ever again.
I scooped up the pictures and the magnifier and headed back to the lobby. Alex was talking to some guests, filling Phillip's massive Christmas shoes quite nicely. It really was better to just let him do the schmoozing. Especially when the matter was the holidays. Not that I would ever have another Aloha Lagoon Christmas. I waited until their conversation was finished and the family headed outside, presumably to watch the fire-eaters, before approaching.
He looked up from the papers in his hand, and his gaze burned as I crossed the room. It was almost unbearable just having him watch me walk. Cocking one eyebrow, he waited for me to speak. "I got these photos from Autumn. These were taken of Mallory in the last few weeks. Three of the photos have this man in them. I don't suppose you'd recognize another man's back?"
He glanced at the pictures, brow pulling together. "No, but those tattoos are interesting. Do you have a bigger picture?"
I handed him the magnifier, cautious to make sure we didn't accidentally touch each other in any way. I knew my strengths, no question. I knew what I was good at. But I also knew where I was weak, where I would cave if given the slightest chance. And Alex was weakness number one in my book. I'd done fine resisting my feelings when we were adversaries. Now…now I wasn't doing fine.
He cocked his head and studied the photos for a long time, while the staff cleaned up around us. "Well, the cross is easy to recognize. One in every five guys in college had one like it or similar. The rest…I'm not sure."
"Do you recognize the character?" I pointed to the Asian tattoo.
"Well, it's not Korean."
"Do you read Korean?" I was insatiably curious, now that I'd let him in a little. Everything about him would be catnip to me if I wasn't very, very careful.
He shrugged. "Some. But I just know it isn't because of the way it looks. Here." He moved a foot or so to the bar and flipped over a napkin, pulling a pen from his pocket. "If we take symbols everyone wants on their wall or whatever, like peace or love, you'll see what I mean."
He drew something quickly, in small, careful strokes, then pushed the napkin across the counter in my direction. "Here are the Korean symbols for love and happiness. Do you see the circles at the bottom of each?"
I nodded. Both characters were resting on a circle shape, and happiness had two circles. He grabbed the napkin back and sketched again. "I just know these from Asian class. My parents made me take it every year. There were a ton of Chinese and Japanese kids in there, because there's a lot in Hawaii, so we all got to learn a bit of each language. Here's love in Chinese and Japanese. They're practically identical."
I noticed he was right. The only difference between them was a few small marks in the middle of the character. "They do look different from Korean. You're right."
He nodded. "Whenever you see circles or ovals, you are looking at some other language than Chinese, for sure. I'm thinking this character is in traditional Chinese, though I'm not sure what it says. Give me a minute to try to figure it out."
He spent long, silent minutes flipping through an app on his phone. My phone rang, and I saw it was my mother on the other end. Now that my parents were back together again after their last divorce two weeks after my would-be wedding, Mom was always happy and usually a delight to talk to, but now wasn't a good time. It was possible it was about Mallory's funeral or something though, so I answered.
"Why didn't you tell me you have a boyfriend?"
She didn't even say hello. Who led with an introduction like that?
"I don't."
Alex glanced up at me, looking mildly curious. There was no way I was letting him be privy to this conversation. Because I knew exactly who my mom was talking about and exactly who had delivered this information her way. I covered the mouthpiece. "Will you excuse me?"
He nodded slightly, watching me as I ducked into the nearest available empty room, a filing room behind the concierge desk. "Mom, I don't know what Georgie told you in your nightly call, but I definitely do not have a boyfriend."
She sounded skeptical. "What about this Alex man Georgie told me about?"
Restraining a sigh, I propped the phone between my ear and shoulder, peeping out of the room to make sure no one was getting close. "Alex is my coworker. That's all. Regardless of what Georgie says."
She was silent for a long, disapproving, second. "Georgie says he's very handsome."
I shut my eyes, praying for patience. "He is. But that doesn't change the fact he's my coworker, making it highly inappropriate to even consider a relationship. He's not my boyfriend."
She sighed, finally electing, thank all of heaven above, to abandon questions about Alex. "Georgie says you gave her a job."
She sounded almost critical, which I certainly wouldn't have expected. If I'd given it thought, I would have anticipated that she would be unhappy if I didn't give Georgie a job.
"Yes, I did. Is that wrong?" I wanted to cut to the chase and get back to the pictures and any clues they might provide.
"No, I suppose not. Why isn't she working for the cruise lines anymore?"
I paused. "She didn't tell you?" I'd assumed that whatever her problem with Marty was, she'd shared it with our mother, the person she dumped all her personal information on.
"No. I just don't understand it. She's been working there for years."
I didn't understand it either, and I was mildly curious, which was another sign that I was starting to forgive Georgie, despite myself. "All she told me is that she was having problems with some guy named Marty."
"Marty?" she repeated incredulously. "Martin Gentry Marty? That Marty?"
"I have no idea."
My brain worked. Martin Gentry. I kept abreast of everything that happened in the hospitality industry. I knew about the Gentrys. Gentry Cruise and Leisure was merely one branch of the massive Gentry hospitality empire. The Gentrys: older parents, Martin and Cecelia; a single living matriarch, Martin's mother, Felicia; two sons, Martin and Davis; and a daughter, Eugenia. All were part of that small contingency of America's ultra elite. Their worth was something akin to the people they'd built their empire with, the Rothschilds, the Carnegies, the Hearsts, and the Rockefellers. If someone broke their worth down into the amount each of their small family was worth, I guessed it was somewhere around tens of millions a person.
Whether the Martin Gentry that Georgie worked for was the senior or junior, there was little doubt that they would have ruled over the ship Georgie had worked on. That probably meant he got away with some pretty questionable stuf
f if he wanted, and there was no one to call him on it. No wonder she'd felt like she had no choice but to run.
"All she said was that she was having issues with Marty and she had to leave her job."
"Now, I just don't get that at all." Mom sounded truly distraught, and I was confused about her allegiance to a job that Georgie had probably left for a very good reason.
"Maybe he was sexually harassing her, Mom. Or trying to make her do something illegal or morally reprehensible."
"No way," Mom immediately shot back, like I was talking about her favorite person in the world. "Marty would never do something like that. And what's more, I suspect you don't know this, because you've been ignoring Georgie for years, but Martin Gentry and Georgie are best friends. And I mean true best friends. Thick as thieves."
Thick as thieves? Who said that outside of a regency-period drama? "Mom, have you been into the Pride and Prejudice stash again?"
"I'm serious," she huffed. "They are very close. Like 'spend every waking moment together for years' close. They must have fought about something, but he definitely didn't do anything to hurt her. I would stake my life on it."
"Do you know this man?" If I sounded skeptical, I couldn't help it. Mom always sided with the man in a relationship, as though the possession of testosterone and testicles automatically made him right.
"Actually, yes, I do. I've met him several times."
Okay, that was a surprise. If Georgie had been bringing him around for years, that meant two things: they weren't having raunchy sex or she wouldn't have brought him home, and they probably really were best friends. Georgie wouldn't travel with someone she didn't like. She was perfectly content hopping on a plane by herself and seeking out the wilds of the world without anyone to keep her company. If she elected to invite company, it was because she enjoyed being with Marty Gentry. So if that was true, what had happened to drive her away?
It didn't matter. I didn't have time for one more mystery. I had enough on my plate already. Georgie and her BFF would just have to sort out their own problems. "Ask her, Mom. She hasn't told me anything."
Mele Kalikimaka Murder Page 12
