True Abandon

by Jeannine Colette

  With a fierce look in my eyes, I get on my bike determined to make it onto the road first. If I’m totally honest, Jax let me in front, and the thought has me laughing.

  We spend the morning talking. At the fourth lookout, I tell him about my college years, and he finds my musings about living with three other girls, amusing.

  “Why did you call yourselves the Goldens?” He removes his helmet and unzips his sweatshirt.

  “Because we were each a character from the Golden Girls. Nickie was a total ditz, so we called her Rose. Her first week of freshman year we found her tapping her finger on a keg. When we asked what she was doing she said someone told her she has to tap the keg if she wanted beer—she took that way too literally.”

  “Who was Blanch?”

  “That would be Kelli. You met her at the bonfire. She’s a tad promiscuous. And the Sofia of our group was our friend Tara. She’s the quiet one who doesn’t say much and then pops into the conversation with these crazy one-liners. It doesn’t help she’s four-foot eight and wears glasses bigger than her head. Though, she’s a total hipster and makes it work.”

  He’s leaning against the railing, his body facing mine. “I guess that makes you Dorothy.”

  “I’m the critical one of the group.”

  “She also knows how to party.”

  I tap my finger on his nose. “This is true. That’s why I’m the perfect Dorothy. Straight laced, but I know how to have fun with my girls.

  “You speak highly of yourself.” His ankles cross, and he settles back appraising me. “You’re underestimating one thing.”

  I quirk a brow in interest.

  The side of his mouth rises in an impish grin. “Your legs are too killer to hide in a pant suit.”

  It’s impossible to hide the red in my cheeks. I don’t have a mirror, but the heat and the way his eyes linger on my thighs has me wishing I had ice water.

  “Okay, Stan.” He grins at my reference to Dorothy’s ex-husband.

  “What ever happened with that guy you were dating?” His question catches me off guard. “The one who called you the night of the storm.”

  There’s a small, yellow bird sitting on a nearby tree. I watch it peck at a piece of branch, and I answer him nonchalantly, “Kevin wasn’t too thrilled when I told him I was moving five-thousand miles across the country.”

  “Do you regret it?”

  I turn around with a tilted head.

  He continues, “You said I’m the reason you walk away from relationships.”

  A couple of bikers pass by—a tour group of about eight. I watch them zip down the mountain and passed us as I think about my last relationship.

  “Kevin and I met at work. It’s easy to fall for someone when you’re with them every day. He is really funny and compassionate. He’s the type of guy who, if you needed him, he was right there. I was very dependent on him in some ways yet closed off in others. Like, if I felt lonely or scared, I called him. But when he wanted things like me to move in with him I panicked and avoided the conversation.” I bite my lip and look down at my Keds. “I blamed you, but the truth is after two years I should have wanted to take those steps with him. With or without you in my past, I should have wanted to be with him. I didn’t—so I ended it.”

  “Two years is a long time.”

  I look back up. “Yea. But like you said yesterday, you can know someone for two years, but it only takes a moment to determine if your souls connect.”

  He raises that brow I love, and I find myself saying, “Next stop you get to tell me the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done.”

  He doesn’t argue. At the fifth stop, he tells me how he lost a bet and had to go on stage in nothing but a pair of women’s underwear…with his junk falling out the side. The embarrassing part was Ella had surprised him by coming to see the show.

  “At least you had your guitar to cover yourself,” I offer.

  “Except I didn’t realize she was in the audience until after the show. I kinda played the part of the extrovert. The last thing I want is for my sister to see my bare ass as I let my drummer give it a whack with a stick as I read aloud lines from Fifty Shades of Grey.”

  “I’m sure you put her Christian Grey fantasies to bed with that one.”

  He cringes and makes a face like he’s gagging. “And now I’m picturing my sister in bed with Christian Grey.”

  I couldn’t help my giggle. With each stop, we talked about just about everything. His favorite author, John Grisham, and mine, Nora Roberts and our mutual favorite food is a cheeseburger with cheddar.

  He loves guitar driven music, the Discovery Channel, green Jolly Ranchers, and sex. While I adore 48 Hours, drinks with friends, dark chocolate, and (fine, I give in) sex.

  I laugh at the fact he dislikes disco balls and mayonnaise. He finds it amusing I’m not a fan of words that start with the letter Q. He proves it by shouting as many of them as we head down the hill to the final stop. And damn him and his knowledge of the English vocabulary because he knows many obscure ones.

  “Quagga, quahog, quarks, quaffed.”

  “What the heck is a quahog?” I ask when we get to the base.

  “A large, rounded clam.”

  “Who knows that?”

  He puts his shoulders back and puffs out his chest. “Me. I do.”

  I push him in his over-confident chest and walk my bike to the attendant who waits to gather them at the bottom.

  We’re about to board the van when I look back toward the canyon. “I’ve booked this tour a hundred times for guests but have never come. Thank you for suggesting it.”

  “I just wanted to see the sunrise with you. Thank you for suggesting this.”

  I pull on the strands of my braid, my fingers feeling every bump on the way down. “Why the sun rise?”

  He lets out a breath and looks at his feet for a moment before staring into the horizon. “A new beginning. It felt right. It feels right.”

  He’s right—it does.

  We hop into the van and start the drive back to the Kauai Princess. He takes his phone and I glance at the screen. He has several missed calls from Dexter, his former manager and various other names I don’t know – many of them female.

  As awesome as today has been, it’s only a day in the life. Jax has an entire life that doesn’t involve me. He has family, friends, his job and a home.

  In two days, he’ll be gone.

  I turn and face the window. My heart is in the van, but my mind is wandering elsewhere. I spent so long not surviving because of him. Now, I pray I’ll be able to move forward when he leaves me for the second time in my life.

  Jax taps my shoulder and holds his phone toward me. I look at the screen and see he’s pulled up an episode of the Golden Girls. He places his arm around my shoulder and pulls me in. My shoulder nestles into the crook of his arm as my head falls against his chest. And with my palm pressed against his heart, I settle into the most comfortable spot in the world.

  We spend the drive watching the where the girls got mistakenly arrested for being prostitutes. His warm chuckle vibrates in his chest when Sofia walks into the jailhouse and utters a line about how dumb the cops are to think people would actually pay to sleep with Blanche, Rose, and Dorothy.

  With every hum, I feel more peaceful.

  With every inch, he pulls me into him, I feel more grounded.

  And when he leans down and kisses the top of my head, I feel more at pace in the present that I’m forgetting about the past.

  Chapter NINETEEN

  “Where the hell did you run off to so early?”

  Kelli’s appearance on our sofa scares the shit out of me.

  “Why aren’t you at work?” I ask as I drop my phone and keys on the table by the door.

  She rises from the couch still in her pajamas. She still has on yesterday’s makeup, and the mascara is smudged around her eyes making her look like a sad clown. “I have the day off. Why are you dressed like you have the day o
ff, too?”

  I unzip my sweatshirt and throw it over the couch. “I went for a bike ride.” When I’m in the kitchen, I open the refrigerator door and add, “with Jax.”

  “The plan is in motion.”

  Taking a bottle of water out, I twist the lid and take a sip. “What plan?”

  “The payback plan.”

  I close the fridge and shake my head. “There is no revenge plot.”

  Her mouth cringes in disgust. “For ten years you’ve complained how that man has ruined your life, and now he’s back for, what, three days—”

  “Six,” I correct.

  “Six!” She takes ten marching steps toward me and stops a foot away from my face. “He’s been here for six days, and you haven’t utterly destroyed him?”

  “Well, I tried at first, but things changed.”

  She points an accusing finger at my nose. “He’s manipulating you.” Her jaw is clenched as she shakes her head in disgust. “You let him get into your heart again. Don’t fall for it.”

  I move her finger away from her face. “Why are you so hell bent on me hurting Jax?”

  “You owe this to every girl who has ever been damaged. Men,” she crosses her arms in front of her chest, holding herself in, “are all the same. They use women and then just cast them aside. Someone needs to teach them a lesson.”

  There’s something in the way she clutches the fabric of her t-shirt and bites the inside of her lip that seems oddly familiar. For years I’ve been so focused on myself, on my own pain, that I never really looked at Kelli. At this beautiful girl with a vibrant personality who gives herself so freely to pretty much anyone who pays her attention. She’s always been so in-tune with what I was feeling, I never realized that she, too, was fighting her own demons.

  “Who hurt you?” My voice is soft, but from the way her dark eyes shoot up toward mine, you’d think I screamed at her.

  “What girl hasn’t been hurt by a guy?”

  “Many,” I answer. Just from talking with Lani about her love for life and boys, I know she’s never in her life been traumatized by a man. Or my mom. She is the most accepting person in the world, and that comes from her love of my dad. Hell, I can probably think of ten more if I went through the strong women who have come into my life. And even if they were hurt, they didn’t let it eat at them all these years.

  Auli’i’s words about forgiveness echo in my ear. When you forgive others, you forgive yourself.

  “Kelli, we can’t go on like this. Everything happens in our minds. We get stuck in this vicious loop of hate that we can’t move past, but we’re responsible for how we feel. We’re responsible for how we let the world affect us. If we let the bad overcome our souls, then we’ll never be truly good.”

  Her eyes are glazed over. There’s disobedience in her stance. She’s not truly ready for forgiveness.

  “Roland fired me,” she lets go of her arms and holds them out. “Happy? You told me not to sleep with people I work with, and you were right. He said I was a whore and couldn’t let someone of my caliber work at his hotel.”

  I step forward and try to hug her, but she pulls away.

  “Why can men sleep around but when women do they’re trash?” she asks, but I honestly don’t know the answer. “It happened to me before. Right before you moved to Connecticut. I was the school piranha. Sleep with one jock your freshman year, and you’re labeled loose and ready by the entire school.”

  My shoulders fall. “I didn’t know that. Well, I did, but I thought that was the reputation you wanted, not what was given. We’re not the labels other give to us.”

  She wipes a tear that has fallen from her eye. Despite the emotion, she holds her head high. “I know that. That’s why I’m the warrior. I do what I want with who I want. Who cares what they think?”

  By her performed defiance, it’s obvious to see she cares what others think—a lot.

  “You’re more than what some loser called you in high school. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. If it wasn’t for you, I don’t know how I would have survived those years after Jax.”

  “That’s why I don’t understand how you could be hanging out with him the way you are.”

  I take a deep breath and walk toward her again. This time, she lets me put my hand on her arm. “I know you don’t understand, but I need you to be on my side on this one. I’m trying to heal. This is a good thing. I promise you.”

  She wipes her cheeks again and gives her shoulders a shake. “Gah, whatever. Fine, come here.” She motions her hands for me to give her a hug. “This all so melodramatic.”

  I practically jump into her embrace. We’re doing a dance-like hug then she pulls away and says, “What the hell am I going to do now? I need to start looking for a new job.”

  A wild thought pops into my head. “Actually. I have a crazy job for you. It’s a private appointment, and you have to let me pay you.”

  She shifts on her hip. “How crazy?”

  I walk to the door and grab my keys. “Get your shoes. We’re going shopping.”

  …

  “You’re blonde!”

  “Surprise,” I hold up my hands toward Eric as I take my seat at the Birds of Paradise restaurant.

  Kelli spent the entire day stripping and coloring my hair. Somewhere around the time my head was a faint color of orange, I panicked, but she assured me it would look stunning when she was through.

  She wasn’t lying. All that training at Manhattan salons paid off—my best friend is one hell of a hair stylist.

  “At first I was trying to figure out why this strange woman was walking up to the table and then I realized it was you.” He reaches for his napkin and puts it on his lap. “Now you can answer the age-old question. Do blondes have more fun?”

  I shrug while placing my napkin on my lap.

  Kal approaches the table and addresses us with the daily specials. He tallies off the market price of the oysters, the fish of the day, the soup du jour, and lists three entrees all while I stare at him, waiting to see if he notices me.

  When he’s done, he takes out his ordering pad. With a wide smile, I stare at him and wait for him to notice—

  “Oh snap. What did you do to your hair?” Kal’s brows are practically in his hairline with surprise.

  I laugh at his response. “Kelli did it.”

  Kal puts his fist up against his chin and takes a step back. “You look good—really good. It’s like you were meant to be melemele,” he says and then corrects himself when he sees my confused expression. “It means blonde.”

  “Well, thank you,” I give a head bow. “Your compliment means a lot.”

  It’s at this moment Kal notices the man sitting across the table from me, and I take the opportunity to introduce them.

  “Kal, this is Eric Duvane. He’s staying in the Maui suite. Eric, this is my friend, Kal.”

  Eric extends a hand to Kal who looks at it for too long before taking it.

  “Another single guy staying in one of the presidential suites.” Kal beads his eyes toward Eric. “You don’t happen to also be an old friend of Trish’s?”

  Eric shakes his hand and looks at me for clarification.

  I wave him off. “Never mind that. Kal, I’ll have the cheeseburger with avocado and cheddar.”

  Eric leans an elbow on the table. “You can order anything you want. Why don’t you have the tuna special? It sounded great.”

  I close my menu and hand it to Kal. “Like I said, I’ll have the cheeseburger.”

  Eric orders the halibut and a bottle of wine. Kale leaves to get our drinks.

  Our table is near the back, overlooking the bay. It’s dark out so I can’t see the water or the surrounding mountains, but I can hear the waves moving steadily along the shore. A light, crashing sound of the surf and the faint smell of salt provides a reminder of its existence.

  When I turn back toward the table, it’s to Eric’s keen attention. He’s wearing a navy-blue suit with an open collare
d white shirt. He looks handsome and with his dark skin and clear-blue eyes—he is every woman’s dream date.

  I give a closed mouth smile. “You want to go over some ideas for your event?”

  He jolts a little like he wasn’t expecting me to bring up what we came here for.

  “I told my boss about your idea, and he loved it. We ran it through the Event Coordinator—don’t worry, I protected your name.” He gives a boy scouts sign of promise and adds, “and it’s a done deal.”

  “That’s great. Let’s start brainstorming. Why did you choose Hawaii for this party?”

  “Our artist, Noah Kanë, is from Kauai. We discovered him in a bar in the West Village. Is that where you lived in New York?”

  “I was in Alphabet City. What was it about Noah that caught your attention?”

  Eric shifts in his seat. “His sound. He has this earthy vibe, and he sings with so much heart, it can only come from where he was raised. Were you born and raised in New York?”

  “Virginia.” I draw him back to our original conversation. “It’s a great idea bringing him back to where he’s from for his coming out party.”

  “A compliment coming from a beautiful woman is more than a man could ask for.” He raises his glass in cheers.

  I clink my water and gulp it down. The booth feels awfully narrow. I push on it a little.

  Kal brings our dinner out rather quickly. He doesn’t even try to hide the stink-eye he gives Eric as he plops his plate down in front of him. With a tilted chin and the widening of my eyes, I tell him to cut it out.

  When he’s gone, I play wit the napkin on my lap and then adjust my outfit, pulling the bottom hem down. It’s a checkered print, halter dress that falls mid-thigh.

  “Do you two have a thing?” Eric asks.

  I flinch my head back slightly. Eric’s eyes flicker toward the bar where Kal stares at us with Isaiah on the other side sharpening a knife.

  I reach for my burger. “My friends need to stop being so concerned about who I spend my time with.”

  “You’ve made quite the life here. Do you have plans to head back to New York?” Eric asks.