HIGH TIDE

by Miller, Maureen A.

  There were tiny blue smudges beneath Kathy’s pale eyes that made Naoki believe that no one was exempt from the scrutiny last night. But it was over.

  Over.

  That word conjured up an image of Joy’s limp body as he caught a glimpse of it being loaded into the Coroner’s van. There was a mutinous stab of guilt that he should have known what she was hiding, that he could have prevented her demise, but it was a futile, tortured notion. He didn’t know Joy at all.

  “Bree’s going to be exhausted by the end of the day.”

  Naoki jarred from his reverie. “Maybe, but this Open House ceremony is something she’s worked at for a long time. It’s not just the party—it’s the fact that anyone who is anyone is going to be here today.” He enumerated. “The Governor, the press, and most importantly to Bree, Moku Land Inc.’s CEO will be here from the mainland. This is her moment to shine—”

  He yanked his glasses off and searched the cul-de-sac.

  “She’s an amazing woman.” Kathy whispered reverently.

  Naoki dropped the frames back down on his nose and smiled.

  “Don’t worry, she’ll teach us everything. And someday Miss Bishop, you and I will be standing on our own lot, hosting the elite of Honolulu.”

  Soft pink lips lifted, brightening Kathy’s face. In that instant, Naoki came to the startling conclusion that she was beautiful.

  Instead of admitting that, though, he dredged up his business facade. “Now, let me get that cooler.” He stooped to wrap his arms around the bulky container.

  “No, I’ll get it—” Kathy crouched down and smacked her forehead against his shoulder.

  “Are you okay?” Instantly, he reached for her arms as they rose together.

  Naoki searched the luminous pools of Kathy’s eyes as he maintained his grip on her arms. Ever so gently, his fingers traced along flesh warmed by the sun, until without thought he reached for her waist.

  “Kathy,” he whispered.

  “Naoki,” she murmured.

  From deep in his shirt pocket the shrill ring of the Tarantella erupted. The sound jolted them apart. Naoki fumbled for the blaring device, ready to hurl it into the fountain and watch the water flood its cellular brain.

  “Yeah?” he barked.

  “Grandson. I thought we talked about your conduct on the phone.”

  His shoulders slumped. That’s it. He would never have a normal life. His personal existence simply did not fit into Keito Takanawa’s schedule.

  “I’m busy.” Striving not to sound desperate, and trying to maintain composure in front of the large eyes that traced his face, Naoki cleared his throat. “Today’s the Open House, you know.”

  “Of course I know, and you two were up with that whole mess way too late last night. Couldn’t you have postponed this party?”

  “The Governor is coming—you don’t reschedule the Governor.” To his horror Kathy chuckled behind her hand. Naoki felt the blood rise up his neck.

  “I need you to pick up my checks. They’re waiting for me at the bank. And while you’re there, pick up a handful of those—deposit slips—and—”

  “Grandmother, I have to go.”

  “You don’t have a few minutes in your busy schedule to spend time talking to me?”

  Naoki responded to that admonishing tone as he always did, with a sigh and a smile from the heart. “Of course I do. I’ll probably get a break around lunch—I’ll pick them up then.”

  Naoki searched Kathy’s eyes, and with a slight lift of his brow offered a silent invitation for her to join him. Her timid smile and quick nod made his stomach flip.

  ***

  A pen behind her ear and another poised in her hand, Briana balanced a clipboard, a stack of brochures, and a plastic bag of Styrofoam cups all in one arm. Desperate, she sought out the closest folding table and dropped the collection. Because her watch had spun completely around her wrist, Briana angled her arm awkwardly to look at the time. She blew a puff of air up at bangs that tumbled loose from the clip which contained her hair in a loose knot.

  Scanning the grounds of Manale Palms, she was amazed to have pulled it off. Rows of white foldout chairs sat before an elevated podium, its base decorated with silk flowers, a donation from the shop owner in Pearl City. Atop the platform stood a pedestal flanked on both sides by miniature potted coconut palms, their gentle arcs subliminally directing the audience to the speaker. Beyond the podium, at intervals along the winding sidewalk, sat kiosks loaded with brochures, promotional items and blueprints of the Kona venture.

  Standing before one of these booths, Briana watched the stream of cars pull into the guest parking lot. Some ventured down the paved road deep into the heart of the complex for a quick visual tour.

  Turning around to search for any sign of Nick, she craved that final bolt of confidence that only he could provide. There were a couple familiar faces strolling along the walkway and milling in groups near the model, but none bore his distinct, rugged frame.

  To stand here and assimilate the events of last night would make her head spin when she could not afford such an imbalance. Despite mutual protests, Nick was pried away from her, the police preferring individual debriefings. Once the USGS cornered Nick, she could find no way to infiltrate their stockade, and by the time everyone was cleared to go, the Pali was tinged with the pink hue of a new dawn. There was just enough time to catch a shower and make it back here to set everything up.

  She missed him.

  It was such an overpowering sensation. This need to be with Nick was so intense that it undermined her concentration. She didn’t know whether to be elated at the emotion or skeptical at the loss of control.

  There was little time for analysis though as she observed Moku Land Inc.’s black Lincoln pull into the lot. She recognized the white-haired man emerging from the back seat as the CEO, the single person who could make or break her career. Quickly, she grabbed a brochure to occupy her hands, and conceal the fact that they shook.

  ***

  For several minutes he lingered back amidst the trees and simply indulged in watching her. Briana sought professionalism in her ensemble, but Nick thought she looked sexy as hell. Dressed in a tapered russet skirt with a fawn-colored sleeveless blouse, her hair was restrained in a soft flip at the base of her neck, yet the strands were too silky to be confined and slipped loose to dust across blushed cheeks.

  Nick winced at the ferocity with which she clutched the brochure in her hand. There was obvious tension in her stance, but the bright smile was genuine as she greeted guests and associates. That smile made his own lips curl up as he started towards her.

  ***

  “Thirty-five lots are going in at Kona. Eighteen of them have already been sold. The landscaping costs are going to be phenomenal. We basically had to carve the property out of a lava bed, but in the end it will be worth it.”

  “Then how are you going to manage to keep the pricing down for locals if there are such exorbitant development costs?”

  Warily studying the approach of Walter Davis, the CEO as he paused to shake hands with members of the Community Development Authority, Briana returned her focus to the robust woman from the Star-Advertiser that was firing off questions.

  “Just as in the case of Manale Palms, the land was acquired in auction, and was so economical that any additional costs simply offset the initial savings. The lots will come in very close to these in price—” Her back went rigid. Briana felt him behind her. There was no contact, no sound, but she knew Nick was there, and her body trembled in response.

  “But—” The realtor with the plunging neckline continued to chatter, yet the words were only distant echoes. What Briana did hear was the husky whisper against her ear, “I want you.”

  “Excuse me?” Briana forced herself to concentrate on the woman before her. “Oh, great, yes I can definitely arrange for you to visit the property on the Big Island. Thank you Ms. Brown, thank you for stopping by today.”

  Briana watched t
he stout woman in unnaturally high pumps shuffle off, but still she did not turn around. She felt Nick’s hands slip about her waist and willingly settled back against him.

  “God, you feel good.” He breathed against the flesh at the base of her neck. His lips brushed rhythmically across the sensitive skin as she trembled.

  “Nick.”

  “I know.” He raised his head. “You’re not going to appear too professional with me ravaging you in front of a group of dignitaries.”

  “No,” Briana breathed, picturing the image. “I want you too.”

  Nick growled and Briana felt him hard behind her.

  “Mr. Davis, how are you, sir?” Was that high-pitched voice really hers?

  “Briana.” The extended hand was tan and bore several gold rings along with an engraved bracelet. “Excellent job. The Palms looks wonderful. Thank God you cleared up that mess with the fish.”

  The CEO’s incisive blue eyes searched past her shoulder, and the hand thrust forward again. “Good morning. Walter Davis. I don’t think we’ve met—”

  ***

  Nick returned the grip with a firm shake, trying to disregard the fact that Briana’s perfect bottom was still nestled against him. “Nick McCord.”

  As if it were his place to know everyone that was here today, Walter Davis nodded in calculation. “Ah yes, USGS. I understand we are indebted to you, sir.”

  With a bracing breath, Nick felt it was safe to step out from behind Briana. “If there is anyone here for you to be indebted to, it would be Ms. Holt.”

  The old man’s response was a swift heft of a white eyebrow, and then a renewed perusal of Briana. “Is that so?”

  “The USGS has already given Manale Palms a commendation for the well-structured seawall that protected this property. Not to mention Miss Holt’s personal involvement in the apprehension of a team of illegal offshore dredgers.”

  ***

  Listening to them, Briana’s gaze nonetheless drifted to the ocean. Today it was like a mellow turquoise lake—so innocent. It was not a black void filled with fire, bodies, and nightmares like last night. In the chaos of the explosion they had presumed that the lifeless figures in the water were indeed just that. Keo and Nick hauled the trawler’s crew onto the deck of the Inquiry and were able to resuscitate nearly every one of them.

  Only Joy didn’t make it.

  Briana’s head dipped down, and for just a heartbeat her composure waned. Itching to reach for the brochure, she instead flexed her fingers, raised her head and met Walter Davis’ dissecting stare.

  “Mr. McCord is being modest,” she injected. “If it were not for his presence and the use of the USGS research vessel we could have never stopped them. Ignorant in what they were working with, the amount of explosives they intended to use on the ocean floor could have incited a wave large enough to harm residents along the Windward Coast. We’re all very lucky, sir.”

  Impressed, but used to everything working out in his favor, Walter Davis inclined his head and noticed the posh white limousine pulling up to the sidewalk.

  “Yes, well, excellent work to both of you. Now Briana, the Governor is here, is everything ready?”

  “Yes sir. The sound crew has the microphones all wired on the podium, there’s going to be a live feed to KHAL.”

  “Excellent. Excellent publicity. Mr. McCord, it was a pleasure meeting you.”

  Nick took the offered hand again. “Likewise.”

  With a complacent smile, Walter Davis excused himself.

  “Your boss, I presume?”

  “Ummm, he’s a bit overbearing don’t you think?”

  “I think,” he reached out and touched her chin, “that you handled yourself with dignity and poise. And I think that when this day is over, no one is going to interrupt us, and we’re going to have a long talk.”

  Hands were waving her over towards the idle limousine, but Briana ignored them and focused exclusively on Nick. In dark dress slacks and a white long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up just below his elbows, he stole her breath. The collar was open to expose tanned flesh that she knew intimately, and his short chocolate hair ruffled in the breeze. It was the balmy brown eyes that drew her in, though, and the promise in them that made everything else irrelevant.

  With a slight pout, Briana grinned. “Only talk?”

  “Briana!” Naoki jogged up to them. “Hi Nick, hey Bree. Come on, it’s the Governor.”

  “Yes, of course, the Governor.” Briana’s eyes were still locked with Nick’s.

  With a suggestive smile he mouthed the word Go. Back-pedaling, while still holding his gaze, Briana grinned and felt that burst of confidence he infused her with.

  No matter what happened today, at the end—Nick would be waiting for her.

  ***

  Nick witnessed the transformation, the assurance in those vivid blue eyes, and the deeper emotion that was reserved wholly for him. He let out a low whistle of appreciation and tipped his head back to eye the crystal clear sky, praying for rain, snow, or anything that would hasten this day and put Briana in his arms again.

  After that brief assessment of the sky, Nick’s gaze dropped just beyond Briana’s shoulder and caught a glimpse of the figure emerging from the limousine. The Governor was already making minimal progress towards the podium, hampered along the way by the slick wheels of Hawaiian real estate. But it was the succeeding passenger that caught Nick’s attention.

  It played out in slow motion. Black stiletto heels extended from the open door, trailed by a pair of devastating legs in sheer pantyhose. When her head emerged and the long body sinuously came erect inside the open doorway, Nick’s suspicions were confirmed.

  Meleana.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Briana tried to concentrate on the speech, but her mind drifted as she searched the crowd waving brochures at their faces to battle the sun’s heat. Nowhere amidst this assemblage could she locate Nick. She envisioned him slipping down to the shore to ponder the pristine beach with an analytical eye. He probably stopped to test the mixture of mineral deposits in the sand and managed to soak the legs of those stylish black slacks that made him look so deliciously male.

  That was how she had found him a little over a week ago. It seemed ages ago now, but regardless of the moments on the clock it was enough time to realize that she was in love. Completely, totally, ready to toss aside her disciplined, worry about everyone else philosophy, in love with him.

  Briana crossed her legs and frowned in an attempt to concentrate on the Governor. She fidgeted and subconsciously tightened the clip on her hair.

  With his bronzed face, white teeth, and black hair tinged gray at the temples, Tom Hakino was a handsome man, and to the delight of many Hawaiian females, a bachelor. It appeared as if one of his devotees was in tow, the woman seated to his right, her head tipped up in appreciation of him. Adorned in a trendy hat that concealed her face from the sun, glossy black hair cast a natural flip over the shoulders of a silver satin blouse. Something struck Briana as familiar about the lavish female, but the thought was lost in her intent search for Nick. Surely she could escape from this ensemble for a few minutes to be with him.

  “And now I’d like to call on the person responsible for today—for Manale Palms—and for achieving affordable, alternative housing for native Hawaiians.”

  With a confident grin, Governor Hakino found Briana and extended his hand so that the mass of rapt faces swung in her direction.

  Damn.

  “Ms. Holt, would you please come up here?”

  Conscious of Kathy’s delighted giggle by her side, followed by a spontaneous clap, the rest of the ensemble quickly picked up on the applause and Briana was left with no recourse but to rise. She met Naoki’s bespectacled glance, enthusiastic and proud, and then noticed his arm draped affectionately across Kathy’s shoulder. It was that observation that made Brianna’s smile a little brighter and her tread more buoyant as she approached the podium and graciously shook the Gover
nor’s hand. She skewed another glance at the woman seated by his side, but the face was still cloaked behind the silver sunhat.

  Briana’s gaze swept the crowd of acquaintances and strangers to search for familiar smoky eyes, but the Governor had her by the elbow, prompting her towards the dais.

  “Thank you everyone for coming out here today.” Even the slight elevation of the platform made the breeze more pronounced. It felt refreshing against her cheeks, which were warm from the sun.

  Beyond the crowd, the fountain sparkled with brilliant prisms of water, while at its base the birds of paradise created a blanket of sunbursts. The model and its neighboring homes were perfectly landscaped, and today’s superb weather enhanced the greenery. She could easily envision the near future when children would be at play atop the verdant carpet, in what she considered a magical garden.

  Briana smiled as she heard her mother whisper, Good job, Little Orchid.

  ***

  Concealed within the stockade of coconut palms, Nick watched Briana ascend the podium. There he observed her brief spell of uncertainty, and that beatific smile that stole his breath. With her head held high, she directed the audience with confidence and poise. The knot at the base of her neck now leaked more strands of gold, casting prisms about her face. He moved out of the shade of the trees, fascinated by the rapt concentration Briana secured from the crowd. There was confidence in her speech, and he felt a keen sense of pride.

  Imagine, only a little over a week ago he was exhausted with the effort to provoke Briana—now he wanted nothing more than to praise her. What a drastic change his life was about to take. It was dizzying, but he had no reservations.

  Perhaps he took another step, or perhaps she just sensed his presence across the anonymous swarm, but Briana’s eyes locked on his over the crowd—and she was not about to let go. To the audience her smile was confident and composed. To Nick it was a sexy, promise targeted on him. He wasn’t too proud to gloat that this stunning creature wanted him. And he wasn’t too humble to be grateful.