“No, thank you,” I reply kindly, though I’d rather laugh and say, what I’m really thinking.
“Why don’t you ever go out? I feel like I ask you about once a week … you know … because of your sister and all, and you still turn us down. We’re all very friendly people, and it seems to me you could use a night to relax.”
I don’t think Talon is trying his flirting methods on me. I think he genuinely finds interest in my lack of enthusiasm to hang out with King Triton—the man he thinks he is. “I’m just not a party-goer. I prefer a comfortable couch and TV at night.”
“That’s hella boring, Kia. Let me show you that you’re wrong. You don’t have to be a ‘party-goer’ to have a fun time.”
“Lea is going?” I confirm.
“Obvi. These are her plans.”
“Mmm, yeah. I still don’t think so.”
“You’re coming,” Talon replies.
“No, I’m not,” I argue.
“Yes, you are,” he says, walking away, leaving me without the option to respond. I roll my eyes, for my sake only, and slouch back into my chair.
Chapter Three
Denver
“Wake up sleepyhead,” I whisper to Aya. “We’re here.” I run my fingertips through her hair and kiss her forehead. She wakes up slowly, looking confused for a minute.
“I slept through the whole flight?” she asks.
“The whole thirty minutes. Yes.” As we’re pulling up to the gate, I pull my phone on and click the Airplane Mode off.
“How come there’s Internet on the plane, but you can’t keep your phone on the Internet?” Aya asks, looking up at me with glossy, tired eyes. What seven-year-old cares this much about Internet? This generation can’t even fathom life without technology. It’s ridiculous.
“It’s all just a big silly plan to make sure people aren’t talking on their phones and annoying each other throughout the duration of the flight. People wouldn’t fly anymore if that were the case, you know?”
“Well, they do have phones though,” she points out.
“Yes, but those cost like ten dollars a minute or something.”
“Oh,” she says, sitting back into her seat.
I see a few messages pop up as my phone finds a Wi-Fi connection. It’s Noa, and I hope there isn’t an issue with our house. He set everything up for me since he’s already over here, but he’s been a little out of it lately. Some chick he’s been with has him wrapped around her finger, and his head has been in the clouds.
I open his messages, reading:
* * *
Noa: Dude, the people who were supposed to move out delayed their plans for a day. I’ve got it all under control though.
* * *
Shit. Where the hell is our stuff if the last tenants are still living there?
* * *
Me: That sucks, man. What’s the new plan? Where’s our stuff?
* * *
This isn’t the message I wanted to receive after being up since five, running all over Oahu this morning. Noa’s a good guy and has his shit together, but I think we have different ideas on having things under control. It’s different with a kid in tow.
By the time we’re deplaning and heading through the small airport, I’m getting annoyed that Noa hasn’t responded yet.
“Aloha,” a tourist teaser greets us with a orchid lei.
“Mahalo,” I respond, letting her know we’re not tourists and she doesn’t need to waste her flowers on us, but despite the number of flowers Aya is given on a weekly basis, she’s grinning from ear to ear waiting for her flower necklace.
“Mahalo,” she says once receiving the flowers.
“Come on, sweets. We need to get outside so I can call Noa. I won’t be able to hear him from in here.”
“Is something wrong?” she asks.
“Nah, just a change in plans. No need to worry.”
We step out into the taxi pickup area, and I give Noa a call. He better answer. We have nowhere to go and nothing with us except a bag for each of us.
Three long rings blare in my ear before I hear a click. “Mahalo, mannnn.”
“Did you get my text?” I ask before saying hello.
“Yeah, I was just responding to you. I had been conducting interviews this morning, so I was a bit tied up, but I’ve got you covered, bro. Wailea Royal has a room for you tonight, and everything should be all set for you at the house tomorrow.” Whatever. I guess it’s better than unpacking today. I could use a day to lounge at a pool and sip on some fruity drinks with umbrellas in my glass.
“Cool, cool. I appreciate everything you’ve done,” I tell him.
“Don’t mention it. Sorry about the house today. I don’t have much control there. I was just the middleman, but I do have good news on the job front.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
“The job is yours if you want it.”
“Aww, am I last choice after your interviews this morning?” I tease.
“No, I was waiting on you to get your ass over here.”
“Sweet. What’s the gig? And, thank you. It’s much appreciated.”
“It’s ah—it’s my new business I was telling you about,” he says.
“You didn’t tell me about a new business. You just said you had a possible opportunity for me.”
“Oh, right. Well, yeah, man, I opened a restaurant last year, and it’s booming. I got a waiter position open and I know it sounds like shit money, but most of my waiters are bringing in about four to five hundo a night.”
“Damn, count me in, bro. I bartended at a Fridays back in the day, so I have some experience. Plus, I’m kind of good at multi-tasking.”
“Scratching your balls while shooting targets isn’t considered multi-tasking,” he counters.
“You’re funny,” I tell him. I wave to a cab driver and wrap my arm around Aya to guide her in the right direction.
“I’ll meet you at the hotel in a bit, and we’ll go over more details then. Sound good?” he asks.
“I’ll see you then,” I tell him.
Aya and I slide into the back seat of the cab, and I buckle her seatbelt. “We’re heading to Wailea Royal,” I tell the driver.
He peels away from the curb without a response. My truck won’t be here until tomorrow since it was the first available transfer service I could get the thing onto this week. I couldn’t make any firm plans until a couple days ago since anything can change without a moment’s notice in the Marines. I guess being at a hotel isn’t the worst place to be without a vehicle. Of course, anywhere is better than staying in Oahu for another day, with or without a truck.
We arrive at the hotel, and I immediately feel out of place as I watch people coming and going in their upper-class attire—white linen pants and Tommy Bahama shit. Here I am in a pair of running shorts and a Nike tee. At least Aya fits the part. She’s dressed nicely thanks to Molli taking care of her this morning. We’re still clashing on our differentiating thoughts on appropriate apparel, but I assume this will get a lot worse before it gets better.
Check in is simple, ending with a quick mention of my name in exchange for a key. Who the hell is Noa sleeping with here?
“You got your swimsuit in your bag, right?” I ask Aya. We don’t typically go far without our pool gear since there’s always a place to stop and cool off in this part of the country. It’s one of the many reasons I’m staying here away from the states. It’s paradise, and I don’t have any good reason to head back to Texas.
“Of course I do, silly,” she says.
“Okay, let’s go change quickly, and we’ll head down to the pool.” Aya emits an ear-piercing shriek, and her sandals clap against the tiled floor as she runs toward the elevators as if she knows exactly where to go. I guess she’s stayed in enough hotels throughout her short life to know where things are supposed to be.
“It’s not even that busy,” Aya shouts while running right for the water.
“It’s busy enough th
at you need to wait up, kiddo. You know better than to run near the pool.” Aya stops dead in her tracks and gives off a look to inform me I’ve embarrassed her. I hold my hands up. “I’m sorry, just no running. I don’t want you to get into any trouble with a lifeguard.”
“Why would a cute little girl like her get in trouble with a lifeguard?” I’m asked. I turn around, surprised to be spoken to by anyone here. You’d think the cap on my head that’s curved over my eyes would discourage anyone from engaging in conversation with me.
“Excuse me?” I ask, turning to face a lifeguard—a drop-dead gorgeous lifeguard with oversized sunglasses and a killer tan.
“I was kidding,” she says, nudging her glasses down the bridge of her nose.
The woman’s eyes are startlingly beautiful—two round copper pennies with dark caramel outlines. She’s like a Hawaiian goddess. I swear these hotels hire models to play the staffing roles. “I hope so,” I reply. “I don’t want my daughter breaking any rules just yet.”
“She’s fine,” the woman says. “Relax.”
Wow. You’d think I was diving off the deep-end by the tone of her voice as she’s telling me to calm down. “You’re telling me to relax? You’re the one who looks miserable sitting there in front of a beautiful pool under the big open sky.”
“It’s my job. Who smiles while working?” she asks while flipping her long, dark braid over her shoulder.
“Um, I think in the hospitality industry, it’s part of your job.” Why am I arguing with a hot chick I don’t even know? I obviously need to get laid. Plus, I’m apparently uptight.
“Actually,” she replies, without hiding the hostility she’s obviously feeling, “I’m supposed to be serious since I need to keep an eye on everyone in the pool to make sure no one drowns.”
“Well, there aren’t any kids in the pool yet, so you can loosen up a little, I’m sure.”
“Dad?” Aya calls me from the steps of the pool. “I’m going in.”
“Believe it or not, it’s not the kids I have to worry about,” the lifeguard says. “It’s the arrogant visitors I have to keep an eye on.” With her last word, she pushes her aviator sunglasses back up her freckled nose and straightens her posture.
“What’s your name?” I ask even though I’m sure the conversation ended when she recovered her eyes. Still, can’t hurt to try.
She turns her head and glances over at me, adding in a snide chuckle for good measure. “No.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, ‘No.’”
“I’m Denver,” I say, reaching my hand out to her.
“No,” she says again, but this time with a tease of a smirk.
“Well, No, I’m sorry for the confusion. I am Denver. You are ‘No.’ I got it.” I point at her, and wink, leaving her with my smartass response. I needed that. It’s been a while since I’ve had any game.
“Dad!” Aya yells again. She’s neck deep in the water, treading through the four feet like a champ. I had one summer at home when she was two, and I spent every single minute I wasn’t working teaching her to swim. Two is young to understand the logistics of floating, but by the end of the summer, I didn’t have to worry about her drowning. In Hawaii, being born with the instinct to swim should tie right in with real-life experience. I want to believe that my kid is destined to be a surfer or an Olympic swimmer.
I find the towel bin and grab a couple of freshly folded white towels, dropping them down onto the empty lounge chairs near the lifeguard's stand. I can’t give up that easily.
The lifeguard straightens her neck and with what I assume to be irritation, tilts her head to each side probably needing a good crack in her tense neck. In my defense, I haven’t said anything else. I mean, the chairs are empty, and they’re in the direct sun, which is right where I want to be. “I’m coming for you, baby-girl!” I shout over to Aya.
I cross my arms over my torso and peel my shirt up over my head. I guess if this chick is going to see any part of me, it can be my best asset. I’ve been a human machine for the last eight years, and I’m proud to showcase the hard work I endured in the Marines. I unhook my worn, brown leather belt that I’ve probably had since my Abercrombie days, and drop my shorts to the pool deck. After a quick shuffle around the side of my chair, I lean over slowly and proudly to retrieve my shorts so I can place them down on the lounge chair. I can’t look over to see if I’ve caught her attention yet, but I’ll just boost my self-confidence and pretend she did.
“Well, aren’t you so sweet. Cleaning up after yourself and all,” she mutters. Ha. She saw me. She was probably staring at every move I made, and now, she’s cleaning up her drool. I bet she wishes she gave me her name now.
Right. Ah well. I can keep my confidence in check even though I’m broken baggage to the rest of the world. No chick in their prime wants a single dad with all the responsibilities in the world, but I wouldn’t give up Aya for all the hottest women in the world. She’s the only girl I need in my life.
With my show over, I catapult myself off the side of the pool and into the water, splashing Aya as hard as I can.
“Dad, no!” Aya gasps as she rubs the water from her eyes. “You’re in trouble now.” Aya pulls herself out of the water, dripping wet and shaking as she wraps her arms around her body, staring at me with the devil’s glare in her eye. “You better watch out, Dad.”
I back up a few feet, knowing what’s coming at me. She jumps into the water, pulling her knees up into her chest at the same time, and the splash is epic for my little peanut. It was so epic, it soaked the lifeguard. Ha.
I grab Aya and swing her around over my head, watching the lifeguard remain still like a statue. She’s dripping wet but doesn’t care. Or she does, and she doesn’t want me to know. I guess this is what life is like when I don’t have somewhere to be every second of the day. I have to find ways to entertain myself and clearly that means torturing this woman. Pool rules. Pool rules. Think, think, think. Surely children wouldn’t be allowed on anyone’s shoulders. That could be dangerous if I weren’t a responsible adult holding on tightly. I toss Aya up on my shoulders, holding her steady as I pace around the pool. Come on. You know you want to yell at me. What do I have to do, run around the pool?
A whistle blows because she must assume I wouldn’t be able to hear her voice from less than ten feet away. Attention is needed. “Sir, no horse playing in the pool,” she says, monotone as if she must recite the same line four hundred times a day.
“I’m not horse playing, Miss No. I’m just holding my daughter up on my shoulders. Dads do that sort of thing.”
“Not in the pool,” she replies.
“Okay, No.” She is not bending or breaking. Maybe she’s married or something. Oh well. I lift Aya off my shoulders and bring her over to the shallow end, so she doesn’t have to tread next to me.
As usual, Aya finds a little girl around her age and asks her to be her friend, then initiates a spontaneous playdate. I don’t think she will ever have trouble making friends, which is a good thing until she’s old enough to date. I have years. I can’t think about that now.
“Dude!” I hear from the distance. I cup my hand over my eyes, looking around because he sounded like Noa, but the sun is blinding, and I can’t see far.
“What are you doing here?” I hear from the lifeguard. She’s not talking to me, so it must be the guy, but why would he be calling her dude? When he steps into the shade of the guard stand, I see it is Noa, but he’s not facing me. He’s facing the guard. Oh shit. He knows her.
“I’m meeting my good man, Denver. This guy right over here,” he says, pointing at me.
I’m silently waiting for the … “Oh, you know him” line, but she just nods her head, disappointed it seems.
“Hey, man!” Noa waves. I check over my shoulder to make sure Aya is still all set in the shallow end, and she’s diving for neon rings with her newfound friend, so I climb out onto the pool deck and grab Noa’s hand, shaking it, and then pulling him in
for a hug.
“It’s so good to see you, bro. God, it’s been a while, huh?” I walk the few feet over to the lounge chair that I dropped our towels on and wrap one around my waist.
“Look at you, beefcake!” He laughs and checks me out like a fucking weirdo.
“What, are you sizing me up now?”
“No, no, I’m impressed.”
“All right, well ah ... how’s this fiancée of yours? Does she know your checking dudes out on the side?” I punch him in the shoulder.
“She knows,” the beautiful lifeguard pipes up, and a hint of a smile touches her lips.
“So, yeah, this lovely sweetheart is going to be my sister-in-law soon. How lucky am I?”
The lifeguard throws her head back, and her mouth falls open with disdain. “Noa, I think I’m the lucky one,” she groans. “Blah, blah, blah.”
“She hates me,” Noa says. It’s obviously not a secret.
“I don’t hate you,” she corrects him. “I just—you’re—”
“What, Kai, what am I?”
Kai. We have a name. It’s beautiful—suits her well, but I prefer No for now.
“A manwhore,” she spits out.
“What makes me a manwhore?” Noa fights back.
“Please. We both know the answer to that. Don’t embarrass yourself.”
Noa shoos Kai off with a laugh and crosses his arms over his white polo. “Want to go over the job deets?”
Man Buns Page 3
