I leaned into Jon. “So this is kind of like snow cones except they put a scoop of ice cream with it?”
Jon scoffed. “That is the ultimate insult to shave ice. It’s nothing like a snow cone—closer to Italian ice.”
I poked him in the ribs. “You’re serious about your treats, huh?”
“Oh yeah.” He helped me re-adjust the ice on my wounded shoulder.
He smelled like the ocean mixed with a citrus scent, maybe lime, and I allowed myself to relax and breathe him in. A second later I felt him staring at me and turned to meet the question in his eyes. “Feeling okay?”
I nodded and he gave me a quick squeeze as we stepped toward the counter. I listened to Jon order coconut ice cream topped with shave ice in the Hawaiian Sunrise flavor which included strawberry, mango, and pineapple syrups. I opted for a scoop of macadamia nut ice cream and my shave ice was flavored with mango, guava, and lychee. We sat on a bench in front of the store, and I let the sweet concoction melt on my tongue.
“What do you think?” Jon asked before he shoveled in another mouthful.
“Delicious.” The ice was shaved so thin, it reminded me of gelato, and I loved the interesting new flavor of lychee—the employee told me it tasted like a combination of pear and grapes. I had to agree.
Jon finished his shave ice in record time, then leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. I studied him, sifting through our experiences of the day. He had almost kissed me, teased me mercilessly, and saved my life—not bad for a first date. Part of me still wondered about that almost-kiss, but the rest of me was frustrated with my breakdown on the beach. Although my heart did feel a bit lighter, I still didn’t like crying in front of people.
Jon peered at me beneath his lashes. “Am I that good looking? ’Cause I can feel you staring at me.”
I rolled my eyes and turned back to my treat. “I was just thinking about our first date.”
He chuckled. “Worried what might happen on the second?”
“Nope. Are you still up for helping me track down that secretary?” I asked.
His brow furrowed. “I don’t know if we’ll have much luck with that if my dad hasn’t found her. But yes, I’ll help you get the files you need.”
“Thanks, Jon, for listening today, for understanding, for . . . everything.”
He tapped his foot against the sidewalk. “About that second date.”
I held my hand up. “Hold it, buddy. Let’s see how you come through on your promises first.”
“I guess we’ll just have to extend the first date a little longer then.” He chuckled. “C’mon. I have something for you.”
“Oh?” My stomach flipped, and I ordered myself to quit acting like a giddy teenager, but the way he looked at me when he spoke made fireworks spark through my heart. I glanced at his mouth and bit my lip as he held out his hand with his penetrating gaze. The sugar had taken the edge off my scrapes, and his tanned body was looking much too appealing.
We got in the car and headed back to the southern region of Kauai. “It’s back at the hotel,” he said.
My eyes widened and I tried to cover my reaction, but too late. Jon laughed. “The front desk is holding it for me, and don’t worry, it’s not a room key.”
I punched him—but not too hard. He pretended it hurt and laughed some more. Jon kept doing that—making me feel comfortable then twisting up my insides, making me blush and act like a schoolgirl. I kind of liked him, maybe a tiny bit more than I wanted to at the moment.
When we pulled up to the hotel, he opened my door for me and walked me past the front desk out to the wide deck overlooking the ocean. “Hey, would you like me to talk to someone about that psycho lady?”
I thought about Mrs. Harper. The plans were set now, so maybe she would leave me alone. “Thanks, but I don’t want to stir the pot.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded. “I’ll let you know if I change my mind, though.”
“Okay then. I’ll be right back,” Jon said and jogged toward the entryway.
I watched him go and then turned back toward the deck. The waves rolled in, crashing against the beach with the rhythm and sound that I had loved since the first time I visited the ocean at age twelve. The sounds of the waves had lulled me to sleep many nights as I listened to a recording of the tide moving in and gulls crying. But nothing could compare to the raw beauty of the ocean up close.
My concentration shifted and the back of my neck tingled with the sense that someone was staring at me. I turned around, but Jon hadn’t returned. There were several people milling about, talking, laughing, and getting ready to check out the swimming pools facing the beach. I let my gaze wander around the perimeter of the balcony, but I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Then I shifted to look at the water again and stiffened when I made eye contact with a man standing in my direct line of sight. He stared, unblinking, and fear clutched at my throat. It was the same muscled Polynesian man I had encountered earlier, and as I stared at him he lifted his hand to his heart, tapped it twice, and then narrowed his eyes.
I took a step back and bumped into someone. “I’m sorry.” I turned to apologize to a young woman behind me. When I faced forward again, the man was gone. I stood there for a few minutes, searching the crowds of people, but I couldn’t see him or his light blue shirt decorated with the black outline of the hibiscus flower. It was nothing. Maybe he was just flirting—no harm done. I told myself it was okay, but I didn’t feel better.
A few minutes later Jon returned, carrying a gorgeous plumeria lei. “Adri, are you still hurting? You look a little pale.”
I opened my mouth to tell him about the man I’d seen, and then pressed my lips together. What if he thought I was over-reacting? And then I decided not to tell him because he would want to soothe me, tell me nothing was wrong, and that was not what I wanted to hear at the moment. “Just a little tired.”
“This is for you.” Jon held out the lei. “Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman.”
It looked different from the one he’d given Malia and I upon our arrival. The flowers were twice as thick on the strand. Jon placed it over my head and leaned in to kiss my cheek. He hesitated for half a second, all I needed to do was turn my head and my mouth would meet his, but I waited a nanosecond too long in my indecision and he pulled back.
“This is lovely. Thank you.” The heady scent made me inhale deeply, and before I could stop myself, I sighed.
Jon didn’t seem to notice. He studied me with some kind of knowing expression moving across his face, his mouth turning up slightly.
“I’ve had a great day.” I embraced him, careful not to smash the flowers. “There are a few things I need to do—Malia’s bridal shower is the day after tomorrow.”
He nodded. “That’s right, I remember Monday is a busy day for everyone. Sorry to keep you. I was just trying to see how long I could prolong the first date.”
For a moment I thought he might invite me to dinner, and as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t. My body ached and I needed to rest. “Thanks for today.”
“Looks like you could probably use a nap and more ice,” Jon said. He glanced at my shoulder, and the dull ache seemed to increase with the attention.
“That might be a good idea.” I stepped forward, and he walked with me to the elevators. I didn’t want him to accompany me all the way to my room, so I put my hand on his arm and looked up at him. “Thanks for everything, especially the flowers.” I motioned to my lei. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
“I’ll call you as soon as I find something so we can plan date number two.” He motioned to the lei he’d given me. “Keep that in the fridge in your room in this sack.” He handed me a plastic sack. “And you can wear it tomorrow if you want.”
“Good to know.” I didn’t say anything about tomorrow. Jon knew I had work to do, but it sounded like he was going to try to squeeze into my schedule if he could, and at the moment that sounded fine with me.
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Chapter 7
HOW TO STORE YOUR HAWAIIAN LEI
Place flower lei inside a clear plastic bag and tie off. Refrigerate lei in between wearing and flowers will last up to three days before browning. When flowers start to wilt, hang lei to dry to enjoy the last of the unforgettable plumeria scent.
Courtesy of www.mashedpotatoesandcrafts.com
My room had a large, dark wood-framed mirror hanging above the dressers. I stood in front of the mirror, admiring my lei for a minute and reliving the afternoon with Jon. A flutter of excitement about Jon’s attraction teased my middle, but then I frowned. I was doing exactly what I told myself I wasn’t going to do—get involved with another guy. Without warning, Luke’s face flashed through my mind, and I sucked in a breath as I remembered that he was supposed to arrive sometime today. A blast of mixed emotions regarding Luke, and then Jon, made me slump into my chair. Lorea hadn’t let up on the fact that I still owed Luke a date for saving my life last summer, but Luke hadn’t badgered me. He’d honored my request for space and time to heal, checking in on me occasionally.
My original hostile feelings toward him and his profession as a divorce lawyer had changed, but I didn’t like the way my heart was already beating faster as I pictured his rare smile and blue eyes.
With a shake of my head, I rose from the chair and removed my lei. Holding it close to my face, I breathed in the scent. Then I positioned the plumeria flowers on the top of the desk and grabbed my camera. My mom would be thrilled with all the pictures I was taking for our blog.
I glanced at my watch—it was almost five-thirty, which meant that in Idaho it was nine-thirty. It was a perfect time to webcam my mom and show her the leis while they were still fresh.
Our conversation was brief, but I filled her in on some of my activities. I left out the parts about how I almost died on my bike ride. And I definitely didn’t say anything about my adventure in snorkeling from yesterday. Mom urged me to have fun, relax, and take lots of pictures.
After signing off with Mom, I carefully stored my lei in the fridge and grabbed my planner. Malia’s family was flying in tonight for her bridal shower on Monday. The party would be a success, because the resort staff was helping me put together a spa gift package for each guest with certificates for massages, facials, manicures, and pedicures. These party favors were supposed to include some special monogrammed items with the Tri-C logo, but I didn’t know if we would get them in time for the bridal shower.
I never left things until the last minute, but the new logo design had just been completed last week, and Neil had asked if we could wait and then do a rush order on a few things. I didn’t think Kyle really liked the idea of his father pushing the Tri-C influence during a wedding, but when he said Neil never missed an opportunity to market, Malia had disagreed, saying that he was simply proud of what their company stood for. The undercurrent of tension made sense now that Jon had confided in me his own plans to visit Idaho’s farmlands. Perhaps the pressure from Neil was too great for his sons.
I drummed my fingers on the desktop as I thought about each element of Malia’s bridal shower. The party would definitely top any bridal shower I’d done so far, because Malia didn’t know that her family had combined it into a sweet bachelorette party.
Malia had been adamant that she didn’t want a bachelorette party because in her words, “I don’t want to deal with the unsavory traditions surrounding that kind of party.”
I decided to call the maid of honor, Jenica, to see if she needed help with any of the preparations. She answered on the second ring.
“Aloha,” she said.
“Hi, Jenica. It’s Adri. I’m calling to see if you needed help with any of the final preparations for Malia’s party on Monday.”
“Oh, thanks for checking. I think I’ve got it all figured out. This is going to be marvelous,” she gushed. “I found a fire dancer who was available for a surprise visit later that night.”
“Uh, I don’t remember anything about a fire dancer. In the middle of the day?” I flipped through my notes, wondering where Jenica had taken off with our carefully laid plans.
“Technically he’s not just a fire dancer, but a bachelorette party isn’t a party unless there’s a little dancing. You should see this guy’s abs. Wowzer.”
“Jenica, did you forget that Malia specifically requested not to have a bachelorette party for the very reason you just described?” I planted both my feet on the ground and sat up in my chair to take a cleansing breath. “As the maid of honor, it’s important that you remember Malia’s wishes and make this about her, not about what other people would want.”
“I’m sure Malia will be fine. This is Hawaii. Can’t we indulge in the culture a little?” Jenica’s voice had a snappy tone to it that I didn’t appreciate.
“I think it’s important to remember what Malia wants.”
“How about you do your job and I’ll do mine.” Jenica’s voice rose a notch and I cringed.
“Sounds like a good idea. I’ll talk to you later.” I ended the call before I said anything I would regret.
I stared at the phone, thinking about Malia and her request for sweet parties only. It would upset her if Jenica didn’t honor her wishes, but I wasn’t sure how I could interfere as Jenica was one of her best friends. After gnawing on my bottom lip for a minute, I thought of someone who might help.
My heart sped up as I dialed Heather’s cell number. I didn’t want Malia’s future mother-in-law to think I was a meddler, but I had a feeling that she wouldn’t stand for Jenica’s plans.
“Adri, how are you doing?” Heather answered with a cheerful tone.
“I’m good, but I’m calling for a little advice.” I swallowed my nerves and waited for her to respond. I really didn’t know Heather that well, but she seemed kind and also had a take-charge attitude.
“Okay, I’ll try to help,” Heather said.
I briefly described Jenica’s plans and how they were exactly what Malia didn’t want. Heather listened and then she sighed.
“When I met Jenica, I wondered how on earth someone like her could be Malia’s best friend,” Heather paused. “Sorry, that’s not very nice, but I have an idea that will help. Why don’t you give me Jenica’s phone number? I’ll call her and offer to help with the party, confirming bookings, etc.”
“Um, okay.” I scrolled through my phone for the number, switching Heather to speaker phone. “I’m not following how that solves the problem.”
Heather chuckled. “That might be for the best. When the booking for the fire dancer gets cancelled, you can claim innocence.”
“Oh, I see. I doubt she’ll believe me though.” I rolled my tongue over my teeth as understanding of Heather’s plans came clear. Jenica would be spitting fire, but I would risk her wrath if it would keep Malia’s genuine smile in place. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”
“What good is a mother-in-law if she can’t meddle a little, right?” Heather laughed and the tension eased out of my shoulders.
“Thanks for helping me on this.”
“Any time.”
I said goodbye, biting my lip as I considered the implications of getting Heather involved with Jenica, but then I thought of Malia and reconsidered my guilty conscience. I wouldn’t think about it anymore and hope for the best.
I returned my attention to the rest of my notes. The caterer was all set, and the hotel had several cabanas reserved on the beach for the party. I closed my planner with a snap. My stomach grumbled, but I didn’t want a big meal. I settled for a granola bar, dark chocolate, and an apple. After eating, I scooted onto the bed, curling around a soft down pillow. It had been a long day, and my shoulder was throbbing again. I dozed until a rap at my door brought me back to consciousness.
As I got up, I winced at the stiffness in my joints, especially my shoulder. The peephole showed no one at my door, so I opened it a crack. I squinted and stepped halfway into the hall. I looked up and down the hall, then my ga
ze landed on a pink piece of paper at my feet. I bent down and snatched the paper as I stepped back into my room. The paper crinkled as I unfolded it and I read the printed note.
We are more important than any wedding, but we are willing to make some concessions for your acceptance of a new time for the luau. We appreciate that you have come to your senses and are willing to accept that often we must be accommodating to those with greater needs than our own.
Your prompt reply is requested.
Mrs. Amelia Harper, Director
By the time I finished reading, my heart pounded and the back of my neck burned with anger. The woman was out of her high-heeled mind if she thought I would respond to her condescending request. Evidently, she wasn’t going to leave me alone. I walked over to my desk and pushed a button on the white telephone base.
“Yes, would you please connect me to Chelsea at the concierge table?”
“One moment, please,” the operator said.
“This is Chelsea. How may I help you?”
“Chelsea, this is Adri. I’m just checking to make sure that everything is as we had arranged this morning. No other changes, correct?”
Chelsea cleared her throat. “Uh, yes. I apologize but Mrs. Harper has been difficult to deal with. We’re doing our best to accommodate both parties.”
“I have a written contract that you need to uphold, and I won’t tolerate any more threats from Mrs. Harper. Please relay to her that if I get so much as an eyebrow raised in my direction, I won’t notify security, I’ll call the local police and report harassment.”
“Yes, I understand Adri, but if you could consider her terms, they might be satisfactory.”
“I’m tired and this is the end of our conversation. Good bye.” I thought about slamming the phone down, but remembered my training and set it down with mock gentleness.
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