by Claire Adams
It was both incredibly wise and incredibly ludicrous for him to say, and I couldn't help laughing. I sobered quickly though. “I don't even know how to make things right with him, though,” I told him. “Like, should I offer him money? He probably doesn't need that anyway; he apparently comes here to Hawaii every year, and-”
“Yeah, don't do that,” Mark said, making a face at me. “It honestly bothers me that that's your first idea.”
“So, what should I-”
“Just be upfront with him, dude,” Mark said. “We all have our faults. And you're lucky because if he's kept up with the news about you at all, he probably already knows all your faults. He knows that you drink too much and that you party too hard and that you've slept with nearly every woman in the world. You don't even really have to say anything except that you're sorry.”
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “You make it sound so easy,” I complained.
“It is,” Mark said. “Look, I don't want to go too much into the backstory here, but I've got a brother too. He lives on the mainland now, in Florida. Growing up, living with him was absolute hell. And when he moved out, I swore that I was never going to talk to the guy again. But you know what? One day, he called me up out of the blue and said that he was in Hawaii and that he wanted to meet up and apologize. And we had the most awkward lunch ever, and we talk nearly every other week and exchange holiday cards and all that. He's one of my good friends. I never would have expected that.”
I sighed. “It can't be that easy,” I said. “But I guess I have no choice but to try it.” I shook my head. “If I’m being honest, I wouldn't even be thinking about it this much, but he's the only family that I have left.”
“Aw, man. You need to make up with him then,” Mark said. “Do you know where he's staying here in Hawaii?”
“Not a clue,” I said, shaking my head. “All I know is that I was over at Gretchen's place yesterday and we went for a walk on the beach, and that's when he ran into us, so we assume he must be somewhere in that vicinity. But that doesn't narrow it down all that much.”
Mark shook his head, a grin on his face. “Man, I knew I was going to be able to pay you back one of these days!” he exclaimed.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“One of my really good friends is a police officer here. He can find your man, no worries. What's his name?”
“Jeffrey Wall,” I said. “I think that's still his last name. For all I know, he's changed it so as to have nothing to do with me ever again.”
“I doubt he'd do that,” Mark said. “You might have been a prick to him, but you're still his brother, underneath it all.”
“But the media might have gone after him, given his name,” I pointed out.
Mark rolled his eyes. “Do you not realize how many dudes in the world have the last name 'Wall?’” he asked. “It's not exactly a unique surname.” When I still hesitated, Mark shook his head. “Come on,” he said. “You're not the person that I thought you were; you haven't been the Christian Wall since you've been here in Hawaii, and not since you and Gretchen have started your fling. Just be that person, admit that you're wrong, and I'm sure your brother will forgive you in a heartbeat. He'd have to.”
“Okay,” I finally said. “Figure out where he is, and take me there.”
Two hours later, I found myself standing nervously outside my brother's hotel room door. I smoothed down the bottom of my shirt and bit my lower lip, trying to think of what I wanted to say. I had a pretty good script for it in my head. Something in me wished that I had notecards with me or something like that, but I knew he would tell me I was being insincere if I pulled a stunt like that.
It wasn't that I was feeling at all insincere; I just wanted to script this, because otherwise, I was afraid-
“What the hell are you doing here?” Jeff asked, coming up behind me.
And yes, just like I'd expected, I found that all the words I'd meant to say had left my brain.
On instinct, I pulled him into a rough hug, patting him on the back a few times. He was stiff against me, though. “I said, what the hell are you doing here?” he snapped when I had finally released him.
I ran a hand back through my hair, unable to meet his steely eyes. “I don't know,” I admitted, swallowing hard against a mouth suddenly gone dry. I thought hard about the conversation that Mark and I had had. I remembered how he had told me to be myself, not the guy who needed things to be scripted out before he could talk to the press. I knew what I needed to say. I took a deep breath and began.
“I'm sorry,” I said. “I should have said that years ago, but I didn't think that you would listen. And now I know that whether you listen to me or not, whether you believe me or not, it's important for me to say it. I'm sorry. I know that I was a dick to you. I made my money, and even though you were the only person who ever really supported me before the business started to take off, I totally ditched you. I quit meeting up with you. I quit even answering your emails. And there was that whole…”
I broke off, clearing my throat a little and looking guiltily off to the side. He knew exactly what I was referring to, without me delving into greater detail. “We have a lot of history,” I forged on. “And only some of that history has been good, but I remember when you were my best friend, Jeff. I'm not asking you to be that again, and I'm not even asking you to support me. I guess I'm asking you to believe that I'm sorry.”
Jeff stared at me for a long moment, and then he began a sarcastic slow clap. “Wow, Chris,” he said, shaking his head. “Just, wow. I didn't think you had it in you. Tell me, which one of your PR guys wrote that one? The same one who wrote your resignation speech from Sunrise Real Estate?”
“I haven't resigned,” I told him.
“Oh, really?” Jeff asked, raising an eyebrow at me. “Let's see, sure, maybe you haven't technically resigned. There was just that whole apology thing, where you said you were going to go fuck around for a few months, which I assume is what you're doing here in Hawaii?”
“It's not going to be a few months,” I told him. “I'm going back in a couple of weeks, in January. Once the New Year starts. They need me.”
“They need you,” Jeff scoffed. “What, they thrive off the bad press that you give them?”
“I'm the face of the company,” I said, shrugging a little. “Sure, I haven't acted like it in recent years. I have caused our stocks to dip, and I understand that more and more the longer I'm away from it. I'm starting to see how well the company could do if…” I swallowed hard. “If I was committed to it, and professional, and everything else that the guys always asked me to be.”
Jeff was staring at me for a long moment. “You look really serious.”
“I am really serious,” I said to him. “The longer I'm here in Hawaii, the more I realize that that the way I've been living, it hasn't been particularly healthy. For the company or me or the people around me. And I could do so much more.”
“But you're still sleeping with random chicks,” Jeff said, shaking his head. “I saw you, on the beach with that woman. Bet you took her home and-”
“Don't,” I interrupted. “Before you say anything against Gretchen, you should know that she's the only person who I've been with since I've come to Hawaii,” I told him. “She and I have been seeing each other at least a few times a week, and not just for sex. We go on dates, and we went to a luau, and I met all of her friends from around the island.”
“God,” he said, still staring incredulously at me. “You're serious about someone? For real? Or is this just another one of those things that you would say to the reporters?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. I laughed a little. “Actually, you don't know how nice it's been to be here and not have to deal with reporters. I think that might be part of why I'm starting to feel like myself again. I'm not constantly lying and fielding questions and whatever. It's been nice.”
“That actually makes a lot of sense,” Jeff said, cocki
ng his head to the side a little. This time, he was the one who came in for a hug. “Look, man, I'm sorry to be so suspicious about this all, but I still keep honestly suspecting that you've, I don't know, got a whole line of cameras in this hall who are about to jump out and tell me how badly you've just punked me or something.”
“Never,” I said.
Jeff laughed. “Bullshit,” he said. “Twenty-seven--year-old Christian totally would have pulled a stunt like that, just to prove that he could, to himself as much as the world.”
I grimaced. “I'd like to think I've come a little way since then,” I said.
“You probably have,” Jeff said. He ran a hand back through his hair, a gesture that was familiar enough since it was one of my own nervous, thoughtful gestures. We were more similar than we were different when it came down to it.
“Let me take you out to dinner sometime,” I told him. “How much longer are you here in Hawaii?”
“Just until tomorrow, unfortunately,” Jeff said, shrugging a little. “Have to get back to the grind. But you know, Boston isn't that far away from New York. Maybe you'll make it up to see me sometime. Give me your number, and I'll text you my address.”
“That would be great,” I said, already pulling out my phone so that I could punch in his digits as he reeled them off.
I went back to my hotel after that and flopped down across the bed with my shoes still on, feeling drained but happy at the same time. It was such a relief to have finally made up with Jeff, after so many long years of fighting with him. The first thing I wanted to do was call Gretchen, but I knew she had a slew of appointments that afternoon in the aftermath of the holiday; lots of people were going home that week so they could get back to work once the new year started.
When I picked up my phone to text her anyway, the thing started ringing. It was Paul on the other end.
“Hey man,” he said. “Gotta keep this short because I'm actually on my way to a meeting with some of our guys in Asia,” he said. “But I was just wondering if you'd booked your flight home yet. Some of our investors have been asking, and it would be great if we could put out a press release for a planned press conference in the new year featuring you.”
I tried to keep from groaning out loud. “I've looked at flights,” I told him. “But I haven't booked anything just yet. Waiting to see if the prices fluctuate at all. Or if there are any last-minute deals that I can take advantage of.”
“You know things don't work that way around holidays,” Paul said, the frown clear in his voice. I knew he knew I was just delaying, but he didn't know the reason for it. “Is everything okay over there? You haven't blown through your millions already, have you?”
I forced a laugh. “No, of course not,” I told him. “I just haven't figured out which flight I want to book yet, that's all. But I promise you. I'll be there in New York by mid-January at the latest.”
“We need you sooner than that, I think,” Paul said grimly. “If you can't be here on January 1st, I think January 4th is the latest that we could set things and still keep our investors happy. And you know what happens when we have happy investors.”
I suppressed a sigh. “Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, okay. I'll make sure and book a flight in the next couple days, and I'll send you the details once I have them.”
“Thanks, man,” Paul said.
We talked briefly about our Christmases, and then Paul had to go into his meeting. I hung up feeling as though there was a lead weight in my stomach. I couldn't believe that I would be leaving so soon. I was going to have to find some way to share the news with Gretchen. I could already see the tearful look that she would give me. I could already feel my heart ache at the pain I was about to cause her.
But it was unavoidable, and I'd known that from the start. We both had. So, there was no one really to blame here.
Chapter twenty-eight
Gretchen
I went over to Christian's hotel right after breakfast, marching up to the door and knocking firmly enough that I knew he could hear it.
When he came to the door, he looked as though he'd just tumbled out of bed. “What are you doing here so early?” he asked around a yawn.
I clapped my hands together. “Come on, get dressed,” I urged him. “We're going surfing today.”
It was worth it for the grin on his face alone. He immediately looked much more awake. “Cool,” he said. “You know, in all the time that I've been here, I still haven't set aside time to learn how to surf.”
“I know,” I said. “That's why I figured today might be a good day. I looked at the wave forecast, and apparently, there are a few spots over by Turtle Beach where things are a little calm, still with great waves, but ones that a beginner can ride. Or at least attempt to ride.” I winked at him. “Come on. Get some board shorts on, and we'll go!”
When we got to the beach, he looked dubiously out at the waves, which were cresting probably taller than I was and spilling over into frothy whitecaps. “Are you sure about this?” he asked me. “I have never surfed before.”
“I know that,” I told him, grinning. “Trust me. This is going to feel like nothing. Anyway, I'll guide you through all of it. Worst you're going to get are a few bruises; don't worry.”
“Oh, just a few bruises,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
“Well, do you want to learn or not?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest.
I watched him stare out at the waves for a moment longer, and then he finally sighed. “Okay,” he said, letting me lead him over to a board rental shop. I had a couple of boards in my quiver, but none that would suit a beginner, and especially none that were made for someone so much taller than me. Still, I knew Jessica, the owner of the shop, so we were able to get a pretty good deal on the day-long rental.
A little while later, he had already mastered the ability to ride out to the waves, and we were able to sit out there looking for the best waves to approach.
“What about that one?” he asked, pointing toward one off to our left.
“Too far over,” I said, shrugging a little. “With your muscles, you could probably reach that before it crested. But for me, I may be in pretty good shape, but that wave would be gone by the time I reached it.”
Christian laughed. “Fair enough. So, what, we just wait here until something good comes along?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, pretty much.” I flashed a grin in his direction. “What, do you have some objection to my presence?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head, looking altogether too serious.
“Good,” I said, nodding a little. “In that case, there's going to be another luau tonight for New Year's Eve. If you think that the last luau was a party, you can think again. It's got nothing on the New Year's Eve party.”
“Sounds potentially dangerous,” he said with a snort.
“Oh, it totally is,” I said, laughing. “We get super drunk and then start lighting off fireworks left and right, without even knowing what they're meant to do, for the most part. They could go off right in front of a group of us, for all we know. And we light them up anyway.”
He chuckled. “Sounds like a lot of fun.”
“It is,” I told him. “You're going to come with me, right?”
I could see his face churn through a complicated set of emotions. Then, he shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, that would be fun,” he said, his very voice sounding guarded.
I frowned, but I didn't want to ruin a good day of surfing with serious conversation. Instead, I pointed to the next big wave. “That's the one,” I told him. “Let's go!”
By the end of the day, Christian was pretty bruised up, but we were both still laughing, so I counted that as a success. Still, he groaned as he sat down on the sand. “You are a punishing teacher, and surfing is a punishing sport!” he told me.
I laughed. “You were nearly getting the hang of it by the end, though,” I told him. “That was great!”
“'Nearly' is the operative word,
though,” he said with a grimace.
“That's better than me,” I told him. “I bet in one or two more times of surfing, you'd start to have it down. It took me ages to be able to stand up on a board.”
“Thanks,” Christian said, lifting his beer toward me in a 'cheers' gesture. “And seriously, thanks for taking me out here. That was a lot of fun, for all that that was a lot of hard work.”
We both fell silent for a moment, and I could tell from Christian's expression that there was something he wanted to say to me, that same serious thing from before, come back to haunt us.
Before he could give voice to whatever it was, though, Lino came up to us, shaking the water out of his hair. “Hey Gretchen, hey Christian,” he greeted, a bit smile on his face. “Man, the surf was great today, huh? Normally I'm over at the Cove working on some more difficult things, but every once in a while, it's so nice to come back to our roots and just coast some of the baby waves, don't you think?”
“I was just teaching Christian how to surf,” I told him, trying to keep my voice neutral. I couldn't help shifting subtly closer to Christian, though, and I was relieved when he draped an arm around my shoulders.
“Cool, cool,” Lino said, nodding. “Yeah, I saw you out there, man. You're leaning a little too far back, away from the waves, but that's only natural if it's your first time. It's only natural to be afraid of the waves and whatever.”
“I'm not afraid of the waves,” Christian said, bristling a little.
“Nah, man, we all have to be afraid of the waves a little,” Lino said, as though he were a surf guru. “If we didn't respect the waves and Mother Nature, well, that's how people get killed out there.”
