by A. P. Jensen
“I’ll see you later,” he said.
Without another backward glance, he drove away. Juliet stared after him. Had that been his version of a goodbye or would she really see him later? It didn’t matter, did it? With her teeth bared, she got into the bug and rolled down the windows as she drove back to town. She shouldn’t have told Dominick about Brent and what brought her back to Hawaii. No one wanted to hear that kind of crap.
Juliet’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen before she answered, “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself. I heard you had breakfast with Dominick at Hawaiian Style,” Maile said.
Juliet wanted to bang her head on the steering wheel. “Coincidence. I went to the beach, saw Kai and Dominick was there too.”
“Coincidence, my ass. Where are you?”
“Driving to town. I’m going to your house. I’m going to look at your paperwork.”
“That’s all you’re going to give me?” Maile asked indignantly.
There was a lot more to tell her, but not now. “I’ll tell you later.”
Maile blew a raspberry. “Fine, prude. Come by the store later and give me the scoop.”
Juliet hung up and placed her phone on the dashboard. She woke with vague plans to go to the beach where Kai used to surf and not only found him, but Dominick as well. Dominick hijacked her morning, but she couldn’t say he hadn’t been good company. She thought of Brent and tightened her hands on the wheel. On a whim, she called Callie and wasn’t surprised when it went straight to voicemail.
“Callie, its Juliet. I want to see you today. Scarlet said you’re sick. I can bring you soup or medicine if you want. Call me back.”
Minutes passed. The phone didn’t ring. Callie had been so eager yesterday to get together and now she wouldn’t call back? Scarlet claimed that Callie was ‘sick,' but she had been fine yesterday. Callie’s husband was a volatile alcoholic. What the hell was Callie doing with a man like him? Juliet resisted the urge to call again and tried to shake off her uneasy feelings.
Chapter Six
Juliet set Maile’s paperwork for the consignment shop on the ancient dining table in her kitchen. The kitchen was a sunny yellow with waving cats and wooden owl statues on the windowsills. She had fond memories of Nana cooking and baking in this kitchen. Maile loved her grandmother more than anyone in the world. Juliet felt a spear of guilt that she wasn’t here for the funeral. Who stood beside Maile and held her hand? Maile and Nana gave her a safe haven, a place where she could kick back and be herself. Maile was right. She owed her.
Juliet hung Maile’s sheets on the clothesline and tossed her new wardrobe into the wash before she called her former secretary to tell her that she would be staying in Hawaii for a couple of weeks. Her secretary, young and driven, didn’t mind in the least and ended the conversation with a quick, absent good luck. Juliet used her phone to check her bank account and felt a trill of alarm. It was time to make money.
Juliet dusted off the stack of papers and began to sift through Maile’s finances. Juliet was pleasantly surprised to see how well Maile did, but these statements were over a year old. Juliet recognized the dated, basic program Maile used for bookkeeping and knew of several others that would work better for her circumstances. The sheer number of consignors was staggering. Maile cut checks daily so there was a lot of activity, so much so that Juliet’s mind began to spin.
Around one o’clock Juliet decided she needed a break. She hung her clothes on the line, raided the fridge and found the makings for a sandwich. She made notes as she ate and restlessly tapped the pen on paper. She wished she had a computer and internet. She wanted to do some research on computer programs for Maile. If her figures this year were as good as last year, Maile would be able to open a second shop no problem. Juliet’s mind raced with possibilities. If Maile just fixed up the shop a bit, her product would be displayed in such a way that people weren’t overwhelmed when they stepped inside as she had been. A familiar burst of excitement fizzled. Business was in her blood. It had been since the summer she started at Grant Shipping. At the time, she believed that Gray would promote her one day if she worked hard enough. She had been so naive. If Gray hadn’t interfered in her life, where would she be today?
Juliet turned her mind away from Gray because just the thought of him turned her stomach. She nabbed her phone and called Callie again, but there was no answer. Juliet bit into her sandwich with gusto and tried to tamp down her anxiety. Callie was fine and just sick in bed, she told herself. Although Callie was older, there was a fragility to her that prompted Juliet to become her protector at a young age. Callie got along for fifteen years without her. She had to remember that.
Juliet brushed her finger over her lip and thought of Dominick. Dominick Bryson was sex on a stick. He was the most confusing man she’d ever met. She had a bad record with men even before Annie’s death messed with her head. Kai was probably the only ex that would hug her after the hell she put him through. The nightmares, rages and her obsession with the past wasn’t something much people would have been able to put up with. The only miracle was that he stayed with her so long. Her arrangement with Chad was more about convenience. He was the social butterfly that could sweet talk people into investing. She did all the number crunching and computer work. When he accused her of embezzlement, she’d been more concerned what her employees thought than wondering how Chad could believe that she would want to sabotage a company she built from the ground up.
Juliet went back to her paperwork and after another hour, decided that she needed to get on Maile’s computer at the shop. With her notes in hand and phone in her back pocket, she walked into Maile’s store. It was teeming with women. There was a fashion show going on by the three dressing rooms. Apparently, Maile appointed herself the judge because she told one of her customers that the jumpsuit she was trying on was hideous.
“Hey,” Juliet said to get her attention.
Maile leapt up from her stool and clapped her hands together. “Yay! Gossip. So, spill.”
“I’m here to talk about business.”
Maile rolled her eyes. “You Grants.”
“I’m not—”
“Yeah, yeah. Have at it,” Maile said, waving at the computer before her customer snagged her attention again by parading around in a tube top and skirt.
Juliet shook her head as she hopped on the computer and greeted a customer who ambled in, blowing on her still wet nails. Juliet quickly searched a couple of programs on the computer and hunted through the mess for a more recent stacks of paperwork that would divulge Maile’s current store income.
“I’m ready,” a customer said.
Juliet poked her head up and saw a woman with a stack of shoes. “Oh, okay. Hold on a second. Maile!”
Maile took her time coming over. Her eyes bugged when she saw what Juliet was doing on the computer. “What’s all that?”
“I’ll explain later. Why don’t you get this lady checked out?” Juliet said though clenched teeth.
“Well, you can do it. Click out of there and pull up that window. Yeah. So, on this shoe there’s two sets of numbers. Plug it in there. Yeah. Okay, next.”
In short order Juliet collected fifteen dollars and gave the woman her change. Maile leaned back on the front counter.
“So, what’s the deal?” Maile asked.
“Do you know how much you make in a month?” Juliet asked.
“No.”
Juliet resisted the urge to smack her on the forehead. “Well, last year you did really well. I want to see what you did in the past couple of months.”
Maile didn’t seem very interested. “I ordered you a laptop. It should be here tomorrow. Let me know if you need fancy programs or whatever and I’ll pay for them.”
One of the women from the dressing room came over and eyed Juliet curiously. “Who are you?”
“Sumi, this is Juliet Grant.” When the woman frowned Maile elaborated, “She’s the black sheep. She’s here to help me with my
store.”
“Help you how?” Sumi asked.
“With finances and paperwork. She’s a genius,” Maile said.
“You’re a bookkeeper?”
“Uh, not exactly,” Juliet said.
“She can do it all,” Maile said blithely. “She was raised in Grant Shipping. If Gray wasn’t so sexist, she could be CEO or COO. But, it doesn’t matter. Juliet’s going to help me open another store.”
“You are?”
Before Juliet could answer, Maile continued.
“She’s looking over my profits to see if I can run two stores. I’m going to start selling furniture so let me know if you or people you know want to sell some pieces. I’m doing a fifty-fifty split with the consignor for furniture,” Maile said.
“I have a small business,” Sumi said to Juliet. “I run a farm with my husband. We have several contracts with the stores and hotels. Would you be interested in bookkeeping for us?”
“Uh…” Juliet said.
“Sure,” Maile answered for her. “She’s getting a computer tomorrow so she’ll be more mobile. Write your number and email down here and she’ll contact you. You live in town, right?”
Maile and Sumi chatted while Juliet stood on the side, dumbfounded by the speed with which things were happening. By the time Sumi left Juliet wasn’t sure whether to be relieved, thrilled or pissed.
“What the hell was that?” Juliet demanded.
“What was what?” Maile asked innocently.
“You don’t know if you can open a second store, but you tell Sumi you’re looking for furniture? Then, you tell her I’m a bookkeeper.”
“Well, you can do it, can’t you?”
“Yes, but that’s not the point!”
Maile crossed her arms. “What is the point?”
“The point is…” Juliet’s mind went blank. When Maile smirked she snapped, “The point is I’m not staying here!”
“I’m rooting for Dominick,” Maile said. “So, what’s the deal? Did you bang him yet? Was he amazing?”
Juliet glared at her. “No, I didn’t bang him.” But she wanted to.
“You still have feelings for Kai?”
“Of course not. I love him, but as a friend.”
Maile sniffed. “So, you left at the crack of dawn to see Kai and Dominick was there. I heard he sat next to you in the booth. I love how macho he is. God, what I wouldn't do for a crack at that.”
“Seriously, how the hell do you know this? You’re freaking me out.”
“Coconut wireless. Get used to it. So, give over. Tell me everything from the start. Did you end up going to Hunter’s Bar last night?”
“I sure did,” Juliet said dryly and held up a hand. “I know you said Hunter’s not warm and cuddly, but that has got to be the biggest understatement ever. He’s always known about me and he didn’t care. He didn’t want me in his bar. He glared at me the whole time.”
Maile gave her a conciliatory pat on the back.
“It doesn't end there. At the bar, this guy hit on me. He was a little too pushy. I was about to brain him over the head with a beer bottle when Dominick stopped me. Come to find out, it's my brother-in-law.”
Maile winced. “Freddy is a bit of a perv.”
“Why the hell would Callie marry someone like that?”
“You know why.” When Juliet stared at her, Maile rolled her eyes. “Callie didn't have a choice. Gray picked him, end of story.”
“That's not the end of the story! I mean, this guy is cheating on his pregnant wife.”
Maile shrugged. “You can't help her, Juliet. She's married and pregnant with the guy’s kid, for God’s sake.”
Juliet pulled out her phone and felt another pang of uneasiness when she saw that Callie still hadn't returned her call.
“So, Dominick interfered between you and Freddy and you saw him again this morning,” Maile surmised.
“Yes. He seems to be everywhere I am.”
“What do you think about him?”
“He’s…” Juliet gestured ineffectively and then shot Maile a dirty look when she giggled. “He’s complicated, hot and one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met. So, what?”
Maile wagged a finger in her face. “You can't fool me, Juliet Grant. I know you too well.”
“Whatever.” She hoped the blush she felt crawling up from her neck didn't give her away. “By the way, we had an unexpected visitor last night.”
In short order Juliet told her about Brent’s visit and wasn't surprised by Maile’s inventive stream of curses.
“I'm telling you because I don't know what he's capable of and he might come by the house again. Actually, I'm sure of it,” Juliet said and broke off as another customer approached.
Maile was too upset to ring up the customer, so Juliet did. By the time the customer walked out of the shop, Maile hadn't calmed down in the least.
“Who the hell does he think he is? You're his sister!” Maile shook her head, bewildered and hurt. “You grew up together, loved each other…”
“I told you, it's not a good idea for me to be here. I told Dominick the same thing.”
Maile stepped into her space. “You listen here, Juliet, you have nothing to be ashamed of or sorry for. When the time comes for the truth to come out, I hope you speak up.”
Juliet said nothing.
“You aren’t going anywhere and neither am I. They don't want to mess with me. I have the biggest mouth on the island and I know how to use it.”
“I love you, but—” Juliet began.
“No. You've suffered long enough. You left so you could start over. Gray wouldn't let you so now it’s payback time.”
“I can't do anything to him,” Juliet said.
“You have more power than you realize,” Maile said and broke off when a customer called for help from the dressing room.
Juliet considered Maile’s words as she checked her phone again. No text or missed call from Callie. With an impatient hiss, she dialed the home office of Grant Shipping from memory. Scarlet picked up on the second ring.
“You’ve reached Scarlet at Grant Shipping. What can I do for you?”
Juliet rolled her eyes and said in a high voice, “I’m trying to reach Freddy. Is he there?”
“Yes, but he’s in a meeting. May I take a message?”
“No, that’s okay. You said your name is Scarlet?”
“Yes.”
“That’s a pretty name.”
Scarlet’s voice brightened. “My mother named me after Scarlett O’Hara.”
“Oh,” Juliet paused deliberately. “She didn’t name you after the book, The Scarlet Letter?”
“I beg your pardon?” Scarlet asked in frigid tones.
“Or scarlet fever?”
“Who is this?” Scarlet demanded.
Juliet hung up with an evil smile and walked to the dressing room curtain which billowed like crazy.
“Hey, Maile, you know where Callie lives?” she called.
Maile gave directions only a local would understand. “Why? What's up?”
“I want to check on her, make sure she's okay.”
“Fine, but this talk isn't over,” Maile warned and snapped, “well, if you dressed in clothes your size, we wouldn't have this problem!”
Juliet left the store, shaking her head. Maile hadn't changed a bit. She was every bit as wild, generous and blunt as ever. How did she live fifteen years without Maile in her life? Maile didn't take life too seriously. She lived in the moment. Things always worked out for people like her. Maybe she should take a leaf out of Maile’s book.
Juliet drove through Waimea, a small cowboy town with pastures, rolling hills and friendly people. Waimea had grown exponentially since she left. There was a new shopping center with restaurants, stores and a second grocery store. There were cars everywhere and Juliet felt a tiny flicker of disappointment that Waimea had changed. For God’s sake, they had a Starbucks now. What was the world coming to? At a stoplight, several lo
cals craned their necks to see who was driving Nana’s bug. Okay, so maybe there were more people and it had a modern touch, but old-timers and third generation locals knew one another.
Juliet shook her head as she passed old haunts. She agreed to come to Lee’s wedding and two days later she had two clients—Maile and a farmer. She had a nasty showdown with Gray and Brent and was concerned about Callie’s marriage. Never in a million years could she have predicted such an outcome. Her relationship with Callie was… complicated. Callie had a front row seat the night all hell broke loose in the Grant mansion. Callie watched it unfold and never told Lee, Scarlet or Brent the truth. At times, Juliet hated Callie for not backing her up, but that was neither here nor there. Regardless of the past, Juliet couldn’t ignore the compulsion to make sure Callie was okay.
Juliet pulled up to an enchanting dollhouse painted in shades of baby blue and pink. There was a blinding white picket fence and colorful flowers blooming along the walkway. The garage door was closed and all the curtains in the house were drawn. It was charming and exactly what Juliet expected from a house Callie lived in. So why did it feel so wrong, then?
Juliet rang the doorbell and tried to catch any hint of movement in the house. She called Callie’s phone, but there was no answer. Juliet rounded the house, pausing every now and then to knock on windows and call Callie’s name. Juliet hesitated only a second before she hopped the fence and walked into the backyard. White sheets waved on the clothesline. Juliet pounded on the back door. Still no answer.
There was a half open window high up on the wall. Juliet turned over two huge, empty planters and climbed on. She used her car key to slice through the screen and lifted herself up. She balanced on her belly, half in and half out of the window like a secret agent.
“Callie?”
The house was pitch black and her voice echoed back to her. What if Callie was eating lunch with a friend or walking a dog? What if Callie changed her mind and didn’t want to see her?
“Fuck it,” Juliet muttered.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she made out a wide counter beneath her. She wriggled slowly through the window until her hands touched the surface and slowly brought the rest of her body in. She crouched on the counter and yanked back the curtains for light. Her breath caught when she saw blood and broken glass on the kitchen floor.
