She laughed. "You know darn well who I'm talking about. Not the big kahuna, that's for sure. He's a jerk. As soon as I can catch a break, I'm out of this place." She looked at my hair. "Oh, I see we're going to have a problem."
I sighed. "Yeah, I know. Hairnet."
She fiddled with the lone braid that fell past my shoulders. "You're gorgeous. I'd kill for those big dark eyes of yours."
I'd actually been thinking that I preferred her amber-colored ones to my own. They were striking in her oval face and framed with long, thick lashes. "Thank you."
"So what do you think of your—ah—new boss? Barrel of laughs, isn't he?"
That was definitely one way I wouldn't describe him. Since I was new, I didn't think it would be a good thing to start bashing Hale right away, so I struggled for something positive to say about the man. "He's good-looking but not exactly my type."
Vivian frowned. "He started right in with you, didn't he? Seriously, the man is about as disgusting as he can get. I mean, he sits in that office upstairs all day, staring outside at the customers and counting his money. You can always see his face pressed up against the window. His parents left him a gorgeous mansion that overlooks the ocean too. He pretends like he works, but Keanu does most of the daily operation items. Despite all the cash he's got, do you think he'd give me a raise so I don't have to eat ramen noodles three times a week? Fat chance."
"That's awful," I said.
Her eyes looked weepy as she nodded. "He hates me."
Vivian seemed too pretty and sweet for anyone to hate. "Why?"
She pressed her thin lips together in a stubborn manner. "Because I wouldn't go out with him. He humiliates me every chance he gets."
A sick feeling of dread swept over me. "Well, I have a boyfriend, so I doubt he'll ask me."
"That makes no difference to Hale," Vivian said. "He'd have to have morals first. And don't suggest I file a sexual harassment claim either. I need this job. I think of him as gum on the bottom of my shoe. Useless and disgusting."
"Ah, you must be talking about our fearless leader."
I jumped, startled at the deep voice. The chef was standing there, watching us with a bemused look upon his face. He held a pineapple in one hand and a chef's knife in the other, the phone now sticking out of his breast pocket.
He appeared to be in his late forties or early fifties with a balding head, eyes as black as coal, and a slim moustache on his upper protruding lip. Short and stocky, his stomach protruded underneath his white double-breasted chef's jacket like a small basketball. There was a huge gap between his top front teeth when he smiled, and I found the effect strangely endearing.
Vivian gestured at the man. "This is Poncho, our cook. Poncho, this is Carrie. It's her first day here."
Poncho placed the pineapple on the counter and shook his finger at Vivian. "It's head chef, Viv, remember."
"Yeah right, whatever."
As I extended my hand, Poncho grabbed it and bowed his head in a dramatic fashion.
Vivian groaned. "Cut it out, Poncho. Give the girl a break. She's already had to deal with Hale, and she hasn't even been here for a full hour yet."
"Delighted to make your acquaintance," Poncho said. His dark eyes regarded me with interest for a moment. Then he turned and thrust his knife into the pineapple. Afterward, he pressed his fingers to his lips with a satisfied sigh. "Ah, do I know how to pick 'em or what? Look how juicy this one is!"
I took a step backward and bumped into Vivian behind me. She patted my arm reassuringly. "You don't have to worry about him. He's a bit strange but overall, harmless."
"We are all a bit like that here." Poncho glanced over at Vivian. "You heard about Carmen?"
"Yeah. It wouldn't surprise me if I'm next on the chopping block." Vivian's voice quivered slightly as she glanced toward the stairs.
"Girls, you have to try some." Poncho handed us each a piece of the fruit. "It's to die for."
We both sampled the pineapple. It was my first time trying the tropical fruit since I had arrived on the island, and my mouth practically burst from the flavor. I savored it for as long as I could, rolling the sweet, juicy taste around on my tongue. In no way did it even come close to the canned variety I'd always eaten back home. "Wow, this is delicious."
Poncho giggled like a schoolgirl as he plunged the knife into the pineapple again. He continued chopping away to his own beat, as if playing the drums. It was obvious he was enjoying himself. "I've thought about doing this to a certain person. Bet you can't guess who?"
"There's a reason this place is called Loco Moco," Vivian whispered in my ear. "You have to be loco to work here."
I was already starting to figure that out.
DEATH OF THE BIG KAHUNA
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Sprinkled in Malice Page 22
