From his physique, he seemed better suited to a pair of swim trunks and a surfboard than a ski parka. "You were born here?"
Keanu shook his head. "I was born on the mainland, but my parents moved here when I was a baby. The island's all I've ever known. Don't get me wrong—I love it here, but I really want to see other places. Experience other seasons. You know, watch the leaves change and maybe shovel a driveway or two."
I raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief. "Believe me—you're not missing much. So, did your parents name you after the actor?"
"Keanu means 'cool breeze' in Hawaiian. My mother tried to convince me she came up with the name because of the long walks she loves to take at night, but I wasn't fooled. Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure is one of her favorite movies, and it happened to premiere the same year I was born. Coincidence?" He grinned. "Nah, I don't think so."
I glanced around at the gleaming, stainless steel kitchen. A short, balding man in a white chef's hat was stirring something on the enormous ten-burner stove. There was a walk-in freezer, two dishwashers, two three-bowl sinks, and endless counter space. The one nearest to the chef held a whole pineapple, red peppers, and spices. My stomach rumbled as the smell of whatever he was stirring hit my nose. I hadn't eaten yet today—primarily because of nerves—but now I was starved.
Keanu brought me to a smaller room that branched off from the kitchen and pointed at an open, empty locker. On the opposite side was a flight of stairs that I assumed led to an office overhead.
"You can put your purse in here," Keanu said. "We don't have locks for them. Your welcome to bring one in, but no will bother your stuff. Only the employees are allowed back here." He reached over it into a cubbyhole above the locker and produced a white apron that said Loco Moco Café on it. "Put this on." Then he glanced at my hair. "Hmm."
"What's wrong?"
"I'm not sure if Hale will insist that you wear a hairnet or not."
I made a face. "But I'm not cooking, only serving. Plus my hair's in a braid." It fell way below my shoulders. I'd been growing it for what seemed like forever.
He nodded. "You've got a point. Still, the man rules with an iron fist around here."
"Yeah, that's pretty obvious."
"It's a shame to cover up something so beautiful." Keanu's tone was so low that I barely made out the words. "I hear Viv out in the kitchen. Come on. I'll introduce you."
I followed him out the door. Did he mean I was beautiful? Oh, get a grip, girl. "Are you a server here?"
Keanu shook his head. "I'm the assistant manager, so I run things when Hale isn't around. I keep the books for Hale but also help out with serving when needed. Hale lets me make my own schedule, but I usually put in ten-hour days. I'm studying to be a CPA."
"Wow, when do you find the time?" I asked.
He shrugged. "I'm here so much these days it's getting tough, but I manage."
The portly male chef was standing in the doorway of the walk-in-freezer, chatting on the phone with someone. A pretty woman who appeared to be about my age was writing something down on an order pad. As we approached her, she looked up and flashed me a genuine, warm smile.
"Viv, this is Carrie Jorgenson," Keanu said. "She's starting work tonight. Hale wants to know if you can show her around."
"No problem." Vivian extended her hand forward. She was pretty, with delicate features and short, blonde hair worn in a pixie cut. Slim and about my height, she moved around the kitchen in a graceful manner that reminded me of a bird.
"Nice meeting you," Vivian said. "Mainland, right?"
I laughed. "Is it that obvious?"
She smiled. "I've lived in this state my entire life. I'm pretty good at picking out the imports, such as you. Mainlanders aren't as relaxed and always seem to be in such a hurry."
Speaking of which, the sound of someone running down the stairs could be heard. Hale's face appeared before our eyes as he leaned over the railing and pointed at Keanu. His dark eyes raged with an internal fire. "I want to see you in my office. Now."
"Okay." Keanu winked at me. "Nice meeting you. Catch you later."
"You too," I managed to say while Hale glanced over at me. His gaze met mine and then raked slowly over me. Instinctively, the hairs rose on the back of my neck. Why did it seem like this guy was undressing me in his mind? Pervert.
I watched Keanu casually start up the stairs, and then he disappeared from sight as the wall separated him from my view. "Is he in trouble?"
"Nah." Vivian shook her head. "Hale always acts like that. It makes him feel more important." She studied me closely. "Cute, isn't he?"
I grinned. "Are you talking about Keanu or Mr. Akamu?"
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. A
fterward, 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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Crumbled to Pieces Page 22