Hula Girl

by Ward Cosio, Lara

  “And here I was telling her last night,” Tyler says, “that I was going to introduce you to her. What a poker face you have, Ava.”

  The look on Tyler’s face is pure skepticism, telling me he’s not quite buying this whole story.

  “Well, it’s good to meet you in any event,” I say, shaking Tyler’s hand.

  “I’ve been apologizing to him all day about the fact that we kept our engagement secret, even from him,” she says with a laugh.

  “Yeah, sorry about that,” I say.

  “He understands now, of course,” Ava says.

  “I do,” he confirms. “Sort of, anyway. I guess since it was such a quick engagement, coming straight out of a vacation fling and all, you were trying to take your time sharing the news.”

  Ah, so that’s what she’s told him. Looks like I’ll have to go with it. “Yeah, some people can get funny about how quickly things moved. You know, all judgmental about it. But when you know, you know.”

  “That’s beautiful,” Tyler says, and I believe he means it, which tells me he’s a romantic, just like Ava.

  “Oh, speaking of which. Ava, honey, I got the ring back from being sized. It should be perfect now.”

  Her mouth drops open, and I can tell she has to force it closed as I pull the Cartier ring box out of my pocket. I slip the ring from its velvet confines and onto her left hand before she can instinctively pull away. The fact that it fits perfectly has me breathing a sigh of relief. It looks gorgeous on her hand I have to say.

  “You are not serious,” Tyler says, staring down at the fine piece of jewelry.

  Ava raises her now shaking hand to her chest. “It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?” she asks and gives me the side-eye.

  I laugh inwardly. Might as well enjoy all the absurdities of this thing.

  Tyler takes her hand into his and whistles. “Girl, you done good,” he says.

  “My Surfer Boy did good,” she replies, and I take pride in the fact that the style of ring I chose is something she truly likes.

  “Now you can wave that thing in Bryce’s face,” Tyler suggests, finally releasing Ava’s hand.

  “It’s not about him,” Ava says quickly.

  I suspect, though, that she doesn’t mind proving to him that she is the type of woman a man would want to marry. That she is capable of both marriage and a career.

  “And where are you taking your fiancée?” Tyler asks me.

  “It’s a surprise,” I reply with a wink. “And we’d better get going. You do have something more casual to change into, right?”

  “Yes, I do. My bag is back in my office. I’ll run and change. Won’t take long.”

  Tyler and I both watch her hurry away. I have my eyes on her swishing skirt and tan bare legs, while it seems Tyler is still eyeing that ring.

  “So, you created quite a stir last night,” he tells me. “First with your unexpected return and then with this unbelievable engagement.”

  “Yeah, well,” I say with a sigh. “I’ve always been a little unconventional.”

  “Small world that you and Ava would meet up—and fall in love—in Maui when you’re both based here in LA.”

  He’s fishing. And he’s clearly smart enough not to believe the story. But I have to respect the fact that there’s a reason why Ava hasn’t confided in him, even though they seem to be pretty close friends.

  “Just makes our story all that much more romantic, doesn’t it?” I grin when I see this explanation affect him. I was right. He is a romantic. And when his lingering gaze trails over me from head to toe, I know he appreciating me in another way.

  “Certainly makes me swoon,” he replies conspiratorially, and for a second, I don’t know if he’s talking about the story or me.

  “I’m ready,” Ava calls as she moves toward us.

  She’s changed into a black one-piece shorts and top thing. The deep V-neck of the top hints deliciously at her cleavage, and the shorts expose even more of her legs than the skirt did. The high heel sandals lengthen those lovely legs even more. Damn. How am I going to keep my hands off her? That’s what she was hinting at when she said we should back off, right? Or maybe we can still have sex but just leave any feelings out of it.

  I’m lost in these thoughts while she’s saying goodbye to Tyler. And then she takes my arm like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and we’re off.

  25

  Ava

  An engagement ring.

  I can’t believe he bought me an engagement ring.

  “Wait a second,” I say and stop in my tracks. We’re somewhere in the subterranean parking garage, going to his car.

  “What is it?”

  I hold up my left hand. “Is this thing even real?”

  He laughs. “For ten grand, it better be.”

  “Oh, you’re funny. That’s good.”

  “No, that’s the truth. Thought it best to really look the part, you know? I mean, if I were actually to buy a ring for the woman I was going to marry, that’s the one I would pick.”

  “Ford, this is crazy.”

  He shrugs. “Makes me look crazy in love, at least.”

  I laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re a Beyoncé fan.”

  “Who?”

  “Never mind.”

  I hear the chirp of a car unlocking and see that we’ve arrived at Ford’s ride. It’s a BMW M3 convertible in electric blue and so not what I expected of him. His beat-up Chevy truck in Maui is much more of who I thought he was. This .... is kind of disappointing.

  “This is from my old life,” he says, clearly reading the expression on my face. “You’ll need to know—for our mission—that this is my car and that I have a townhouse in Brentwood.”

  I raise my eyebrows at this bit of information.

  “Yeah, I know,” he says with a sense of resignation. “But I did tell you that I was an asshole for a good number of years when I bought into all this stuff.”

  With this admission, he comes around to my side of the car and opens the door for me. The thing with him claiming to have lost his way is so at odds with who I’ve known him to be that it’s hard to imagine the other version of him. Although, the car helps.

  He takes the bag containing my work clothes from me and puts it in the trunk before sliding into the driver’s seat.

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “It’s a surprise.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t really like surprises.”

  He glances at me as he sets the car into gear. “Too bad, Hula Girl. I’m not telling.”

  His smirk says he’s getting a kick out of annoying me this way, so I pretend disinterest in the drive and focus on his profile as he confidently steers us through the mid-afternoon traffic.

  “So, tell me about your day, honey,” I say woodenly.

  “My day,” he says slowly. “Well, it started all right. Woke up in bed with a beautiful woman. But then it took a turn when she told me to fuck off. Still, I went to work, got in a few hours of what I needed, and then bought that woman a ring. So, not bad, all in all.”

  “I didn’t tell you to fuck off,” I protest. “I’m just trying to be realistic about who we are and what we’re doing.”

  He glances at me. “It’s all good. You were right. There’s no need to invest in each other. Our time is limited. Once we’ve gotten through my dad’s dinner party, we’ll be done.”

  A rush of tears stings my eyes, and I turn away from him as I try to blink them back, confused by the sudden emotional reaction. But now that he’s made it clear that he is on the same page as me with thinking there’s no point in trying to be anything special to each other, it’s the last thing I want. Not that there is anything I can do about that.

  “How was your day, honey?” he asks casually.

  Grabbing my phone, I study it intently to shield my still-wet eyes from him. “Um, it was good. I had a talk with Randall, gave him the same love-at-first-sight story I gave Tyler. I don’t think he believes me
, but he didn’t question it too much.”

  “So, you have a special relationship with him?”

  I look up at him quickly, my defenses raised. “What makes you say that?”

  “Just—”

  “Because of what Manny said about me being under his protection?”

  “No, not because of that creep,” he says. “Because of how you described him to me. You said he was like family. And because of the way he looked at you at the event last night. He clearly cares for you.”

  My tense shoulders sag in relief. “Yes, he’s like a grandfather to me.”

  He nods. “How did that come about? He’s the managing partner, and you’re still a little green there, aren’t you?”

  “I’ve been there six years, and I’m a senior associate.”

  Holding up a hand, he says, “I meant no offense. I have no doubt that you’re a damn good lawyer and have worked your ass off for everything you’ve got.”

  “That’s exactly right,” I tell him quickly, firmly.

  Silence fills the car, and I look down at my phone again. Before long, my assumption that he was suggesting something improper with my relationship with Randall abates. He’s never given me any reason to think he would jump to such conclusions about me. In truth, he’s only ever listened to me with incredible generosity.

  “I, uh,” I start, “we became close, actually, really quickly.”

  He looks over at me and we get locked into each other’s gaze. Before I tell him more, his eyes soften, and it feels like he somehow understands why I’m so protective of Randall. When he reaches out and rests his right hand on my thigh, using his thumb to gently stroke my bare skin, it’s a warm comfort that I gladly accept. It gives me a sense of safety and security that I can be completely honest with him.

  And so, I confess to him the story of my interview and how I helped cover for Randall when he fainted. I’ve never told anyone that story. Not even my mom. I’ve always kept it in the strictest confidence, somehow thinking absolute silence is the best way to protect Randall. I also tell him why I’m so touchy about it. That it’s not just Manny who insinuates that I’ve gotten special favors because of Randall, that I’ve had to weave between actively fighting against rumors and ignoring them for the last six years.

  “It’s such bullshit,” Ford says and squeezes my thigh. “I’m sorry you have to deal with that.”

  I put my hand over his, linking our fingers. “There are so many politics in this field it’s crazy.”

  “Well, it’s easy enough to see that Manny’s gunning to take over.”

  “Oh, he definitely wants to take over. In fact, he was in the middle of trying a power play on Randall about the time I interviewed. I sensed that his motives weren’t exactly above-board when he came in after Randall fell. It made me want to protect him all the more. And Manny’s been stymied about it ever since. For the last six years.”

  Ford laughs. “Serves him right. But he will pounce, that’s clear. Is Randall in good health?”

  I nod. “He’s definitely slowing down, though. He doesn’t play tennis anymore, which drives him crazy. But he still gets into the office, sometimes even by six-thirty in the morning like me.”

  “Maybe we can get Manny and my father to start a new firm together.”

  I laugh. “Why’s that?”

  “They both want to push out the old men who built their firms.”

  “Really?”

  He then tells me his own secret, sharing how he overheard his father plotting to take over the controlling interest of the firm by, not just sidelining him, but pushing out his own father.

  “Thing is, I don’t have the genuine relationship with him the way you do with Randall. He’s never had any interest in me. Not until I could do something for the firm. So, while I don’t like the idea of what Senior is trying to do, I’m also not driven to protect my grandfather. It’s a weird thing to have no feelings for him.”

  “Do you have a relationship with your mom’s parents?” I ask, looking for something positive to focus on.

  “Yeah, I do. I mean, I did. They passed away, one after the other, a few years ago.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, Ford.” I squeeze his hand where it still rests on my thigh.

  “Thank you,” he says on a sigh. “It still catches me by surprise to think of them as being gone. They visited us a lot in Maui when I was growing up. My grandmother was always thinking of me. She used to send me clippings from the newspaper whenever she thought I’d be interested in something she saw. My grandfather used to take me out to fly kites. They were good people.”

  I take a lesson in how he’s responded to my condolences. He not only accepts it with thanks, but shares his feelings about them and about having lost them. That’s what he had urged me to do with my father. And when I allowed myself to do that, I did feel better. It seems the alternative is to sort of push those feelings aside and that’s not fair to yourself or to the memory of the person you lost. It makes me realize what a special person Ford is.

  Releasing my hold on him, I sit back and try to shake off this sentiment. It’s only going to get me into trouble to dwell on what a gorgeous, smart, amazing person he is. Not to mention how incredible he is in bed.

  “Finally,” he says, and flicks the turn signal to exit the freeway. “I do not miss LA traffic, I can tell you that.”

  I’d been so caught up in either focusing on him or pretending to look at my phone that I haven’t kept track of where we’re going. Looking up, I see that we’re taking Dodger Stadium Way exit, and tears fill my eyes once more.

  “Are we—” I can’t get out the whole question because I’m too choked up.

  We’re stopped at a red light when he turns to me. “Listen, I want you to know that I’m not trying to replace the memories you have with your father by taking you to a game for the first time since he passed. I hope coming back today is a way for you to honor him. To honor the closeness you had with him. And also, maybe, to experience this all anew. To create new memories and know that he would probably really like that for you.” He takes a deep breath and winces a little on the exhale, as if he’s not sure he said the right thing. “What do you think?”

  What do I think?

  I think it’s the most wonderful thing any man has ever done for me.

  I think he’s exceptionally thoughtful and sweet.

  I think that there’s absolutely no way I can keep from falling for him.

  And here’s what I feel: To hell with holding back. To hell with trying to protect my heart. Because there’s no stopping how good he makes me feel. I just want more of this. I want more of him. Even if I know this is going to end.

  Unless ….

  Unless I start using the huge backlog of vacation time I have and make regular visits to Maui.

  That’s something I can figure out later. For now, I throw my arms around his neck and kiss his mouth and his cheek over and over, all while he smiles broadly and tries not to run off the road when the light turns green and I don’t stop my attack on him.

  26

  Ford

  I’d wanted Ava to experience the Dodgers in a different way from how it had been with her father. She had said they sat in the nose-bleed seats when they came to the stadium. I’ve arranged for the very opposite. We’re not only sitting on the field level, but it’s VIP all the way before that.

  We’re directed to the parking lot right next to the Players’ Lot, and the look on Ava’s face is priceless. Her eyes get even bigger when we enter the stadium by the outfield and keep walking toward home plate, only to then head downstairs to the Dugout Club.

  “I’ve only ever heard of this place,” she says excitedly as she holds onto my arm with both hands.

  Her response is exactly what I hoped for. She’s ecstatic by the very prospect of what she’s about to see with this exclusive access. Her eyes are wide as we walk through the hallways showcasing to glorious effect Dodgers baseball history, including photos of
Hall of Famers, framed jerseys of players whose number has been retired, World Series trophies, Golden Glove awards, Louisville Silver Slugger awards, and Cy Young awards. Knowing I had a part in putting that expression of awe on her face is such a good feeling. Almost as good as when she threw her arms around me in the car and covered my face in kisses. That was some kind of shift. She had been trying so hard to guard herself against letting me in, not realizing that it was too late. She’d let me in when we were in Maui. She let me see her. Know her. But she convinced herself that being free and open with me was safe since it was only temporary. Thing is, I’m not willing to let her go. I’m not willing to act as if we don’t have something incredible together. And it feels like she’s closer than ever to admitting the same thing, too.

  I stand back and watch when she lingers at Fernando Valenzuela’s Cy Young award. The pitcher is originally from Mexico and became a hero to his countrymen as well as Latinos here back in his heyday of the 1980s. Odds are good that he was a sports idol for Ava’s father, too.

  That seems to be confirmed when she turns to me with tears shining in her eyes. “This is so incredible, Ford,” she says. “Really, it’s more special than you can even imagine.”

  I wrap my arm around her just as she leans into my chest and kiss the top of her head.

  This is a much better feeling than where we were this morning. We both know there aren’t any answers to this thing we’re doing, but I think we’re agreed on allowing ourselves the chance to enjoy it while we can.

  “You want more time here?” I ask.

  “I’m good. And ready for a Dodger Dog.”

  Laughing, I steer her to the Dugout Club restaurant where there is indeed a Dodger Dog station with special add-on toppings, but also higher-end offerings like a prime rib carving station and a full bar. But Ava walks past it all without registering the lavish displays. The sound of batting practice has lured her out toward the field and our seats.

  I watch as her hand flies to her mouth at the wonder of being this close—no more than a few yards—to the players.