He didn't ask me why it was too late or what I meant. I was glad, since I couldn't give him the answer. It was too late because I was already in love. With him and with Hawaii. He was quiet for so long I didn't know if he'd ever answer.
"Charlie, no matter what I meant, could you ever actually see yourself with me? I mean, honestly. Don't you think you're a little…"
He trailed off, but I knew what he was going to say. Anal retentive. Unfriendly. Maybe inhuman. Tears pricked. I shook my head, looking for anything I could grasp on to that wasn't pain.
"A little out of my league."
The words surprised a combination of laughter and tears out of me. Really? That's what he was thinking? "Is there anyone who's out of your league, Alex?" I wiped at my eyes, trying to do damage control before it got any worse.
He stepped closer to me, head cocked. Slowly, he raised a hand, cupping my cheek, wiping an errant tear with his thumb. I was trying so hard to control myself. "I wasn't aware you cried outside of death," he whispered.
I shook my head just slightly. "I don't," I lied. Not when it signified a weakness for him and he'd know what it meant. Not when I might get scared tomorrow and try to run again. He deserved better.
His nostrils flared, and for a second he seemed angry, but then he stepped farther forward and pulled me in, wrapping his arms tighter around me. I couldn't help it. I buried my face in his shoulder, taking in the scent of his detergent, sun-warmed skin, and the organic scent of Alex—the ocean, hot sand, subtle soap. I burst into tears. All the agony of leaving, all the pain of his words, all of the things I'd been holding on to so tightly.
He held me tightly, letting me cry it out for a long time. When it faded to mere hysterical gasps for breath and sniffles, he used a finger to lift my face.
"Charlie, things haven't gone so well between us. It's been…difficult. Sometimes it's been awkward. We stretch each other in the places we don't know how to stretch. But that doesn't mean we can't try."
Maybe I could do this. Maybe he was right. Maybe loving someone and not being my mother was something I could do, and a relationship with him was like that hot yoga class everyone else was so wild about. I was too stiff. Too unyielding. My soul was like my body at that class. It didn't want to stretch in the ways the instructor wanted it to. It hurt to move in ways that my body didn't understand. Alex made me move in ways I didn't understand. Ways that hurt because I was too unyielding and too afraid to let go.
He pushed my wildly undone hair away from my face. "Can you tell Nadine you changed your mind? Would you?"
He was asking me to stay. There was no question. My motivation to get out of Aloha Lagoon had been purely centered on trying to avoid falling for Alex and for the magic of Hawaii. It was too late now. I was a goner. The urge to run was momentarily squelched. I had nothing to run from now.
"I…yes." The word made me a dreadful combination of terrified and ecstatic. I nearly passed out, my heart thudded so hard against my ribs.
He grinned. "There you go, baby. That's my favorite word."
"How do you always make everything sound dirty," I sniffed.
"It's a gift."
I was still too terrified to tell him the extent of my feelings. How incredibly hard I had fallen in just seven months. There would be time for that later if I ever got that far. We needed to have a long conversation about my parents, about my fears, about my urges to never be codependent driving me to a fear of ever loving anything too much at all. But for now, the easiest thing to concentrate on was the pedantic, the daily work issue.
"You know I still can't date a coworker. It's wildly unprofessional, and it's completely inappropriate."
He raised an eyebrow. "You're going to stay here and not date me? Is that what you're saying?"
"Yes. No. I don't know. I mean, maybe, you know. Not in public. We can date…alone." I was making a mess of this. But I couldn't be a bad example. It was against everything that was in me. I was already taking a chance staying at all. I could only sacrifice so much before the urge to panic and run would be back.
"You want to have a relationship with me, but you don't want anyone else to know," he clarified.
"Yes. Well, the other employees. I don't care about the people in town. Except, they'd just tell the other employees. So yes."
He nodded. "That's just stupid, Charlie. They heard our conversation anyway, and granted it was very vague, but at least a few of them are going to read between the lines."
For a second anger flared, but then died. Stretching. "Take it or leave it, Cho. I am the boss."
He grinned, stepping forward, pulling the lapels of my jacket until we were only a fraction of an inch apart. "That is very hot, when you get all bossy with me. It's one of my favorite things about you."
I couldn't even begin to make a list of my favorite things about him. His never-ending humor. His endless enthusiasm. His keen intelligence. Everything. I loved everything about him. Even the stuff that made me crazy.
"Take it or leave it," I repeated.
He pulled me closer, a wolfish, predatory smile sending chills across my skin and calling every single inch of my body to attention. "Oh, you can bet I'm going to take it," he growled, and there was no mistaking his meaning.
I grabbed his tie, pulling his mouth down over mine. The radio beeped. "This is Eve. Charlotte Conner, please identify."
I ripped my lips from his, head dropping to his chest. With a sigh I couldn't control, I searched for my radio and found it on the desk. Eve was one of the daytime desk clerks, and there might be a problem, despite the quiet day.
"This is Charlotte," I said, watching Alex standing there and being sexy.
"Nadine Rivers is on line three. She says the last call was lost. She needs to speak with you."
I closed my eyes and then opened them again. This is what it would mean to be here and to try to have a relationship with Alex without anyone knowing. It would be this. Over and over again. Stretching. We were just stretching. "Thank you, Eve. Tell her I'll take it my office."
"Your office, ma'am? Does that mean…you're staying?"
The hope in her voice was unmistakable. At some point I'd forgotten what flux did to a program. They needed stability. "Yes, I'm staying. Thank you, Eve," I repeated.
I tucked the radio into my pocket and headed for the door. Alex caught my arm and then pressed a quick, burning kiss against my open mouth. "This is not over," he whispered, echoing the last time we'd been interrupted by the radio.
"Better not be," I whispered back, ducking out of the room, grinning at the sound of his laughter behind the door.
* * * * *
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ALOHA LAGOON BOOKS
Ukulele Murder
Murder on the Aloha Express
Deadly Wipeout
Deadly Bubbles in the Wine
Mele Kalikimaka Murder
Death of the Big Kahuna
Ukulele Deadly
One Hawaiian Wedding and Funeral
Photo Finished
* * * * *
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Aimee Gilchrist lives in New Mexico with her husband and three children. She writes mysteries for both teens and adults. She calls her lifetime of jumping from one job to another 'experience' for her books and not an inability to settle down. Aimee loves mysteries and a good, happy romance. She also loves to laugh. Sometimes she likes all of them together.
A fan of quirky movies and indie books, Aimee likes to be with her family, is socially inept, and fears strangers and small yippy dogs. She alternates between writing and being a mom and wife. She tries to do both at the same time but her kids
don't appreciate being served lunch and told, "This is the hot dog of your discontent." So mostly she writes when everyone else is in bed.
Aimee also writes YA and Inspirational Romantic Comedies under the name Amber Gilchrist.
* * * * *
BOOKS BY AIMEE GILCHRIST
Aloha Lagoon Mysteries:
Mele Kalikimaka Murder
Birdwell, Texas Mysteries:
Digging Up Bones
Rules of the Scam Mysteries:
The Tell-Tale Con
* * * * *
SNEAK PEEK
of the next Aloha Lagoon Mystery:
DEATH OF THE BIG KAHUNA
By
CATHERINE BRUNS
CHAPTER ONE
When I was a little girl, playing waitress was one of my favorite pretend games. Together with my friend, Laura, who lived next door at the time, we'd rush around and serve imaginary people at my mother's oak dining room table. In nice weather, we used the back deck of my house. The state of Vermont has beautiful foliage during the autumn season, and we enjoyed gathering the multi-colored leaves, pretending that they were different types of entrees. The customers never complained about how long the food took to arrive, nothing was undercooked, and we always received hefty tips. And I never spilled food or broke glassware.
Yeah, only in a perfect world…
"Carrie Jorgenson?" A deep male, accented voice boomed in my ear.
I jerked myself out of my thoughts. A tall, powerful-looking Polynesian man was standing to my left, glancing down at me with a somewhat impatient look upon his face.
With trepidation, I slowly rose from my chair. "Yes, I'm Carrie."
The man looked me over without comment, and extended his hand. "Hale Akamu. I'm the owner of the Loco Moco." He gestured for me to sit down again.
"It's very nice to meet you. This is such a wonderful location for a restaurant." The café was close to the beach and situated smack in the middle of the highly popular Aloha Lagoon Resort in Kauai.
It was a perfect day weather-wise, something I had learned not to take for granted growing up in snow-ridden and rural Vermont. The sky was a cloudless blue like the ocean, waves were gentle, and the temperature warm without nagging humidity. Hale and I were the only ones inside the building, besides a server and two customers at the counter.
He ignored my comment, perhaps thinking I was sucking up—which, of course, I was. Desperation can do strange things to an unemployed person.
Hale eyed me sharply. "References?"
I swallowed hard and produced a manila folder from my shoulder bag. "Yes, they're from back home on the mainland. I just moved here a few weeks ago."
He gave a curt nod and glanced at the page while I took a moment to study him. He was very good looking, similar to Tom Selleck from his Magnum P.I. days, with thick, dark hair and eyes black as coffee without a hint of cream. I knew he was in his early forties because I'd checked him out on Google the night before. In addition to the restaurant, he owned a mammoth-sized shopping mall on the island of Oahu. Hale had inherited a vast amount of wealth from his parents when they'd died in a car accident about twenty years ago. It sounded like a horrible tragedy for a child to endure—anyone actually—and for a moment I pitied the man. Unfortunately, there was something about him that immediately registered high on my radar in terms of dislike.
Even during our brief exchange, he managed to puff his chest out in an exaggerated manner while looking down his nose at me. He clearly thought I was beneath him. As if this wasn't enough to repulse me, I saw his eyes focus on my chest for the briefest of seconds. When he raised them again and found me staring back at him, his mouth twitched into a grin.
Yeah, not in a million years, buddy.
Hale tapped his pen on the tabletop with an authoritative air. "I don't see any serving experience here."
Darn. Kim was right. I had called my best friend from back home last night, and she had advised me to lie about my experience. "Make up some hole in the wall restaurant in Vermont," she'd advised. "He'll never check."
But I couldn't do it, especially now, not with those calculating eyes pinned on me. "I-I did work in customer service."
Hale pointed at the sheet of paper. "Walmart. You worked for a Walmart. It's not the same thing."
This was not turning out the way I had hoped. It was my third interview in as many days, and I was slowly running out of options. Brad, my boyfriend, worked as a surfing instructor at the resort and had told me that the Loco Moco was hiring.
I decided to level with the man. "Please, I really need the job. I'm willing to do almost anything."
He narrowed his eyes, and a sly smile formed at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, really?"
Ugh. Bad choice of words, and this guy had letch written all over him. I heard myself babbling. "Um, I meant wash dishes or sweep the floor."
His eyes swept over me, and my discomfort grew. "Well, that's a shame."
Yikes. Yes, Hale was a pig. I was almost certain of it.
"Excuse me, Hale."
Hale glanced up. "Yeah, what is it?"
A man about my age glanced from me to Hale and seemed embarrassed. "You asked me to let you know when Carmen got back from lunch."
Hale scowled and rose to his feet. "I'll be back in a minute, Miss Jorgenson. Don't go anywhere."
As he spoke the words, I noticed how quickly the color rose in his neck and cheeks. Whoever this Carmen was, I sensed she might be in for a bit of a tongue-lashing. Hale swaggered behind the front counter on his long powerful legs, head held high and erect. His dark eyes circled the restaurant while he walked, as if afraid he might miss something, and his nose was stuck out so far I found myself afraid he might suck up all the air in the place. He disappeared through the double swinging doors with portholes, which I assumed led to the kitchen.
I let out a long, steady breath and tried to calm myself. I seemed destined to strike out again. Maybe panhandling on the beach was in my future.
I looked up to see the other man watching me with unabashed interest. Well, he wasn't just any man. This guy was as hot as the inside of a volcano.
He flashed me a perfect, gleaming white smile. "Interview?"
I nodded. "I don't think my chances are good."
"Ah, I wouldn't say that. We've all been working overtime because the place has been so busy. And Hale does not like to pay overtime." He extended a hand. "I'm Keanu Church."
"Carrie. Nice to meet you." His hand was smooth and cool to the touch.
"Likewise." Keanu had dark wavy hair, a natural tanned look to his skin, and crystal blue eyes the same color as the ocean. Although he was slim, powerful muscles bulged underneath the short sleeved white T-shirt that said Loco Moco on it. The jeans he wore fit him perfectly everywhere, and I do mean everywhere. He was tall, but anyone was tall when compared to my five foot, four inch stature.
Before we could exchange any more pleasantries, the sound of a woman shrieking met our ears. I glanced around. There was now one lone customer at the counter, reading the newspaper, and he seemed disinterested.
"I don't care what he did," Hale yelled. "The customer is always right. And since you have no idea how to treat the public, you're fired."
"You're not firing me because of that idiot, and you know it."
Hale's voice was similar to a low and angry growl. "Get your stuff and get out."
The woman's voice was menacing. "I would advise against firing me, Hale. For your own sake."
"It's Mr. Akamu to you now. And your empty threats don't bother me. You're no longer an employee here. Pick up your things and leave."
I expected more sobbing, but instead the woman's tone turned venomous. "You'll be sorry for everything you did to me. I'll make you sorry."
Hale laughed. "Threatening me, huh? Yeah, like that's the first time I've heard that line. Get your pathetic self out of here."
Keanu's expression was grim while his eyes remained focused on the swinging doors. Less
than a minute later, a woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties pushed through them, a purse in one and a tote bag in another. She turned and lifted her middle finger in salute toward the kitchen. "You haven't heard the last from me, you freaking tyrant."
Only she didn't say freaking.
As I watched the woman depart amidst a sea of sobs, my insides filled with dread. I turned to Keanu. "Why did he fire her?"
Keanu sighed. "A patron left her a nickel tip and she made a snide comment to them. Hale overheard and went nuts. It's nothing new. Believe me. He fires someone at least once a month. It's like he needs to make a quota or something."
A giant knot formed in the pit of my stomach. Do I really want to work here? Uh, no. But then again, what other choice did I have? All of my life, I'd wanted to escape from my hometown and had dreamed of living on a tropical island. When my boyfriend, Brad, had landed a position as a surfing instructor, I'd asked if I could tag along. Although his reaction had been less than favorable, he'd agreed.
Brad and I had been dating for close to a year, but instead of becoming closer over time, it seemed as if we were growing apart. He'd come out a few months ago to get settled and had recently started to ask around about a job for me. Another surfer had told him there might be an opening at the café.
Keanu broke into my thoughts. "It sounds like your chance for a job might have just improved."
Before he could say anything further, Hale pushed through the swinging doors and strode back over to us. He had papers in one hand and a giant coffee mug that read Hale Rules in the other. He placed the papers in front of me.
"Carrie, is there any chance you could start work right now?" Hale pointed outside to where the tables were starting to fill. "Our dinner rush will be starting soon, and as you might have just overheard, we're suddenly shorthanded."
Mele Kalikimaka Murder Page 23