Leaving Lana'i

by Edie Claire

  A small ray of warmth penetrated Kai’s gloom. He smiled.

  “Well, hello to you, too!” he greeted. “You must be Miss Sophia.”

  The little girl smiled even more broadly. She giggled. Then she grabbed the door, turned around, and toddled back out. An explosion of adult female giggles followed.

  “Hello, Haley,” Kai called.

  His door opened the rest of the way to reveal two very attractive women, one of whom he knew, and one of whom he had only heard about. The one he knew, a tall, lean brunette with sharp green eyes, now carried the toddler in her arms. “Hello, Kai,” she replied. “And you are correct. This is Sophie, the most wonderful niece in the world.” She planted a kiss on the child’s temple with an indulgent smile, then gestured to the woman beside her. “And this is my sister, Micah.”

  Kai exchanged a greeting with the shorter sister, a lovely blue-eyed blonde who was unquestionably the child’s mother. “So, how are you liking Maui?” he inquired.

  Micah grinned. “Oh, I may never leave Maui. We’re only supposed to stay a week, though, so things may get ugly soon.”

  Haley laughed. “I warned them this could happen.”

  Micah sighed. “Yes, well. Reality will win out in the end, I’m sure.” She reached out her arms and retrieved her daughter. “It was nice to meet you, Kai. Haley, we’ll see you back at the condo later?”

  “You will,” Haley assured.

  As Micah and the toddler departed with a wave, Kai’s temporarily suspended sense of doom returned. If Haley wasn’t leaving with her sister, that meant she had actually come to see him.

  At the sound of the front door closing, Kai turned to face her fully, his shoulders squared. You could put Haley in a backless sundress, give her a visor and sandals, even let her kiss a baby and introduce you to her sister, but if you let all that lull you into a false sense of security, you’d be making a serious mistake. Haley Olson, Esq., was nobody’s gal pal. At least, she was no gal pal to the likes of a lowly intern like him. She wasn’t even one of the staff attorneys; she was a consultant who worked with the nonprofit only on an occasional basis. Haley had made a name for herself before she was thirty as a corporate shark, then had shocked all concerned by “retiring” to a quieter, saner life of legal research for the opposing side. Gamesmanship was still in her blood, however, and whenever she needed the hit of adrenaline that only face-to-face confrontation could provide, she would pop over to EarthDefense and lend a hand, pro bono.

  Recently, Haley had taken on the challenge of coaching Kai and the rest of the staff on negotiating tactics. The topic itself was nothing new for any of them, but what Haley Olson brought to the table could not be found in the usual textbook or seminar. Haley knew how the for-profit interests operated in the real world — dirty tricks and all.

  Kai respected her talent as an attorney immensely. He also liked her as a person, because she was fair, reasonably good-natured, and had a sharp wit. But never, ever would he underestimate her. No matter what she was wearing.

  He studied her green eyes closely. She studied him right back. After a long moment, she smiled a little. “If we’re having a staring contest,” she said with amusement, “you’re supposed to warn me first. I think I blinked already.”

  Kai dropped into his chair with a sigh. “I’m sorry. Please, have a seat, Haley. I was just trying to read you. But I can’t. Your eyes are like a stone wall.”

  She smirked. “Thank you. I wasn’t born with that ability, you know. It took work.” She relaxed into the chair opposite him. “So what is it you’re trying to determine?”

  He drew a breath and steeled himself. “You haven’t been in the office all day today. Yet here you are. Did Candace call you?”

  “Yes,” Haley said evenly.

  Kai’s teeth gritted. Show no emotion. Show no emotion. This was bad. This was very bad. Candace was the top attorney in the Maui branch office. Her input would undoubtedly be key to determining who got hired at the end of the contract year. And he had screwed up so horrifically today that Candace had evidently called in reinforcements to berate him. As if being yelled at by two staff attorneys hadn’t demoralized him enough already.

  Haley shook her head. “Wrong reaction, Kai. Think about it. If Candace had given up on you, if you were toast and she’d set her sights elsewhere already, why the hell would she interrupt me in the middle of a perfectly lovely family outing, ranting and raving for twenty minutes about how incredibly aggravating it is to watch someone with as much potential as you stagger so spectacularly over such a potentially fixable flaw?”

  Kai was silent for a moment, attempting to process the rather complicated sentence.

  Haley smiled at him. “Everything’s fixable if you want it bad enough, Kai. Just tell me what happened.”

  He released a breath and relaxed a little. Haley was being terribly nice about all this. His respect for her climbed an additional notch. “Didn’t Candace already do that?”

  “More or less. But I want to hear it from your perspective.”

  Kai felt a glimmer of hope. He took a moment to collect his thoughts, then spoke. “I was asking for three concessions, and we only needed one. I wanted all three. I really thought I had a shot at that. But two would have been acceptable to the team; no one would have faulted me. The last time I tried the same methods it went brilliantly. But this time, it fell apart. I fell apart.”

  “Why?” Haley prompted. “What was different this time?”

  Kai frowned. “You know what was different. I was negotiating with a woman. A woman my mother’s age. It’s not like I haven’t dealt with female lawyers before — you know I have. I thought I could turn the gender thing off altogether. But it didn’t play out like that. She walked in and shook my hand and—” he faltered.

  “And what?” Haley prompted again.

  Kai exhaled with frustration. “And she smiled at me. A nice, pleasant, maternal smile. Like you’d get from a friend of your mother’s at the grocery store.”

  Haley sat up. “Right there, Kai! Right there. It’s your tell. She had it already!”

  Kai looked back at Haley with disbelief. “But that’s not possible! I didn’t do anything! I hadn’t said a word; my facial expression did not change as they walked in. I made sure of it!”

  “But she did see something,” Haley insisted. “Something that convinced her a maternal approach was the way to go. I’ve told you before, Kai. It’s in your eyes.”

  His shoulders sagged with frustration.

  “Look,” Haley continued. “It’s not all your fault. You can’t help that you have gorgeous big brown puppy-dog eyes with ridiculously long lashes. Seriously, women see that, and they’re primally drawn to take a closer look at you. And when they do look deeper into your eyes, they connect with that inner… well, sparkle of yours. And then they’ve got you, my friend. They know that no matter how much of a hardass you’re trying to come off as, deep down, you’re a total sweetheart.”

  Kai growled under his breath. “Do you have any idea how much I do not want to hear that?”

  Haley laughed. “Hey, don’t knock it. It’s not a bad trait to have, in other contexts.”

  Kai could take issue with that statement. But he kept his mouth shut.

  “As a negotiator, however,” Haley continued, “it is the absolute kiss of death. Which is why you’ve got to own it, right now. Let’s start at the beginning again, with the opposing team walking into the room. You believe that you greeted them with a straight face and gave nothing away. But the woman in the group, at least, took one look at you and saw a nice, polite boy who is respectful of his elders.”

  Kai winced.

  “So she smiled at you in a maternal fashion,” Haley pressed. “And how did you respond?”

  “I smiled back.”

  Haley shook her head sadly. “It was all over then. You know that, don’t you?”

  Kai nodded miserably. “Now, I do. Then I just thought, ‘Oh, what a nice lady! Thi
s will be easy!’”

  Haley made a face.

  “I know, I know!” Kai admitted, running a hand through his already-mussed hair. “Whatever they see, they’ll use.”

  “Without a twinge of conscience,” Haley finished. “You have to operate in one mode and one mode only: strategic thinking. Personal codes of conduct get in the way of that. By presenting herself as someone you were obliged to treat politely, maybe even chivalrously, she was able to usurp your strategic thinking. Just like a little bird chirping in your ear: ‘Be nice to this lady! Your mother would want you to!’”

  “I could see it happening,” Kai lamented. “I realized after we lost the first concession that I hadn’t fought it hard enough, and I knew she’d derailed me. I tried to get back on track, but…”

  He couldn’t seem to finish the sentence. Haley finished it for him. “She switched tactics? Let me guess. If I were her, and you called my bluff on the maternal thing, I’d respond with some funky I’m-offended-at-your-inappropriate-behavior-you-young-whipper-snapper-and-besides-did-you-know-I’m-a-psycho-bitch routine.”

  Kai stared. “Um, yeah. I guess you could call it that. Sheesh, is that an actual tactic? I thought the woman was unbalanced!”

  “So what happened?”

  “I fell apart,” he confessed. “I couldn’t string a coherent sentence together. We lost the second concession, they begrudgingly tabled the third, and then off they merrily went. When she calmed back down so quickly and turned normal again, I couldn’t believe it. I really thought there was something wrong with her.”

  “I assure you, she’s yucking it up in a bar somewhere even as we speak. The flip is very effective when someone is already rattled. I believe I’ve mentioned that before.”

  Kai looked away, embarrassed. “Yes, you did. But in the heat of the moment… it’s different.”

  “Yes, it is,” Haley agreed. “Which is why you need practice. You’ve got to work on getting rid of that tell and you’ve got to prepare yourself for a whole range of different situations, until the correct responses become second nature.” She stood up. “I’ll be honest with you, Kai. You handle yourself very well when you’re dealing with other men. You’re already ahead of the game there. But women are a problem. Maybe it’s because where you went to law school there weren’t enough women to practice with; maybe it’s because you’re a born gentleman and you can’t shake the Lancelot thing. I don’t know. But it’s a problem we’ve got to fix.”

  Kai stood up with her. His heart pounded. He didn’t like hearing his shortcomings described so bluntly. But there was something in Haley’s words that encouraged him. “What are you saying, exactly?”

  “I’m saying that Candace asked me if I could help,” Haley replied. “She wants me to work with you one on one, to see if I can take the world’s sweetest intern and mold him into an inflexible, arrogant jerk. I think I’m up to it. That is, if you’re game.”

  Kai stared at her speechlessly for a moment. “Candace is… paying you to coach me?”

  Haley smirked. “Candace doesn’t pay me anything. But I agreed to do it, because she’s right. You have a brilliant mind, Kai. You have all the right instincts. You’ve shown more potential for this work than any intern they’ve had here in a very long time. Candace wants to see you succeed. And so do I.”

  She started towards his door, then turned around. “I was just kidding about changing you. Changing you would be a crime against humanity. There are too few men like you in the world as it is. All you need to do is learn how to role-play, how to act — and react — on the job. You can learn how to separate that mode of action from who you are off the job. Some attorneys don’t. They’re the unhappy ones.”

  Kai smiled. In that respect, he couldn’t have a better teacher. Haley was the happiest attorney he knew.

  She pulled some car keys out of her bag. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a family party to return to. I’ll be back in the office Monday and we can work out a schedule for some extra practice sessions then. Unless, of course, you’re not interested?”

  Kai blinked. “Haley,” he said breathlessly. “I don’t know what to say. ‘Thank you’ doesn’t begin to cut it. Of course I want your help. I’d give anything for that kind of opportunity. I do want to stay on with EarthDefense. I’ll do whatever I have to do to make that happen.”

  “Good to hear.” Haley opened the door to leave. “Oh, and by the way,” she called back with a grin. “Your eyes are sparkling.”

  Chapter 7

  Maddie felt like a pup on a leash. Nana moved so slowly as they made their way up to the park the next morning, it was all Maddie could do not to run in circles around her feet and jump up and down. Hurry! Hurry! Instead, she contented herself with bouncing on her toes a little. Waking up to the sounds of the island, with myriad birds calling and relatively few cars stirring, had been invigorating. The morning air was moist and cool, heavy with the scent of pine and earth, and Nana’s guava juice was just as watered down and tasteless as ever. Maddie had enjoyed her overnight immensely and was looking forward to today’s agenda even more. Nana had insisted they wait a suitable amount of time for the old men to take up their customary stations, but now the two women were finally headed off to the bench.

  Nana smiled slyly at her. “You always were an impatient little thing.”

  “I’m not little anymore,” Maddie countered. “One out of two isn’t bad.”

  Nana laughed. “You’d better stop that bouncing before we get there. I warned you about that once already.”

  “Yes, Nana. I know,” Maddie said affectionately. Her honorary grandmother had been doling out all sorts of unsolicited sage advice, and Maddie had been loving every minute of it. Her own grandmothers were lovely women, but neither were as humorously pragmatic as Nana — and they certainly were never as candid.

  They walked past the school again and turned at the corner to walk up the sidewalk across from the park. Maddie smiled as they strolled in front of the art center she remembered and the launderette she and her father used to haul their clothes up to. She was standing in front of it, thinking that the building itself had looked shabbier in her day, when some of the same troublesome thoughts that had plagued her yesterday returned.

  Why was it always her father that she pictured herself with? She did come here with her mother, too. She could remember her mother being here. Putting the wash in. Walking with Maddie back to the house. The memories just weren’t as clear.

  “Looks better, doesn’t it?” Nana asked, catching up to her. “New owner fixed it up a bit.”

  Maddie nodded absently. She and Nana had talked about many people and many things last night, but the one topic that neither of them had broached was Jill Westover, Maddie’s mother. As many questions as Maddie’s newly refreshed memories — or lack thereof — were raising in her mind, the sad truth was, she didn’t want to think about her mother right now. She wanted to enjoy the present.

  “Well, there they are,” Nana announced, turning toward the center of the park and gesturing in the direction of the old man bench, which held nearly a dozen occupants. “Now, you let me walk up first and do the talking. And no bouncing!”

  Maddie laughed. “I promised, didn’t I?” Her pulse raced as they walked across the grassy lawn. Nana moved unhurriedly on hips that had carried her around the city her entire life and — she was bound and determined — would continue to do so until the day she was buried. Maddie kept half a pace behind, her own long legs needing to stop altogether every now and then to avoid a collision. The men on the bench noticed them at a distance and by the time the women were twenty feet away every man in the group was focused intently upon them.

  One of them called out to Nana, speaking to her in a flurry of words that Maddie tried to understand and couldn’t. She frowned to herself with disappointment. “What did he say?” she asked Nana with frustration. “I guess I’ve gotten rusty. I didn’t catch a word of that.”

  Nana eyed her st
rangely. “Just as well,” she mumbled. She lifted her head and called something back, the result of which was an embarrassed look on the face of the man who had spoken and peals of laughter from everyone else.

  Maddie, who had been forced to stop walking again, planted her hands on her hips with annoyance. “Now what did you say?” she asked. “I should be able to understand you, for God’s sake! It hasn’t been that long.”

  Nana looked up at her with a mischievous smile. “Not if I don’t want you to.”

  Maddie’s lips twisted. She hated not being able to understand. The official language of all Hawaii was English, of course. It was spoken everywhere, it was written everywhere, everyone understood it. But there was a second language unique to the islands known as Hawaiian Pidgin, which was reserved for casual conversation. It had come about during the plantation days when the different groups of laborers, all of whom were in the process of learning English, wanted to communicate with each other ASAP. Pidgin became a middle ground, a simplified form of English peppered with words from other languages — whatever vocabulary worked.

  Maddie’s classmates had all spoken “standard” English to her and to their teachers, but outside of class they dropped into Pidgin. Maddie had resolved immediately to learn it and join them, but she found that her efforts were not appreciated.

  Haole girls don’t talk Pidgin! Kai had informed her sternly.

  Says who? she had demanded.

  Says everybody!

  Why not?

  Because… I don’t know. They just don’t. Kai had looked mildly disturbed then, Maddie remembered. Probably because he knew his argument was shaky.