Island for Two: Hawaii MagicFiji Fantasy

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Island for Two: Hawaii MagicFiji Fantasy Page 10

by Beverly Jenkins


  “Dog and I are sitting out on the porch. Going tomorrow to see about buying a new chopper, so I can get back in business.”

  “Were you as surprised as I was about our dads knowing each other?”

  “I was. That was pretty wild.”

  “And I was really surprised to find out your family’s in oil.”

  “Big-time, but it’s not something I advertise.”

  “Obviously not.”

  “Hey, I want the girls to like me for me, not for my trust fund.”

  That amused her. “Well, I don’t care about the trust, I just want your popcorn.”

  He laughed and the sound of it made her want to reach out and touch him. “Good to know because it’s the size of Texas and gaining interest every minute of every day according to my brother, Kyle. My grandparents set it up.”

  “So, in reality you’re a poor little rich boy.”

  Another chuckle from his end. “Yeah, but don’t tell anyone.”

  Silence filled the line as if they were both trying to figure out what to say next. The silence was broken when he said softly, “Did I tell you how much I miss you?”

  Her heart grew wings and soared. “Yes, but be nice to hear it again.”

  “I miss you, baby.”

  Anita hastily dashed away the tears forming in her eyes. She missed him so much, too. More than she’d ever missed anyone before. “So what do we do about this? Are you coming up to L.A. anytime soon?”

  “Going to be tied up this week with the chopper shopping and I promised Ferg we’d go deep sea fishing for a few days, but tell you what?”

  “What?”

  “Ferg will have to wait. Soon as I get the chopper purchase done, I’ll fly up to see you. That okay?”

  “More than okay. Bring the popcorn.”

  “I’ll bring everything we’ll need.”

  “I’m holding you to that.”

  “Holding you is on my list, too.”

  Anita wondered if this is how it felt to be in love.

  His voice broke into her thoughts. “I know how tired you must be, so I’ll let you go. Here’s my number.”

  “Hold on.” She grabbed the pen and pad she kept by the phone and, when he recited the number, she wrote it down. “I should have a new phone by tomorrow afternoon.” She gave him the cell phone number and her landline office number.

  “Got it,” he said. “Now get some sleep. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Night, Steve.”

  “Night, Counselor. Stay sweet.”

  Floating, Anita cradled the handset and snuggled back into the bed. As she dropped off to sleep, she was still smiling.

  * * *

  Ferg flew Steve down to the hangar later that evening so he could pick up his Jeep and drive home. After a promise to get together in a few days, Steve watched Ferg take off again and he headed home. Anita filled his thoughts during the hour-long drive. After the short talk with her, he missed her even more. Her parents had been an interesting pair. He’d liked her father, but could’ve done without her mother looking down her nose at him the entire time. He planned to call his father first thing to see if he wanted to hook up with his old frat brother Randall Hunt, and smiled at how small the world was.

  When he pulled up into the drive and knocked on Mrs. T’s front door, she greeted him with a smile. Dog greeted him with happy barks and tried to knock him down. Later over a shared dinner of spaghetti and meatballs with Mrs. T, he filled her in on his adventure.

  Mrs. T asked, “This Anita is the same woman in the stilettos you mentioned a few days ago?”

  “Yes.” Steve thought back on his initial meeting with Anita and how unimpressed he’d been but, being with her during and after the crash changed all that, and seemingly him, as well. “I think I want to buy a house.”

  Mrs. T paused with chopsticks in hand. “Are you in love, Steve?”

  “Maybe.”

  Their smiles met. “Then I’ll call a friend tomorrow. She’s one of the best Realtors on the island.”

  “Thanks.”

  Mrs. T looked down at Dog lying contentedly on the floor by Steve’s chair and asked, “Do you have something appropriate to wear to a wedding?”

  Dog didn’t answer, so she said, “I guess that’s a no.”

  Steve chuckled and forked up more spaghetti.

  Back at his place, he called his mother. First he related the details about the crash. When he finished, he told her that he was thinking of buying a house. She laughed and asked, “Who is she?”

  “Who’s who?”

  “This woman you’re buying this house for. You forget, I birthed you and, if you’re buying a house, some woman must’ve rocked your world. So spill it. Who is she?”

  Amused he complied.

  She responded with, “My son the hermit and a high-powered L.A. lawyer. Interesting. Will I like her?”

  “I hope so. Her father pledged with Dad at Morehouse.”

  “Oh, Lord. That’s all this family needs, more purple and gold. Can’t wait to meet her.”

  They spoke for a few minutes longer, and he ended the call with a promise to keep her posted.

  Sitting in the silent room afterward, he rubbed Dog’s head and said, “I think you’ll like her, too.”

  Dog had no reply.

  * * *

  Anita was very happy to return to work. When she entered the office, her coworkers wanted to hear about the crash, so she spent a few minutes telling them as much as she thought they needed to know before heading down the hall to Jane’s office to let her know she was back, but her door was closed and the lights were off.

  Val was at her desk however, and on it sat a huge vase of gorgeous yellow roses. “Welcome back,” Val said.

  “Thanks. Jane coming in late?”

  “No. She flew home to Minnesota on the red-eye. Her mom fell down some stairs last night and had to have emergency surgery. Because she’s in her eighties, Jane said the doctors were pretty worried.”

  Anita’s heart went out to her. “Has she checked in yet?”

  “Not so far, but I’ll let everybody know when she does.”

  She hoped the surgery went well. “Who sent you flowers?”

  “They’re not mine. They’re for you.”

  That caught her by surprise. Hoping they might be from Steve, she dug out the card. It read: So sorry. Greg. Her jaw tightened. “Did I tell you Greg dumped me by text while I was in Hawaii?”

  “No!”

  “Yes and these are from him.” Anita picked up the vase and promptly dropped them into Val’s wastebasket.

  Smiling at Val’s stunned face, Anita said, “I’ll see you at lunch.”

  Anita spent the morning working on the remaining items on the Bentley merger and fighting off the memories planted in her heart and mind by Steve Blair and his call. As for Greg, he could kick rocks.

  Later that afternoon, her phone rang. The caller ID displayed her mother’s name and Anita dearly wanted to ignore it but picked up. “Hi, Mom. What can I do for you?”

  “Greg has come to his senses. Sylvia says he’s changed his mind about marrying that other girl and he wants you back. Isn’t that exciting?”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “What do you mean, it isn’t?”

  Anita could feel a headache forming. “Greg and I are done, Mom. I’m not marrying him. He sent me flowers this morning and I threw them in the trash.”

  “The man made a mistake. He’s admitted it. The least you can do is be gracious.”

  “He didn’t even have the guts to dump me face-to-face. I’m not marrying a man like that.”

  “Oh, Anita, stop being so dramatic and listen to me. Greg is the best—”

 
She cut her off. “I’m late for a staff meeting. Tell Aunt Sylvia I’m sorry things didn’t work out. I have to go, Mom.” And she hung up.

  The phone rang again. It was Diane calling back. Anita let it ring and walked over to the window and looked down on the street. After being directed to voice mail for the fifth time, her mother finally gave up and Anita walked back to her desk. She took out Steve’s number. She wanted to hear his voice. As it began to ring, she smiled, but then heard a computerized voice say, “The party you are trying to reach has not set up a mailbox. Please try your call at another time.”

  “Who doesn’t set up their mailbox!” she yelled. She reminded herself that he was the same man who called looking at the stars going to the movies, which made her smile. She missed him.

  For the next few days, Anita threw herself into work and, at night, when she was alone, she thought of and dreamed of Steve: his kisses, his smile, the way he made her enjoy life. She found herself wanting to see the ocean and hear the quiet drumming of waterfalls. Driving home in the dark after yet another long day at work, she longed to see stars in the night sky but in L.A. that was impossible. Steve was correct about the island effects. As the days progressed, she missed him and Kauai more and more.

  When Anita came to work that next morning, she noticed the lights on in Jane’s office. “Is she back?” she asked Val.

  “Yes, but her mom’s not doing well. Jane said she wanted to see you first thing.”

  “About?”

  Val’s face was blank. “Just go on in, she’s waiting.”

  Wondering what the meet might be about and dearly hoping it would be a yes on the partnership, Anita went in. The first thing she noticed was how tired her boss appeared. “Val said you wanted to see me.”

  “I do. Have a seat.”

  Anita complied. “How’s your mom?”

  “Not well. She’s going to need long-term twenty-four hour care.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  “She fell due to a stroke, so I’m going home to take care of her. I love her too much to turn the job over to strangers.”

  “I understand.”

  “In order to do that though, I’m going to have to dissolve the firm.”

  Anita couldn’t hide her surprise.

  “I’m sorry, Anita. I know how much you wanted the partnership. That’s the bad news. The good news is this. Do you remember Mike Moran of Moran and Associates?”

  “Yes. I worked with him and his group on my very first merger for you.”

  “Yes, you did and he sang your praises for months afterward.”

  “He was easy to work with and he knew his stuff.”

  “I’ve spent the last few days making calls to find other firms to take on some of my better people and Mike wants you to come and work for him. He’s agreed to give you a partnership, if you join his crew.”

  Anita was stunned.

  “There is a catch however. Eighteen months ago, he moved his main office to Honolulu and I know you had a real bad experience in Hawaii so you might not be too keen on living there.”

  “When are you planning on dissolving the firm?”

  “Soon as possible.”

  “And when would Mr. Moran want me to start?”

  Jane handed her a business card with Moran’s logo on it. “Soon as you can. Call him first. He wants to fly you down and talk.”

  Anita looked at the card while all kinds of happiness blossomed inside. Was she actually going to be able to return? “Thanks, Jane. I’ll give him a call. How soon do you want us to vacate the office?”

  “I’d like everyone out by the end of the week. Again, I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have to apologize for loving your mother. Go home and do what you need to do. We’ll be fine.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that and I’ve truly enjoyed working with you.”

  Anita closed the door quietly behind her exit.

  Val said, “So now you know.”

  “Yes, I do. She found me another firm, though.”

  “Me, too, and it’s in L.A. so I can finish school.”

  “That’s wonderful.”

  Back in her office, Anita sat down in her chair and tried to determine her true feelings. On the one hand, the prospect of being in Hawaii was like a dream come true but, if it didn’t work out with Moran, she faced starting the climb to partner from the bottom somewhere else. She looked at the card in her hand and picked up the phone to give Moran a call.

  The call went well. He agreed to fly her to Honolulu early next week. Now, all she had to do was get in touch with her sky pilot and let him know what was going on.

  Chapter 11

  Anita was extremely happy when she pulled into her condo’s parking space. Hawaii and Steve were on her mind. She couldn’t wait to talk to him and give him the news about the Moran job, but she was brought up short by the sight of Greg Ford sitting on her front porch. Angry that he’d shown up to ruin one of the happiest days of her life, she asked coldly, “What do you want?”

  “How are you?”

  “What the hell do you want, Greg?”

  “Just a chance to talk.”

  “You have two minutes.” She glanced at her watch. “Starting now.”

  “Uhm. Well. I’m here to eat humble pie.”

  “Not necessary.”

  He looked visibly relieved. “Your mother said if I give you a few days to cool off you’d come to your senses.”

  “You think I said ‘not necessary’ because I’m taking you back?”

  He looked wary. “Well, yes.”

  “Are you doing crack these days?”

  He jumped. “Anita!”

  “Go to hell. You didn’t have the balls to tell me to my face.”

  “But that’s why I’m here. I’m ashamed of how I treated you and I’d like to apologize.”

  “Then do it and go.”

  “Will you at least have dinner with me, for old times’ sake?”

  “No.”

  “Please, Anita. If we can’t resolve this over dinner, I promise to never bother you again.”

  “Fine. I’ll be ready in an hour.”

  She brushed by him and put her key in the door. When he tried to come in, she told him, “Wait in your car.”

  His eyes went wide. She stepped inside and closed the door.

  In an hour she was ready. She made a point to put on the slinkiest designer gown in her closet: a midnight-blue number that hugged her curves like the fins of a mermaid. Her makeup and hair were fierce and so was her jewelry. She wanted to show him what he’d thrown away.

  When she stepped outside his mouth dropped. “Wow.”

  “Where’s your car. Let’s go.”

  He tried to make conversation on the way but she was having none of it and by the time they reached Zola’s of all places, he’d gone silent.

  “Why here?” she asked.

  “Your dad suggested it.”

  “My dad?”

  “Yes, I talked to him. He’s going to join us.”

  Anita stared. What in the world was her father thinking? Was he on Greg’s side after all? Stunned, she waited for the valet to open her door before she stepped out.

  Inside the restaurant, she nodded a hello to Mr. Zola who nodded in response, but she noted the very frigid stare he gave Greg as he escorted them to one of the private rooms in the rear of the restaurant. Seated at the table was her mother, Greg’s mother, Sylvia, and the Judas formerly known as her father.

  Her mother gushed. “See, Greg, I knew she’d come. You look stunning, dear.”

  “Hello, everyone,” Anita said, sitting on the edge of her chair.

  She shot her father a tart look but he simply s
miled and raised his champagne flute in a toast. She swore she saw mischief twinkling in his eyes. She turned away and glared at Greg. The smile on his face looked as fake as she knew him to be.

  Diane said, “Now that we’re all here. I’d like to propose a toast to the future marriage of Greg and Anita.”

  Anita didn’t move.

  Her mother said testily, “Anita, you’re supposed to raise your flute.”

  “I’m not marrying him, Mom, so move on.”

  She saw her father smile.

  “Anita, listen to me—”

  “Nope. Aunt Sylvia, pardon me for saying this, but your son is a ball-less wonder and I refuse to be married to him. Is that plain enough for everybody. Daddy?”

  “Works for me, baby girl.”

  Her mother blanched and Sylvia appeared ready to faint.

  “Thank you. Now that that’s straight, I’m leaving.” Anita stood. She was absolutely furious with her mother for her machinations.

  Her father said, “Hector will call you a car to take you home.”

  The anger on her mother’s face was plain, but it was nothing compared to the heartache Anita felt knowing that her mother would never be her champion. “Have a good evening.”

  And she walked out.

  She found Mr. Zola at the front of the restaurant by the entrance. “My father said you’d call me a car to take me home.”

  “Already outside.”

  “Thanks.”

  He held open the door and pointed. “Car’s over there.”

  Seeing Steve Blair dressed in a tux and seated behind the wheel of a sleek black convertible import made her jaw drop.

  Mr. Zola smiled. “Have a good evening, Anita.”

  Speechless, she walked over, opened the door and got in. “What’re you doing here?” She felt like a giggly teenager.

  “Your father invited me to what he said was your surprise birthday party.”

  “He lied. My birthday’s in February.”

  He laughed. “I’ll remember that in the future. So how are you?”

  “Wonderful now. Thanks for rescuing me again.”

  “My pleasure.”

  A smile warmed her insides.

  “So, no party?”

 

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