“Please, call me Ken,” Masters insisted.
Ophelia suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at Masters and Cole’s instant camaraderie.
“I’m trying to convince Dane of the merits of a partnership,” Masters continued, “joining his reputation on the mainland with my coffee farming experience.”
“Sounds intriguing. What’s your game plan?”
Ophelia looked around, desperate for an escape. She caught Leilani’s eye several yards away and made a silent plea for help. Leilani abandoned Sam to weave her way through the partygoers until she reached Ophelia’s side.
“Ophelia, have you tried the poi yet?”
“No, I haven’t had a chance.”
“You have to taste it! It’s like a rite of passage when you come to Hawaii. Excuse us, gentlemen.” Leilani whisked Ophelia away before either man could protest. She steered Ophelia in the direction of the refreshment tables.
“Thank you,” she said as Leilani grabbed them each a paper plate. “I have to confess that something about Masters makes my skin crawl.”
“You and me both,” Leilani commiserated. “But the poi wasn’t just an excuse. You can’t come to Hawaii without trying it.”
She navigated Ophelia through tables laden with traditional Hawaiian dishes: chicken long rice with ginger and green onions, lau lau of steamed fish in taro leaves, lomi salmon with Maui onion, poke which looked to Ophelia like a heavily seasoned raw tuna salad and endless dishes involving sweet potato, pineapple, papaya, coconut, fish, chicken and pork.
They passed Pele manning one of the refreshment tables. The older woman greeted her granddaughter warmly, but when Ophelia stopped to say hello, Pele turned her back without responding. Ophelia frowned in disappointment and then kept moving to catch up with Leilani.
“I think your grandmother wishes I weren’t here,” she commented.
Leilani sighed. “I’ve noticed that she’s been cooler than necessary where you’re concerned. Try not to take it personally.”
Ophelia didn’t see how she could take it otherwise. After all, Pele seemed fond enough of Cole.
“I think it’s hard for her. She knows Dane has to do something in order to save the plantation, but she doesn’t like the thought of him leaving. She loves him like a son. Especially since my dad passed away.”
“You never talk about your parents. What happened to them?”
Leilani’s eyes filled as she looked at Ophelia. “My dad died of a brain aneurysm two years ago. Totally unexpected.”
“Oh, Leilani. I’m so sorry.” If she hadn’t been balancing her plate in her hands, she would have enveloped Leilani in a hug.
“My mom left when I was little, and when I lost my dad...well, that’s when I started spending time with the wrong crowd. Dane helped Tutu pull me out of that, and she’s been really grateful to him ever since.”
“He truly cares about you and your grandmother. That’s easy to see.”
Leilani blinked away her tears. “It’s easy to see he cares about you, too.”
Ophelia looked down at her plate and chose not to respond. After all, what did it matter if Dane might be coming to care about her? Nothing could happen between them. They were destined to be in two different places, no matter how things played out.
She followed Leilani down the line of food so that by the time they reached the dish of poi, Ophelia’s plate was already piled high.
She took one look at the infamous poi and decided perhaps it was good she didn’t have much room for it. The native food was a gray mass of puddinglike consistency. Ophelia frowned into its congealed depths.
“Um...are you serious about this?”
Leilani grinned from ear to ear. “You have to try it,” she encouraged and promptly scooped up a spoonful, plopping it on the edge of Ophelia’s plate. It looked like a blob of grayish-purple slime.
“Is it supposed to look like that?”
Leilani giggled. “Sure, it’s one-finger poi.”
“One finger?”
The younger girl nodded. “When it’s a thinner consistency, we call it three-finger poi because it takes three fingers to scoop it up and eat it. But most Hawaiians prefer it thicker, so that it only takes one finger to scoop and eat.”
“Sounds...appetizing.”
Leilani grinned. “Don’t judge it until you taste it.”
Ophelia remained skeptical, but in the spirit of new experiences, she knew she had to at least sample the gray glob. She was studying the quivering substance, debating whether she should attack it with a spoon, one finger or three when a voice in her ear sent shivers up and down her spine.
“It’s not quite as bad as it looks.”
She turned and found herself looking into the warm blue eyes of Dane Montgomery.
* * *
DANE COULDN’T HELP but be amused at Ophelia’s reaction to the wobbly mass of poi. He’d experienced similar misgivings when he’d first tasted the pudding made of softened and mashed taro root.
Along with Leilani, he directed Ophelia toward a nearby table where she sat and stared at the item on her plate. As soon as Leilani’s attention was distracted by a friend who greeted her in passing, Ophelia leaned toward him.
“Can I just use a spoon?” she questioned, an edge of desperation to her tone.
“You could,” he said, “but if you want the true experience, you have to scoop it with your fingers.”
She eyed him. “You first.”
He laughed. “You don’t trust us?”
She pursed her lips, and he found himself laughing even harder. “All right, all right. Here, I’ll show you.”
Reaching over her plate, he scooped a dollop of poi onto his finger and lifted it to his lips. He licked it clean and then looked at her. “Your turn.”
She sighed. Leilani finished talking to her friend and turned back.
“Go on, Ophelia. It’s not that bad. I promise.”
Ophelia bravely dipped a finger into the gray sludge, and then, squeezing her eyes closed, inserted it into her mouth. Dane and Leilani exchanged a conspiratorial look and waited until Ophelia’s eyes opened.
“It tastes like...” She rolled it around in her mouth. “Like wallpaper paste.”
Dane threw back his head and laughed. “How could you possibly know what wallpaper paste tastes like?”
“Well, it’s what I imagine wallpaper paste tastes like,” she said.
Leilani made a face. “It’s an acquired taste, obviously.”
Ophelia made another couple of attempts at the poi before moving on to some of the other foods on her plate. Dane rose to get them both something to drink and then grabbed a bite to eat for himself. Ophelia brought out her disposable camera and took a few photos. Several times, friends of Dane and Leilani came over to say hello, and eventually, Sam joined them.
Dane found himself floating on the awareness of Ophelia seated beside him and marveling how, in such a short time, she had turned his world on its head. Having her there felt natural, as if she had been born to be at his side. And yet, Hawaii wasn’t her dream. She belonged to New York, to Paris, to her job with Reid Recruiting. And his life was here now.
No matter how he might be enjoying this evening, nothing could change the fact that his life and Ophelia’s dreams weren’t destined to align.
* * *
OPHELIA COULDN’T SEEM to stop herself. She felt a swell of emotions roiling beneath her breastbone—expectation coupled with awkwardness. Her senses were heightened with Dane seated so close to her. She tried to think of questions and comments to continue drawing him out and keep any uneasy silences from forming between them.
“There are a lot of people here,” she commented after she had swallowed the last of her haupia, which was, as Cole had predicted, delic
ious.
“When Masters throws a party, most of the community turns up,” Dane remarked.
“He must be popular.”
“The same could be said for your boyfriend.”
Her head automatically swiveled to follow his stare to where several well-dressed women surrounded Cole. Did it bother Dane that Cole had come? “Ex-boyfriend,” she corrected.
“He came a long way for an ex-boyfriend.”
“It wasn’t me he came for,” she replied.
She felt Dane shifting to watch her. “Are you sure about that?”
Just then, Cole looked up, his stare moving like a missile with a homing signal, finding its way straight to her. He held up his glass in salute, making a show of pointing at the tiny cocktail umbrella resting on the side. Despite herself, she smiled. After a couple of seconds, she realized Dane still watched her. She turned her head, catching herself in his stare.
“Maybe he came to prove something to you,” he said.
“How so?”
“Maybe he wants you to know he changed his mind, that he’s willing to find his way wherever you are. To be with you.”
She wasn’t sure if it was Dane’s implications concerning Cole or his own direct gaze that sent the warmth flooding into her cheeks. She forced a brittle laugh and shifted her eyes away.
“It’s obvious you don’t know him very well.”
“No,” Dane conceded, “but some things aren’t all that hard to figure out.”
She looked back at him, studying his carefully neutral countenance. What was he getting at? Was he nudging her back toward Cole? Did he think her ex-boyfriend would become a consolation prize, if he chose not to accept the Towers offer?
“I don’t expect you to understand.”
Dane frowned. “He loses you if he stays where he’s at. He has the chance to win you if he goes. What’s so complicated about that?”
She stared at Dane, trying to see behind the cool wall of his blue eyes. Was he testing her, trying to determine just how she felt about her ex-boyfriend? “I don’t see how Cole’s and my relationship is any business of yours.”
His passive expression flickered, and she knew she’d wounded him in some way. Before she could question him further, she sensed movement in her peripheral vision. Turning her head, she saw Cole moving toward them.
* * *
DANE TENSED AS he saw Ophelia’s attention turn, a frown tugging at her mouth. Following her gaze, he watched as Cole Dorset resolutely made his way through the crowd and in their direction.
The band had segued into a soft pop ballad, the native Hawaiian lyrics blending with a few English ones. The song was a perfect opportunity to hold someone close.
Dane realized Cole planned to ask Ophelia to dance.
A prickle of irritation ran along his nerves. Ophelia might insist that Cole hadn’t come to Hawaii for her, but Dane felt otherwise. The other man had the look of a predator about him, and while Dane knew he had no real claim to Ophelia, the idea of her with Cole still chafed.
He should let it go, he knew. He should let Cole have his chance, without any interference. After all, it would solve the dilemma of these complex feelings he was experiencing toward Ophelia. Let the two of them reconcile, let her return to New York and leave him in peace to sort out his own mess.
But watching her, seeing the tiny indent between her brows as she studied Cole’s approach, stirred his protective instincts. Before he could think through the consequences, he shifted, his arm brushing ever so lightly against her skin and drawing her eyes back to his.
“Would you like to dance?”
* * *
OPHELIA COULD ONLY blink in response to Dane’s question. Cole was only a few steps away, and before she could find the words to respond to Dane, he slipped his hand into hers and stood. She followed his lead, and as they brushed by a frowning Cole, she heard Dane utter an insincere apology.
“Sorry, Cole. I already claimed her for this one.”
She experienced only the briefest glimpse of Cole’s scowl before she was in Dane’s arms, his hands around her waist as he drew her close.
Despite her own better judgment, she leaned in, fitting perfectly against the length of his chest and torso. They swayed to the music in a rhythm of their own making.
“So what will you do?” he asked after they had been dancing for a few minutes. “If you can’t have Paris?” His breath fluttered the hair by her ear as he whispered into it, and she shivered in response.
It was a question she had refused to allow herself in the last week. “I’ll wait,” she decided, “until another opportunity arises.”
“Will you be happy?”
She lifted her eyes to his, surprised to see a deep measure of compassion there. Happy? When had anyone ever thought to consider her happiness? Her mother had always been more concerned with success. Cole had only cared for appearances. When she thought of happiness, she had always imagined Paris—her childhood, the few precious memories she retained of her father and their time as a family. Could she be happy putting off that dream again for an indefinite amount of time? Until fate and fortune afforded her another chance?
When she offered no answer to his question, he asked another.
“You’re leaving tomorrow.”
She blinked at this statement. “Yes.” She had tried her best not to think about having to leave, but now the weight of that realization settled heavily on her shoulders. “I’ll need to be back in the office on Monday with—” she trailed off, searching for an appropriate response “—with an explanation.”
“What will happen if you go back empty-handed, as it were?”
Ophelia cleared her throat and turned away from him. She didn’t want to consider the possibility so she didn’t reply.
“Ophelia.” His murmur of her name drew her eyes back to his. “I can’t do it.”
She felt all the air leave her lungs as her shoulders dropped in disappointment. She squared them up and began negotiating.
“We could arrange an increase on the first year’s salary, plus the additional bonus of use of Bianca Towers’s private jet. You could fly back here whenever you wanted.”
He frowned at her. It was a losing battle, and she knew it. But she had been unprepared for the disappointment that slammed into her chest.
“Is there anything I can say or do to change your mind?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. But I can’t go back. I don’t have it in me.”
She felt the faint prick of tears stinging the backs of her eyelids and was appalled at her lack of self-control. What would Lillian think of her if she began crying right in the middle of this luau?
She cleared her throat and blinked several times. “Don’t apologize. I can’t say you led me on. You’re far too gentlemanly for that.” She laughed at the words, and to her embarrassment, it came out strained.
“Ophelia...” He moved his hands from her waist to run his fingers along her arm. She jumped, jerking herself away.
“Really, Dane. You owe me no apologies.” She still couldn’t meet his eyes.
“If it’s any consolation, no one has ever come anywhere near as close to convincing me as you did.”
It was a small source of comfort until she considered what her mother would say. As a teenager, when she had performed in several school sports competitions, Lillian had a saying. “Almost isn’t accomplished.”
She could hear those words now, in her mother’s familiar cool tone, drumming themselves through her head.
Almost. Almost. Almost.
“I appreciate the time and attention you afforded me this week.” Too cold. She sounded like her mother. So cold, so distant.
“Ophelia, believe me. It was my pleasure.”
He sounded nearl
y as disappointed as she felt.
“I wish you the best of luck with the plantation.” She was having difficulty looking at him.
“This isn’t goodbye yet,” he softly reminded. “You’re not leaving until tomorrow.”
But it felt like goodbye. Already, it felt as if she were going away. Without him. Without her dreams of Paris and the future. She took another step back, nearly colliding with the couple dancing behind her.
“I think...perhaps it should be,” she said. And when she finally locked her eyes with his, she saw the same remorse that must be reflected in her own. “I’ll have to contact Ms. Reid with the news. She’ll need to relay your regrets to Bianca Towers.” She cleared her throat once more and extended her hand, trying to keep her voice bright. “Again, I wish you all the best.”
He looked at her for a long moment before placing his hand in hers for a cordial shake. He held on to her fingers and willfully drew her closer to him once more.
“I hope you know it was worth it,” he said, “your coming here. For the pleasure of meeting you.”
She barely managed a polite nod before she tugged her fingers from his and hurried away before the tears started.
CHAPTER TEN
DANE FOUND HIMSELF by the luau pit where the pig had been roasted and then excavated. All that remained was the detritus of scorched soil and charred banana leaves within a gaping maw of dirt.
He stared into the dark cavity and compared it to the emptiness he felt inside. He’d been certain that turning down the Towers proposal was the right choice. So why did he feel bereft and dissatisfied? Was it the likelihood that he would be losing the coffee plantation? Or did it have something to do with Ophelia’s impending departure? Perhaps it was simply guilt over how he would face Keahi, Pele and Leilani to tell them their jobs were now forfeit.
He kicked at a blackened stick and watched it break apart in a flutter of ash and soot.
“Ah, there you are.”
Dane looked up and cringed at the sight of Kenneth Masters approaching.
“I’ve been looking for you. I thought perhaps you wouldn’t come, feared you might choose to avoid me. I’m glad to see that wasn’t the case.”
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