The Poi Predicament

by Lyle Christie

  “Call me Ed, as sir makes me feel old.”

  “I know the feeling.”

  “Hi, dad,” Violet said, hugging her father.

  “Hello, my little Pualani.”

  Little Pualani? What the hell did that mean? If I had to guess, I’d say it meant little stubborn one, but I’d have to verify that later when we were alone. Meanwhile, I turned my attention back to the GTR, and, as I admired its muscular lines, Ed noticed where I was looking and smiled.

  “You know about the GTR?” he asked.

  “Of course, I’m a man, and I’ve also been seriously thinking about buying one.”

  “You won’t regret it.”

  “I know. It’s a beauty, and I’m happy to see you’re obviously taking excellent care of it.”

  “Yeah, I was just about to wax it.”

  “Need help?”

  “Oh no, I’ve got it.”

  “I’m serious. I’d be happy to help, as I love working on cars, and, besides, I think properly maintaining an automobile is the hallmark of a real man.”

  “Well, in that case, grab yourself a beer and a microfiber cloth,” he said.

  There was a refrigerator against the far wall, and I walked over and found it loaded with a plentiful supply of beer along with a number of Costco overflow items that obviously didn’t fit in the main unit in the kitchen. I grabbed a Corona and looked to Violet.

  “You want one?” I asked.

  “Sure,” she said, still looking a bit shocked that I was getting along with her father.

  I used the bottle opener that was magnetically attached to the fridge door and opened us both a beer and handed one to Violet before holding mine up to toast.

  “To men and their cars,” I said.

  “I’m going to say hello to mom, then I’ll be back out in a few minutes.”

  Violet stared at her dad and blinked her eyes strangely then, oddly, he blinked back in return.

  “What the hell was all that?”

  “Violet was just telling me to be nice to you.”

  “By blinking?”

  “Morse Code. I taught it to her as a kid, and we’ve used it ever since to talk shit to each other when the wife dragged us to boring family events.”

  “Speaking of the wife—I should probably go introduce myself.”

  “Oh no you don’t. You already signed on for this project.”

  “OK, but if she gives me shit for it later, I expect you two to back me up.”

  “Deal.”

  Violet headed inside, and I took a sip then set down my beer, grabbed a microfiber cloth, and set to work rubbing wax onto the left side of the car while Ed started on the right. Fifteen minutes later we met on the hood and took a minute to sip our beers and talk.

  “So, I hear you’re a special investigator for the vice president,” he said.

  “Correct.”

  “And from what Violet’s told me, it sounds like you have a hell of a job at the moment.”

  “I do indeed, and I’m not sure how much you know, but we’re up against some pretty serious people here.”

  I took a moment to outline the case, then told Ed all that happened in the meanwhile, and he looked a bit worried as he took another sip of his beer.

  “You’re not going to get my daughter hurt are you?”

  “I’ll do everything in my power to keep her safe.”

  “That’s good to know. Now, if you don’t mind me asking, how it is that you ended up working on this case?”

  “Coincidence really. The vice president and I are old friends, and I was here to be the best man at his wedding, which is obviously on hold until I can get his bride cleared of potential murder charges.”

  “So, you currently work in some area of law enforcement?”

  “No, I’m a private investigator at the moment, and I’m doing this for Matheson because we go way back.”

  “Oh, did you meet him working for the Secret Service?”

  “No, I worked for a different government agency, but Matheson and I met before that when we were both in the military in Afghanistan,” I said.

  “Oh right—I saw that you had a Silver Star in your military record. Is that where you earned it?”

  “Yeah,” I said, with a small chuckle.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “That you checked me out.”

  “Of course I did—you’re working with my daughter.”

  “True, I would probably do the same.”

  “So, what made you leave the service?”

  “Actually, I got shot in the hip rescuing the future vice president of the United States from his downed helicopter.”

  “That couldn’t have been fun.”

  “Definitely not, as he’s a pretty big guy, and I had to carry him a really long way.”

  Now it was Ed who laughed.

  “Now I see how you ended up as the best man at his wedding,” he said.

  I shrugged.

  “Yeah, but, more importantly, he was a good guy, a fellow soldier, and already a friend.”

  “And you were in Air Force Pararescue. That’s not a place for the lazy.”

  “Definitely not.”

  “So that others may live,” he said, proudly.

  “You’ve heard our creed?”

  “Yeah, I was in the service myself after college, though I didn’t experience anything as hairy as Afghanistan.”

  “It’s all hairy when you’re the one in it.”

  “I suppose.”

  We finished our beers, then Ed walked to the fridge, opened two more, and came back over and handed me mine, and, as we clinked bottles, he eyed me curiously.

  “So, when you said you also worked for a different government agency, which one was it?”

  “The one you can’t talk about.”

  “Ah, you were a spook. That explains why there isn’t any official record after you left the service.”

  “Yeah, I did five years in the Agency, then I got the hell out and moved to the private sector.”

  “Quite an interesting career, my friend.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Well, as long as you keep my daughter safe, we’ll get along just fine,” he said.

  We sipped our beers then went back to work on the car and rubbed off the remaining wax. Once we finished, we stood back to admire our work, and I had to admit that the GTR looked glorious and shined as though it were still sitting on the showroom floor. With our task finished, however, the conversation started anew, and the topic was Violet.

  “I hope I’m not being too forward when I ask if you have any romantic intentions towards my daughter.”

  “What made you ask that?”

  “The fact that you’re here—in the Lion’s den. Plus, I noticed the way you offered her a beer before taking one for yourself.”

  “Just being a gentleman.”

  “Maybe, but as a career officer in the FBI, I know how to read people, and I definitely saw a spark.”

  “From me or your daughter?”

  “Both,” he said.

  “If only. The sad truth is that I really do like Violet, but our relationship is kind of complicated due to the fact that we’re working together.”

  “I assume you know that she’s recently gotten out of a long term relationship with someone she worked with?”

  “Yeah, I met her ex Dave. He didn’t seem to like me very much.”

  “He can be a little intense, but, under it all, he’s a good guy.”

  “I’m sure he is, but I have yet to see that part of him.”

  “Well, you have to understand that they were very much in love, but it’s tough to work for the Bureau and maintain any kind of reasonably normal relationship. Trust me, I know. I’m just lucky my wife had nothing to do with the FBI—aside from marrying me of course.”

  Just then, the door opened, and in walked Violet and her mother, and it was very clear where Violet got the other half of her excellent genetics. Violet’s m
other was very attractive and could have easily been a model with her strong bone structure, big blue eyes, and long beautiful blond hair. Now seeing Violet’s parents standing side by side, I had the entire picture of where she got her good looks. Both parents were extremely attractive, but together had made for an even lovelier offspring, as her mother’s European genes mixed wonderfully with her father’s Hawaiian ancestry, and the combination created a uniquely exotic beauty. But, such was the wonder of the Islands, where people from all over the world met, fell in love, and made beautiful children.

  “Nice to meet you, Tag, I’m Diora.”

  “Nice to meet you, Diora,” I said.

  “Are you two hungry?” she asked, in her warm motherly tone.

  “Absolutely.”

  Violet looked at me, as she was probably wondering if I was being polite or was I sincerely hungry. I had eaten like a pig at the barbecue, but it had been several hours, and I had also done a little manual labor on the GTR, so I was actually ready to eat again.

  “Well, come in when you guys are ready. I’ve made a lovely dinner.”

  Diora went back inside, but Violet stayed in the garage.

  “You want to hang with the menfolk?” I asked.

  “Yeah, to make sure you two aren’t talking about me.”

  “We wouldn’t do that—would we, Tag?”

  “Of course not,” I said.

  Violet obviously didn’t believe us and continued to quietly watch as we went around the car to make sure all the wax was properly rubbed into the finish. When we were finally done, Ed handed me a fresh beer then clinked his bottle to mine.

  “Thanks for your help,” he said.

  “Um excuse me, dad. Where’s my beer?”

  “Still in the fridge. You didn’t help wax the car.”

  “Dad, I’m your only daughter!”

  “My only lazy daughter.”

  Violet let out a low groan then walked over to the refrigerator and grabbed herself a beer.

  “Kids,” I said, to Ed.

  “No respect,” he responded.

  The three of us then left the garage and walked through the house and out to the back, where a table sat on a beautiful lanai only fifty feet from the ocean. We took a seat, and Diora held up her glass of wine.

  “Here’s to our guest,” she said.

  We clinked our bottles to her glass then settled in to eat dinner. It consisted of chicken breasts cooked in balsamic vinegar, turmeric, curry, and placed over a bed of lettuce. She called it Sunken Chicken, and it was particularly delicious and made for a perfect meal in the warm Hawaiian weather. We ate, talked, and enjoyed a lovely evening where I learned all about Violet’s childhood, and it included numerous embarrassing stories that she would have preferred remain unspoken. But, it was a parent’s prerogative to recount and humiliate their brood. How else could they retaliate for all the difficulties their little ones created throughout their childhood?

  So, I learned that Violet had been tough as nails and stubborn as all hell during her formative years, which were two traits that clearly followed her into adulthood. If someone got on her bad side or threatened one of her friends, that person would receive some prompt two fisted justice. In fact, she was sent to the principle’s office almost weekly, and, had her father not been an esteemed member of the FBI, she would have spent the entirety of eighth grade out on suspension. Fortunately, Violet mellowed during High School and turned her aggressive energies to sports and especially scholastics and managed to graduate as her school’s valedictorian. She was accepted to all the most prestigious universities but chose to remain in her beloved Hawaii, where she had a full ride all the way through grad school. She was by all accounts a hell of a woman, and, in truth, I didn’t see her early childhood as embarrassing, but rather a sign that she was an upstanding and honorable person who wasn’t going to take any shit. Of course, I wish her parents would have divulged something more horribly embarrassing such as an episode of explosive diarrhea at an amusement park, but such wouldn’t be the case, so Violet’s reputation, at least in my mind, remained intact. I finished the last bite of food on my plate and had a moment to relax and sip my beer, and Ed looked over and smiled.

  “Glad you enjoyed dinner. I hate to see a good meal go to waste.”

  “I agree.”

  We talked a bit longer, but the evening eventually came to a close, and it was time to say good night to Violet’s parents. Diora hugged me and Ed shook my hand, then we saddled up in the Suburban and headed out to the main highway, where I paused, as I wasn’t sure which way to go.

  “Do you want me to drop you off at your place?”

  “Sure, and maybe this time, I’ll let you come inside.”

  “Meow!”

  “And that’s come as in C O M E, not C U M.”

  “Obviously.”

  I drove west for about a half mile, then turned left and headed up to Violet’s home. This time, she directed me into the driveway, and I navigated the suburban up through its narrow confines and stopped in front of her garage. I turned off the car and joined her on the front porch, where an automatic sensor turned on a number of flood lights. She pulled out her key then opened the door and quickly tapped in her alarm code before turning on the lights.

  “Home sweet home,” she said.

  I walked across the living room and stood in front of a sliding glass door to see that it opened up onto a covered deck that offered a spectacular view.

  “Drink on the deck? I make a mean Hurricane,” Violet said.

  “Sure, sounds good, though I don’t think I’ve ever had one.”

  “You’ll like it. Now go take a seat, and I’ll be out there with the cocktails in a minute.”

  I opened the sliding glass doors and walked out onto her deck and saw that her view extended all the way from Coco Head in the east to Waikiki Beach in the west. At this hour it was all street lights and houses, but by day I imagine you could see the entire south eastern end of Oahu. I took a seat in one of deck chairs and listened as a rain squall blew in off the Pacific and enveloped the deck with the sound of millions of droplets hitting the roof above. Violet appeared a moment later, carrying two tall cocktails, and we clinked glasses and sipped our drinks safely out of reach of the deluge around us. She moved her chair closer then placed her feet up on my lap and wiggled her toes as a hint that she wanted a foot massage. I took hold of her delicate feet and rolled my thumb around the ball of her foot and worked my way back towards the heel before gently pulling on each of her toes. Next, I switched to her other foot and repeated the process until Violet actually moaned with pleasure.

  “Oh my God that feels so good,” she said.

  “Want me to do your breasts next, Little Pualani?”

  She smiled.

  “I see you didn’t forget my nickname.”

  “Nope, and I was guessing it means little stubborn one.”

  “No, it means heavenly flower, and to prove I’m not stubborn, why don’t you start on my shoulders, and, in the meantime, I’ll consider letting you do my breasts next.”

  “She slid over and sat in my lap, and I dug my thumbs into her shoulders and kneaded all the connective tissue like fine pastry dough then slowly worked my way down her back before pausing just above the soft curve of her buttocks. I moved my hands back up to her shoulders then ever so slowly around and down to the muscles just above her breasts.

  “It might be more effective if you took off your shirt.”

  “Really?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She abruptly slid off her shirt and bikini top, and I felt mildly dumbstruck as a healthy rush of blood began to flow to my man parts.

  “Well?” she asked.

  I placed my hands on her shoulders and began rubbing the tension out of her shoulder muscles.

  “Lower,” she said.

  I moved my hands down her back and focused on the hard to reach rhomboid muscles than ran between the shoulder blades. She sighed, and her ent
ire body began to relax in my arms.

  “More to the front,” she said.

  I reached around to the front and worked the pectorals, though all I could think about was the enticing soft tissue residing mere inches below.

  “Perhaps a bit lower.”

  I switched from massage to gentle caressing and ran my fingertips down her sides then back up, though this time I glided up the sides of her breasts and just barely skirted her areolas. As I brought them back down, I ran them directly over her nipples, and I felt both of them instantly harden and spring to life. My penis was experiencing a similar hardening, and, sensing its presence, Violet wiggled her backside against it. I took this as a likely sign that I was on the right track, and I brought each finger tip down and began circling her remarkably hard nipples, and it caused her to moan ever so softly and lean her head against me as she arched her back and pressed out her breasts. I kissed her neck and gave her ear a gentle little bite, then continued caressing her nipples until her entire body grew tense. Her breathing became shallower, and she suddenly turned around and sat across my lap and kissed me hard on the lips and began grinding her pelvis into mine. Her passion was now fully lit and burning out of control.

  With the bonfire of our libidos ablaze, she brought her tongue to mine, and we made sweet love with our mouths—our tongues slipping back and forth and side to side. Our hips too continued to grind together, and the only thing keeping us from progressing to intercourse was the thin fabric of our clothing. Suddenly, she pulled her lips free, leaned back, and pulled my head down to her breasts, thus forcing me to set to work on her nipples with my tongue—all the while acutely aware that she had said she could climax from nipple stimulation alone. Apparently, it wasn’t an exaggeration, as she appeared to be nearing climax, and it was something I had only ever heard about but never actually witnessed first hand. This was pretty fucking exciting, and I made sure to use both my tongue and fingertips to stimulate both nipples equally, and her entire body started shaking as she set forth unto a violent climax. She began calling out and continued to do so until the waves of pleasure diminished, and she proceeded to lift my head and kiss me. We pressed our lips together and touched tongues, and, when we at last parted, she stared into my eyes and smiled.