Holiday Hookup

by Jamie K. Schmidt

  “Aloha!” a petite Hawaiian woman said.

  “Aloha,” they parroted back.

  “I’m Auntie Freda. And I’m going to teach you how to play the ukulele.” She and a helper who could have been her grandson passed out the instrument to everyone. “I bet you don’t know that all of you already know how to play the ukulele. Go on,” she encouraged. “Give it a try. Those are your instruments. You get to keep these.”

  For the next couple of minutes, the class plucked and strummed at the strings. His family must’ve paid a fortune for this trip. Well, if that was the case, he was going to learn how to play a happy Hawaiian Christmas song. And when he got home, he would treat all of them to a solo concert with his positive attitude and new energy.

  Sure enough Auntie Freda said, “Today, we’re going to learn ‘Mele Kalikimaka,’ the Hawaiian Christmas song made famous by my boyfriend Bing Crosby.”

  Blaine dug into learning the chords, and a strange thing happened. As he concentrated on getting the notes right, strumming the ukulele felt relaxing. He had a moment to grin at a picture of himself sitting at his desk in Detroit with his feet up on the desk playing the ukulele. As far as stress-relieving exercises go, this beat the hell out of yoga.

  It wasn’t as exciting as jumping off Black Rock or having dynamite sex on a rock while the ocean raged around you. But it was nice, and he had to remember to thank Selena, Mikelina and his family for the opportunity to broaden his horizons. After his first lesson, Blaine was feeling pretty good about himself. He stood up and stretched, and the thought about going for a quick dip in the ocean sounded like a good idea. He’d have to bring the ukulele back to his room and get changed into his bathing suit, but it wasn’t a far walk. Still strumming the ukulele, he headed back in that direction when one of the older gentlemen in the class stopped him.

  “Excuse me. You’re Blaine Stephens, aren’t you?”

  Blaine stopped playing. “Yeah? Do I know you?”

  “No, but I’m a reporter.”

  “No comment.” Blaine grimaced.

  The reporter chuckled. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

  “I suppose you saw me on that disastrous YouTube video.” Blaine took a deep breath to issue the apology that their public relations firm made him memorize.

  “How could I?” the reporter said. “You’ve been here all morning.” The man pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped. He showed him a video starting up.

  “How do you get cell service?” Blaine asked.

  “I’m staying at the Hyatt.” He pointed. “High speed is thirty bucks a day. Can you believe that shit?”

  “Totally worth it. I’m staying at the Maui Wellness Center. They put a cell blocker on my phone. I can’t get any service.”

  “So you don’t know,” the reporter said.

  “Know what?” Blaine asked, frowning as the video came up and he recognized his brother and Paul standing next to their prototype on the track they built in back of the factory. The actual fucking car. This was not a computer simulation and from what he could tell, this was the car they were bringing to Paris.

  Paul smiled for the camera and held up the controls.

  “No. You idiot. No.”

  In the video, Paul activated the drive command and the car took off around the track. It took the first turn well. Blaine felt a cold sweat form in the base of his back.

  “Slow the thing down,” Blaine bit out.

  It whipped around the second turn, fishtailing a bit.

  “What the hell is he doing?”

  The third turn was the car’s undoing. It had not backed off on the acceleration. It spun out of control and flipped over a half a dozen times while technicians ran for cover.

  “I’m going to kill him,” Blaine muttered.

  “Can I quote you on that?”

  Blaine gripped the neck of the ukulele in his hand and turned menacingly to the man when he got tackled to the ground from something behind him. He tried to wrestle up, but the goon who held him was hella strong and outweighed him by a good hundred pounds.

  “What the hell? Get off me,” Blaine said, struggling.

  “All right, that’s enough,” Titus said to the reporter, who was fumbling with his phone to take a picture. “Unless you’d like to surrender your phone, I suggest you leave now without any pictures.”

  “You can’t stop me. I can take as many pictures as I want.”

  “Let me up,” Blaine gritted and he was hauled to his feet, but he was still in some kind of martial arts hold that didn’t allow him to wiggle or power his way out.

  “You are now on private property and I have my guest’s privacy to consider.”

  “Fine.” The reporter stormed away.

  “Let’s get him under cover of the trees and bushes so they can’t get him with a zoom lens,” Titus said. “Right this way, Mr. Stephens.”

  “Let me go,” he gritted out.

  “As soon as you’re back safe and sound in the center.”

  Blaine wasn’t sure how safe or sound any of them was going to be when the big guy holding him let go. The three of them squeezed into the elevator and then Titus keyed it so it whisked up to the penthouse. He suddenly stopped struggling. What if Selena was still there? What if she had left her things in plain sight? He forced himself to calm down.

  “I’m all right now,” he said, as the elevator doors opened.

  The security guard let him go. “No hard feelings, brah,” he said.

  “None taken.” The guy was a good head and shoulders taller than he was and almost twice as wide. No wonder they barely fit into the elevator.

  “I think I’m going to take a nap and...meditate,” Blaine said, blocking Titus from coming in any farther.

  “That seems like a good idea, Mr. Stephens.” Titus handed him back his ukulele and then he and the security guard were gone.

  Whirling around the room, Blaine grabbed his laptop. He was going to find Uncle Rollo and they were going to drive to a cell phone store, and he was going to buy a new one with a long-minute plan so he could scream at his brother. Then he was going to go to the Hyatt and book a room where he’d gladly pay a million dollars a day for internet so he could straighten this mess out. He should have done that at the beginning of the week. Instead, he let himself get bogged down with bullshit. He was so angry he could scream. Paul was lucky he was over four thousand miles away.

  As he was searching for his power cord, he noticed that Selena left her purse here. Her notebook and her phone were next to it. She must have been distracted about her meeting with Chef Dickhead.

  He grabbed her phone and swiped it open, mimicking the pattern he’d seen her use to unlock it. Jackpot! He dialed his brother’s phone and got his secretary. “Get my brother on the phone, please.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  MIKELINA WALKED WITH Selena up to the suite where Anton was staying for moral support. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

  “Of course,” Selena scoffed. Of course not. She was braced to experience a torrent of abuse. She wished she didn’t feel so sick to her stomach about it.

  “You want me to stick around?” Mikelina asked.

  “No, that’s all right. I’ll call you when it’s all over.”

  “No matter what happens, Selena, you are an amazing chef. You’ve cooked for princes, movie stars, musicians, politicians and everyone in between. No one—no one—has ever complained about what you’ve served them.”

  “I know that, and you know that, but Anton Koslov doesn’t know that.”

  “He doesn’t matter.” Mikelina hugged her. “You are enough.”

  “I got this.” Speak it until you believe it.

  Mikelina nodded and stepped back.

  Selena straightened her shoulders and after a slight knock, walked in. Anton and a woman half his
age looked up as she entered the dining area.

  “Good evening, my name is Selena and I’ll be your chef for tonight.”

  There was a hint of recognition in Anton’s eyes, but then he dismissed her. Anton and his guest sat at what the wellness center called a community table. They were on one side and she, the chef, was on the other. They would watch her prepare their meal in front of them.

  Because that wasn’t gut-clenching terrifying.

  “I’ll be back momentarily to prepare the Maui Wellness Center’s Christmas Poke.”

  “Very well. You don’t need to speak with us to do that, do you?”

  “No, chef,” she said, with forced serenity.

  His eyes narrowed on her again, but he didn’t say anything.

  She went into the refrigerator and pulled out the sushi-grade ahi and the rest of her ingredients. Before she got started Selena wanted to talk to Blaine, just to hear his voice. But she realized in her haste to get all the ingredients here, she didn’t have her purse on her. She must have left it in his penthouse.

  Get in. Make the Meal. Serve. Get out.

  Blaine had spoiled her by breaking up her routine and allowing her to eat with him and then hang out and having fun afterward. This wasn’t fun. This was a job. She was going to prove to Anton once and for all that she wasn’t the hot mess in the kitchen that he thought she was.

  She’d taken care to buy only the freshest ingredients of the highest quality. Her knives were sharpened. She was ready to face the dragon.

  It took her two trips from the kitchen back to the table because she didn’t want to risk juggling things and having them fall to the floor. One last trip to wash her hands and grab her knives and she entered the dining room like she was on one of the television food cook-offs.

  Mikelina had already asked the housekeepers to set their plates out so all Selena had to do was serve Anton and his guest from the table. She turned on the mini burner so she could warm up their sake and also the rice. No one wanted to sit through rice being boiled, so Selena had made it this afternoon and seasoned it with her furikake flakes.

  Earlier, she had also set up the cushioned mat that Blaine had given her in front of the table. It was a comfort to not have to worry about her back complaining while she expertly crosscut the tuna. After making quick work of the fish that was caught this morning, she put the ahi in a large serving bowl with her spicy Japanese sauce to marinate while she worked on the rest of the meal. She had soaked her Maui onion in water and rice wine vinegar so the coarse chop didn’t make anyone cry and it would sweeten the taste of it. She added the onion to the fish and gave the mixture a quick stir.

  When the sake was ready, she poured them each a small cupful and left the decanter out so they could help themselves to more. Risking a glance at Anton, she saw he was more interested in his phone than in what she was doing. His friend, however, watched her avidly. Selena gave her a small smile. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to date him and the woman had her deepest sympathies.

  In another bowl, Selena dressed the seaweed with her oils and seasonings, then added a handful of scallions that she quick chopped. With a toss, she used her tongs to form wreaths on their plates. The avocados were next. Selena expertly pitted them and then used a special cutter to scoop each side into equal pieces, which she fanned out like the wreath’s bow. Turning the ahi and onion mixture over until it was coated completely in the toban djan, she scooped it on the plates in the center of the seaweed wreath. She lightly salted the edamame and then added that to the dish, as well. She topped it with crushed macadamia nuts and then pushed the plates toward Anton and his guest.

  “Bon appétit,” she said.

  “That will be all.” Anton dismissed her with a wave.

  She gathered up her cooking supplies and returned to the kitchen. Poking her head out, she watched their reaction to her meal. The woman dug in with gusto and made happy noises. Anton poked one ahi cube into his mouth and chewed slowly and contemplatively.

  Packing her bag, she wondered what he thought. As she was leaving, she stopped briefly at the table. “Chef Leif Tanaka will be here momentarily to make you his island-famous malasadas.” She looked at the young woman. “You’re in for a treat.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Please leave us,” Anton said.

  Out of habit, she headed toward the door at the command in his voice. But then she remembered he wasn’t her boss, and this wasn’t his kitchen. After opening the door, she turned back one last time.

  “Is everything to your liking?” she asked.

  “It’s delicious,” his companion said.

  “Yes, yes. It’s fine. Now please go away.”

  Selena wasn’t sure how to take that, but in the past, he had thrown the food at her and then smashed the dish on the floor to express his displeasure at one of her meals. So she guessed he liked the poke.

  With one final glance as the door was closing behind her, Selena saw that Anton had cleared his plate and was sipping on his sake while listening avidly to his companion. Selena left in a hurry wondering if love had mellowed Anton out or if he was only that much of a bastard in his own kitchen.

  She did a little dance and a fist pump. She gave Leif a shaka as she passed him and immediately headed up to the penthouse to see Blaine. Except the privacy lock was activated. She couldn’t get up.

  What the heck?

  She couldn’t even call Mikelina and give her a heads-up because her phone was up in the penthouse. And she didn’t want to risk Titus finding out she didn’t have her phone by using the lobby phone. And without her purse, she couldn’t go back to her apartment and put her things away. Annoyed, she walked around the compound to see if she could find a friendly face who would let her use their phone.

  And of course, she ran straight into Titus.

  “How did everything go?”

  “Great,” she said. “Leif is in there now.”

  “I’m glad I ran into you.” He sighed and looked around. “I don’t like doing this. Do you want to go somewhere more private?”

  “No,” she said. She definitely did not.

  “I realize you were nervous about cooking for Chef Koslov, but your phone has been draining our resources all day with all the phone calls and internet.”

  “Is that right,” she said between her teeth. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  “I know it won’t. It’s never happened before. I just wanted to make you aware of it so that it doesn’t happen again.”

  “Thank you for telling me.” She forced a smile.

  “But if it makes you feel better, if we can land Chef Koslov it will all have been worth it.”

  “Definitely,” she said.

  “Where are you heading off to now?”

  “Well, I was going to go cook for Mr. Stephens, but he has his privacy lock on and I’m not sure if I want to disturb him.”

  “That’s a good idea. Let me do it. He’s already mad at me.”

  Intrigued, Selena followed him over to the front desk. “Why is he angry at you?”

  “Long story. But if I don’t like his attitude, you’re not going up there alone.”

  “What? Why?”

  Titus held up a finger. “Mr. Stephens, I’m so sorry to bother you, but Selena is here with me. Do you require her to cook for you tonight?... Are you sure you’re up for the intrusion?... Very well.” Titus hung up. “He seems better. But if he even raises his voice to you, I want you to come right down.”

  “What happened?” Selena said.

  “Mr. Stephens had an altercation on the beach today. I can’t say more as it would be a breach of confidentiality. Please don’t mention it to him. And whatever you do, please don’t rile up his temper.”

  “Okay,” she said slowly.

  “Call
me when you’re done,” Titus said.

  None of this made sense. But this time when she went to call the elevator it came right down for her and shot her up to the penthouse.

  It shouldn’t surprise her that he was on the computer and that her phone was sitting in the center of the table, plugged in. To his credit, he looked up when she walked in. “Sorry about the privacy lock.”

  “You need to get the hell off my phone and the internet. I just caught hell from Titus for being on it all day.”

  “Sorry,” he said, reaching for the phone.

  She got to it before he did and shut down the hot spot. Scrolling through her outgoing calls, she saw they were all Detroit numbers. “What the hell happened today?”

  He rubbed his hand over his face. “Later. How did everything go with Chef Dickhead?”

  “It was strangely anticlimactic,” she said.

  “Is that good?” He stood up and came over to her. Blaine gave her a big hug. She hadn’t realized how much she needed that hug.

  “It is now.” Selena buried her face in his neck, breathing in the scent of him.

  “Have you eaten anything since breakfast?” he asked.

  “No, I was too nervous to eat. Now, I’m like, what was I even worried about. I’m not even sure he remembered me. He didn’t mention anything. You were right. He’s just a jerk from my past. I’m light-years beyond him and his snide remarks.”

  “Good,” he said. “We’re going out to celebrate.”

  “Celebrate?”

  “You faced off against your personal demon and came out victorious. I say that deserves a fancy dinner.”

  “There’s only one problem with that,” she said, reluctantly coming out of his embrace.

  “What’s that?” He kissed her sweetly and she swayed against him.

  He really knew how to scramble her brains, but she liked it. Rubbing his shoulders, she broke off the kiss. “Titus is pacing the lobby waiting for me to come down because he’s expecting you to explode like a grenade for some reason.”