Chapter 10
Eddie got three stitches at the Kona Urgent Care. Zara’s friend Buzzy, a smiling woman with coppery skin imprinted with intricate tattoos, suggested that Lincoln get checked out too.
He declined the offer for two reasons. One, if she ran Jim Brennan’s medical history, she might discover that he didn’t actually exist. Two, he’d had enough brain scans to last a lifetime.
After everything that had happened in the jungle, he’d checked himself into a neurology center for the most thorough examination known to mankind.
“I’m just here for Eddie. I’m good,” he assured her.
“If it’s a question of health insurance, we operate on a sliding scale here and I know a few billing tricks. Don’t tell my boss.” She gave him an exaggerated secret wink.
Since he’d never thought about health insurance in his life, he just said, “Don’t risk your job for me. I’m a gardener. Falling branches are a job hazard.”
He stayed in the waiting room sipping on coffee while Eddie got his stitches. As he texted Zara an update, he overheard snippets of the nurses’ conversation. Something about “outstanding balance” and “Aloha Care.”
Did Zara have an unpaid debt at the Urgent Care?
He wouldn’t be surprised, the way Eddie kept putting himself in harm’s way.
Before the jacaranda tree incident, he’d personally witnessed Eddie chasing a mouse and cutting his hand on garden shears.
He wished he could google Aloha Care, but his burner phone didn’t have internet capability.
Three stitches? Zara texted. His record is six, so not too bad. How’s he handling it?
He’s in with Buzzy now. She says hello and that you should hit a banyan soon. I have no idea what that means. Some kind of tree revenge?
Snort emoji. Banyans is a very famous local surf beach. We’re surf buds. You’re not from around here, are you?
Oops. If he’d had a smart phone, he could have googled that before putting his foot in his mouth.
He deflected. Is it that obvious?
I hope you didn’t move here for the job. Raoul came tearing through here. I’m pretty sure you’re fired. So sorry.
That could be a problem, but maybe not. It was becoming clear that the CHUM was not on the premises of the Royal Leilani Resort. Time for him to move to Plan B, which he still needed to flesh out.
It involved finding Rory Baker, and possibly Mathilda Wheeler. Tonight, he’d go back to his suite at the Seaside Paradise and check in with his investigators.
It’s fine, he texted Zara. The pay is laughable.
Really? The Royal Leilani is known for paying more than most resorts around here. That’s why I’m so keen to stay on.
God, really? When they’d told him what the pay was, he’d nearly laughed in their faces. It seemed absurd that anyone could live on such an amount. He underlined and added exclamation points to his mental note about giving all his staff a raise.
If he ever got out of this mess, obviously. If he couldn’t find the CHUM, his financial future would be pretty bleak.
I’m going to need a drink after all this is over, Zara texted. Want to come over? No late nights because I have to work tomorrow. But I’d like to thank you with Thai takeout and a glass of wine. My go-to comfort meal.
Irresistible invitation, he decided. It wasn’t as if he had much waiting for him at the Seaside Paradise aside from his laptop.
Besides, he was curious to see what Zara’s place was like.
He’d never known anyone like her in his life.
Was there anyone else like her? She had such a free-spirited quality to her, and yet she was so dedicated to her siblings.
The contradiction fascinated him. Not to mention that she was magnetically beautiful, with the kind of aura that drew his attention and didn’t let it go.
He noticed that same dynamic when he was sitting on her couch a few hours later while she uncorked a bottle of wine.
It was such a pleasure to watch her that moments ticked past and he realized he was still doing it.
She’d kicked her shoes off onto the disorderly pile of footwear just inside the door, and was now barefoot.
She’d changed from her concierge uniform into a pair of board shorts that hugged her hips.
Her halter top tied behind the neck and waist, and showed off her sleek, tanned back.
With her hair loose from its tight knot, it flowed in long curls over her shoulders.
She looked like a mermaid, if a mermaid knew how to work a corkscrew like a professional sommelier.
“Bartender,” she explained as she handed him a glass of Chardonnay. “Paid my way through college.”
“Where was that?” And why was a college graduate working as a hotel concierge?
“California. Santa Barbara campus,” she added when he waited for more details.
“That’s a good school.”
The surprise in his voice had her raising an eyebrow. “You’re surprised?”
“Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Because I’m working at the resort?” She shrugged and sat down tailor-style in the armchair facing him. “You do what you gotta do. Anyway, I never graduated. Ran out of money, and I missed the island. Why are you working there?”
The sudden shift to him being on the hot seat startled him. “Apparently I’m not working there anymore. Got a message that I won’t be needed tomorrow, or ever.”
“I’m really sorry about that.” Her eyes, wide and slightly tilted, met his over the rim of her glass. Her eyes are full of dreams, he thought, nonsensically. As if she could see into another world.
Get a grip, he scolded himself. She’s a pretty girl, but that didn’t mean he had to make a fool of himself.
“I tried so hard to make him change his mind,” Zara went on.
“I told him that you’d saved a little boy.
I even tried blackmail because I happen to know that he’s cheating on his girlfriend.
Unfortunately I’m behind on my gossip because it turned out they already broke up.
I might have made things worse, and I’m on thin ice myself there. I’m sorry.”
He waved her off. “It really doesn’t matter. Don’t beat yourself up about it. I’m glad I was there for Eddie.”
Honestly, it had shocked him how good it made him feel.
He’d never taken anyone to an emergency room before.
It turned out that helping Eddie—with his gap-toothed smile and goofy chatter—had warmed his heart.
How many other parts of life had he missed while he’d been focused on building his business empire?
“I’m glad, too, and it actually gave me an idea.” A light sparked in her eyes. He got the feeling that her family probably knew that look, the “I have an idea you’re either going to love or hate” look. “But first, I have some questions for you. Do you have kids of your own?”
“No.”
“A wife? A family?”
“Not at the moment.”
She raised one eyebrow.
“Two ex-wives,” he answered reluctantly. That sounded terrible, he knew. “One was right after high school, the other was an impulsive mistake that we fixed six weeks later.”
He wasn’t proud of that. But maybe he just wasn’t cut out for intimate relationships. A man had to be honest about his strengths and weaknesses.
“I wasn’t a good husband,” he told Zara now. Her eyes were getting wider with each word he spoke. “But for the record, I never cheated or did anything harmful. I just…didn’t pay enough attention.” He took refuge in a long sip of wine.
Not the best wine he’d ever tasted, but it was light and crisp, with an undertone of apple.
And forevermore, it would remind him of sitting here in this casually messy living room with several brightly colored surfboards propped in one corner and a pile of DVDs stacked next to a bowl of fresh tangerines on the kitchen island.
One wall was covered with swirls of purple paint.
A set of “Go Fish” featuring the names of Hawaiian fish was strewn across the coffee table, which was made of carved koa wood.
“I’m not one to judge,” Zara was saying. “I’m lucky if I can make a relationship last six months. But for my purposes, it’s sort of convenient that you’re currently between marriages.”
He lifted an eyebrow at her. “How, exactly, is my marital history convenient for you?”
She laughed as she sipped her wine. “Wow, you sound so suspicious. Don’t worry, I’m not about to propose. Well, I am, actually, in a way. I have a proposal that might solve a problem for both of us.”
“I have a problem?”
“Didn’t you just lose your job?”
Oh, right. He should probably pretend to care more about that. “Yes. I am unemployed, that’s true. Employment-challenged.”
Another smile flitted across her face. “You know, I’ve been trying to figure you out. You’re not a typical resort gardener, are you?”
“Um…” Again he went for the wine, but she waited patiently while he swallowed. “Never believe in stereotypes.”
“The only stereotype I’m talking about is that most gardeners know about plants,” she said dryly. “They don’t have to borrow people’s phones to look up plumeria.”
Damn that Benito. He should never have trusted him. He took another big mouthful of wine.
“Don’t worry, your secret is safe.” She waved her hand as if it was a magic wand making all his troubles disappear.
“Which secret?” he said warily. That wine was going to his head and giving everything a light and pleasant blur. He was afraid he might blurt out something he didn’t want her to know.
“The reason why you’re so cagey and don’t have a car or much knowledge about gardens. I figured it out. You just got out of prison, didn’t you?”