Chapter 4
Hawaii is the last place I want to be. I’ve been here for a month and I am miserable. I’m not made for the surf and sand. Give me the fog of exhaust fumes that fill the city air and asphalt that meets concrete. My father sent me here to help close a deal for the West Coast firm. As a bicoastal firm, our agency handles everything any lawyer could think of, from litigation to property disputes, and even real estate closings. We look at ourselves to handle high-end properties, and that’s precisely why I am here. Typically, I can persuade anyone to do what I want.
In this section of the island, we have a developer who wants to buy it and build luxury homes and high-end stores. It’s an in-demand area, and because of it being lower income, property sales are much lower. People will move if you offer the right dollar amount. I do my research to figure out what makes these locals tick so I can figure out what they would accept. Mostly, at my father’s encouragement, I’ve been going out to a few bars and meeting local people. Getting the lay of the land.
Thankfully, this stay is temporary. Once everything is in order and closed, I’ll go back to my high-rise apartment in New York. It has floor-to-ceiling windows with minimal furniture. Clean marble counters and high-end appliances. Though I barely used any of them, they are pretty to look at. New York is the city that never sleeps, so that means you can get anything. Unfortunately, with commercial-sized deals like this, it can take months to get clear. So, I’m stuck here.
I’ve worked my whole life to be the best in my field. I was top of my class in business, and I refuse to be distracted with whimsy social lives. Everyone has a purpose and a reason. Mine is to make my clients and firm money to afford an extraordinary life.
Relationships take attention away from the goals. Therefore, I never fancied having anything long-term. It will only end in disaster and will hinder forward progress. Case in point, my parents. They hate each other. They are still married but live completely separate lives, even to the point of living at different ends of the house. I don’t want that and I refuse to reduce my standards for anyone. At least, that’s what I told myself. However, I can’t help that women will flock to my side, but they are only for a short-term release. No one has caught my attention.
I was out with a couple of girls I met at a bar and they invited me to join them and other locals to go night surfing. The concept went right over my head. Who in the right mind would go surfing in the dark? Seems reckless. I was wildly wrong in that assumption. The only light cast in the area was from a few bonfires that burned along the shoreline. In the ocean’s distance, the black sky met the water, and it was lit up with different color glow sticks. There was laughter, witty banter, and music. It’s a lively scene that I am not used to.
Then, she drives up. In a beat-up truck. Bathing suit top and booty shorts. Her sandy blonde hair, tan skin, and bright blue eyes captivated me. I had to readjust my shorts. Walking in slow motion out of a fantasy, her barely there outfit left little to the eye. It was painfully beautiful.
I’ve witnessed many beautiful women on the island, but this girl was like a mystery. We made eye contact, yet she didn’t come over. Instead, she walked with Massey to the water and disappeared into the crowded surf. I followed her coral-colored bikini and turquoise bottoms everywhere. She cut through the waves with precision and power. Her tiny body just dominated the surf. Nothing compared to her. Not even the women from the bar who were very good looking.
“Yo, that’s Leland’s sister. Collins is a beast on the waves.” One girl dropped that bomb of information.
I couldn’t believe it. It makes her that much more off-limits and more desirable. Leland and Massey’s dad have had some encounters in the past. Leland helped Massey’s dad with property transactions on the other side of the island. Some farm owners were selling their land and trying to get back to the mainland.
What’s better than seeing Collins at the beach? Seeing her twice since then. Just her presence alone has me trying to prove in some way I am man enough to even talk to her, but what’s kicking my ass is that she’s not asking. She’s annoyed I’m even in her presence. A woman who fixes cars? A tiny tan woman taunts me. More fantasies to store away. She had me following her around the garage the last time I attempted to talk to Leland about selling the shop and land. I craved for her to talk to me. To even just look at me. Those bright turquoise eyes shine like I’ve never seen before. But, goddamn, she is a challenge. That spurs my interest even more. No harm in a little island fun, right?
I agreed to be here today and work in their shop. Just like I’m one of them. A local. I wanted to see what makes Leland tick. I might get leverage on what might motivate them to sell or why Leland is refusing to sell.
“You showed up.” Collin’s voice snaps me back to reality.
My lip tips up. She was irritated with me before I had a proper chance to say hello. “Yeah, I did.”
“What the hell are you wearing?” She looks me up and down with a mix of confusion and disgust.
I glance down at my pressed pants, crisp polo shirt, and my Allen Edmonds Randolph slip-on shoes. They were the most practical choice of my wardrobe. “You said nothing fancy. This is not fancy.”
“Do you know anything about cars?” Her hands rest on her tiny waist.
I shrug both shoulders, trying to decide how much bullshit she can read. “Enough, I guess.”
I know nothing about cars. I am from New York City. Taxi, bus, train, and anything but my car. I have a license, but I haven’t driven or needed to know anything about cars. Now, in a courtroom, I can tell you which judge will favor my case and which is a bust. Sometimes it’s like playing a game of poker, and you just need to read the player’s bluff. Their court clerks will also give me a little heads up if they had a good golf game or not. That small piece of information bodes well if you know how to work it into conversation.
“Hey, Collins. Randy is here for an oil change,” Leland yells from the front.
“Jackson is here for an inspection. I’ll call Harvey to swing by.” Lawson pulls his phone from his pocket.
“You call someone else to do an inspection?” I inquire.
“We aren’t licensed,” Collins calmly states. “I’ll check over the car to make sure it will pass. Come with me Ivy.”
“Ivy?”
“Ivy League—Right?” Collins points.
“Well, yeah. But —”
“God, you are useless. I knew you didn’t know anything about cars. Come on, you can shadow me and watch what I do. I’ll have you help when I know it’s a simple task or one that won’t cost us a dime.”
“How much does an inspection cost?” I ask.
“Sixteen dollars,” she says so nonchalantly.
“That’s it?” I say, surprised.
Her bright ocean eyes roll while her body visibly cringes and turns to walk away. Once again, I follow her like a lost puppy. “Okay Ivy, take Jackson’s car and pull it into lane one.”
I grab the keys from Lawson and look over my shoulder at her talking to Randy. She’s asking about his wife, kids, and busy schedules. He makes her giggle. A light chuckle from those tanned lips has my stomach flipping.
I have to fold my tall frame into the car. My knees scrape the dashboard, and I desperately want to adjust the seat to accommodate my height, but I rethink that idea. I don’t know if I would want to piss off the tiny woman who could throw a wrench at me. It’s called a wrench, right?
I pull the car into lane one, as Collins requested, and she soon follows with a second car into the lane next to me. I watch Lawson expertly guide her safely into the garage bay. Standing outside the vehicle, I watch as they get to work. They lift the car on a lift and Collins ducks underneath, tinkering around. I duck under the car to get a better look and that’s when Collins unscrews something and a black tar-like substance sprays from beneath the vehicle.
“Gross,” I whisper.
“You are such a girl,” she tells me while pushing me out from underneath the car. Wiping her oil-covered hands on my shirt. She’s now wearing a worn and dirty jumpsuit. When did she put that on? She pushes me toward Jackson’s car and continues to gaze at her work. “Stand at the front of the car. I’m going to do a test on the lights. Tell me if any of the lights are out.”
She flicks the blinkers and lights and I respond with a thumbs up.
Collins effortlessly walks around the car, checking different parts. She carries a jack across the bay and shoves it under the side of the car. I know what a jack looks like. I give myself a small chuckle at how pathetic I sound at the moment. A tire hits my shins and I realize Collins had successfully removed the tire on her own, and rolled it toward me. She’s only slightly out of breath and for someone so small, she handles this garage like an expert. Quiet and humble about it all.
“Leland!” She screeches.
Scratch that… not quiet at all.
“Sup.” He pokes his head out from the front.
“Let’s have Jackson set up for breaks next month. These should pass inspection, but they will need to be replaced.”
Leland gives her a nod and disappears back to the front.
“Come here.” She waves her elbow toward me. Taking only what I can assume is a brake part in one hand and pointing to a section.
“Looks fine to me,” I say. I really have no clue.
“Maybe, but look at this.” She pulls a brand-new part from a box that is being held for someone else, and I can see a vast difference between the two parts. “He rides the brakes more than most, being an older gentleman and all. So, we always make sure his brakes are right where they need to be. His wife is in an assisted living facility, too. She is such a sweet woman. It’s heartbreaking to see her mind diminish so rapidly.”
Collins’ pained face brings a new level of appreciation toward her. She is a puzzle whose pieces are slowly being put together for me, and creating a masterpiece of a woman.
The inspector arrives and takes over for Collins. I follow her back to Randy’s car. She’s small enough to walk right under the car with no issues, whereas I need to duck to keep up with her. She’s fastening a bolt back where the oil sprayed. Collins once again presses her hands against my shirt, shoving me backward. Pressing a large button on a box, the car lowers to the ground. With the hood still up, Collins grabs a couple of containers of oil and refills the empty oil container. She’s perched up on the bumper to get a better position, all while explaining things as she goes. I’m not going to remember a single word. I am transfixed by her voice. A calming confidence with an appreciation for the trade.
She drops the hood of the car as she finishes, and Lawson is right by her side to take the vehicle back to the front. This is how it goes all day. In the engine, on top of the engine, or under a car. I am helping where I can, and I’m covered in grease, oil, and sweat. So is she, but I have to admit, she is beautiful.
When the day ends, I sit on a pile of spare tires. Collins’ tiny frame sprawls out next to me, Lawson is leaning against the wall, and Leland is in a folding chair that looks like it’s seen better days. Leland passes everyone a semi-cold beer, and though it’s not what I normally drink, it quenches the thirst.
“How much did you make today?” I ask.
“Today? A few hundred dollars,” Leland nods approvingly.
All that work and for only a few hundred dollars? You’ve got to be shitting me.
“Steady day,” Lawson flicks at a tire.
“Good day!” Collins takes a swig of her beer.
Am I crazy? This is crazy. People really live like this and praise a few hundred dollars?
“I have a retainer fee of fifteen hundred dollars and charge five hundred dollars per hour if I go over my minimum amount of contracted hours.” Exasperation seeped into my tone.
All three siblings stare at me with the same ocean color eyes. Matching displeasure at my words. I am feeling like an alien from outer space.
“Figures.” Collins rolls her eyes, then tips the can back, draining the last of the contents.
“What?” I challenge her.
“I’m out.” Leland bolts out of the building.
“Me too.” Lawson follows accordingly.
Both leave with dust floating in the wind as I turn my attention back to this complex creature of simplicity.
“Hey, Lawson,” Collins calls out. “Hot date?”
“Yeah.” His face burns with a fresh blush.
“Who?” Collins teases.
“Massey.” Lawson looks down at his feet as he responds.
“Where are you taking her?” she asks.
“The Hutt.” He finally makes eye contact with his sister.
I’ve never had a sibling, so I am enthralled by their connection and communication.
“Cool. Be good to her.” Collins throws her can toward the trash bin but completely misses. “Shit.”
Lawson dips, picking up the can and tossing it in the trash. “I will. I promise.”
He gives me a quick fist bump and walks out. I stare at my hand, feeling on top of the world. Exhausted but so satisfied. It’s a hard feeling to explain.
A few minutes of silence pass before Collins speaks. “What are you still doing here?”
I look at her differently at the moment. “You’re not leaving?”
“No. I’ve got some work to do, my girl,” she says with a smile.
I have no clue what it is about that hunk of junk that gets her to smile like that, but I do know I want to find out.
“Oh.” I honestly don’t want to leave. The apartment is smaller than I’m used to, and the neighbors are loud and nosey. I’ve been to the bar too many times to count, and the same girls fester around like a bad wart. “Mind if I hang out for a while?”
“No friends or girls to annoy?” she snarks.
“Nah, relationships are equivalent to messy and complicated.”
“Agreed,” she jibes.
She doesn’t say much more, which compels me to want to talk. “Usually, girls want a lot more, and I can’t give it to them.”
I need to shut my trap.
“Can’t or won’t?” she asks.
“Huh?” Confused by the question. No one has asked me that question before. In all fairness, I never spent much time with them. Quality time with a woman is new to me. Fuck. What is this island doing to me? “Well, both I guess. I’m here temporarily anyway, so a long-term relationship isn’t the smartest. I’m here for work.”
Collins stops at whatever she is doing in her car and looks at me with more confusion. She turns back to her girl and continues to her task. She doesn’t press for anything further.
“Why are you not out living it up?” I ask. I really need to stop talking.
“No one to go out with,” she coldly states.
“Surely there’s a boyfriend or whatever,” I wave slightly dismissively. There is no way she won’t have someone.
“Nope. Eventually, everyone leaves.” A bitter response with a laser focus on her car. She doesn’t even offer a look back toward me or shrug of her shoulders.
The response takes me back. Everyone leaves?