I step inside my new home.
CHAPTER THREE
The unit is exactly what I pictured. Well, aside from the whole having to share it with someone aspect, though I tell myself I'll get over it soon.
There are tiles on the floor and thatched walls that look like they're made from palm leaves. The whole place is open air except for the bathroom to the right and a bedroom to the left.
“So Kate is in there,” Charlie says, hauling the suitcases across the floor and nodding to the door. “And let me tell you, she's one lucky bitch. I think Shephard has a soft spot for her because that's the only room any of us have.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, following him into the apartment. There's a kitchen on one side, small and a little dated but totally functional, and a large living area with rattan and bamboo furniture with palm-printed cushions. In front of that is an expansive balcony with chairs and a table, the view stretching across a wide lawn and finally to the ocean. Many of the condos face inward to the grassy area, like a courtyard, giving us all a partial ocean view at the very least, palm trees swaying in the wind. Even though the screen door is closed, I can hear the ocean clear as day, the chatter of a couple as they walk across the lawn in their bare feet, towels draped over their shoulders.
“This is your room,” he says nodding to a sectioned off corner of the living room, tucked behind the kitchen. It's only half-walled in, so there's no real door, just some partitions you can slide across.
“Uh, this is a room?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he says, running his hand over his jaw and nodding like he's contemplating it for the first time. “In the hotel units, this is where the kids sleep, I guess. It's where I sleep in mine. The bed is really comfortable, by the way. And Johnny doesn't get his own room like Kate does, it's kind of done up the same way as this. No privacy for anyone.” He runs his hands along the edge of the partition. “Except Kate. Like I said, she’s one lucky bitch. She can have all the dudes over and you probably won't hear a thing.” His eyes seem to darken momentarily at that before he snaps out of it and gives me a cheeky grin. “You, on the other hand…”
I roll my eyes. “I don't think that will be a problem,” I tell him. I'd pretty much sworn off men since I left Piccolo.
“Even so,” he says. “You're better off staying the night elsewhere if you want to get laid. Though since Kate actually has a door, it shouldn't be a problem.”
“Doesn't it bother you to live like you’re in a dorm?” I ask him, folding my arms. “I mean, how old are you anyway?”
“Twenty-six,” he says, raising his chin in defense. “And, this isn't living in a dorm room. This is just an affordable way to live in paradise. Not everyone can be rich here. The rich get the private condos and houses. We ain't rich and it ain't about that anyway. This is about really living life and finding out what's important. What's important to you, Ronnie?”
I'm half-pleased that he's called me by my nickname and half-ashamed that I sounded so snooty. I swallow hard. “I don't know what's important anymore,” I admit, my voice dropping a register. “I just know that whatever it is, it’s not back at home.”
He purses his lips, eyes studying me. “Hmmm. Honest. I like that. Well, maybe that's why you're here. To find out what's important. What makes your soul sing. I told you this place would shake you up, didn't I?”
“You did.”
He jerks his head into the room. “Anyway, you do have your own private bathroom, so if you must get busy, you can get busy in there. I can't tell you how many dates have ended up with a blow-job in the loo.”
“All right, Charlie, that's enough,” I tell him. “Or is it N' Sync?”
He scoffs. “I guess you heard Shephard dole out that one.”
“Is that one of your nicknames?”
“One of them,” he says. “Take care, I'll see you in a bit.”
And with that Charlie leaves, while I ponder if the N' Sync comment is over his spiky hair or something else. He looks more like a surfing god than a boy-band member but I guess the best nicknames are the ones we don't suit. Or want.
With Charlie gone, for the first time in twenty-four hours, I am well and truly alone.
I'm not even sure what to do. Logan had said he was coming to get me for a tour but I don't know if I have enough time to shower or not. So I stand here for a few moments, moments that stretch into minutes, while I try and absorb everything that's just happened.
Here I am in Kauai, in my new home, and not only do I have no idea what to expect, I have no idea if I'm ready to start working with Logan. I mean, he is, was, my brother-in-law, and even though Juliet died two years ago, he's somehow still family, whether I want him to be or not.
And I don’t.
I just wish I felt something toward him other than . . . well, everything I feel toward him. The biggest one of all is resentment. I can't help but feel a hot fist of anger in my chest every time I think about the way he wronged Juliet. Even though I'd never confronted him about it, we all knew the truth, and that horrible dilemma that Juliet was living with in the months leading up to her death.
Even though she was hit by a drunk driver and her car plunged over the side of the cliff and onto the rocks below, I can't help but feel it's Logan's fault. Maybe if Juliet hadn't been so distraught by everything that was happening in her life, she would have been more aware, more on the ball. Maybe she would have survived. Corrected the car before it went over. I mean, it was Juliet Locke for crying out loud, my sister, the girl that could never do wrong, the girl who never made mistakes, the girl I spent my entire life living in the shadow of, trying to become someone half as good as her.