“Suit yourself,” she says, “if you want to be on a sinking ship.”
“What does that mean?”
“Don’t forget that your father and I own that hotel as much as Logan does. The thing isn’t making money, not like it was with Juliet. The moment it looks like it’s going under, we’re pulling out.”
Good lord. My parents really do hate him that much.
As if she can hear my thoughts, she adds, “He made fools of us, a fool of Juliet. He’s not family. He’s nothing. Just an opportunity for the time being.”
Then the phone crackles and like magic the call is mercifully dropped.
I’m left reeling. I quickly turn the power off my phone in case she calls back, and place it on the table, my hands braced on the edge. Even the sweet breeze coming off the ocean and the birdsong from the trees is doing nothing to shake some sense into me.
Normally I would have agreed with my mother on all of that, would have been fueled by the same indignation against Logan. After all, I felt the exact same when I landed here.
But something has changed in me since I’ve become a part of Moonwater. I can’t quite put my finger on it. It’s not just the surfing lesson last week, it’s the strange sense of ease I feel now being around him. We’re interacting more and even though it’s usually brief, there’s some kind of unspoken understanding between us, a simmering connection that’s getting harder to ignore.
And sometimes I wonder if it’s a little more than that. I’ll catch myself staring at him some days, my eyes lingering on the rugged lines of his face, the breadth of his shoulders. It’s not a conscious decision, I’m not waxing on in my head about how gorgeous he can be. But I’m still drawn to him in ways that I really shouldn’t be. There are a million valid reasons to never think of Logan that way, but the more I tell myself he’s off-limits, the more I shame myself, the more I want to do it.
It is shameful. I’ve seen the crash site where Juliet’s car went off the side of the road, I’ve felt the choking rage and regret every time the shuttle bus or Charlie’s Tacoma takes us to Hanalei. I’ve had to stop looking at it, but even when I close my eyes, I can tell we’re passing by it. It’s on a sharp curve around the bay, just east of the resort. There’s no shoulder, just a steep drop-off to the rocks and crashing waves. A cross and flowers marks the spot, and the few times I kept my eyes open to take it in, I’ve noticed the bouquets were fresh. Someone keeps putting them there and I’m too afraid to ask who. The idea of Logan being a still grieving husband doesn’t jive with the idea I have of him in my head. It just complicates things and that’s the last thing I want.
I should probably pull up my big girl panties and visit the site in person. Go by myself and let the scene sink in. It could remind me that I’m betraying my sister by even thinking about Logan in that way. It’s just a case of wanting what was hers, some form of self-validation, of feeling that I finally measure up to her. That’s all it is.
That’s all it has to be.
“Ron?”
I hear the front door close and Kate appears standing by the sliding door, her long hair spilling over her tanned shoulders, a white plumeria tucked in her hair. She looks like a Hawaiian princess. “We’ve already started.”
I frown, shaking my head slightly and trying to snap out of it. “Started what?”
“The staff meeting,” she says slowly. “Let me guess, you forgot?”
It’s Saturday morning, which is supposed to be a day off for most people here, including me, and though I know there’s a monthly staff meeting for everyone, this is the first that I heard of it happening today.
Kate sighs, rolling her eyes. “Come on, it won’t take long. It’s in the restaurant.”
I follow her out of the unit and over to the restaurant. It’s another gorgeous day, even though the mountains are shrouded in cloud and mist. No matter the weather, it’s always gorgeous and despite the looming clouds, it’s actually been blissfully dry the last couple of days.
We enter the restaurant and see everyone sitting at a few tables in the middle. I’m immediately embarrassed. Everyone is here, even Shannon the rough and tumble night shift receptionist, and they’re all looking at me expectantly.
“Sorry,” I say quickly, taking a seat with Kate beside Johnny and Charlie. “This must have slipped my mind. Who is watching reception?”
“No one,” Logan says quickly, looking at the sheet of paper in his hand. “Which is why this meeting needed to start five minutes ago.”
His tone is cutting even though he doesn’t look at me. Sheesh, talk about mood swings.
He clears his throat and starts reading from the paper. “Okay, we’re one week into November now, which means things are going to start getting more chaotic, especially after Thanksgiving. You all know the drill. You also know that if any of you were planning on flying home for Thanksgiving, you should have made those plans with me a long time ago. As it stands, Charlie you’re off for a week and so is Nikki. That means the kitchen is going to be understaffed. Veronica, Big John, I trust you’ll prepare for this.”
I meet Johnny’s eyes and he gives me an easy smile. We’ve already discussed what to do when Charlie is gone and all it means is a bit of extra prep. Thanksgiving happens to be one of the slowest times of the year here.
Logan goes on talking about the upcoming season and how things are going to get a bit more competitive because other hotels on the island are slashing their prices.