Gentle Persuasion (10 page)

She took in the rigid tension of his posture and felt some of her own buoyancy dissipate. “I suppose it won’t concern you at that point, will it?”

“Touché.” He leaned back, folding his arms over his chest. “Lillian Reid doesn’t seem like the sort to take failure lightly.”

Ophelia’s jaw clenched. “My mother may appear harsh to others, but she has her reasons.”

“I’m sure she does. I doubt her life has been easy, what with losing her husband at such a young age and finding herself with a daughter to raise on her own. She must have worked very hard to get where she is, and I don’t suppose she’d like to lose what she’s gained without a very hard fight.”

These words surprised Ophelia. “That’s...true.”

“So I’m sure she’s the type of woman who can appreciate how someone else might feel the same—having fought so hard to remove myself from the corporate environment and establish myself here in Hawaii, I don’t plan to leave.”

She flushed more deeply at how he had turned the conversation on its head. Before she could think of a response, Mr. and Mrs. Inoa approached, each carrying a platter with drinks and plates of paninis and intriguingly bright purple chips which Mrs. Inoa explained were taro chips, sliced and fried from the starchy root vegetable that grew on the island. They settled everything on the table, and Ophelia and Dane abandoned their conversation as they shifted to make room, forcing their chairs closer together by necessity.

They spent the next hour eating and chatting with the Inoas, and Ophelia felt her tensions dissolve in the presence of island hospitality. Mr. and Mrs. Inoa were as easygoing and kind as their son, and Ophelia found herself relieved that they had joined their table when they had. Even Dane’s edginess thawed over the lunch until he was laughing and sharing much as he had been the day before. The sound of his pleasure sparked something deep inside her being, warming her and drawing out her own laughter, as well.

At one point, Dane caught her eye, his grin broadening, following an anecdote Mr. Inoa had shared about Keahi and his brothers. His gaze held hers, and she felt herself drawn to him in a way she had never experienced with anyone else before. For one brief instant she felt as if she...belonged. She held the feeling close until Dane eventually looked away as Mr. Inoa launched into another story. But she savored the sensation, even after it had left, and wondered what sort of magic the islands possessed to cause such happiness, no matter how fleeting.

* * *

I
T
WAS
OBVIOUS
to Dane that Ophelia had charmed Mr. Inoa. Her lilting laughter at his stories and the prodding questions that she asked must have appealed to the older man’s storytelling abilities. By the time they finished lunch, Mr. Inoa had offered to show Ophelia some of his pencil sketches of the local flora and fauna. Ophelia seemed genuinely interested, even eager, to take a look, and Dane found himself marveling at how different she was from every other recruiter he had encountered before.

Mrs. Inoa checked on the staff—the café had filled with patrons for the lunch hour as the four of them had talked—and returned shortly after Mr. Inoa and Ophelia had excused themselves to look over Mr. Inoa’s sketch collection.

Dane drained the last of his Kona as Mrs. Inoa resumed her seat, automatically reaching for the carafe to refill his mug.

“This Ophelia, she seems like a very nice woman. Very interested in the culture and history of the islands,” Mrs. Inoa remarked.

Dane said nothing. What was there to say? Ophelia
was
very nice. More than that, he found her easy to talk to and fun to be around. But that changed nothing about her true motives for being in Hawaii.

Mrs. Inoa studied him closely, and he pretended not to notice as he fiddled with his coffee mug.

“You are worried,” she noted, and he forced himself to meet her eyes, hoping his expression remained neutral.

“Now, why would I be worried?”

Mrs. Inoa clucked her tongue. “Have you forgotten that I have been where you are? Facing the struggle of keeping a coffee plantation running without the necessary funds?”

He couldn’t meet her gaze after that— He looked away, his own eyes roaming over the customers scattered throughout the café.

“There is no shame in it, Dane.”

He took a swig of his coffee, barely tasting it. “There is for me,” he murmured. “I’ve never failed to accomplish something I set out to do.”

“And you haven’t failed at this,” Mrs. Inoa reminded him. “You must simply find another way.”

His stare swiveled back to hers as if of its own volition. “If anyone should know the impossibility of that...it’s you.”

She scoffed slightly and poured herself another cup of Kona from the carafe. “I did not fail at what I set out to do.”

He waited for her to elaborate.

“I set out to save my husband, not my plantation. A sacrifice had to be made to ensure my success. Selling the coffee farm provided the money for my husband’s treatments. It was not a failure, to lose the plantation.”

He frowned with chagrin. “I never thought of it quite like that.”

She clicked her tongue once more. “You must consider what it is you want, Dane Montgomery. Is it the plantation? Or something else?”

His frown only deepened at these questions.

“What else could I possibly want?”

Her gaze slid in the direction Mr. Inoa and Ophelia had departed. He felt his own eyes widen after another second passed.

“Mrs. Inoa, I’m not sure I appreciate what you’re implying.”

Her look was bemused as she sipped from her mug. “You like this woman. Ophelia Reid. You cannot hide it.”

He grunted and leaned back in his seat, feeling rather petulant at this forthright observation.

“I do like her. She’s not quite as pushy as the others. But she’s still one of
them.
”

Mrs. Inoa shook her head. “You are so bitter, for one so young. I think it has less to do with
them
and more to do with your own fears.”

“I’m not afraid—”

“But you are, dear boy. You are afraid you made a mistake in coming here. As much as you love it, you worry that you cannot see it through. The recruiters are only a reminder of what you may lose. They remind you of your own possible shortcomings and precarious situation. It is not fair to blame them all for your own choices—especially not this girl.”

Her words left a sour taste in his mouth. “You do realize that if I accept her offer, I’ll be leaving the island—that Keahi may be out of a job.”

Mrs. Inoa waved a hand in dismissal. “It will hardly come to that. On the contrary, if you accept, Keahi can run the plantation in your absence, and you will have the necessary income to keep it afloat.”

He remained silent at this.

“At times, a sacrifice must be made to see something through,” Mrs. Inoa pointed out. “The only question that remains...is what will your sacrifice be?”

* * *

D
ANE
AND
O
PHELIA
departed the Ho’okipa Café amid hugs and well wishes from their hosts. Ophelia felt the warm glow of an afternoon spent with friends, and before leaving, she insisted Dane pose with the Inoas for a photo with her disposable camera.

They spent the remainder of the afternoon touring the studios and galleries of Holualoa’s art district, taking in sculptures, paintings, photography, artisanal crafts and more. By the time they exited the last shop, Ophelia felt both inspired and awed by the abundance of local talent.

She noted that Dane had been pleasant but slightly preoccupied throughout the remainder of their day together, and as they climbed into the Jeep to head back to the inn, she felt a twinge of guilt for how her sightseeing had taken him away from more pressing duties at the plantation.

“Dane, I should... I want to...” She drew a breath, steadying herself. “Thank you for taking the time to show me around today. I really had a lot of fun.”

He slid a glance her way. “Wasn’t it all part of our arrangement?”

She felt a keen stab of disappointment. “Oh. Of course. Yes. But...with Keahi, and yesterday...” She stopped before she said something she’d regret. “I appreciate you holding to your end of the bargain, given how difficult this week has been for you.” But it had been more than just that for her. Somehow, over the course of their time together, Ophelia had thought that she and Dane might have grown a little closer—moved beyond the roles of recruiter and candidate, even if only by a small margin. Apparently, Dane didn’t feel the same, and now her cheeks began to flame with embarrassment.

“I just appreciate how, er, thorough you were in fulfilling your duty.”

She caught the flicker of a grin at the corner of his mouth. “I had a lot of fun, too.”

Then, to her utter astonishment, he winked, and she felt her heart speed up in her chest. Ophelia looked out her window, trying to still the rapid tripping of her heartbeat, and focused on the horizon, a golden strip with lines of pink fire at the edges. They drove in silence for a few miles until Dane put on his flashers and pulled the Jeep off the road and onto a stretch of gravel.

“Come on,” he said.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going to catch the sunset. It happens fast in Hawaii.”

He climbed out of the vehicle, and Ophelia followed, coming to stand beside him as the sun began sinking rapidly in the distance.

“It’s a clear sky,” he observed. “Maybe you’ll see the green flash, if you’re lucky.”

“Green flash?”

He looked her way. “It’s a natural phenomenon here—somewhat rare but not impossible to witness. In that split second after the sun disappears into the horizon, an emerald-green spark can flash. It’s easy to miss, but you also have to be careful not to watch for it too closely because your own eyes will create a green retinal burn by staring at the sun, so you have to look at just the right time to catch it.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“It’s worth it.” He held her stare for a little longer and then looked back at the horizon. “Look for it when I tell you but not before.”

Ophelia did as he told her and kept her gaze focused elsewhere, finally settling it on the man himself. She studied the angle of his jaw with its light dusting of scruff, the length of his neck before the line dropped to his broad shoulders.

“Ophelia?”

“Hmm?” she responded distractedly.

“Do you think I could be happy, working for Bianca Towers?”

As his words registered, she felt her mouth open in disbelief.

“Now. Look now.”

She automatically turned her head in time to see the sun’s last brilliant light before it dipped beyond view, and then, in that brief second of its disappearance, an ethereal green glow winked at her in the dusk before burning out.

“I saw it! Dane! Did you see?”

“I did.”

“I saw the green flash!” She gasped with joy. “It was there!”

She laughed in utter delight before turning her attention back to the man beside her. “I saw it flash!”

But she realized Dane wasn’t looking at the horizon—he was watching her. She felt a shiver stretch over her from head to toe at the expression in his eyes.

He inched closer, and she leaned in as though it were the most natural thing in the world. His hands came up to rest against the sides of her neck, his thumbs running back and forth along her jaw.

His face was so close that she could count the lashes rimming the warm blue pools of his eyes. He had a few freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose, and his lips were parted ever so slightly, his breath faintly raspy as he stared down at her.

Her stomach felt lodged into her chest, and her heart beat wildly against the confines of her rib cage. Her skin tingled with a thousand pinpricks of awareness—the brush of his elbows against her forearms, his fingertips kneading lightly into her hair, the slightly rough touch of his palms along her jaw.

He held her for so long that she closed her eyes, wanting to remember this feeling of security, of safety in his arms.

Then he kissed her, and her lips came alive under his, moving slowly and without urgency. She trembled and reached her arms around his waist, both for support and to draw him nearer. She didn’t know how long they stood, locked together like that, as the sunset dissipated, and the world shifted toward evening.

At last, they pulled apart and looked into each other’s eyes.

“You were right,” he murmured.

She was finding it hard to regain her equilibrium after what had just happened. Her blood sang in her veins, and her mouth kept willfully attempting to turn upward.

“About what?” she breathed.

He ran his palm over her cheek, and she felt herself turning into it.

“I really shouldn’t have underestimated you when you first arrived on my doorstep.”

She tugged him close and planted another soft kiss on his lips before answering him.

“I told you so.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

L
ILLIAN
R
EID
RETURNED
her office phone to its cradle, resisting the urge to slam it down in frustration. She loathed spending time reassuring her clients. She had built this business from the ground up, a forerunner in her field. Hadn’t she earned the right to a little trust on their part? The situation with Bianca Towers would be resolved shortly. Ophelia would come through. She had not groomed her daughter for any less. But tackling a recruit such as Dane Montgomery for a client as glamorous as Bianca was bound to draw attention. She supposed she should be grateful that her company’s name was on everyone’s lips. Even if most of the chatter was concerning whether this recruitment would skyrocket her firm to international success or plummet them into eventual bankruptcy.

Considering this potential outcome caused her to shudder. She had not come this far to see her business face downsizing. With the economy’s turn, she’d worked harder than ever and had kept the Reid Recruiting name at the top of the nation’s list of reputable, successful executive search firms. Landing Montgomery would solidify that reputation and allow her to expand into Paris, with her own daughter at the operation’s helm. With her contacts and background in France, such a move would push her firm into the sphere of international business and increase the overall net worth of her company.

She pushed back from her desk and stood, moving to look out over the Manhattan skyline. She had labored to ensure Ophelia’s future. It was why Cole was such a perfect match for her daughter. He was one of the best recruiters she’d ever seen, and with him at Ophelia’s side, Lillian could rest assured that her business would continue to thrive under the couple’s leadership. That is, once the two of them reconciled.

Of course, turning over the reins wouldn’t happen for many years to come. She had no intention of retiring early to some tropical paradise like Montgomery had done. The very thought elicited another shudder.

She checked her watch. It was shortly after 6:00 a.m. in Hawaii. Her daughter would be awake by now, certainly. She knew better than to stay abed with so much at stake.

Lifting the phone’s receiver once more, she dialed Ophelia’s cell phone number and waited for it to ring.

* * *

O
PHELIA
HAD
JUST
stepped out of the shower when she heard her phone vibrating insistently. She’d been restless for most of the night, her dreams filled with memories of Dane’s arms around her and his lips on hers. She’d been awake long before the dawn, lying in bed and basking in the thought of the day ahead, wondering what it would be like to spend the hours in Dane’s company.

The phone’s vibrations distracted her from these thoughts as she wrapped her towel more tightly around herself and rushed to see who was calling. She was reaching for the phone when she saw the name flashing across the screen.

Lillian Reid.

Her mother’s office line. Some of her joy evaporated at this. Her mother was likely calling for an update on her progress, but she wasn’t sure what sort of headway she’d made. She and Dane had spent a wonderful day together yesterday, ended it with a kiss, but that didn’t mean he was any closer to accepting the Towers proposal. She knew the call would be routed to voice mail after another ring so she drew a short breath and answered the call.

“Good morning, Ms. Reid.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Ophelia, but it’s past noon here.”

“Oh, of course. The time difference. I’d forgotten.”

“It’s understandable.”

There was an uncomfortable pause, and Ophelia wished, for probably the millionth time, that she and her mother could find something more to say to each other at intervals like these.

“I was calling to check on your progress.”

“Certainly. I’m sorry I haven’t checked in more frequently.”

“As long as you’ve made inroads with Montgomery, it’s all right.”

Ophelia didn’t respond, and she could sense her mother’s disappointment.

“You have been promoting your purpose there, haven’t you, Ophelia?”

“Absolutely, Ms. Reid,” she hastened to assure. “But of course, he’s not the easiest man to convince.”

“No,” her mother slowly agreed. “But you have more at stake than anybody. So I trust you’ve been appropriately motivated.”

Ophelia wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but in typical fashion, her mother immediately sensed her reluctance.

“Ophelia, what is going on over there?”

She suddenly felt like a teenager again, fearful of getting caught sneaking in past curfew. “I’ve been doing my best to convince Dane to sign the contract.”

But her earlier hesitation had already raised Lillian’s suspicions. “And how have you been doing that?”

Ophelia swallowed. “As I said in my email, I offered Dane the additional incentive, and he’s been acting as my tour guide.”

“You’ve been sightseeing?”

“Yes.” Wasn’t that what the tour-guide incentive had implied?

“And what have you been seeing?”

Ophelia seated herself in the chair by her room’s desk and drew her knees up to her chest. The open window let in the morning’s trade winds, and she felt gooseflesh rising along her bare shoulders. “Oh, this and that.” She felt protective of the time she’d spent with Dane, not willing to share it with anyone, least of all her mother.

“Hmm. Is he any closer to signing than he was when you arrived?”

Ophelia felt compelled to answer honestly. “I don’t know.”

Her mother sighed, and she heard the weariness in it. A twinge of guilt imposed itself on her. She knew what was at stake here and recognized that her mother was counting on her to see things through.

“What if I can’t get him to agree?” she asked, her voice a whisper, though she knew there was no one to overhear.

“That is not an option.”

“I know, but—”

“He will sign that contract. He must.”

Ophelia ran a hand through the damp tendrils of her hair, pulling them over her shoulder to toy with the ends. “But he likes his life here. The islands are amazing, and the people are so welcoming. You should see the sunsets. There’s this thing called a green flash—”

“Green flash? Ophelia, have you been reading comic books?”

She figured the question was rhetorical and chose not to answer it.

“If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were charmed by this man and his life there. It’s fortunate we both know how much you want to move to Paris.”

“Yes,” Ophelia quickly replied. “Paris is all I’ve ever wanted.” She had said the words so often that they slipped easily from her mouth now.

“I know. So keep your focus, dear. Think about Paris and everything waiting for you after Montgomery signs that contract.”

It was not a suggestion but a command. Ophelia had worked for her mother long enough to know the difference.

“Yes, Ms. Reid. I’ll do my best.”

“I never thought otherwise.”

Ophelia didn’t believe her.

* * *

A
FTER
HANGING
UP
the phone in frustration for the second time that morning, Lillian felt the sharp pain of a headache radiating toward her temples. She feared Montgomery had gained the upper hand in the negotiations, and Ophelia, tenderhearted as she could be, had succumbed to his charm. The man was a master of perceptions—wasn’t that all that advertising was, perception?

Reaching toward her phone once more, she pressed the button for her assistant’s line. Tamara’s voice was temperate and professional as she answered, one of the reasons Lillian had first hired her five years earlier. She had served as a PA to some movie director, Lillian could no longer remember whom, for years before moving to the East Coast and applying for the job of her assistant—a role that had seen a rotation of individuals over the previous ten years. Tamara was the longest-lasting secretary she’d ever had, and though she wouldn’t have admitted it to most people, she was grateful for her.

“Tamara, page Cole for me and tell him I need to see him immediately in my office.”

“Yes, Ms. Reid.”

Lillian couldn’t sit still after this summons, and she stood to pace as she waited for Cole’s arrival. Perhaps she had been unwise to send her daughter to Montgomery’s island paradise. She had thought that Ophelia’s goals would keep her firmly focused on her task. She suspected, however, that their recruit had somehow turned the tables and enchanted Ophelia with the idea of island life. It was the very thing Lillian had worked for years to safeguard against. She wanted Ophelia to be secure, to be happy. She would not have wished for her the life that Lillian had led. Her marriage to Marcel had been like something from a fairy tale—falling in love at a young age while vacationing with friends in Europe, marrying a man over twice her age and moving to Paris. But the dream had eventually turned to ash, as most fairy tales do.

Mothers never tell you about that,
she mused. Her own mother had been critical of her marriage, disdaining the idea of her marrying someone foreign and so much older, as well. But her mother hadn’t told her how things would end—that Marcel would die while she was still so young, that she would be left with a widow’s inheritance that could not sustain her and a young daughter forever. She had returned to the States and invested the money in starting up her business, and then she had worked harder than anyone could have imagined to make that business a success. All so her own daughter would never have her dreams crushed as Lillian’s had been.

She had determined not to do her daughter the disservice so many other mothers had done their children. She’d made certain Ophelia was smarter than the rest of them, more determined. When her daughter had named Paris as a childhood dream, Lillian had helped her fashion it into a goal. She’d given her something to work for so that she wouldn’t have to rely on love to feel fulfilled.

Why did everyone laud fairy tales for their happy endings? Did they forget all the death, cruelty and loss in between? She would not have wished a fairy tale on anyone, least of all her own child.

A knock sounded on the door, distracting her from these musings. She turned to see Cole standing outside the glass, and she waved him inside. Placing aside her thoughts, she returned to the business of being her company’s leader once more. She moved back to her desk and gestured for Cole to take the seat before it.

“Thank you for coming in on such short notice, Cole. I hope I’m not keeping you from anything important.”

“It’s no problem, Lillian. I was just getting ready to step out for lunch.”

They settled themselves, and for just a moment, she allowed herself the opportunity to study him. Cole was one of her strongest assets at Reid Recruiting—charming, tenacious and successful. The perfect match for Ophelia, and yet, she was aware her daughter had ended things with him.

“Have you spoken to Ophelia since she left for Hawaii?”

Cole shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Briefly, on the day of her arrival.”

“She called you?”

He nodded. Lillian had received an email that same day. It was a good sign that Ophelia had taken the time to call him.

“I’ve just spoken to her, and I have some...concerns.”

Cole straightened attentively. “What kind of concerns?”

“I fear she’s become too wrapped up in the extracurricular side of her assignment. She seems to be enjoying herself.”

She watched as Cole frowned, trying to read the emotions that moved across his face. Did it pain him, the idea of Ophelia spending time with another man? She found it difficult to tell.

“I don’t think it would be wrong for her to have a good time.”

He didn’t say so, but his tense shoulders suggested he wasn’t much in favor of the idea.

“I suppose not, but my fear is that she’s lost her focus. It is a recruitment that requires concentration. Her surroundings might detract from that.”

“You mean the islands?”

“Exactly. That, and her host.”

“Montgomery?”

She knew she had his full attention now. “The man did not reach the heights that he did without possessing certain skills. I worry that he’s managed to sidetrack Ophelia. She needs our help.”

Cole’s expression darkened, and she could see his mind working through the implications of what she’d just suggested.

“What did you have in mind?”

* * *

W
HEN
O
PHELIA
DESCENDED
the stairs, she encountered Dane at the reception area. She couldn’t tell if he was really looking over reservations, as he seemed to be, or whether he had been waiting for her to make an appearance. Either way, his face lit up when he saw her, and she felt her nerve endings tingle all over again in memory of their kiss the night before.

“Good morning,” he greeted.

“Good morning,” she returned, keeping her tone casual.

“I was looking over our literature for local sightseeing adventures, trying to get some ideas for today.” He held up a few pamphlets that Leilani must keep on file for guests. So he hadn’t been waiting for her, after all. At least, not in the way she had assumed.

She steeled herself and affected what she hoped was a professional demeanor. “I actually thought it might be more interesting if we stayed around the plantation today.”

Her tone, or perhaps her expression, caused his smile to fade somewhat. “Oh? You’ve changed your mind about seeing the tourist hotspots?”

“Not precisely. But I’m more curious about what your day-to-day life is like, on a coffee farm.”

“Ah.”

Something in that simple sound caused a tug of sadness in her. Had he hoped for something more from her? As much as she liked Dane, she had to remember why she had come. Paris, her future, hung in the balance. She could not afford to see Dane any differently than she had twenty-four hours ago.

Besides, witnessing the daily tasks of his business might give her some insight, leverage if necessary, on how to lure him back to New York and the position with Towers Resorts.