Gentle Persuasion (14 page)

Dane burst out laughing at this theory.

“Still,” Keahi said.

“Still what?”

“If Ophelia shows up tonight...you should ask her to dance.”

Dane gave a grunt of surprise that he hoped sounded like annoyance. “Her ex-boyfriend is here to perform those duties.”

“What, the other recruiter?” Keahi blew a sound through his lips. “He doesn’t deserve a woman like Ophelia.”

“And I do?”

Keahi grinned, and to his dismay, Dane found himself smiling back. He shook his head. “You islanders need to stop sticking your nose in everyone else’s business.”

Keahi laughed in a low rumble. “If we did then where would we put our noses?” He began to amble away. “Just remember, boss, if the lady shows up...be nice. Ask her to dance. You never know what might happen.”

Dane waved him away without replying.

* * *

O
PHELIA
ENTERED
THE
luau with Cole at her side. Her gaze swept over the scene, taking in the flickering flames of tiki torches, tables groaning beneath the weight of potluck dishes, a small stage set up with local musicians strumming island pop tunes and brightly dressed luau attendees circulating the open space behind Masters’s sprawling home. She fiddled self-consciously with the belt of her coral-colored sarong sundress, on loan from Leilani.

“I love theme parties,” Cole announced from beside her.

“It’s not a theme party,” she pointed out. “This is their culture. Don’t stereotype.”

“Whatever. I still love a tropical theme.”

She chafed but did not respond.

“Do you think the cocktails will have tiny umbrellas in them?”

She turned to glare at him and saw he was smirking, making every effort to get under her skin.

“Remember the Gibson party in the Hamptons two summers ago?”

Her mind spun backward, recalling paper lanterns strung along the beach and so many cocktail umbrellas that Cole had dared to ask Mrs. Gibson just whom her bulk supplier was. He convinced her that when he and Ophelia married, they’d be having a tropical theme and wanted as many cocktail umbrellas as they could find.

Ophelia’s lips twitched at the memory. At the time, she had been giddy at the prospect of her and Cole marrying. But a proposal had never come, and now she wondered if he had known all along he didn’t wish to be tied to her—not with her plans to move to Europe.

“Perhaps you should find Masters,” she suggested, “and ask him about his umbrella supplier.”

To her consternation, Cole grinned at her recollection of the event. “You’ll have to introduce me to him first.”

“Did I hear my name?”

Ophelia shifted with Cole to see Kenneth Masters standing before them. Stifling her annoyance at his appearance, she gestured between him and Cole. “Kenneth Masters, this is my colleague, Cole Dorset.”

“Ah, you’re coming in pairs now to try and negotiate Dane back to the mainland? Best of luck with that.”

Cole let out an appreciative laugh as Ophelia folded her arms. She saw no reason to get chummy with Masters.

“He’s a tough sell, that’s for certain,” Cole agreed.

“I take it you’ve made no progress with my recalcitrant neighbor, then?” Masters directed this question to Ophelia.

She moved her weight to her other foot and kept her arms crossed. “That’s privileged information.”

“Oh, come on, Fee. As Montgomery’s neighbor, perhaps Masters here has some insight we’re lacking.”

“Please, call me Ken,” Masters insisted.

Ophelia suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at Masters and Cole’s instant camaraderie.

“I’m trying to convince Dane of the merits of a partnership,” Masters continued, “joining his reputation on the mainland with my coffee farming experience.”

“Sounds intriguing. What’s your game plan?”

Ophelia looked around, desperate for an escape. She caught Leilani’s eye several yards away and made a silent plea for help. Leilani abandoned Sam to weave her way through the partygoers until she reached Ophelia’s side.

“Ophelia, have you tried the
poi
yet?”

“No, I haven’t had a chance.”

“You have to taste it! It’s like a rite of passage when you come to Hawaii. Excuse us, gentlemen.” Leilani whisked Ophelia away before either man could protest. She steered Ophelia in the direction of the refreshment tables.

“Thank you,” she said as Leilani grabbed them each a paper plate. “I have to confess that something about Masters makes my skin crawl.”

“You and me both,” Leilani commiserated. “But the
poi
wasn’t just an excuse. You can’t come to Hawaii without trying it.”

She navigated Ophelia through tables laden with traditional Hawaiian dishes: chicken long rice with ginger and green onions,
lau lau
of steamed fish in taro leaves,
lomi
salmon with Maui onion,
poke
which looked to Ophelia like a heavily seasoned raw tuna salad and endless dishes involving sweet potato, pineapple, papaya, coconut, fish, chicken and pork.

They passed Pele manning one of the refreshment tables. The older woman greeted her granddaughter warmly, but when Ophelia stopped to say hello, Pele turned her back without responding. Ophelia frowned in disappointment and then kept moving to catch up with Leilani.

“I think your grandmother wishes I weren’t here,” she commented.

Leilani sighed. “I’ve noticed that she’s been cooler than necessary where you’re concerned. Try not to take it personally.”

Ophelia didn’t see how she could take it otherwise. After all, Pele seemed fond enough of Cole.

“I think it’s hard for her. She knows Dane has to do something in order to save the plantation, but she doesn’t like the thought of him leaving. She loves him like a son. Especially since my dad passed away.”

“You never talk about your parents. What happened to them?”

Leilani’s eyes filled as she looked at Ophelia. “My dad died of a brain aneurysm two years ago. Totally unexpected.”

“Oh, Leilani. I’m so sorry.” If she hadn’t been balancing her plate in her hands, she would have enveloped Leilani in a hug.

“My mom left when I was little, and when I lost my dad...well, that’s when I started spending time with the wrong crowd. Dane helped
Tutu
pull me out of that, and she’s been really grateful to him ever since.”

“He truly cares about you and your grandmother. That’s easy to see.”

Leilani blinked away her tears. “It’s easy to see he cares about you, too.”

Ophelia looked down at her plate and chose not to respond. After all, what did it matter if Dane might be coming to care about her? Nothing could happen between them. They were destined to be in two different places, no matter how things played out.

She followed Leilani down the line of food so that by the time they reached the dish of
poi,
Ophelia’s plate was already piled high.

She took one look at the infamous
poi
and decided perhaps it was good she didn’t have much room for it. The native food was a gray mass of puddinglike consistency. Ophelia frowned into its congealed depths.

“Um...are you serious about this?”

Leilani grinned from ear to ear. “You have to try it,” she encouraged and promptly scooped up a spoonful, plopping it on the edge of Ophelia’s plate. It looked like a blob of grayish-purple slime.

“Is it supposed to look like that?”

Leilani giggled. “Sure, it’s one-finger
poi.
”

“One finger?”

The younger girl nodded. “When it’s a thinner consistency, we call it three-finger
poi
because it takes three fingers to scoop it up and eat it. But most Hawaiians prefer it thicker, so that it only takes one finger to scoop and eat.”

“Sounds...appetizing.”

Leilani grinned. “Don’t judge it until you taste it.”

Ophelia remained skeptical, but in the spirit of new experiences, she knew she had to at least sample the gray glob. She was studying the quivering substance, debating whether she should attack it with a spoon, one finger or three when a voice in her ear sent shivers up and down her spine.

“It’s not quite as bad as it looks.”

She turned and found herself looking into the warm blue eyes of Dane Montgomery.

* * *

D
ANE
COULDN
’
T
HELP
but be amused at Ophelia’s reaction to the wobbly mass of
poi.
He’d experienced similar misgivings when he’d first tasted the pudding made of softened and mashed taro root.

Along with Leilani, he directed Ophelia toward a nearby table where she sat and stared at the item on her plate. As soon as Leilani’s attention was distracted by a friend who greeted her in passing, Ophelia leaned toward him.

“Can I just use a spoon?” she questioned, an edge of desperation to her tone.

“You could,” he said, “but if you want the true experience, you have to scoop it with your fingers.”

She eyed him. “You first.”

He laughed. “You don’t trust us?”

She pursed her lips, and he found himself laughing even harder. “All right, all right. Here, I’ll show you.”

Reaching over her plate, he scooped a dollop of
poi
onto his finger and lifted it to his lips. He licked it clean and then looked at her. “Your turn.”

She sighed. Leilani finished talking to her friend and turned back.

“Go on, Ophelia. It’s not that bad. I promise.”

Ophelia bravely dipped a finger into the gray sludge, and then, squeezing her eyes closed, inserted it into her mouth. Dane and Leilani exchanged a conspiratorial look and waited until Ophelia’s eyes opened.

“It tastes like...” She rolled it around in her mouth. “Like wallpaper paste.”

Dane threw back his head and laughed. “How could you possibly know what wallpaper paste tastes like?”

“Well, it’s what I imagine wallpaper paste tastes like,” she said.

Leilani made a face. “It’s an acquired taste, obviously.”

Ophelia made another couple of attempts at the
poi
before moving on to some of the other foods on her plate. Dane rose to get them both something to drink and then grabbed a bite to eat for himself. Ophelia brought out her disposable camera and took a few photos. Several times, friends of Dane and Leilani came over to say hello, and eventually, Sam joined them.

Dane found himself floating on the awareness of Ophelia seated beside him and marveling how, in such a short time, she had turned his world on its head. Having her there felt natural, as if she had been born to be at his side. And yet, Hawaii wasn’t her dream. She belonged to New York, to Paris, to her job with Reid Recruiting. And his life was here now.

No matter how he might be enjoying this evening, nothing could change the fact that his life and Ophelia’s dreams weren’t destined to align.

* * *

O
PHELIA
COULDN
’
T
SEEM
to stop herself. She felt a swell of emotions roiling beneath her breastbone—expectation coupled with awkwardness. Her senses were heightened with Dane seated so close to her. She tried to think of questions and comments to continue drawing him out and keep any uneasy silences from forming between them.

“There are a lot of people here,” she commented after she had swallowed the last of her
haupia,
which was, as Cole had predicted, delicious.

“When Masters throws a party, most of the community turns up,” Dane remarked.

“He must be popular.”

“The same could be said for your boyfriend.”

Her head automatically swiveled to follow his stare to where several well-dressed women surrounded Cole. Did it bother Dane that Cole had come? “Ex-boyfriend,” she corrected.

“He came a long way for an ex-boyfriend.”

“It wasn’t me he came for,” she replied.

She felt Dane shifting to watch her. “Are you sure about that?”

Just then, Cole looked up, his stare moving like a missile with a homing signal, finding its way straight to her. He held up his glass in salute, making a show of pointing at the tiny cocktail umbrella resting on the side. Despite herself, she smiled. After a couple of seconds, she realized Dane still watched her. She turned her head, catching herself in his stare.

“Maybe he came to prove something to you,” he said.

“How so?”

“Maybe he wants you to know he changed his mind, that he’s willing to find his way wherever you are. To be with you.”

She wasn’t sure if it was Dane’s implications concerning Cole or his own direct gaze that sent the warmth flooding into her cheeks. She forced a brittle laugh and shifted her eyes away.

“It’s obvious you don’t know him very well.”

“No,” Dane conceded, “but some things aren’t all that hard to figure out.”

She looked back at him, studying his carefully neutral countenance. What was he getting at? Was he nudging her back toward Cole? Did he think her ex-boyfriend would become a consolation prize, if he chose not to accept the Towers offer?

“I don’t expect you to understand.”

Dane frowned. “He loses you if he stays where he’s at. He has the chance to win you if he goes. What’s so complicated about that?”

She stared at Dane, trying to see behind the cool wall of his blue eyes. Was he testing her, trying to determine just how she felt about her ex-boyfriend? “I don’t see how Cole’s and my relationship is any business of yours.”

His passive expression flickered, and she knew she’d wounded him in some way. Before she could question him further, she sensed movement in her peripheral vision. Turning her head, she saw Cole moving toward them.

* * *

D
ANE
TENSED
AS
he saw Ophelia’s attention turn, a frown tugging at her mouth. Following her gaze, he watched as Cole Dorset resolutely made his way through the crowd and in their direction.

The band had segued into a soft pop ballad, the native Hawaiian lyrics blending with a few English ones. The song was a perfect opportunity to hold someone close.