Life's a Beach (2 page)

“Can you have this dry-cleaned?” A guest shoved a large plastic bag over the counter, knocking over her pirate's chest of wrapped candy.

“Sure,” Amelia said, taking the bag. Once she got the guest's room number and laundry preferences, she tagged the bag and called in a pickup at one of the local laundries. Then she booked a few more theater and dinner reservations and gave out some walking maps of the city. By the time she got back to her brochure, it was around three in the afternoon.

“Nine a.m. island time,” she said, dialing the resort's number.

It rang and rang. No one picked up. No one picked up an hour later, either. Finally, around five o'clock her time, a groggy voice drawled into the phone.

“Whatchu want?”

“Um, is this the Palekaiko Beach Resort?”

“It is, sistah,” the voice said in a warm, smiling voice that made her toes tingle. “What can I do for you?”

She could almost picture him leaning against a desk like hers. Only his view wasn't icy sleet and gray drabness, but lush greens and ocean blue. Shaking herself back into the present, she said, “I need to change my reservation.”

“I'm sorry, but I don't know where Hani is right now.”

“Who's Hani?” she asked.

He yawned. “He's in charge of all that.”

“Who are you?”

“They call me Dude.”

“Seriously?”

“Ya, as in I'm the dude that teaches snorkeling. The phone was harshing my buzz, so I answered it.”

“Isn't it before noon there?” Amelia was giddy at the thought of drinking before noon.

“It's five o'clock somewhere, sunshine.”

That it is.
She scowled at the mermaid clock on the wall. “Look, do you know when Hani will be back?”

He sighed. “No. In fact, I don't see Kai or Makoa around either. Must've gone surfing.”

Amelia's breath caught. “How are the waves there?”

“Here, we've got some storm surge but down the coast there's some beach break.”

“Are they…gnarly?” Amelia tried out some slang.

His husky laugh sent a shiver up her spine. “You should come see for yourself, sweet thing.”

There was one little problem with that. Her excitement deflated like a balloon, complete with the raspberry noise. “That's actually the reason why I'm calling. I need to switch dates on my reservation. I know it's last-minute, but my boss canceled my vacation.”

“Sounds like an asshole.”

Vindication surged through her and she looked quickly around, but the desk crew were the only ones near. “He is,” she whispered. “He wants me to move my two-week vacation to May.”

“Aw, honey, I'm afraid we can't do that.”

“Why not? It's all right if you have to charge me a fee.”

“Nah, you don't understand. We ain't gonna be here in May.”

“What?” She heard a screeching sound in her head.

“The big kahuna is selling and the new owners will tear it down to build condos.”

“Oh, no!” she said. “Can I get my money back?”

“We can credit your card.”

“No,” Amelia said. “I paid by check. Monthly. For over a year. I sent in the last payment a month ago.”

“Hm,” he said. “Well, I'm sure something can be done. The kahuna is a big shot. If you write him a letter, he can fix you up.”

Amelia's hand was shaking as she grabbed her pen. “What's his name?”

“Samuel Kincaide.”

“I see.” She tried to keep the tears out of her voice.

“Don't cry,
wahine.
”

She didn't trust her voice. “I d-don't want my money back. I want to go on my dream vacation.”

“Then come on.”

“I'll get in trouble,” she said with a watery giggle.

“I get it,” Dude said. “But your kahuna sounds like a grade-A prick.”

“So does yours.”

He barked out a loud laugh. “I tell you what—you come on down and I'll buy you a drink.”

She sniffled. “What's the weather like down there?”

“It's a little chilly today. It's about seventy-five.”

Amelia bit back a moan. Seventy-five! She had a cute little sundress all picked out that would be perfect with a little lacy shawl.

“But that's because of the wind. Once the wind dies down later this afternoon should be about ninety.”

This time she did let out a moan.

“Where are you calling from?” he asked, his voice sounding like honey over gravel.

“Manhattan.”

“Sistah, get on the plane.” He chuckled. “That's a no-brainer.”

“What's the worst he can do?” Amelia said, almost to herself.

“Are you a doctor?”

“Doctor?” She huffed in surprise. “No, I'm a concierge.”

“So no one's life depends on you while you're on vacation?”

“I don't even have a cat.”

“If he fires you, can you survive?”

Amelia thought about it. Jay might be pissed. Although, truth be told, he really didn't care about stuff like that. That's what she liked about him. There were no problems, no troubles. In fact, he had asked her to move in when she didn't have a job, so it probably wouldn't be that big a deal. If worse came to worst, they'd eat ramen noodles for a few months until she got into another hotel. They could rekindle their relationship over a shared misery and look over the pictures of their once-in-a-lifetime vacation.

“Sistah, you still there?”

“Unfortunately.” She sighed.

“Look, you gotta do what you gotta do. I'll make sure the kahuna gives you all your money back. He listens to me. You got no worries. You make sure you have no regrets.”

“Thanks,” she said. While the phone was cradled between her neck and shoulders, she rubbed her arms to stave off the chill as she stared dejectedly out the window. The sleet just kept coming down in gray icy waves. “I really appreciate that.”

“I got to tell you, though, that I've got a bucket of Coronas just waitin' to be shared. I'll even throw in a free snorkel lesson. Come find me.”

“Where are you going to be?” Her mouth curved into a smile.

“In my hammock. Just ask for Dude.”

“Dude?”

“Yes, sweet thing?”

“I'll see you tomorrow.”

“That's my girl.”

Amelia hung up and started shaking her head. Mr. Kensington would be disappointed, but he wouldn't really fire her, right? She was the only experienced concierge he had, and she was a hard worker. She always picked up extra shifts and never complained. So he'd have to hire a temp, or get one of the desk staff to fill in for a few days. Most of them were native New Yorkers and could recommend restaurants. All of her contacts for shows and tours were on the computer. It was just customer service. She'd even stay extra late tonight to help train them. And she'd be gone only two weeks. It was only right that she took the vacation that had been booked and approved a year ago. She'd earned it. And she and Jay needed it. She couldn't even remember the last time they'd had sex. Amelia needed to put her relationship first. Straightening her shoulders, she marched into Kensington's office to tell him the bad news.

Amelia trudged to the bus stop with all of her personal belongings in a large plastic garbage bag. She no longer cared about avoiding icy puddles, because she was already soaked through.

By the time she got off at her stop, Zarafina was long gone, and the café where Quinn worked was closed. Too bad—she could have used another shot of caffeine. It felt like it was taking an eternity to get to her apartment. All she wanted was a nice hot shower and to put on soft wool socks. She'd tell Jay about losing her job after Maui. No sense ruining his fun. And if she started to stress, she'd just order more rum drinks. She deserved this vacation.

“I can't believe that rat fink Kensington fired me,” she told her reflection in the elevator.

Opening the door to her apartment, she dumped her belongings on the floor.
Crap,
she thought—she'd forgotten to pick up dinner. When she didn't bring home dinner, Jay got cranky. Oh, well, they'd have to get delivery tonight. Thai sounded good. Or maybe a nice hot steaming bowl of pho? Squishing toward the bedroom, she heard loud moaning sounds.

“Yes, yes, yes!”

Great. Jay's watching porn in surround sound again.

Shaking her head, she pushed open the bedroom door. Whatever witty remark she had prepared died when she realized it was live action instead of Internet porn.

Quinn in all her naked glory was bouncing on top of Jay, whose fingers were biting into Quinn's butt so hard, he was going to leave marks.

Amelia's feet were frozen in place. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but as she helplessly watched Quinn working toward orgasm, she wasn't surprised.

Hurt. Betrayed. Pissed. But not surprised.

Is it wrong that I'm madder about losing my morning coffee?

Quinn's head tilted back as she spewed a litany of swear words. Jay lay flat on his back with his eyes closed and let her do all the work.

Typical.

It was then she realized that her relationship had problems that even Maui couldn't solve. She didn't love Jay; otherwise she'd be more upset. He didn't love her; otherwise he wouldn't be banging the barista.

“You're going to put somebody's eye out with those,” Amelia said, finding her voice as Quinn's big breasts heaved up and down.

Quinn shrieked and tried to cover up.

Jay pushed her over and sat up. “Babe, you're home early.”

Samuel Kincaide, aka Dude, hung up the phone and scratched his day-old beard. While the deal wasn't quite in the bag for the ownership to switch hands, his hotel staff should still be attentive to the guests who were here or who were scheduled to arrive, like the New York cutie with the sexy voice he'd just gotten off the phone with. Not that there were many guests. Most of them took one look at the
Brady Bunch Goes to Hawaii
décor and headed for the Hilton.

Still the guests who were here seemed content to stuff themselves at the buffet and then saunter over to the beach. In a few hours the tiki bar would open, and anyone who had complaints would be encouraged to drink up. This was Hawaii, not Wall Street. How badly could your day be going anyway?

“Howzit, Dude,” Joely, one of the maids, said as she passed by him in the lobby. She was just coming on shift.

He gave her the shaka, fingers curled in, thumb and pinkie extended. “Seen the boys?” He jerked his thumb at the empty reservation desk.

She shook her head. “No, but there was a good party last night at D. T. Fleming. We missed you.”

Samuel groaned. “I forgot. Was Uncle Uffe there?”

“Along with his homemade hooch.” She got her cart from the back and wheeled it out to the first of the buildings.

Well, that was that. The bell staff wouldn't be in anytime soon. He left a note for one of the Three Stooges to find him when they deigned to come back to work. Grabbing a bucket of ice and a six-pack of Corona, he went out to his station. A hammock strung between two concrete palm tree statues in the middle of the beach was what he called his office. It was in full view of his yacht, which was anchored off in the distance, but most important, it was in full view of the gorgeous waves. The occasional bikini model sashaying by didn't suck either. He pushed down his sunglasses and gave one a wink. She stared at him stone-faced and then looked away, dismissing him as not worthy of being in the same universe with her. Samuel chuckled. That was all good too. He was sick of being a wallet for some pretty face who thought she could use him until something better came along.

That's why the Dude persona was the perfect disguise: unshaven, half drunk, and lazy as all get out. No woman in her right mind would want him. Samuel could be left alone in peace. Besides, when he got lonely, all he had to do was go back to the boat, shower and change, then take it over to Honolulu and spend the night in another bar on another beach. That didn't happen that often, though. He always felt like a first-class shit when he left the morning after. Not that the girls ever wanted him to stay past breakfast anyway. Unless they saw him on the yacht pulling in. Then it was like trying to shake them off Velcro.

He thought about the woman on the phone. He should have gotten her name. He had been like her once. Strapped into a soulless job. Of course, being a stockbroker had made him a very rich man, while he was pretty sure she was barely getting by at her job. He hoped she really would take her vacation and that her dickwad of a boss wouldn't fire her. Maybe he could find out where she worked and see if Marcus could influence something on her behalf. She'd sounded really sweet.

He fumbled in his board shorts for his cellphone and dialed his brother, who answered on the first ring.

“If you're calling to gloat about the weather, you can kiss my ass,” Marcus said.

Samuel burped into the phone.

“That's charming. Is that all you wanted?”

“No,” Samuel said. “I'm just checking that you didn't make one of your employees cancel their vacation to Hawaii.”

“Nope. At this point, I'd go with them.”

“I think we've got a few rooms available.”

“Actually, you're at max capacity,” Marcus said.

“No shit?”

“If you got off your hammock and looked around, you'd see that.”

“Too much effort.”

“You should put that on a T-shirt.”

“Roger dat,” Samuel said, opening up a beer.

“Will you stop with the pidgin? You sound like a stoner idiot.”

“Dat's the plan, brah.”

“I'm hanging up now. Aloha, shithead.”

A part of him missed the big city. In his previous life, Samuel had worn a crisp suit that cost about as much as a week at this resort. He'd always been clean shaven and smelled like Armani instead of sunblock and beer. But Wall Street had burned him out, so he'd cashed in and sailed here. He'd bought this place with his brother while he was still working in Manhattan. At first he had thought he'd make a go of being a hotelier, like Marcus. But then he'd gotten a good look at the place and got the shakes. No way. He didn't want to work that hard again. Wall Street had almost killed him with the stress. That was no longer his life. Seeing what it had done to Chris had been his wake-up call.

He was dialing his number before he could think better of it. Chris's wife, Della, answered the phone, though.

“How's Hawaii, you lucky fellow?” she said.

“It's paradise,” he admitted with a twinge of guilt. “Is the old man around?”

“He's not doing so well. It was a rough day.”

“I'm sorry,” Samuel said. “Is he in a lot of pain?”

“No.” Della sighed. “He's just frustrated. He's trying to do too much and he's wearing himself out. I keep telling him that it's only been a few months.”

It had been over a year since his mentor and friend had his massive heart attack, but Samuel didn't correct her.

“He's always been impatient,” he said.

“And stubborn,” Della said. “He hates that his body won't do what he wants.”

“It'll come. The doctors said he should regain full mobility.”

“It ain't coming fast enough. Not for him. Anyway, I'm sorry, Samuel, but he's fast asleep and I don't have the heart to wake him.”

“I wouldn't want you to,” he assured her. “Just keep in mind that vacation is on me as soon as you both feel up to it.”

“That's nice of you,” Della said. “How about I come down now and he can take a rain check?”

They laughed together.

“Get on a plane,” he said.

“I would if I could,” she said sadly. “But I can't leave him right now.”

“I know. If you need anything, just let me know.”

“Will do. I'll tell him you called.”

Samuel tucked his phone back into his pocket. That was enough activity for a while. Leaning back into the hammock, he kicked off and let himself sway in time with the mild breeze. This sure beat the hell out of being on the floor at the New York Stock Exchange. Did some part of him miss the hustle and excitement? Not at the moment.

He was halfway through his third beer when Kai stumbled up to him. He looked like yesterday's catch and smelled worse. As a native Hawaiian, he managed to make an aloha shirt and khaki shorts a professional uniform. But the stagger in his step and the pain in his eyes ruined the effect.

“You wanted to see me, kahuna?” he croaked, pulling his jet-black hair back into a ponytail and wincing at the sun's glare.

“I told you not to call me that. I'm just Dude.”

“Right.” Kai rubbed his face. “My head hurts.”

Samuel shook his head. “Stand downwind. You're sweating grain alcohol.”

“Sorry.” Kai shuffled a bit away and crouched down in the sand. “My head is going to explode, and I can't wait for it to happen.”

“Look, I don't mean to be a dick, but we have to have somebody taking care of the customers until Tetsuo wires me the money for this place.”

“That
moke
is no good.”

“I don't care, and neither should you.”

“Easy for you to say, Dude. You'll just get on your yacht and sail away. The rest of us have to find jobs.”

“I said I'll give you guys severance pay.” Samuel waved his hand up and down the beach. “You can find work at any of these hotels and time-shares. What's the difference if you're working here or there?”

“Here's home, man. This hotel is the oldest one on the island.”

“And it looks it.” There was a reason he slept on his boat every night instead of in the owner's suite.

Kai stretched back up. “
Haole
like you couldn't possibly understand.” His words were bitter, but there wasn't any heat in them.

Dude took another drag on his beer. “I understand this beach will look a lot nicer after this eyesore is converted to condos.”

Kai rolled his eyes. “Anything else you need, Dude? 'Cause I got to get to work.”

“Yeah, I answered the phone for a reservation. A New York
wahine
was looking to switch reservations. I think I talked her out of it. Do you know her name off the top of your head?”

“Um…no.” Kai looked like he was having a hard time remembering his own name. Uncle Uffe's hooch would do that to you. It would probably also strip the barnacles off his yacht.

“Can you let me know if she does cancel? I told her I'd reimburse her the money.”

“I can just credit her card.”

“She paid by check in installments.”

“Oh, her,” Kai said. “Yeah, every month like clockwork for the past year.”

“What's her name?”

“I don't remember.” Kai shrugged. “Began with an
A,
I think.”

“All right, let me know if she makes it here. I told her I'd give her a free snorkel lesson.”

“I thought the snorkel lessons were just for show.”

“They are. Mostly,” Samuel said, pulling his ball cap over his eyes. “Just don't blow my cover with her. I'm Dude. No one important. Just one of the staff.”

“ 'K, then.” Kai walked away.

Samuel got comfortable in his hammock and finished his beer while he wondered about the girl from New York with the name that started with
A.