Czytaj książkę: «Mai Tai For Two»

Chapter Two

Alan recognized the lei flowers from the plumeria trees his mom grew back home. The clean spicy-citrus scent felt right for this place, practically crooning out “Welcome to Oahu.” He watched Julie savoring it, burying her nose in the pink-and-yellow blossoms and inhaling with a beatific smile. Alan reached for his phone to snap a picture, but Julie straightened up and ducked into the car too fast for him to capture the moment. Just as well.

Amanda was close behind her, but Alan lingered outside a few seconds longer while the limo driver bedecked him with a lei of his own. It was less girly than the others, with some sort of small white flowers intertwined with shells, leaves and what appeared to be nuts. He clamped down on the urge to make a nut joke to the guy, figuring he’d probably heard all of those about a million times before.

When he joined the girls in the spacious vehicle, though, he had to lead with, “Yeah, I hung back so the driver could sling his nuts on me.”

Julie snorted. Amanda rolled her eyes, though he caught a hint of a smile. She was sitting directly opposite Julie, and Alan had to make a split-second decision on who to sit next to. The platonic work wife, who reliably laughed at his jokes, or the cute single girl who always seemed reluctant to admit she found them funny? He defaulted to his comfort zone, sliding in next to Julie.

Amanda gestured at the lush leather-clad interior, which looked and smelled expensive. “Pinch me.”

“I know, right?” Julie held her lei up, taking another quick sniff. “I’ve felt that way ever since they called my name at that meeting. I mean, I knew it was a luxury vacation, but I guess my experience to date was way too limited to let me imagine what this would really be like.”

She and Amanda both paused to snuffle at their leis again, happy-sighing in tandem.

“I’ll pinch you,” Alan offered. “Either of you.” He flopped closer to Julie, his shoulder brushing hers as he arranged himself. At the unexpected contact, both of them automatically shifted a few inches away, maintaining a buffering distance like magnets with the same polarity.

Amanda shot him a smirk. “I’ll pass on the pinch, thanks. Gosh, it was so great on the plane, Alan, while you were sleeping and quietly watching violent guy movies on your iPad and not giving anyone grief.”

He’d definitely picked the safer side to sit on.

“Don’t make me separate you two,” Julie warned.

“Julie was watching the movie, too,” Alan pointed out. “Don’t lie, Jules. I saw you do that fist-pump during the big shoot-out scene.”

She gave his shoulder a friendly shove, breaking the magical buffer zone again, and he laughed to cover up his startled reaction when she let her hand linger for a second, shaping itself around his upper arm. He thought of the days ahead, the beach and the likelihood of her touching his arm again when he was shirtless. Then he put that thought carefully away, in the same deep cupboard of his brain where he stored all the photos of Julie he hadn’t taken, the smiles she gave him first thing in the morning over the coffee machine in the break room, and the feeling of her lips under his the one and only time he’d let his impulses overcome his good sense.

The cupboard was locked and had to stay that way, because Julie liked him like a brother. She’d told him so, always said he was the dorky brother she’d never had, even though she had three perfectly good actual brothers. He knew two of them through work, and they seemed like nice enough guys. They seemed a whole lot like him, though, which might have been Julie’s deeper point. He reminded her too much of them for her to ever consider him in a romantic light. Even after that single tipsy kiss over a year ago—that kiss, God, all hot mulled wine and mistletoe and wild promise—she’d never seemed to go through the revelation Alan had felt. His whole world had shifted, things falling into place so hard he had to brace himself against the shock. No such bracing was needed on Julie’s part, because to her it had obviously been no big deal. He’d heard her laugh the incident off to a coworker who’d asked if they were together, describing it as a case of tripping and accidentally falling into each other’s faces. A one-time oopsie.

You have to get over any girl who calls you an oopsie, dude.

Instead of getting over it, he glanced at Julie from the corner of his eye and wondered what she’d look like in her bathing suit. Then he tried to correct himself, picturing Amanda in her bathing suit, as though he was simply picturing all the girls that way instead of one in particular. Hot as she was, though, Amanda did nothing for him. Julie crept back into his thoughts, like always.

If he’d had a girlfriend at the moment, it would have been easier not to dwell. He hadn’t wanted to come at all without a romantic plus-one. Unlike Julie, he didn’t have a single friend he especially wanted to spend four days and three nights with in a tropical paradise. Nobody other than Julie, at least, who was technically a platonic friend. But when his parents had refused his offer, he’d decided to suck it up and make the trip alone. He’d spent a few hours by phone and email convincing the resort to make up the difference in the prize amount with credits toward all the kayaking, helicopter tours and other adventurous stuff he hoped to do.

And hopefully, all that distraction would be enough to keep him from tripping and falling on Julie’s face again.

* * *

Julie felt like pressing her nose up against the glass, the better to take in the absurdly lush tropical foliage and iconic views. The drive from the airport to the resort took them most of the way across the island, and every random glance out the windows presented postcard-worthy scenery while the warm, spicy scent of the lei flowers filled the limo and charmed the very air she breathed. Hawaii. Oahu. Surely she would wake up at any moment.

She was accustomed to enjoying things after working for them, and the windfall nature of the trip had an illicit and slightly guilty charm. She’d overprepared, researching and packing for all possibilities, determined to plan it all out and wring every drop of perfection from this once-in-a-lifetime event. Now she worried that she’d set herself up for disappointment, because it was only a hotel, after all, no matter how many stars it ranked on the travel guides. Only Hawaii, and only four days and three nights. If she did pick somebody up to spend time with, he would most likely fall closer to Lothario than to Prince Charming on the spectrum. But the place felt magical, anyway. Like anything could happen.

The hotel grounds did nothing to debunk those fairy-tale delusions. More magic, more fresh tropical flowers, actual parrots on perches. The trips were her company’s big employee-appreciation door prizes for an unexpectedly fruitful year, and they hadn’t skimped. The hotel deserved all those stars it had earned and then some. The staff clearly knew how to do celebrity treatment, and they whisked the threesome in and out of the lobby in a twinkling, no lingering among the hoi polloi—not that there were any hoi polloi there, but if there had been, Julie and her two friends wouldn’t have had to wait with them for a bellhop.

The luggage was whisked away on a golf cart, while the trio opted to walk from the main hotel building to the beachfront “cottage” accommodations. Not really cottages, but isolated clusters of half a dozen luxury suites each, dotting the shoreline of the small bay on which the hotel sat. All had glass doors facing the beach and ocean, and were screened from the main hotel by trees and hibiscus bushes for an illusion of privacy. The short stroll to get there was a treat in itself, a mini-tour of some of the resort’s amazing amenities and breathtaking views. All the views were breathtaking. There were no mediocre angles to the place. Julie kept thinking of descriptors, then realized she was quoting the brochures to herself. Truth in advertising, to be sure.

Amanda kept saying, “Oh my God!” and whacking Julie on the arm as she pointed to one wonder after another: the lushly landscaped rock waterfall tumbling into the pool, the surreal turquoise water of the ocean lagoon, the clearly recognizable movie starlet lounging by the tiki hut bar.

She even heard Alan whisper, “Holy crap,” at one point, and he was usually pretty hard to impress. He wasn’t even looking at the starlet at the time. Possibly at the poolside tiki bar’s beer selection. She suspected he’d spend some time becoming more familiar with that very soon.

One of the bellhops peeled off with Alan to a room on the end of one cottage row. Julie and Amanda were at the opposite end of the row, and they said, “Ooooh,” in tandem when they saw where they’d be staying.

“We can be totally uncool about this now, yes?” Amanda pleaded.

“Yes!” Oh dear God, yes yes yes! If you couldn’t be uncool about something this awesome, there was no hope for you.

They jumped and squealed at each other, amusing the bellhop. “I hope you ladies continue to enjoy your stay this much.”

“I’m sure we will,” Julie assured him, bounding across the room to hand him a tip. “Thank you!”

“Mahalo!”

Eeee!

When he closed the door behind them they burst into squeals again, clapping in delight like little kids.

The room was like something from a movie, all hardwood floors and gorgeous modern furniture. A bathroom three times bigger and about fifty times cooler than her standard-issue apartment bath. The fresh flowers throughout the suite were the giant red phallic-looking ones and tiger lilies, floral enticements to debauchery. Julie hadn’t needed enticing. She’d arrived in Hawaii hoping to accomplish some debauchery, but the flowers definitely helped set the mood.

“Jules, it looks like your condo!”

“Not my condo yet. Not for another three years.” Julie had some saving still to do before she could afford the home of her dreams, a stylish place off Santana Row in the city. But she would get there. As long as she stayed on her current trajectory, by the time she was thirty she would be waking up in a sleek, modern, sophisticated space straight out of Architectural Digest. Walking down to the Row for coffee on weekend mornings, where she could sit outside on the plaza and read and watch the people. Strolling over to the indie movie theater to catch an art film if the whim struck her, or inviting people over to go to the wine bar in the middle of the square without the need to drive home afterward. She could even ride her bicycle to work from there, a bonus she’d never anticipated when she first concocted her plan at age twenty.

And Amanda was absolutely right. This bore a marked resemblance to the place she had her eye on. Further inspiration to keep her nose to the grindstone.

“Movie stars stay here,” Amanda reminded her as they pored through the fruit basket.

Julie nodded as soberly as she could manage. “They don’t appreciate it like we do, though.”

Another round of Eeeeee! followed, because they simply couldn’t help themselves. It was that kind of place.

They explored the whole suite, then headed back out the glass doors to sit on the private lanai, with its prime view of the beach and the pristine turquoise water.

And an even better rear view of a passing jogger.

All high-pitched squealing stopped as the friends watched the guy lope away from them on the far edge of the lawn that ran between their room and the beach proper. He disappeared beyond the bushes that separated their cluster of rooms from the next, and Julie finally exhaled.

“Whoa.”

Amanda wasn’t usually an ogler, but she clearly hadn’t been able to help herself. Julie couldn’t blame her. The jogging man had looked so...dangerously fit. A whole new realm of potential vacation activities suddenly opened up in her mind. Debauchery plus.

“Is it just me,” Amanda asked, “or did he look familiar?”

“Not just you. I didn’t see his face, but he still looked like James Bond. One of the awesome Bonds, too. He totally looked capable of kicking someone’s ass while making a tux look good. I wonder how long he’s staying? I didn’t see a wedding ring....”

“You took the time to look at his finger? Wow. I didn’t even think of that. I was mesmerized by the ass and his ability to carry off a crew cut. For me, a guy like that is completely theoretical, anyway, so why worry about whether he’s actually with someone? It could only hinder the fantasizing.”

Julie shrugged, looking out at the ocean again. The water was too blue to believe, and its constant, gentle roar soothed her, even as she tensed at the idea of relying on fantasizing about guys who could only ever be theoretical. She was trying to get away from that reality. Instead, she might very well be doomed to spend four days getting a crash course in exactly why it was such a bad idea, if Alan found a vacation hookup and she didn’t.

“It matters. He’s a different person if he’s with somebody. And what if you fantasize now, then have to watch him mack on some other girl every night at dinner? Or some guy, or whatever. That shit gets painful. Better to be forewarned. But hey, why should he only be theoretical to you? You’re adorable. If he’s single you should go for it.” After all, there had to be plenty of other likely prospects. It was a huge resort.

She knew this kind of encouragement went right past her five-foot-two pixie-haired friend, but kept saying it in the hopes it would stick one day. Instead, Amanda had seemed even more down on herself since breaking off her engagement the previous year. Julie never understood why Amanda couldn’t see any of her own appeal. Petite, delicate, girly and nothing like her gangly, awkward best friend.

Julie had grown into her tallish athletic figure and added some curves as an adult, but she still felt like that same dorky kid inside. Her hair was thick, brown, curly and unruly, and she had decided at a certain point in high school that she refused to consider it the bane of her existence. That would be letting the hair win, and she couldn’t let that happen. But now she rarely considered it at all, just shoving it into a ponytail or bun and forgetting about it for the rest of the day. No amount of product or appliance could turn it into soft, springy waves as seen on TV, not that she’d really devoted much effort to trying. Her attention was on work, and on completing the ambitious ten-year plan she’d begun back in college. Her only fashion obsession was big earrings, of which she owned far too many.

Amanda, on the other hand, got her hair cut once a month, and always seemed to know which products to use to bend it to her will. She professed to actually enjoy shopping for clothes, and she didn’t still own the same makeup that she’d used in college just because it hadn’t run out yet.

Julie often wondered if they would have ever become best friends if it weren’t for the alphabet. Growing up, they sat together so often in school—Julie Perfetto, Amanda Perry—that it was like the universe was pushing them together. Neither girl had ever regretted it, but they were definitely an odd couple.

Amanda peered after the guy, shaking her head. “I’m a stocky elf. You’re gorgeous, and you’ve seen all the James Bond movies. You’re like Adventure Girl. You should go after him yourself.”

“Are you bailing out on the frisky vacation-hookup high jinks?” They’d planned to be each other’s moral support in this wild scheme.

“No, I’m still one hundred percent on board with that. I need to get laid like whoa,” Amanda clarified. “I’m going insane.”

“It hasn’t been that long.”

She shot her friend a look. “It has been ten months, ten days, and I lost track of the hours at daylight savings time, but it’s a lot of hours. It has been a long time. I have run through way too many batteries. Jeremy may have been an asshole, but he’s a tough act to follow.”

Julie flashed back to Amanda’s ex-fiancé. The perfect man, really...except for the part where he’d apparently expected Amanda to give up her own very solid career in San Jose to move with him to Seattle for his start-up. Their breakup had been unexpected, abrupt, and more than a little acrimonious.

Resorting to battery toys alone for that long seemed a little silly, though. With dismay, she realized her own dry spell was actually longer than Amanda’s. Over a year. She hadn’t even dated anybody since The Incident at the Christmas party.

“Definitely time for some vacation naughtiness, then,” she said, when she became aware that Amanda was still waiting for a response.

“I agree. And while the idea of a stranger still freaks me out a little, I’ve come up with a plan. Probably a really bad one, if history tells me anything, but at least it’s something.”

Julie only knew one guy her friend could have already made a plan about that involved history. She started to flat out ask if Amanda was talking about Alan, but something stopped her. Possibly the cold knot of something icky that had begun to form in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t put a name to the ick, which bothered her. It was more a general feeling of wait, now...wait. No. Which was stupid. She had no claim on Alan, and objectively speaking he was a great guy. Why wouldn’t she want Amanda to investigate further? Hell, she’d already tried to fix them up once before. Three years ago. When she hardly knew Alan.

“I have more immediate concerns. They’re about getting my bikini on and finding a fancy umbrella drink before dinner. You in?”

“Julie, honey, I’ve never been so in.”