Heat Wave (12 page)

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.

“I was thinking about bringing back Mai Tai hour on Fridays, and starting up the Wednesday night Luas, just like we did a few years ago. There are only three official luaus on the island and we know that when guests come to the island they’re looking for the total Hawaiian experience. It’ll take some extra work but we need to capitalize on that.”

“Um, what’s Mai Tai hour?” I ask.

Logan finally looks at me. “Every Friday from four to six, we serve free Mai Tais by the pool.”

“Everyone loves free booze,” Charlie adds.

“Then why did you stop doing it?” I ask. I look to Daniel, our resident booze expert. “Too expensive?”

Daniel shakes his head. “Mai Tais are some of the cheapest drinks you can make. It’s mainly fruit juice and a splash of a few cheap rums.”

“We stopped,” Logan says, eyeing me sternly, as if I’m stepping on his toes. Which I probably am. “Because there was no way to directly measure if it had any influence on whether guests stayed here or not. And if you can’t measure it, then it’s not worth the money.”

“But what if you advertised it so that tourists in Hanalei came here for it? Or people on the way to Ke’e Beach or the Kalalau Trail? Or Tunnels? Put a sign on the side of the road, everyone welcome.”

“No one is stopping just for free watered-down drinks,” Logan says gruffly.

“Maybe not, but what if we offered free pupus as well?”

Like clockwork, Charlie snickers at “pupus.”

“And who would be making them? You?” Logan asks. “You’re willing to do extra work? Because you know I won’t be paying you for that.”

I purse my lips for a moment, narrowing my eyes at him. It feels like the whole room is watching us with bated breath. Lord knows how many of us do extra work on the side, from shuttle-bus driving to handling luggage to being a barista, without getting extra compensation. “I wouldn’t dream of you paying me extra. I’d do it for the sake of the hotel and everyone who wants to keep their job here. Plus the fact that I enjoy cooking. I actually like my job.”

“I’d be down for that,” Johnny speaks up. “It will bring in new people. They’ll take a look at the hotel, see the restaurant, the location. Our drop-dead gorgeous staff.” Everyone laughs as Johnny pretends to preen himself.

“We’ll see,” Logan says, looking back to the paper.

“Hey, she was right about the seating in here, aye,” Johnny goes on. God bless him. “The customers are happy and no one minds the wait for a table.”

Damn. If looks could kill. I half expect flames to shoot out of Logan’s head.

But he just clears his throat again and says, “The luau itself will attract people from all over the island. We’ll deal with that first and see how it goes.”

Johnny looks at me and shrugs to say that he tried. I could kiss my co-worker right now, just for that.

When the meeting is over and everyone starts scattering, Kate hurrying out the restaurant and back to reception, Logan walks over to Nikki and Daniel. “You guys ready?”

I know I should head back to my room and get a head start on my day off. Pick a book on my e-reader, bring it to the beach with some snacks and work on my tan, maybe Facetime Claire again since it’s been a week since I last talked to her.

But I don’t. I don’t know why and I can’t explain it, but I walk right over to them and I say, “What are you guys doing?”

“Nothing you’d be interested in,” Logan says gruffly, obviously still miffed I spoke up earlier.

“We’re hiking the Kalalua Trail,” Daniel speaks up, ignoring the glare from Logan. “It’s been dry the last few days so it’s easier. Less mud.”

“We’re only taking it to Hanakapiai Beach and turning back,” Nikki says with a bright smile. “You should come. You haven’t done it yet, have you?”

I hadn’t and it was one of the things Kate promised to take me on, except that our schedules keep having us miss each other.

“I’d love to,” I say quickly before Logan say anything else discouraging. He obviously doesn’t want me along and that makes me want to come even more. “Give me five minutes—do I need to bring anything?”

“Backpack, water, snacks, a hat, sunscreen,” Daniel lists off.

“And good shoes you don’t mind getting dirty. Sneakers or hiking boots if you have them,” Nikki adds.

I nod and flash Logan an overly sweet smile. “Be right back.”

I swear I can hear him grumble as I hurry back to my room.

Five minutes later I’ve changed into running shoes (which have already turned red from Kauai’s famous dirt), shorts and a tee shirt, have slathered on sunscreen, stuck on a baseball cap that says Java Kai, and crammed a few organic quinoa bars and some dried mango into my backpack along with bottles of water.

I stop by reception and tell Kate, “I’m doing the Kalalau Trail with Logan, Nikki, and Daniel. If we’re not back in, well, however long it takes to get to that beach and back, send help.”

“You’re going with Logan?” she asks, brows raised. “Girl, you crazy.”

I shrug, slipping my fingers underneath by backpack straps and biting back a smile. “You have no idea.”

The four of us are riding in Logan’s black Jeep, the first time I’ve been in his car. Like I expect, it smells like him, something like mint and coconut, and the seats are covered in sand. Daniel and Nikki are already in the back so I have no choice but to sit in the passenger seat. I don’t look over at him as we take a right onto the road, heading toward the Na Pali Coast, though I can occasionally feel his eyes on me. Sometimes I think he’s staring at my legs. Sometimes I think I’m losing the plot a little.

The start of the Kalalau Trail is located at Ke’e Beach and the Na Pali Coast State Wilderness Park, which is only a ten-minute drive down the road to where the highway literally ends. You can almost drive all the way around the island, but the jagged and iconic Na Pali Coast prevents it. The only way you can keep going is to get out of your car and hike in, which is what we’re about to do. We’re not doing the crazy version though. Daniel tells me that this one should only take three hours round trip—any further and we would have to pack in a tent and bring a permit. Apparently that hike gets pretty gnarly, and for someone like me who is sensitive to heights, it’s not the best idea.

I’ve been to Ke’e Beach at the end of the road and gone snorkeling once with Charlie, so I’m not surprised to see the parking lot is absolutely packed. We have to park the Jeep on the side of the road a mile away and walk from there.

But in Kauai, even walking along the side of a road is a near magical experience. Yes, we’re passing countless cars and more tourists and locals prepared for the hike, but we’re also crossing fresh streams that spill across the road, thick, fragrant jungle peppering the sides with the occasional chicken scratching around in the bushes.

There’s even a wet cave underneath a sheer overhanging wall. The water in the cave doesn’t look too inviting—it’s dark and disappears into blackness the more it goes under the rock—but I have to stand back and stare up at the vines as they tangle down the guano-stained walls, the lush vegetation that creeps over the side. Beyond that, the soaring peaks of the mountains reach up into the clouds. It nearly gives me vertigo.

“You and Juliet swam in here, didn’t you?” Nikki asks Logan.

He nods. “Not much to see. Cold as hell.”

“Wait,” I say, “Juliet swam in there?” I point to the dark water. The Juliet I knew never would have done something so…well, creepy-looking. Swimming in a dark, claustrophobic cave with a low ceiling? No thank you.

He nods. “She did. I may have coerced her into it, but she did it. To prove a point. She was bloody stubborn most days. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” he mumbles that last bit under his breath.

I’m hit with the strangest feeling: jealousy. Juliet may have been stubborn, but even so I never knew her to do something as fun and adventurous as going swimming in a cave. And yet Logan, he got to witness that. To know her. Something I’d never have.

As if all my feelings so far weren’t confusing enough.

CHAPTER NINE

We continue walking along the road until we get to the trailhead. A bunch of walking sticks are stacked up against a rock as a steady stream of hikers head up and down the path that leads straight into the thick jungle. Even though it hasn’t rained for a few days—least not at the hotel—the trail is slick and slippery in sections as we pass caution signs warning of hazardous cliffs, rock slides, and flash floods. I have to wonder how dangerous the hike really is.

I’m probably in the best shape I’ve been in a long time, thanks to all the fresh fruit and vegetables, the surfing and swimming and daily jogs on the beach I’ve been doing, but even so the start of the trail isn’t easy. It snags and swerves, hugging the edges of the cliffs, the path of red dirt narrow in sections. Logan leads the party, followed by Daniel, then Nikki, then me. I’m slow, so every time Nikki looks over her shoulder at me, I have to give her a reassuring wave to keep going.

We reach the first view part of the trail, where a lot of people turn around. I’m breathing hard, sweat streaming off my face as I try and take a picture of Ke’e Beach from above. Here, you can see how clear the water is, the color is a brilliant blue, interspersed with dark reef. Waves lap the golden shore as the palm trees sway in the breeze. It’s dizzyingly beautiful, and even though I know my company must have seen this all a million times, I take a moment to soak it all in. I’m also trying to catch my breath and not look like I’m having a fucking heart attack.

Honestly, if that was the whole hike, I’d be satisfied. I want to tag along with one of the groups heading back down the hill, go jump in the ocean to cool off, and pass out on the sand.