Somewhere on Maui (an Accidental Matchmaker Novel) (15 page)

After securing her promise to conceal his name and identity, he
’d waxed expansive, bragging of his conquests and techniques. Zoe had begun to tape it after her hand couldn’t keep up with his disclosures. Now, in summarizing it, she bulleted his favorite lines to gain trust and access to a woman’s emotions and hope, what he used to get them into the bedroom on the first date.

She
shuddered, remembering the sparkle of pride in his eyes, the arrogant tilt of his chin. He profiled his targets, as he called them: women who’d recently divorced or been dumped, plain women, intimidatingly intelligent women, women with a caregiver complex. He had a different persona for each type of woman, and it seemed never to fail to get him into bed on the first date.

Zoe wondered if any of the readers of this article would be able to avoid
men like this and if he was doing any real harm. Sure, he was a slimy bastard who was after only one thing, but it appeared (at least, according to him) that he did that one thing very well.

Zoe had been
repelled by him, but she could objectively see both his appeal and the possible benefit of having some revenge sex right after her divorce, something she’d thought of but had been too shell-shocked to follow through on. So if Romirez was a sexual predator, at least he was good in bed, and maybe these women didn’t want more from him.

“
So do they want to see you again?” she’d asked, her turquoise shawl tight around her shoulders.

“
Always.” Romirez smacked his lips over his drink. “You’re recently divorced. Have you slept with anyone since the ex?”

“
No.”

“
Very therapeutic, all the women tell me. You should consider it.” His teeth were very white and sharp, she remembered. A wolf indeed. She included that detail.

It was time to wrap up the article, and now she was stuck. She really didn
’t have a conclusion yet. She didn’t know how she felt about the experiences she’d had so far—it was as if her choice to write the piece and enter the Internet dating arena from there had polluted her opportunity to really experience it herself, unbiased, as a customer.

Still. Her mind wandered to Adam, to his unforgettable smile. To Brad with his aqua-blue eyes.

She’d met two amazing men there, along with some duds. In the scope of things, that was more, and potentially better, than meeting no one in the same amount of time. Thinking of Adam, she logged into her e-mail, her heart picking up speed. Sure enough, he’d sent her a message.

Hi Zoe. Thank you for
your picture. I put it in my phone with your number. For later, whenever we both feel ready. So I feel silly, but here’s one of me. My sister took this one just yesterday.

He
’d embedded a photo. In it Adam wore a black tank shirt that read
Rodrigues Builds Best
with a pair of shorts, and his feet were bare. His arms were each around a brown-eyed, dark-haired, smiling child, and he was gazing up at the camera, the remarkable smile she’d spotted in the emergency room lighting the picture.

She clicked on the photo, blowing it up, studying it with her writer
’s eye. Black brows arched above those golden-brown hawk’s eyes. A dimple creased his cheek. A strong jaw bracketed that diverting smile, set on a neck that was wide but not bullish like the weightlifter’s had been. His shoulder muscles bulged behind the children’s heads, but the long-fingered hands wrapped around their little bodies held them with a touch that seemed exquisitely gentle.

The kids were adorable. Diego grinned
through a thicket of black bangs, while Serena’s smile was shy, her head tucked in the notch between Adam’s neck and shoulder, her eyes bright as she peeked up through long lashes. The photo brought a lump to her throat. Her hand covered her mouth as she studied every tiny bit of information it could give her, including the room behind them.

They were seated on a rattan couch with cotton cushions done in hibiscus print. The floor beneath Adam
’s long, tanned feet was gleaming teak. Off to the left, a glass ball lamp hung over a square table, and she could see the silhouette of another man holding a baby.

Charlotte
must have been the sister who’d taken the photo.

Zoe
clicked back out of the photo and continued reading.

I understand why you
’d be afraid of anger, and I want you to know I’ve never struck anyone who didn’t deserve it. I know how that sounds, but listen to this first. One was a guy in high school who called my sister a whore. Another was a guy who ripped off my job site and then framed me for it. And the guy who got me the anger-management referral? Just gave him a few choice words and a shove. Still, I know what I’d been feeling inside and that it could easily have been more, and that’s why I’m working on it.

My father was a “
man’s man.” Head of Rodrigues Construction for forty years, he was used to being in charge at work and he was definitely in charge at home. He had a temper, but Mama managed him really well, and though he took me out to the woodshed with a belt a few times, I deserved it.

I grew up in a happy home. We weren
’t perfect, but we thought we were, which amounts to the same thing. And when I went to college, I’d planned to open my own architecture firm and work alongside the family business but in a different way—designing sustainable buildings that would enhance life in Hawaii. But right after I graduated and came home to begin my business, my dad had the first of several strokes. I ended up having to help out at the business to take care of my mom and sisters, who were still in school, and after my father died a few years later, I stepped into his shoes full-time and never did get to work in architecture.

I still dream of creating buildings that contain everything peopl
e need: light from the sun, energy and food production, waste disposal—all within one bio-sensitive building. It’s possible nowadays and will become more and more of a trend. I hope someday I can get the seed money to build even one. Sorry to go on and on, but these are the things I care about. The things I’m about. Best, Adam.

S
he downloaded his photo to her phone and saved it with his number.

She wanted to think on a reply, so she navigated away and worked on her conclusion for the article.

The Internet is a modern connective tool. It’s become woven through the fabric of our lives in the way that other activities like the market, church, work, and educational settings were in the past. We still have those settings, but now a flow of information and connectivity infuses them, which has made the world a much smaller place and finding that special someone possible with just a few clicks of a mouse. That doesn’t mean finding love has gotten any easier or less risky “IRL” (in real life) and wolves still roam among us, even better able than before to prey on the unwary. In spite of the risks, this journalist is keeping her profile active after this article experiment in hopes that someone in that stream of connectivity is the right one for her.

It was still rough, but she
’d send it to her editor anyway for the first editorial pass. Feeling that bubble of opposing nervousness and hope she’d become familiar with, she logged back into her e-mail and began:
Dear Adam…

Adam hung up his phone in the HQ trailer after checking on his mom. The kids were with their grandparents in Lahaina, and so far Mama was having a good day, eating a little something and working with her sister and Tami on canning the haul of lychees they’d picked. He glanced up from the plans and lists scattered across the battered steel desk at the sound of the door opening.

Boss Lady stepped in, followed by a
man. He was tall enough to need to bend his head to enter the low door. He wore a logoed polo shirt and had an expression on his barbered pale face of mild distaste.

“Good morning, Mrs. Lepler.” Adam had driven the kids to Lahaina at the crack of dawn to be at work on time.

“Good morning, Adam. Glad you could make it in to the job today.”

“Of
course. My mother’s home from the hospital and recovering well.” He waited to be introduced to the man, who was glancing around and finally came toward him, hand outstretched. “Adam Rodrigues. I’ve heard a lot about you. Cary Lepler.”

Adam shook the older
man’s hand, a fierce grasp in which Lepler over squeezed him, testing his strength and reaction. He allowed the vicious wrench of his hand and kept his face blank, though he couldn’t hide the wash of color thinking of what Alixia Lepler must have been saying about him. “A pleasure to have you visit the site, sir.”

“I wish I could say the same. My wife wants to fire you.” Lepler narrowed pale gray eyes at Adam.

“Oh, honey, jump right into the deep end of the pool, why don’t you?” Alixia Lepler cooed.

“No sense beating around the bush. Alixia’s filed a complaint against you with the contractor’s association. Would you like to resign, or shall we proceed with a civil case showing wrongdoing?” Lepler had an even, matter-of-fact tone that somehow made his words more menacing.

“On what grounds?” Adam’s mind was racing as he tried to assess his options. More information would give him time to consider.

“Negligence. Pandering. Nepotism,” barked Lepler. “And she doesn’t like
your attitude.”

“It wasn’t my work that was an issue,” Adam said, feeling a flush of anger at the same time as his heart thundered with apprehension. He tamped both down as he addressed Mr. Lepler. “I’m sorry to inform you, Mr. Lepler, that
your wife engaged in sexually harassing behavior toward me, and now she’s delivering on a promise to fire me and my crew if I didn’t do as she asked.”

“I’m well aware of how Alixia operates. What floats her boat.” Lepler flipped a hand, and Mrs. Lepler set her toned bottom on his desk and smiled. “You aren’t telling me anything I don’t know. However, we have an agreement and
it’s this: What Alixia wants, Alixia gets. And now she wants you fired. So you can go quietly, or you can go fighting.”

“Buy out my contract and I’ll go without tarnishing Mrs. Lepler’s reputation.” Adam’s mind had raced to a conclusion that was the best he could come up with. “Try to fire me without paying me, and I’ll make sure everyone in this community knows exactly what kind of
woman she is.”

Mrs. Lepler’s face turned red with rage. She whirled and swept the papers off his desk with a string of curses and remarks about Adam’s parentage. Cary Lepler stared hard at Adam, measuring his intent.

“Done,” Lepler said. “Come on, Alixia. We have a new contractor to hire.”

“And keep my crew on,” Adam said. Lepler paused by the door, didn’t turn back around, but gave one nod of his head, probably deciding Alixia’s spite was costing him enough. Adam exhaled as the mogul and his furious spouse banged the door shut behind them.

In the silence in the wake of their passing, Adam stood perfectly still. He reminded himself to breathe and did that for a few minutes, feeling stunned.

This was a good thing. He would have the free time to take care of his mother and the kids, and with the lump sum from the buyout of his contract, he could hire the private investigator his lawyer had suggested to gather information on Cherisse’s lifestyle and add credence to his guardianship claim.

He sat down heavily in his chair and pulled open the desk, searching for personal items.

Teddy banged the door open. “A-
man! Lepler’s saying you’re fired!”

“Yeah.” Adam located a cardboard box, began collecting his few possessions. “But I got them to buy out my contract and keep you guys working.
It’s going to be fine.”

“Damn that
woman!” Teddy geared up to go on, and Adam stopped him with a hand.

“Take the high road, Ted. That’s what I’m doing. And be glad I was able to help you keep
your job.”

“I am glad about that, A-
man. But it’s just not right.”

“Who writes the checks is
who’s right,” Adam said. “And I needed some time off anyway, to deal with my kids and my mom.”

He was surprised at how few of his personal things occupied the office. He picked up his tool belt, cinched it on to carry it, and grabbed the lightweight box. When Teddy looked as if he was to pick up the mess left all over the floor around his desk, Adam said, “Don’t touch that. Let the new guy see what he’s going to be dealing with.”

Adam went outside carrying the box and made his way through the exclaiming, declaiming crew to his truck, giving man hugs and back slaps. He stowed his gear in the truck, gave them all a thumbs-up, and pulled out onto the road. It wasn’t until he was driving down the hill that he began to shake and tremble, a bone-deep shock setting in.

He’d never been fired in his life, and it didn’t feel good.

Adam carried his lunch box into Dr. Suzuki’s office. He hadn’t gone home, figuring he had a plan for the day and he’d deal with telling everyone after talking to his “coach.” He’d gone surfing immediately after leaving the job
site, and despite the choppy, windblown conditions, pitting himself against the elements and getting even a measure of the exhilaration that surfing yielded him had helped calm the shakes.

He seated himself on the couch before the composed psychologist, immaculate in a cream-colored dress. As he took a drink from his thermos, his hand began to shake again. He set the thermos down with a bang and sat back on the couch. His appetite was gone in spite of all the exertion.

“Boss Lady beat me. I’m fired as of today.”

“Oh no, Adam.” Dr. Suzuki’s eyes widened and her brows rose. “How?”

“It’s all right, though. I got them to keep my crew on and buy out my contract. It’s okay.” He explained what had happened. He’d checked his work e-mail on his phone and seen that they’d already wired most of the amount of his contractual bid into his bank account, holding back a few thousand for “litigation purposes.” He’d already decided to let that slide. “The Leplers aren’t eager to have me talking about the situation. This is good, actually. I’ve got mostly full pay, my guys are still working, and now I have time to take care of Mama and the kids.”

“Kids?” Dr. Suzuki glanced up.

“Yeah. Man, it seems like I haven’t been here in ages. So much has happened.” He described Cherisse’s drop-off of the children, his mother’s heart attack, and the plan to get custody of the children, which was already underway. “Things are moving fast. With this infusion of cash, I will be able to pay for the private investigator my lawyer wanted me to get and can get a rush on my case moving forward.”

“Wow, Adam. How has
your anger been through all this?”

“Surprisingly manageable.” Adam felt a little steadier and was able to drink from his thermos without it rattling against his teeth. “I felt angry with the Leplers but kind of relieved too—the worst-case scenario happened and I feel like I came out as well as I could. I don’t know why I’m shaking though.” The tremor had started up again, and he wrapped his arms around himself to still it.

“I think you’re in shock.”

“Yeah. I guess. I’ll have the space to do what I need to do—but I don’t want to go home.” The trembling increased, and he hunched forward off the couch, containing it. “I’ve never been fired before. I feel something. Something terrible.”

“What is it? Close your eyes. Focus and tell me.”

Adam closed his eyes. Immediately, he felt a whirling sensation, so he popped them open again. “Shame,” he whispered. “I’m shame.”

“You mean ‘ashamed.’” Dr. Suzuki enunciated the word.

“No, shame. I stay shame. That’s how we say it here.” He enunciated right back at her. “I thought you knew pidgin.”

“I’m learning. I’m from Seattle.”

“Oh. Well, I’ve never been fired before. I’ve never failed at anything before. Ever.”

“Ever? Really?”

A pause as Adam considered.

“Well, my marriage was a failure. But I don’t think that was my fault.”

“This wasn’t either.”

“But how do I explain it?”

“Say enough to tell people close to you that you were being blackmailed and wouldn’t go along.”

“Blackmailed with what? I can’t tell them the woman wanted sex and I wouldn’t play!” Adam felt the rage and shame so deeply, and suddenly he shot to his feet. He felt as violated as if he’d complied with Alixia’s demands. He paced back and forth in the small space.

“Adam. Do
your breathing. You didn’t do anything to her or with her. You acted with integrity.”

“Yeah. But a part of me wanted to. I wanted to…” He ground his teeth. “I wanted to show her who was boss. I wanted to violate her right back for how she was sliming me!”

Dr. Suzuki didn’t respond as Adam paced and did his breathing until he was able to sit back down, pressing his fists to his eyes. “I’m so messed up. Zoe would never want to be with me with all these burdens, with the ugliness that’s in me.”

“Zoe?
Who’s this?” Dr. Suzuki caught his eye, and there was a sparkle in hers that seemed like she was smiling at a secret joke.

“This
woman from the Internet dating. We’ve been e-mailing. I really like her. We’re going slow.” He described their correspondence. “I have to get a grip on all this, be worthy of her. But there’s no guarantee she even feels the same, will ever want to go out with me.”

“Oh, I suspect she will. Want to go out with you, I mean.”

“Maybe. But I feel as ashamed as if I did what Alixia wanted. I hate how much I wanted to hit her.”

“
You’re human. She was trying to provoke that reaction. It’s what we do with those thoughts that sets us apart from the animals. Frankly, I’m amazed that you had the presence of mind to blackmail the Leplers back, even getting them to keep your guys working. Far from a failure, this is a victory.” Dr. Suzuki listed off why she thought so: He hadn’t given in to the Leplers’ provocation. He’d advocated for himself and others. He’d handled his stress by going surfing rather than in an unhealthy way like drinking or fighting.

“Okay. I’ll think on what
you’re saying.” He felt his appetite come back, and he opened his lunch box. Even though he’d packed it himself that morning, it reminded him of his mother. As he ate, he described the events leading to her recovery at home. “She seems to be doing well. I think having the kids at the house is actually going to help her recover. They need her.” The bite of cold laulau he’d eaten congealed in his mouth and he drank from the thermos to move it down. “I need her to help me with them.”

“I think, for a
woman of her generation, there’s nothing more life-giving than being needed.” Dr. Suzuki smiled. “Keep me posted on how things go with Zoe. She sounds lovely.”

“She is. I’ll show you her picture.” He scrolled to it, handed his phone over. This time he definitely saw a look of suppressed glee in the psychologist’s eyes, but she only nodded and said, “Very pretty.”

“What? What are you laughing at?” Adam asked.

“Just what a small island it is.” Dr. Suzuki shook her head. “She’s beautiful. I hope it works out.”

At home, Adam greeted his aunt and cousin.

“Aunty’s back in bed, resting.” Tami was gorgeous, even with her hair springing out of the coil she’d wound it up into, with no makeup on and wearing a ratty pair of short shorts. “You’re home early.”

“Yeah. I wanted to get back and spend the evening with her alone. I have to get the kids tomorrow.” Adam escorted them out with many thanks, feeling a little guilty but unable to muster the wherewithal to tell them what had really gone down that day.

He padded quietly down the hall and checked in on his mother. She was sleeping on her side, turned away from the door, and all he could see was the fuzzy salt-and-pepper braid of hair trailing over the hand-sewn Hawaiian quilt she and Dad had received for their wedding so many years ago. He crept closer, leaning over to see that she was breathing, and her color was good.

Relieved, and reminded with a pang of sorrow of checking on the kids when they’d been sleeping toddlers, he withdrew. In his room, he turned on his computer and logged into his e-mail.

Zoe had replied to him.

Dear Adam: I actually laughed when you said you
’d never hit anyone who didn’t deserve it. Yeah, some people really seem to need a smackdown, but I’m happy to hear that, even though you’ve struggled, you haven’t given in to that aggression. My therapist tells me change doesn’t happen quickly. It’s the result of thousands of tiny choices—but they are worth making.