Page 28 of The Seashell of ’Ohana

“So that’s why you look nice today,” she said.

It took me a second to register what she was talking about. I glanced down at my attire: a white tank under a sky-blue wrap and jeans. I always glossed on a light lipstick, but today I’d also brushed on light cream and brown eyeshadow and accentuated my cheekbones with baby pink. Looking nice was part of the job.

“What do you mean? I’m dressed how I do every day.”

“Umm-hmm.” Stella furrowed her brow and turned back to the monitor. “Whatever you say.”

Ugh. She was the absolute queen of the sarcastic tone.

Stella had thrown the same attitude toward Kate when she’d thought Kate had a thing for Lee. But my situation was different. Ian was bringing a potential client. I wanted to look professional and have a Hawaiian vibe, the way many clients expected. That was all.

Kate didn’t say anything, but she curled her lips smugly as she strolled to the back room. My heels thudded faster than hers as I followed, my paper mug of coffee in my hand. I placed it on the table with my purse and went to the shelf.

Kate tied on a full-body painting apron and secured on her earbuds. Humming a tune, she sat on her stool and started mixing colors. After gathering supplies and putting on my apron, I took the standing easel beside her and picked up a brush.

I cracked up a few times while listening to her out-of-tune singing. If it was a song I knew, I sang softly with her. Sometimes, I wished I could be carefree like her, belt out the lyrics and not care if anyone listened.

I got busy, lost to my brushstrokes on the canvas. A clear, cylindrical vase sat on a table, with stalks of violet, white, and pink orchids—a classic still-life with nearly photo-realistic details. It was a commissioned painting from a local. The morning went quickly, and before I knew it, it was almost noon.

“Kate. Abby. You have company,” Stella sang through the speakerphone.

Kate hurriedly took off her apron and tossed it on the chair. Before I had a chance to cap a tube of paint, she undid my apron, slipped it over my head, and tugged me out with her.

What were we, teenagers waiting for prom dates? But my heart hammered like a schoolgirl with a crush when I spotted Ian standing next to Lee at the front desk. He sported dark gray jeans and a white linen button-up. That devilish grin he produced when he saw me awakened hundreds of butterflies inside my chest.

Kate greeted Lee and Ian with a kiss and a hug, and I did the same. Ian smelled of mint and sea breeze.

Ian used to be a stockbroker, but he had taken his earnings and moved to real estate, investing in properties under Lee’s management. They had even purchased land together, planning to build hotels. Ian hadn’t shared this information with me. I’d gotten the scoop from Kate yesterday while we’d eaten shaved ice.

When I pulled away, I noted a woman standing behind him. She had her head down, fumbling for something inside her purse. She was beautiful, with shoulder-length red hair and a black dress that clung to her delicate curves. Her manicured nails sparkled, and so did her diamond earrings.

Her hazel eyes landed on me, and her smile vanished. Compared to this woman, I might as well have worn rags. I felt so small, and I wanted to melt into the tile floor.

“Abby, Kate, this is Kristina,” Ian said.

The woman extended her hand like a princess to Kate first, then me. She gave me a half-shake, taking only four of my fingers.

“I’ve heard wonderful things about your gallery from Ian.” Her voice was low and seductive, but she didn’t sound genuine. “It’s finally nice to meet you both.”

I didn’t know her, and already I didn’t like her. She reminded me of the snooty girls I’d avoided in high school. Her shoulder brushed against Ian’s arm as she sidled up to him as if he belonged to her. Maybe they were dating. Confused emotions erupted from me, jealousy foremost. I pushed back the resentment I had no right to feel.

Act professional.

Ian had every right to date who he wanted. But her? She seemed snooty and rude. I couldn’t imagine him with someone like that. Why not? A handsome, wealthy bachelor has needs, and surely women threw themselves at him.

“The pleasure is mine,” I said with as much pleasantry as I could muster. “Are you here to accompany Ian, or …?”

I met Ian’s gaze for further explanation. I wasn’t sure if she were the client he’d referenced in his text or if someone else was on their way. When Ian gave me a grin, she cleared her throat and spoke.

“Can you ship them? I’m interested in purchasing a few pieces for my new place in New York.”

Kristina peered up on the wall in front of her. Her gaze drifted from one frame to another. She had asked the question without looking my way.

“I can,” I said. “Come this way, please.”

As Lee, Kate, and Ian chatted, I escorted Kristina around the gallery.

I waved a hand to one of my favorites. “This one is called Tunnel of Trees. It’s a portrayal of the iconic one on Maluhia Road.”