Page 27 of True Abandon

Back in the lobby, the line has shortened. I walk over to a free computer and log in to check my email. I’m not expecting any new clients for a few days which gives me a chance to work on some of the requests I have for guests checking in over the next few weeks and plan my parents’ epic vacation.

“I’ve been thinking about your suggestion, and I’m going to try it,” Lani says from her computer next to me. She’s in the middle of checking in a nice couple who are standing so close to one another, you may question whether they’re actually conjoined.

Tilting my head to the side, I squint my eyes trying to remember what I suggested.

“Ben Wa Balls,” she reminds me, and the husband of the couple she’s assisting coughs uncontrollably.

“Lani,” I whisper-yell, “wrong time, wrong place.”

“It’s okay,” the wife says. She’s wearing a turquoise tank top with the word “bride” in bedazzled rhinestones across the chest, and she leans into the man and starts nuzzling her nose against his neck. “We’re newlyweds. Isn’t that right, shmoopy?”

He turns his face to her. And they begin to make-out—right here in the lobby. The dark purple leis they received when they arrived at the hotel are being smashed by their oral attack.

Lani doesn’t seem fazed. “Guest services are available in the lobby if you’d like to plan any excursions during your stay.”

The man turns to his bride and smiles. “That’s up to my petal blossom over here. Anything special you’d like to do, sweets?”

Sweets…or petal blossom, whatever her name is, looks up at shmoopy and says with a sigh, “As long as I’m with you, I’m a happy woman.”

I try to contain the vomit rolling up my esophagus.

With a smile, Lani hands the couple an envelope with a key card sticking out. “Here you go, Mr. And Mrs. Waimer. You’re all set. This is a map of the property and a schedule of all activities and events. You’re in room two-thirteen. Just follow the hallway down to the first set of elevators and take that to the second floor. Aloha.”

The Waimer’s take off, looking as if they’re high on acid and totally unaffected by the fact the girl at the counter brought up sex toys while checking them in.

Lani turns to me and leans into the counter. “I ordered them on the internet. I was so confused. It seems too weird to place brass balls up my—”

“You got the brass ones?” I lean in and whisper despite not wanting to have this conversation here in any way.

“No good?”

“Well, they’re harder to, you know, keep in. Plastic is better for beginners.”

She smiles brightly. “How do you know so much about this?”

I shake my head, kicking myself for having this conversation after too many Mai Tai’s last week. What I failed to tell her was why I have a penchant for sex toys.

I shoo her away. “Check in your guests, will you?”

“Fine.” She turns back to her station. “Looks like it’s going to be a busy week.”

“Wedding season is in full effect.” I look at the computer screen in front of me and log in. “A bunch of us are going to Duke’s tonight for a drink. Wanna come?”

“You know me. I’ll drink to just about anything.” Lani looks straight on and, with a vibrant smile, greets the next guest. “Welcome to The Kauai Princess.”

I giggle to myself loving how she can turn on the charm. With her creamy skin, jet-black features, and delicate frame, she’s exotic with a softness to her. And while she’s friendly and sweet as honey, she can get feisty and knows how to have a good time. Lani is my favorite person I’ve met in Hawaii, hands down.

Looking at my calendar, I see a hot-pink icon next to one of the presidential suites that wasn’t there last night.

“When did the Pele suite get booked? I didn’t have anyone coming until next week. I have one suite booked for Tuesday, but I didn’t have anyone in the other room when I checked last night.” I’m speaking out loud, not necessarily to anyone.

Lani overhears and answers, “There shouldn’t be anyone in there.”

“That’s so weird. No one books a suite same day.” Especially since they usually come with a list of demands, restaurant reservations, excursions, you name it. There is always legwork to be done before the guests arrive. For someone to just walk in and book a room like that is unheard of—at least as long as I’ve been here.

It’s also extra unheard of for the room to be in the name of “Olivia Benson,” my favorite character on Law & Order.

“This is so bizarre.” I back away from the computer and walk into the back-office area and look for the hotel manager. “Has anyone seen Rafael?”