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Chapter 9
Jenna
I have a lot to do. I leave the hotel after breakfast with Stacey and go to see Kaipo. The paps don't follow me—I'm not a player and I'm not a Jackson so they don't care. They stay around the hotel, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone worth their while.
The weather is beautiful. Clouds are white puffs in the sky and the sun beats down on the town. Despite wearing shorts and a tank top, I'm dying of heat. The greenery outlines the blue sky and the bluer ocean and it looks like something I usually see on postcards.
I rented a car for the day; it's better than to have to rely on cabs to take me all over town when I need to get things done. It feels good to have my own wheels and head out to take care of a business I understand. It keeps me grounded and distracts from everything else I don't want to think about.
Like Brett.
The little flower shop in town is bright in the morning light, with the colorful sign above the door welcoming me in.
Kaipo is behind the counter, arranging a bouquet when I walk in. Her olive skin is smooth, her dark hair pulled back in a bun, and she looks like she could still be in school.
“Good morning,” I say with a smile. “I’m Jenna Hall. I’m here to—”
“Jenna! Mrs. Jackson told me all about you; she said I have to look out for you. How are you? How is your stay on our beautiful island?”
I smile. “Very pleasant so far. I want to talk to you about the flowers for the wedding. Mrs. Jackson is worried you can’t fill such a large order.”
“Why?” Kaipo asks. “Mrs. Jackson worries all the time.”
I nod. That’s true. Laura is in a panic about the wedding, and that’s rubbing off on Stacey.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay arranging all the flowers for the day?”
“My cousin has a farm,” she says. “Hothouses, a lot of them. He’s helping me.” She fishes for a card behind the counter and hands it to me.
“Do you mind if I talk to him?” I ask.
Kaipo shakes her head. “Go see him; set yourself at ease.”
I nod and thank her before I get into my car and drive to the address on the card. When I get there, I’m surrounded by hothouses. The entire farm—as Kaipo called it—is a collection of different greenhouses that are filled to the brim with flowers of all kinds.
“Can I help you?” a young man asks, coming to my car when I get out. His skin is a deep tan, his hair dark, and his eyes are almost black. He has a friendly smile.
“I’m looking for…Hie?”
“That’s me,” he says.
I explain to him that Kaipo sent me and what my questions are.
“Come with me,” he says after hearing me out, and I follow him down a path that leads between all the glass structures. I can’t believe what I’m seeing—this is a professional operation; it’s not just a mom & pop store in someone’s backyard.
“These are your flowers,” he says, opening a glass door when we reach a large structure toward the back of the property. “You can have a look.”
I step into the humidity of the glass building and look around. Shelves upon irrigated shelves are lined with all the flowers Laura and Stacey wanted for the wedding, ready to use.
“Oh, this is great,” I say.
“This is what we do,” Hie says with a smile. “Flowers. Big business.”
“I see,” I say, nodding. I’m satisfied. It’s one thing ticked off my list, and it will save Laura a lot of time and money getting more flowers imported for the wedding. I snap a couple of pictures to show her. She was panicked for nothing. I hope that things will be this simple all around. In my experience as an event coordinator, there’s always something that will go wrong. But it’s not this, so that’s one less thing.
I thank Hie, and we walk back to my car. He explains how he got started, a whole long story about how it was only a few flowers and expanded from there. I listen politely until we reach my car.
“Don’t worry about the big day. You’re our number-one priority,” he says.
