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“We've discussed this, Simon. You need to see what it's like in the ranks. To be a boss, you have to be ruthless. You grew up sheltered and need this time to get that savage edge,” he says, taking a sip from his champagne flute.
I want to roll my eyes and argue, but I decide to leave it there. What I do in my spare time is no concern of my father’s, and I'm curious how difficult it will be for me to get past his security measures. Plus, it will be fun to see if his tech guys have any real security skills.
Chapter 4
Leilani
I open the yoga studio door and find Jennifer in a downward-facing dog position. I roll my eyes as I let the door close quietly behind me. Unfortunately, the heifer changes her position and sees me; twisting up her face. I go to the back of the room and drop off my bag, taking a spot to the side but still in the back, well away from her. I take deep breaths in and out as I feel the sensation in my calves stretch as I bend forward to touch my toes and raise my body up, so my fingers are skimming the floor. I move into plank pose and then upward facing dog. After a few breaths, I move into downward facing dog, completing my sun salutation. When I stand up straight again, I see Jennifer glaring at me through the floor-to-ceiling mirrors. I roll my eyes and take my left hand across my body, and link my other arm, so I get a good stretch in my shoulder blade. Since I was four years old, I've known Jennifer, and our mothers, who were good friends, signed us up for hula.
A pang hits my throat as I think how graceful and beautiful my mother was, especially when she danced. I've never had that grace and quit going to hula lessons a few years ago.
Jennifer talks to me through the mirror. “So, Leilani, still spinning records?”
I ignore her and continue to stretch, reaching my fingers behind my back and clasping them.
“I'm going to the mainland in the spring to dance at an international dance show,” she says, turning to me and smirking.
I roll my eyes and flick her off, knowing the whole dance troupe would be going, and she's not unique. I imagine Mr. Pele; my old dance teacher is proud though, so I'm glad for him.
I sigh and lean my head to the left and right, slowly working out the tension as I move my arms forward and back a few times, staying silent.
Jennifer decides to be brave and says, “It's too bad you suck at dance. Good thing your mother is dead, so she can't see what a failure you are.”
I admit, keeping control of my temper on most days is a challenge. Still, with bitches like Jennifer, it isn't long before I detonate.
Before she can do anything, I have my hand around her throat, applying pressure. At the exact moment, three other girls open the studio door, taking in the scene in front of them, but are too chicken shit to do anything as one of them screams. When I see Jennifer’s, face turn a different shade, I release my hands. She takes that opportunity to push me enough that some of my weight shifts, but I'm fucking mean when I'm mad, and I slap her across the face. I know it stings because her face turns with the motion. I pull her hair hard, and she screams. At that moment, I feel someone push me from the side, and I topple over, not expecting the force. I look up and realize one of the girls that walked in has gotten some moxie all of a sudden because she's standing over me, breathing hard. I get to my feet quickly and kick her, and she stumbles back, yelling. Jennifer is on her feet, and she's pushing me, but I brace myself and push back. She isn't expecting it, and she flops back on her ass. I'm about to dive on her again when I feel strong hands from behind me, pulling me away.
“What is the meaning of this?” Mrs. Lester bellows.
The girl who pushed me is sobbing and hiccups. “She attacked Jennifer for no reason.”
“Oh, please! Jennifer is not innocent in this,” I seethe.
“Leilani, come with me. I'd like to talk to you outside. Girls, do not leave. I need to speak to you as well,” Mrs. Lester demands.
I go outside when she guides me to the door, walking away from the building as I try to calm down because all I want to do is go back in that room and finish what I started.
“Leilani, I think you should go home,” Mrs. Lester starts.
“Wait, are you kicking me out? What about the other girls?” I growl.
Just before she can answer, a handful of other girls walk up. “Girls, we're going to be starting a little late. Go to the garden; we'll have practice outside today,” she instructs as I watch the girls stare at me with curious expressions on their faces.
“Leilani, I have no intention of letting Jennifer or anyone in the studio practice today. But it's you I worry about the most,” she says with a frown.
“Why?” I ask incredulously, crossing my hands across my chest.
“Your temper rules you. You always let Jennifer upset you,” Mrs. Lester says.
“Wait, I wasn't the only one fighting in there,” I lean forward, putting my hands on my hips, not enjoying the fact that this woman has known us a long time.
Mrs. Lester turns away from me, heading to the door, “Go home, Leilani. Don't come back until you can be calm and respectful. I'm going to tell the other girls the exact same thing.”
As I stomp off, I mutter, “I'm so sure that's what you're telling them.”
***
Later that night, I arrived at Bryce Mitchell's house. I've known him since we were in elementary school. His parents own some hotels on the mainland. I don't usually hang out with his crowd, but I'm too keyed up tonight and figure maybe it will be fun. I'm not in his mansion ten minutes before I'm regretting my decision to come here. The place is packed; some faces are familiar while others are not. Last I heard, he'd graduated from the University of California and was back hosting his usual Saturday night party. I head out to the backyard where music equipment is set up not far from the pool. If I thought the inside was crazy, it has nothing on this back area. There are people in swimsuits and trunks, laughing and talking. I see the blonde who just put on Rihanna'sDiamondsleave. I head to the table and scroll through the music choices. When I find what I'm looking for, I don't even look up and change it to the songJailhouse Rock. I hear some groans, but don't pay attention to them. Elvis always soothes me, and I'm feeling nervous with this crowd. I'm still upset about getting kicked out of yoga earlier.
