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“You want to protect her,” I admit for her after a lull in the conversation. “Massey…”
“What I tell you can’t leave this room. Understand? This isn’t just any other real estate deal you are handling.” She gives me a painful look. “This is my friend’s livelihood we are talking about. You take away their garage, no matter how much money you offer, they are still left with nothing. It won’t be enough to buy a scrap of land with the way property taxes have increased over the years. Plus, they won’t be bullied or swayed into a decision that affects more than just them.”
“Listen, I know I’m perceived as an asshole,” I say, to which she raises an eyebrow. I hold my hands up. “I’m doing my due diligence when it comes to this deal. She… I mean… Collins is an oddity that I can’t quite understand. I want to know more about her.”
What I don’t say is how she’s completely hypnotized me. She is naturally beautiful on her own, with no makeup or fancy accessories. She’s freakishly strong, but she is so kindhearted to the people she interacts with. Just being around her causes me to feel so relaxed, and desperate to be close to her. Hence why I was following her like a miserable dog. Being in her presence creates a level of ease.
“Their dad was a piece of shit. He up and left them to go start a new family on the mainland. They never heard from him again. Then, after the accident with their mom, Leland dropped out of high school and got his GED. He became the legal guardian of Lawson and Collins. Both Lawson and Collins barely made it to graduation. Collins and I used to climb in Lawson’s bed and press our feet against him, shoving him onto the floor to wake him up.” Massey giggles. Then her face falls. “We needed a ride to school. Lawson fell into a deep depression. He stayed out drinking all the time.”
She wipes a fallen tear from her cheek, reaching for a tissue to dab the rest of the tear-soaked memories.
“He drank all the time, for no reason. I couldn’t tell you the countless times Leland, Collins and I drove around the island trying to find him. We dragged him from parties and had to pick him up after he threw up on himself. Collins stayed up all night watching him to make sure he kept breathing, and skipped school to make sure he actually woke up. Leland kept working to keep the lights on and to pay for their moms long-term care.”
I really am an asshole. While my childhood days were filled with scheduled outings and orchestrated friendships, literal survival led to theirs. I had two parents that existed together, paid for the right education and connections. They were front and center of everything I did. I didn’t have to worry about a goddamn thing.
“Lawson has come a long way. So has Collins. This deal that you think is so great. Look deeper into what the effects it will have on the locals.”
My tongue wets my dry lips as I soak in Massey’s words.
“You know, Collins is the only one to visit their mom. She sits with her weekly. She physically healed, but she never fully recovered. Traumatic brain injuries are some of the most challenging cases for doctors to understand. Trauma affects people differently. With their mom, it completely wrecked her motor skills and memory. She was a vibrant and warm woman, who is left as a shell of a human. Do you know what it’s like to talk to someone you love and get nothing in return? Remember when I dragged you to our surf spot, and she was being a bit… difficult?” I nod, remembering her reaction to seeing me. The snarl that crossed her beautiful face. “She had just seen her mom.”
That’s why she was so dismissive and cold that day at the beach. The whole encounter comes full circle. My hand rubs against the bare skin of my jaw. I slide my palm down the green silk tie, and a perplexed feeling falls over me. My eyes fall to my brown Italian leather shoes. The hand stitching and custom soles play up the rest of the blue tailored suit I chose for today.
Pulling at my neck, it suddenly feels suffocating. After a moment of silence between us, I finally look at Massey.
“Thanks for telling me,” I say.
Pressing my lips together and offer Massey a smile, I stand, buttoning my jacket. The somber walk back toward my office feels heavier. Passing the thick framed windows, I look at the clear skies where white clouds overlook the tourist from the large hotels. Passing through the glass door of my office, I pull the door closed behind me. Sitting down, spinning around to face the large corner window. Spotting the surfers just beyond the tourist, I watch as they effortlessly cut through the waves.
This island has bewitched me. I think it’s the fucking sand I can’t seem to get rid of.
Spinning back toward my computer, I sign in and pull up the shared secure folder drive meant for partners and associates. The folder “Ala Hele o Puna” which is the main street where the auto shop, grocery stores, surf shops, and small boutiques sit facing the expansive beach. I drop a few form fillable documents into the folder that we use on all accounts. Searching several appraisers and sending off requests for job estimates, knowing the timeframe will be extensively longer with commercial properties. I’ll need an appraisal on all standing business’ that are in that block section to properly draft sales pitch quotes. A wave of uneasiness rolls through my gut. Then my stomach groans from my lack of food. I look at the clock to see its half past six. Shutting my computer down, I stroll through the already empty office building.
That uneasiness still rolling around and for the first time in my career, I’m not feeling completely on board with my father’s decision. Mr. Withers insistence for me to learn more about locals and get in their good graces seems to have backfired. Maybe that was his intention all along.
I don’t fuckin know.
I rush through the front door of my condo, needing to get out of these constrictive garments, desperate to relax. Throwing on cargo shorts and a polo shirt, I slip my feet into my brand-new loafers. There is a bar down the road I went on my first night out. A local spot where a lot of the business owners frequent.
I can hear the music before I see the rundown building. The drums pop against the guitar strings melody. Louder than I’m used to, I snag a beer, dropping a hundred-dollar bill on the distressed bar top. I take a swing of the ice-cold ale when a hand falls on my forearm.
Looking over, it’s two women I met my first night here. I internally groan at the sight, as her long manicured nails scrape over my skin.
“Hey, handsome. Remember me? Nevaeh. Spelled backwards for heaven,” she giggles. Her friend winks at me, licking her lips.
My jetlagged memory of my first night here reeks in my mind. I nod, not wanting to be rude. “I do remember you.” Looking down at her neon yellow fake nails.
A flash of honey blonde hair comes through the front door. I see her wave to the bartender, holding up two fingers. Gesturing to him that she’ll be outside waiting. There’s my opening. I shrug off the unwanted woman and head to the bar, gesturing for the bartender to meet me. He slides over, throwing the towel over his shoulder.
“I’ll take Collins her beer.” I hold my hand out. He eyes me, cocking his head to the side. I drop another fifty dollars on the top and tap the wood. “You can trust me.”
He pulls up two glass bottles, popping off the tops and sliding them over to me.
“Thanks.” I raise them in gratitude and walk out of the bar toward the beach where Collins is sitting by herself.
“Mind some company?”
Chapter 8
