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Chapter 4
Victor
Hawaii is the last place I want to be. I’ve been here for a month and I am miserable. I’m not made for the surf and sand. Give me the fog of exhaust fumes that fill the city air and asphalt that meets concrete. My father sent me here to help close a deal for the West Coast firm. As a bicoastal firm, our agency handles everything any lawyer could think of, from litigation to property disputes, and even real estate closings. We look at ourselves to handle high-end properties, and that’s precisely why I am here. Typically, I can persuade anyone to do what I want.
In this section of the island, we have a developer who wants to buy it and build luxury homes and high-end stores. It’s an in-demand area, and because of it being lower income, property sales are much lower. People will move if you offer the right dollar amount. I do my research to figure out what makes these locals tick so I can figure out what they would accept. Mostly, at my father’s encouragement, I’ve been going out to a few bars and meeting local people. Getting the lay of the land.
Thankfully, this stay is temporary. Once everything is in order and closed, I’ll go back to my high-rise apartment in New York. It has floor-to-ceiling windows with minimal furniture. Clean marble counters and high-end appliances. Though I barely used any of them, they are pretty to look at. New York is the city that never sleeps, so that means you can get anything. Unfortunately, with commercial-sized deals like this, it can take months to get clear. So, I’m stuck here.
I’ve worked my whole life to be the best in my field. I was top of my class in business, and I refuse to be distracted with whimsy social lives. Everyone has a purpose and a reason. Mine is to make my clients and firm money to afford an extraordinary life.
Relationships take attention away from the goals. Therefore, I never fancied having anything long-term. It will only end in disaster and will hinder forward progress. Case in point, my parents. They hate each other. They are still married but live completely separate lives, even to the point of living at different ends of the house. I don’t want that and I refuse to reduce my standards for anyone. At least, that’s what I told myself. However, I can’t help that women will flock to my side, but they are only for a short-term release. No one has caught my attention.
I was out with a couple of girls I met at a bar and they invited me to join them and other locals to go night surfing. The concept went right over my head. Who in the right mind would go surfing in the dark? Seems reckless. I was wildly wrong in that assumption. The only light cast in the area was from a few bonfires that burned along the shoreline. In the ocean’s distance, the black sky met the water, and it was lit up with different color glow sticks. There was laughter, witty banter, and music. It’s a lively scene that I am not used to.
Then, she drives up. In a beat-up truck. Bathing suit top and booty shorts. Her sandy blonde hair, tan skin, and bright blue eyes captivated me. I had to readjust my shorts. Walking in slow motion out of a fantasy, her barely there outfit left little to the eye. It was painfully beautiful.
I’ve witnessed many beautiful women on the island, but this girl was like a mystery. We made eye contact, yet she didn’t come over. Instead, she walked with Massey to the water and disappeared into the crowded surf. I followed her coral-colored bikini and turquoise bottoms everywhere. She cut through the waves with precision and power. Her tiny body just dominated the surf. Nothing compared to her. Not even the women from the bar who were very good looking.
“Yo, that’s Leland’s sister. Collins is a beast on the waves.” One girl dropped that bomb of information.
I couldn’t believe it. It makes her that much more off-limits and more desirable. Leland and Massey’s dad have had some encounters in the past. Leland helped Massey’s dad with property transactions on the other side of the island. Some farm owners were selling their land and trying to get back to the mainland.
What’s better than seeing Collins at the beach? Seeing her twice since then. Just her presence alone has me trying to prove in some way I am man enough to even talk to her, but what’s kicking my ass is that she’s not asking. She’s annoyed I’m even in her presence. A woman who fixes cars? A tiny tan woman taunts me. More fantasies to store away. She had me following her around the garage the last time I attempted to talk to Leland about selling the shop and land. I craved for her to talk to me. To even just look at me. Those bright turquoise eyes shine like I’ve never seen before. But, goddamn, she is a challenge. That spurs my interest even more. No harm in a little island fun, right?
I agreed to be here today and work in their shop. Just like I’m one of them. A local. I wanted to see what makes Leland tick. I might get leverage on what might motivate them to sell or why Leland is refusing to sell.
“You showed up.” Collin’s voice snaps me back to reality.
My lip tips up. She was irritated with me before I had a proper chance to say hello. “Yeah, I did.”
“What the hell are you wearing?” She looks me up and down with a mix of confusion and disgust.
I glance down at my pressed pants, crisp polo shirt, and my Allen Edmonds Randolph slip-on shoes. They were the most practical choice of my wardrobe. “You said nothing fancy. This is not fancy.”
“Do you know anything about cars?” Her hands rest on her tiny waist.
I shrug both shoulders, trying to decide how much bullshit she can read. “Enough, I guess.”
I know nothing about cars. I am from New York City. Taxi, bus, train, and anything but my car. I have a license, but I haven’t driven or needed to know anything about cars. Now, in a courtroom, I can tell you which judge will favor my case and which is a bust. Sometimes it’s like playing a game of poker, and you just need to read the player’s bluff. Their court clerks will also give me a little heads up if they had a good golf game or not. That small piece of information bodes well if you know how to work it into conversation.
“Hey, Collins. Randy is here for an oil change,” Leland yells from the front.
“Jackson is here for an inspection. I’ll call Harvey to swing by.” Lawson pulls his phone from his pocket.
“You call someone else to do an inspection?” I inquire.
“We aren’t licensed,” Collins calmly states. “I’ll check over the car to make sure it will pass. Come with me Ivy.”
“Ivy?”
“Ivy League—Right?” Collins points.
“Well, yeah. But —”
“God, you are useless. I knew you didn’t know anything about cars. Come on, you can shadow me and watch what I do. I’ll have you help when I know it’s a simple task or one that won’t cost us a dime.”
“How much does an inspection cost?” I ask.
