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She couldn’t be more than five feet tall and probably didn’t weigh a hundred pounds dripping wet. Her naturally dark skin, high cheekbones and sultry eyes spoke of her Pacific Islander heritage versus the effects of continued exposure to the sun.
Another employee, a tall, willowy woman with light brown, wavy hair and startlingly blue eyes Angel recognized as the resort manager, Kiana Williams, stepped out behind her. Trailing the two women was a man dressed in a business suit.
“Mr. Brentwood.” The resort manager stopped and placed a hand on the man’s chest. “She’s not interested in selling.”
“Leilani,” Brentwood brushed the woman’s hand aside and stepped around her to the shorter woman, “they’re offering a lot of money. If you accept the offer, you won’t have to go through the hassle of cleanup and rebuilding. You can buy a boat, travel the world, move to the mainland or retire and not work another day in your life. At least think about it.”
The petite, dark-haired woman turned to face the man, a frown pulling her brows low on her forehead. “I have thought about it every time you bring it up. My decision stands.” She lifted her chin. “No. I won’t sell. That land has been in my family for as long as I can remember. Maui is my home, the home of my people, not some faceless corporation that will build high-rises and golf courses, changing everything about this island. It would break my heart if Lahaina became another Honolulu. Now, leave me alone. I have work to do.” She laughed. “Me, retired? I’d go out of my mind.”
“It will take years to rebuild what was lost,” the man named Brentwood said.
The Kiana stepped between Brentwood and Leilani. “You heard her. She’s not interested, and you’re wasting her time.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Now, leave before I have you escorted off the property.”
Brentwood frowned heavily. “You can’t stop progress.”
“Maybe not,” Leilani said, “but it won’t be at the expense of my heritage.”
Brentwood’s lips pressed together. “This isn’t over,” he said. “My clients don’t give up easily.”
“And I don’t like to repeat myself,” the resort manager said.
Angel stepped forward, ready to offer to escort Brentwood off the premises. Before he could say anything, the resort manager pulled the radio off her belt and raised it to her lips. “Security, I need two men out front, now.”
“I’m going,” Brentwood muttered. “But I’m not done.”
“Yes. You. Are,” Leilani said with a tight smile and turned her attention to Angel, his team and the people milling around the bus. She counted all of them, her full, lush lips moving silently as she tallied the numbers.
While Leilani made a big show of checking her clipboard, Brentwood climbed into a shiny black BMW sports car and spun out of the parking lot, fishtailing like a teenager.
As soon as he was out of sight, the tension seemed to leave Leilani.
“Are you all here for the Waterfall Tour?” Leilani finally asked, projecting her voice to include the elderly tourists near the bus.
Everyone either acknowledged with a nod or an affirmingyes.
She smiled, the gesture brightening her face, the sunshine glinting off her dark pupils. “I’m your tour guide, Leilani Kealoha. After I check you off my list, you’re welcome to climb aboard the bus. We’ll get rolling as soon as we’re all loaded.”
Devlin’s lips twisted in a smile. “I believe the tour just got more interesting.” He stepped forward. “Devlin Mulhaney,” he announced.
Leilani placed a check beside his name. “Aloha, Mr. Mulhaney.”
“Call me Dev,” he said.
She nodded with a smile. “Dev.” Her gaze went past him to Angel.
“Angelo Cortez,” Angel said.
Her lips twitched. “Do I call you Angelo or Angel to go with your friend Dev?”
“As a matter of fact, he goes by Angel.” Reid abandoned the side of the building and joined the rest of the team.
“Thanks.” Angel glared at Reid. “She was talking to me.”
Leilani cocked a dark brow. “So, what’s it to be?”
Angel’s lips twisted. “Angel.”
“Angel, it is,” Leilani said with a grin.
