Page 25 of Hula Girl

I’d gone back to the office late one night, intent on researching a case I couldn’t stop thinking about when I heard my father’s voice. The door to his office at the far end of the floor, one of the only offices not exposed by glass walls, was mostly closed, but I caught glimpses of him as he paced while speaking on the phone.

Normally, I’d ignore him and go about my business. But something about the opportunity to hear what he was so focused on at this late hour made me stay put.

“That’s all part of it,” he said soothingly. I had no idea who was on the other line. But his argument soon became clear. “I’m telling you, I’ve got Junior on my side. With his shares combined with mine, the old man’s position here will be completely debilitated. No more kowtowing to his every little whim.”

It was so callous, so cold. And so like my father. I shouldn’t have been surprised that he would be conspiring to push his own father out of the firm. But I was. I stood there gobsmacked and torn. I didn’t want to be a pawn in this family drama. And yet, I had no loyalty to the grandfather who only ever saw fit to use me for his own gains. If my father wanted me to join forces with him to take over the firm, that would just give me more power.

Wouldn’t it?

“In due time,” my father had continued on the phone. “Once things have settled here after we take over, I’ll find a way to get Junior lost in the stacks. He won’t have arealcontrolling interest, after all. We’ll just stroke that ever-expanding ego of his, and he’ll go along with it, I’m sure.” Senior laughed then with a kind of pleasure I’d never been privy to.

If it wasn’t so personal, it would have seemed cartoonishly evil.

But it wasn’t just a moment of feeling hurt by the attempted manipulation, it was much bigger than that. It triggered a long-overdue reckoning. It was the realization that I had spent years abandoning my better instincts, years casting aside what I really valued in life, all in a vain effort to win my father’s approval. To win his respect. To gain his love. None of which ever happened.

I actually laughed when I understood this.

And then, I quietly retraced my steps out of the office, went back to my overpriced Brentwood townhouse to pack a few things, and headed straight for the airport. I flew to Maui on the first available flight and spent the next several weeks ignoring all emails and calls while I tried to figure out a plan. I finally reached out to the firm’s Human Resources department and informed them that I was taking a leave of absence. I left no forwarding contact information.

Instead, I settled in at my mom’s place before her boyfriend suggested I take over his old surf shack. Staying there with no television, no computer, no internet, has been a dream. It’s brought me back to a true sense of self.

This life has been all about surfing, the music school, time with my mom, and a kind of serenity I hadn’t realized I’d been aching for.

That didn’t stop my father from trying to get an answer from me about returning, though. He guessed that I was back in Maui and hounded my mom, sending her bullshit registered letters to try to scare her into admitting I was here. He forgot that she’d seen that side of him before and therefore couldn’t be intimidated.

I’d been banking on my memory of a loophole in the contract I’d signed with the firm to guarantee me up to a full year of leave due to being a shareholder. But that time has just about run out. I now either have to return to work or formally resign.

The thing is, my quick disappearing act might have postponed my father’s plan to force my grandfather out, but I’d bet he’s only been biding his time. Giving him the chance to do that to his own father is my only hesitation in formally resigning. So, I still have to figure out how to manage this situation.

I let out a breath and drag my hand through my hair. After a moment’s hesitation, I pull my cell phone from my pocket and step outside. Punching in the number I’ve already memorized, I wait for three and a half rings before it’s answered.

“Is that you, Surfer Boy?”

Ava’s voice makes me smile. And I realize I did the right thing after all, by asking for her number.

10

Ava

Amusical experience. That’s what Ford said in his invitation over the phone. He said, “Would you be up for joining me tonight for a musical experience?”

I didn’t think twice before saying yes. I didn’t even think about the odd wording. Not until now when I’ve arrived at the address he’s given me and realize my assumption that I’d be up for another sexy night with Surfer Boy is completely wrong.

I’m standing on the outskirts of a parking lot that’s been made into a makeshift area for a children’s musical performance. I’ve overdressed in a little red dress suitable for a nightclub, which makes me want to turn around and leave, but Ford catches my arm before I can make a move. Wearing navy blue shorts and an Aloha shirt with faded blue floral patterns, he’s dressed up by island standards. Still, there’s no hiding the strength in his tan arms or the way he radiates sex.

“I’m so glad you made it,” he says. “My kids will love having a stranger here to watch them.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Yourkids?”

“My students,” he replies with a laugh. “My music students. My mom owns the music school, and I help her where I can. Tonight is a performance of a piece the kids have been working hard on.”

“Oh,” I say, trying to come to grips with my expectations coming nowhere close to reality.But it settles on me that reality is actually quite attractive. The reality is that Ford isn’t just some surfer dude who randomly beds tourists. He’s someone who works with kids to get the best out of them. That isn’t just admirable—it’s sexy as hell.

“Is this your girlfriend?”

We both turn to see a boy about eight years old standing with us, his wide eyes ping-ponging between us. He holds a clarinet at his side.

“No,” we both answer.

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