Page 84 of Hula Girl

“Yes, you are certainly Maui’s biggest advocate.”

I squint at her, trying to understand whether she’s teasing me or rebuking me. In the end, our waitress returns before I can decide how to respond.

She tells us about the seafood eggs Benedict special, suggests a mimosa, then slips away after we order.

“So,” Ava says, “it seems all went well last night.”

I give her ayou can’t be seriouslook, and she laughs.

“I meant as far as the whole fiancée thing goes,” she continues. “If your father is offering up his girlfriend to help with wedding planning, then he’s convinced it’s all real, right?”

“Oh. Yeah, that part was … good.”

“And I assume you were able to smooth things over with him after I left?”

“Yeah, it’s all good now.” What I don’t tell her is that my main concern in staying behind to talk to him wasn’t so that I could assure my own petty retribution, but so that I might deny him his. He was peppering me with far too many questions about her saying she and I would be partnering up and potentially taking his clients. I had to make sure he knew she was just joking. That it was just her sense of humor to throw him off balance since she was nervous in his esteemed presence. Yeah, I played to his ego and it worked. Thankfully, he finally let it go.

“When do you go home?” she asks.

“The board meets tomorrow. I’m resigning on Tuesday. I have a flight booked for eleven that morning.”

“And you’ve sorted out the issue with your shares?”

She’s all business now, her walls back up. It’s a shame to see her revert to those instincts. As if she needs to protect herself from me. I sigh, suddenly weary. There’s only so many times I can convince her she doesn’t need to pull away from me.

Left with no other choice, I snap into the same impersonal mode she’s put on. “I have. I’ll submit the paperwork along with my resignation. I found a creative solution. You pointed me in a very helpful direction, so thank you for that.”

“Great.”

Her short reply and unfocused eyes tell me she’s not listening.

It feels like our time is slipping by. I can see it draining away along with the easy intimacy we once shared. I have to do something to make her understand that this—us—is worth fighting for.

Leaning across the small table, I tell her, “Let’s cut the bullshit and really talk. We need to figure out how to make us work.”

She looks wary. “What do you suggest? I mean, honestly, we both know it would be me moving to Maui just like you said at my mom’s, wouldn’t it?”

“It’s an option.” When I see her exasperation, I continue, “At least say it’s an option. I’m not saying it’s theonlyway, but it has to be an option.”

“Ford, you’re asking me to compromise. You’re saying you want me, but only ifIchange my life and give up on my career.”

“No. I’m asking you to take a chance on us,” I counter.

She lets out a pitiful laugh. “How do I get to have youandmy career?”

I’m silent because I haven’t figured that out. I don’t have all the answers. But at least I can admit that. And I can admit how much I want her.

But my silence only intensifies her frustration. So much so that tears form in her eyes. And then, to my surprise, she slams her fist against the table.

“Damn it,” she says weakly. “Youare my fairy-tale romance.”

“Then—”

“And you’re also proof that Ican’thave it all.”

“You can. We both can. We can figure it out,” I say but she just shakes her head.

I’m hyper aware of the other diners sitting too closely. I don’t want to be here in this restaurant where we have to force ourselves to have a meal together. I don’t want the fire we had together to burn out in this way. I want to stoke it, to bring it back to life and feel the heat ofusonce more.

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