I'm half-pleased that he's called me by my nickname and half-ashamed that I sounded so snooty. I swallow hard. “I don't know what's important anymore,” I admit, my voice dropping a register. “I just know that whatever it is, it’s not back at home.”
He purses his lips, eyes studying me. “Hmmm. Honest. I like that. Well, maybe that's why you're here. To find out what's important. What makes your soul sing. I told you this place would shake you up, didn't I?”
“You did.”
He jerks his head into the room. “Anyway, you do have your own private bathroom, so if you must get busy, you can get busy in there. I can't tell you how many dates have ended up with a blow-job in the loo.”
“All right, Charlie, that's enough,” I tell him. “Or is it N' Sync?”
He scoffs. “I guess you heard Shephard dole out that one.”
“Is that one of your nicknames?”
“One of them,” he says. “Take care, I'll see you in a bit.”
And with that Charlie leaves, while I ponder if the N' Sync comment is over his spiky hair or something else. He looks more like a surfing god than a boy-band member but I guess the best nicknames are the ones we don't suit. Or want.
With Charlie gone, for the first time in twenty-four hours, I am well and truly alone.
I'm not even sure what to do. Logan had said he was coming to get me for a tour but I don't know if I have enough time to shower or not. So I stand here for a few moments, moments that stretch into minutes, while I try and absorb everything that's just happened.
Here I am in Kauai, in my new home, and not only do I have no idea what to expect, I have no idea if I'm ready to start working with Logan. I mean, he is, was, my brother-in-law, and even though Juliet died two years ago, he's somehow still family, whether I want him to be or not.
And I don’t.
I just wish I felt something toward him other than . . . well, everything I feel toward him. The biggest one of all is resentment. I can't help but feel a hot fist of anger in my chest every time I think about the way he wronged Juliet. Even though I'd never confronted him about it, we all knew the truth, and that horrible dilemma that Juliet was living with in the months leading up to her death.
Even though she was hit by a drunk driver and her car plunged over the side of the cliff and onto the rocks below, I can't help but feel it's Logan's fault. Maybe if Juliet hadn't been so distraught by everything that was happening in her life, she would have been more aware, more on the ball. Maybe she would have survived. Corrected the car before it went over. I mean, it was Juliet Locke for crying out loud, my sister, the girl that could never do wrong, the girl who never made mistakes, the girl I spent my entire life living in the shadow of, trying to become someone half as good as her.
And Logan was her husband, the bastard who cheated on her.
We all knew. We could sense things were off before, about a year or two into the marriage, when Juliet would give a forced smile every time Logan's name was mentioned. My mother pulled me aside once when they celebrated Christmas with us and asked me, “Do you think Juliet's happy with Logan?”
At the time I thought it was my mother being a snob, because she always insisted her daughters do the best, marry the best, and Logan, for all his entrepreneurial spirit, wasn't considered to be one of the best. My mother would rather have the politician’s sons for either of us, but especially for Juliet, her shining light, the daughter she was the proudest of.
But instead Juliet settled for a rugged Australian with little money, who had dreams of opening a hotel in Hawaii (a pipe dream, as my father had initially called it) and when Moonwater Inn finally did open six years ago, it was done with the backing of his friend, Warren Jones, and almost all of my parent’s money. In fact, they're still part owners of this place, yet another reason why I think I was shipped off here.
Looking back now, I'm sure that's not what my mother meant, though. She must have sensed Juliet's unhappiness. Knew that Logan was having an affair behind her back. She’s a politician and they’re the first to sniff out the shady shit. Takes one to know one and all that.
When Juliet came to visit alone that one year, staying at my place, that's when the truth came out. Logan was a cheater. Had numerous affairs. Was an asshole of the highest regard.
I was livid on her behalf, knowing that I should have never trusted him, and I hated myself for initially being so attracted to the man. All before Juliet swept him off his feet, of course—and vice versa. Especially since my family had helped to fund his dream. This was how he repaid them?
But I never got to talk to Juliet about it again. She became more and more distant as the months went on and wouldn't talk about it. My emails, my texts, my phone calls—it was like it had never happened, that she had never admitted anything. Which, when I think about it, is totally a Juliet maneuver. It hurt her to admit that anything wasn’t perfect.