It is shameful. I’ve seen the crash site where Juliet’s car went off the side of the road, I’ve felt the choking rage and regret every time the shuttle bus or Charlie’s Tacoma takes us to Hanalei. I’ve had to stop looking at it, but even when I close my eyes, I can tell we’re passing by it. It’s on a sharp curve around the bay, just east of the resort. There’s no shoulder, just a steep drop-off to the rocks and crashing waves. A cross and flowers marks the spot, and the few times I kept my eyes open to take it in, I’ve noticed the bouquets were fresh. Someone keeps putting them there and I’m too afraid to ask who. The idea of Logan being a still grieving husband doesn’t jive with the idea I have of him in my head. It just complicates things and that’s the last thing I want.
I should probably pull up my big girl panties and visit the site in person. Go by myself and let the scene sink in. It could remind me that I’m betraying my sister by even thinking about Logan in that way. It’s just a case of wanting what was hers, some form of self-validation, of feeling that I finally measure up to her. That’s all it is.
That’s all it has to be.
“Ron?”
I hear the front door close and Kate appears standing by the sliding door, her long hair spilling over her tanned shoulders, a white plumeria tucked in her hair. She looks like a Hawaiian princess. “We’ve already started.”
I frown, shaking my head slightly and trying to snap out of it. “Started what?”
“The staff meeting,” she says slowly. “Let me guess, you forgot?”
It’s Saturday morning, which is supposed to be a day off for most people here, including me, and though I know there’s a monthly staff meeting for everyone, this is the first that I heard of it happening today.
Kate sighs, rolling her eyes. “Come on, it won’t take long. It’s in the restaurant.”
I follow her out of the unit and over to the restaurant. It’s another gorgeous day, even though the mountains are shrouded in cloud and mist. No matter the weather, it’s always gorgeous and despite the looming clouds, it’s actually been blissfully dry the last couple of days.
We enter the restaurant and see everyone sitting at a few tables in the middle. I’m immediately embarrassed. Everyone is here, even Shannon the rough and tumble night shift receptionist, and they’re all looking at me expectantly.
“Sorry,” I say quickly, taking a seat with Kate beside Johnny and Charlie. “This must have slipped my mind. Who is watching reception?”
“No one,” Logan says quickly, looking at the sheet of paper in his hand. “Which is why this meeting needed to start five minutes ago.”
His tone is cutting even though he doesn’t look at me. Sheesh, talk about mood swings.
He clears his throat and starts reading from the paper. “Okay, we’re one week into November now, which means things are going to start getting more chaotic, especially after Thanksgiving. You all know the drill. You also know that if any of you were planning on flying home for Thanksgiving, you should have made those plans with me a long time ago. As it stands, Charlie you’re off for a week and so is Nikki. That means the kitchen is going to be understaffed. Veronica, Big John, I trust you’ll prepare for this.”
I meet Johnny’s eyes and he gives me an easy smile. We’ve already discussed what to do when Charlie is gone and all it means is a bit of extra prep. Thanksgiving happens to be one of the slowest times of the year here.
Logan goes on talking about the upcoming season and how things are going to get a bit more competitive because other hotels on the island are slashing their prices.
“I was thinking about bringing back Mai Tai hour on Fridays, and starting up the Wednesday night Luas, just like we did a few years ago. There are only three official luaus on the island and we know that when guests come to the island they’re looking for the total Hawaiian experience. It’ll take some extra work but we need to capitalize on that.”
“Um, what’s Mai Tai hour?” I ask.
Logan finally looks at me. “Every Friday from four to six, we serve free Mai Tais by the pool.”
“Everyone loves free booze,” Charlie adds.
“Then why did you stop doing it?” I ask. I look to Daniel, our resident booze expert. “Too expensive?”
Daniel shakes his head. “Mai Tais are some of the cheapest drinks you can make. It’s mainly fruit juice and a splash of a few cheap rums.”
“We stopped,” Logan says, eyeing me sternly, as if I’m stepping on his toes. Which I probably am. “Because there was no way to directly measure if it had any influence on whether guests stayed here or not. And if you can’t measure it, then it’s not worth the money.”