“This isn’t a holiday, it’s a very personal trip.”
“Iknowthat,” she said, softer now. “And I’ll keep to myself. You won’t even know I’m there.”
I gave her a long suspicious look. “You once got arrested in Central Park for being drunk and disorderly… and playing the bagpipes.”
“What? When? I don’t even know how to play the bagpipes.”
“Exactly! I’m begging you to think this through.”
“I have. And I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.” She reached for her phone. “Now—what’s your flight number and which side of the plane has the best view of the ocean?”
I gave a defeated sigh. “We haven’t booked any tickets. We’re taking Cal’s private jet.”
Her eyes lit up. “This just gets better and better. Tell him I want a window seat.”
“It’s a private jet. Every seat is a window seat.”
Her eyes gleamed. “Grand. Then I’ll take whichever seat has the best view of the drinks cart.”
CHAPTER 12
The suitcase situation had escalated.
Cal had three open on the bed. Three. All lined up with terrifying symmetry, organized by category—eveningwear, daywear, and “resort neutrals.” I stood on the other side of the room holding a single backpack stuffed mostly with underwear in case I ate something that didn’t agree with me… a lot.
“What do you mean you’re bringing three?” I asked, watching him fold his shirts with the solemn precision of a man trying to impress both God and the TSA.
“You heard Tessa,” he said, smoothing the lapel of a pale blue linen blazer that cost more than my laptop. “Leilani’s family is big. There’s a welcome dinner, a beach day, a luau. Not to mention I have meetings with Hal. We have investors lined up as well as a ton of red tape to get through. There are stakeholders, cultural protocols, environmental regulations, land use approvals… this isn’t a handshake deal. But I’m sure Hal will charm everyone into doing what we need to get this proposal across the line.”
Ah yes. Hal.
I tried to stay cool. Unbothered. Like an evolved adult.
I made a noise instead.
Cal glanced over. “I know you’re not happy about Hal being there.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to. You made that noise.”
“What noise?”
“That noise you make when you disapprove of something I do. The same noise you make when I put raisins in the couscous.”
I shuddered. “That’s not a noise. That’s a cry for help.”
“He’s just coming to finalize the Hawaii venture. One dinner, maybe two. He’s taking his own jet. You won’t even have to see him.”
I hesitated. “Well. Funny you should say that.”
Cal straightened, a perfectly folded shirt still in his hand. “Why?”
I scratched the back of my neck. “Because I may have… also invited someone.”
His brow furrowed. “Who?”
“Mrs. Mulroney.”
