Between Hello and Goodbye(18)

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was sort of last minute. My boss wasn’t happy about my being late to the Nestle meeting—”

“So he punished you by sending you to Hawaii? Where do I apply?”

I eased a breath to hear Viv laughing. “It’s a leave of absence. Two weeks, and I just thought Hawaii might be a good place to…I don’t know.” I plucked the bed sheet. “Get my head on straight.”

“That’s cute, Faith.”

“I’m serious. I closed the deal and they want to make me partner, but I need to get my shit together before—”

“Right, right, right,” Viv said teasingly. “Who is he?”

“Who is who?”

“Whichever guy swept you off to his villa on…wait, which island are you on?”

“There’s no guy,” I said, and immediately Asher’s impressive, manly bulk shouldered its way into my thoughts. “I mean, not really…”

I could hear her knowing smile. “Yeah, not really.”

I gritted my teeth. My ankle was starting to ache and the bottle of Advil that a man had to go and fetch for me was out in the living room. “I gotta go, Viv.”

“You know what… I’m looking at my calendar, and if I shuffle a few things, I’m free for the next week.”

Of course, she was. Vivienne Simon was an heiress to the fortune of a French-Canadian oil magnate. Shuffling a few things for her meant postponing lunch dates and spa appointments. A week ago, she’d been my hero, and now I was hiding from her across the Pacific.

How’s that for personal growth?

“Wouldn’t it be perfect?” she was saying. “You and me in paradise? Looking hot A-F on Waikiki beach, shopping in Honolulu… You’re on Oahu, right?”

“Um…”

Outside my window, a rooster crowed.

“Or a farm?” Now Viv’s laugh was short and tight. “Seriously, where are you?”

I nearly told her. She was my friend, after all. But if I gave away my secret location, she would storm over with a martini in her hand and a truckload of Louis Vuitton luggage, and we’d never get off the beach. Thanks to Asher getting me through the next few days, I had a chance to salvage this trip.

While I hesitated, Viv huffed. “Are you really not going to tell me where you are? Seriously?”

“Well…it’s just that—”

“Wow, Faith. Just…wow.”

“Viv, it’s not like that. I need some time alone. And oh my God, I already have stories for days,” I added brightly. “Stories involving helicopters and—”

“Yeah, whatever, Faith, I have to go.”

I sagged. “Don’t be mad. It’s not about you, I promise. It’s just something I need to do for myself.”

“Who’s mad?” she asked coldly, her voice clipped. “Enjoy your alone time, wherever you are.”

The phone went aggressively silent. I tossed it aside and rubbed my eyes.

“Crap.”

It wasn’t even seven a.m.; close to ten, Seattle time. About the hour I’d start thinking about rolling out of bed on a Monday morning—workday or not—if I weren’t anchored down by a hangover. But after making Viv feel like shit, my guilt wasn’t going to let me go back to sleep and neither would my ankle.

Asher had left my crutches propped against the wall next to my bed. I reached for them and noticed the beautiful man had also left a glass of water and two Advil on my bedside table.

I smiled to myself, a warm feeling in my chest. Asher Mackey was a mystery. A grouchy teddy bear who was giving up his time off to help me, even if he wasn’t going to get a thing out of it. Not even sex.

“A crying shame,” I muttered, thinking of his numerous impressive physical attributes. But I must’ve been on the path to enlightenment, since talking to him last night had been satisfying in an entirely different way from orgasms. Intimate in a way I wasn’t accustomed to.

“Oh my God, one decent convo doesn’t make you the Dalai Lama.”

I tore aside the bedcovers to examine my injury. My ankle was still puffy and decorated with bruises in various shades of purple but not as swollen as it had been yesterday. Still, four days didn’t seem like enough time to get back on my feet, so to speak. But four days was all I had. After, Asher would go back to work saving lives, and I’d be on my own.

I puffed out a breath and gingerly swung my legs over the side. I made my way to the bathroom to pee, both crutches nearly clattering to the floor when I washed my hands. Then I trekked to my open luggage on the floor and put on white shorts and a yellow tank top. What should’ve taken me five minutes took me twenty.

I debated crawling back into bed, but Asher said he’d drop by sometime this morning to check on me. I had to make an effort. I brushed my hair and contemplated makeup, but why bother? We were just friends.

“That less-fun F word,” I muttered.

But as I crutched over to unlock the front door, I found that I was looking forward to Asher’s visit. To just being with him. His rugged magnificence aside, my firefighter was a tough nut to crack. Like a stubborn client I had to wear down, and I knew there was more to his Coming to Hawaii story than he’d let on.