“What am I supposed to do with this?” I asked, not understanding.
“When it rings, you answer it. If I text, you answer it. No matter what.”
Forget alarm bells. Tsunami sirens sounded between my ears. “So that’s how it’s going to be between us? I’m supposed to just stay at your beck and call like I don’t have my own life?”
He gave me a head nod that wasn’t nearly as deferential as the ones he’d received inside. “You catch on quickly.”
I mean, now I did. But I still had questions, so many more questions.
However, before I could ask him any of this, he turned and walked off, disappearing into the night and leaving me to wonder….
What comes next.
5
JAZZ
I didn't realize I was shaking until I got into my old Jeep Wrangler. I usually didn't mind that Bill had somehow lost the zipper windows for my Wrangler before selling it to me. I didn't feel like I needed them, even when it rained. But what happened inside Aloha Ballers made the tropical breeze feel like a freezing wind across my skin and made my teeth chatter.
What just happened? Who was that woman who had not only stripped down to her underwear but then came while gyrating all over a stranger she barely knew?
I stared at the phone he'd given me, gripping it tight in one hand to stop it from shaking.
Was he serious? Would he really call? What would he want? What would he feel entitled to after paying off my unexpectedly doubled debt?
None of the answers made the shivering lessen.
But eventually, I managed to calm down enough to start the car and drive to our ranch house in Pearl City.
However, the sight of the car parked in my usual space in the driveway erased any relief I might have felt about finally making it back home.
It was my sister, Mika's car—well, at least, it was the Mercedes G-Class SUV that she was permitted to use in exchange for taking care of her insanely difficult billionaire boss. And that meant she and my nephew Albie were probably inside.
Usually, I loved to see them. They lived in Connecticut, where Mika decided to move for grad school after her husband's death. I was super lucky that she landed a local job in Oahu this summer with the guy I'd dubbed the Broken Billionaire. And I'd spent most of my off-hours this summer hanging out with them every chance I could get.
But Mika was crazy empathetic—a former nurse who naturally wanted to help everyone she met heal. As I walked inside, I knew I'd have to school my face big time to keep her from suspecting anything was wrong.
I did my best, but it wasn't good enough.
"What's wrong?" Mika asked me as soon as I came through the door.
She must have been on her way out when I arrived. Albie was with her and came running up to me with his arms outstretched. "Aunt Jazz! Aunt Jazz!"
From what I'd seen in classes, nine-year-old boys weren't usually this enthusiastic about hugging, but Albie always had a big one ready for me. Maybe because he knew his time in Hawaii was short and years might go by before he had the chance to see me again.
"Are you alright?" Mika asked as Albie hugged me around the waist. The worry creasing her face made her less stunning than usual, but only a very tiny bit.
Mika favored our father, and I took after our mother, but if you asked me, she was the prettier of us two. She usually tried a lot harder than me anyway—which is not saying much since I'd never seen the point of trying at all. So tonight, she looked like a pin-up in comparison to me with a light dusting of makeup and her hair worn down in a gorgeous riot of curls. Plus, thanks to the pregnancy weight she never lost, she had way more curves. She looked the very picture of lush, Hawaiian femininity in her soft green dress and delicate sandals.
I rarely bothered with makeup since it was just going to get washed out in the ocean anyway. Jeans cut off just above the knees, a loose tee, and a pair of sturdy Tevas were the perfect everyday outfit for hauling surfboards around if you asked me. So even though we were sisters and best friends with the same source DNA, we were nothing alike.
For example, I was great with not talking about my feelings—like, ever. But Mika's number one goal in life seemed to be getting me to tell her how I really was—no, really, Jazzy, how are you, deep down inside?
"I had morning and early evening lessons today. It was a lot," I answered just to ease the worry off her face. Then I rushed in with a question of my own before she could ask me any follow-ups. "What are you doing here?"
