Page 35 of Finding Elodie
Elodie and Manuel had been extremely busy with cleaning up the galley and the other rooms under their control, not to mention cooking meals for the crew and the extra men and women who were onboard.
After one very long day, when the company had told everyone they had twenty-four hours to decide what they wanted to do next—stay on the Asaka Express, move to a different ship, or quit with a healthy severance package—Elodie had seriously considered Scott’s offer to go to Hawaii.
She knew going back to the East Coast wasn’t an option. Paul Columbus had too much power there. He might be a New York mob boss, extremely ruthless and powerful, but he knew people. Lots of people. And they’d all do whatever he told them to do without hesitation—including killing a former employee who knew too much and refused to get onboard with his nefarious plans.
She’d left the United States because she hadn’t felt safe anywhere. But the more she thought about it, the more Hawaii appealed. Honolulu had millions of tourists. They constantly came and went, and it should be easy enough for her to blend in there. Since the tourist industry was so robust, she could work for a while, and no one would blink if she decided to up and move a few months down the line.
Elodie had hopes that one day she might be able to let down her guard a bit. Maybe even get married and start a family. But she wouldn’t risk doing that until she was sure Paul had given up on finding her. Maybe if he realized that she hadn’t snitched, hadn’t gone to the cops to turn him in, he’d decide she was going to keep her mouth shut and forget about her.
Sighing, Elodie stared at the popcorn ceiling of her studio apartment. It wasn’t really an apartment, merely a room off an elderly woman’s house that she’d rented. There were marks on the ceiling from water leaking in from somewhere and no air conditioning. Most of the time that didn’t bother her, as the ocean breeze blew through the room in the afternoons. But the humidity was harder to get used to. Everything felt damp. And when she licked her lips, she always tasted salt.
Closing her eyes, Elodie remembered the day on the Asaka Express when she realized she’d somehow lost the piece of paper with Scott’s number. She’d needed to do laundry, and could’ve sworn the slip of paper was in another pair of jeans. She’d loaded up her duffle bag to drag down to the laundry facilities, where she normally double-checked her pockets before tossing stuff in the machine, but she’d been in a hurry. While in the laundry room, she’d run into Valentino, who’d tried to hit on her…again.
It wasn’t until a short while later, when she couldn’t find the paper with Scott’s number, that Elodie realized she must’ve washed it. By that time, it would’ve been mush inside the washer. And of course, she hadn’t memorized the number either. She knew the area code for Honolulu was 808, and that there was a zero, a few threes, and a one in his number, but that was it.
Despite knowing it was stupid, she’d still decided to come to Hawaii, even without a way to contact Scott. She’d hoped that she’d be able to find him somehow. Maybe even just run into him randomly. But that was a joke. There were too many people on the island, and way more service men and women than she’d thought. And it wasn’t as if she could just saunter onto the Naval base and start asking questions.
So, she’d taken the severance and hush money she’d received and found the cheapest place to rent that she could. But even that had been more expensive than she’d expected. She’d had to find work, otherwise she’d have ended up homeless on the streets with the countless other men and women she saw on a daily basis.
Despite knowing she could probably find a job in a restaurant somewhere, Elodie had resisted. For one, she was scared that it would give Paul a way to find her. If he did somehow find out she’d been working as a chef onboard the Asaka Express, it would be natural to assume she’d found another job as a chef elsewhere. And she was afraid he had the resources to somehow find her if she continued working in her field.
But second…Elodie was tired of the kitchen.
Once, she’d loved it. Loved coming up with new and exciting dishes. But being on the run and always looking behind her had dimmed her joy of cooking.
It had taken two weeks, but eventually she’d found a job working for a charter fishing business. The work wasn’t hard or very cerebral, which was actually nice. The two men who owned the boat were married and in their early forties. Both were friendly, but not overly so. After fending off Valentino’s advances and doing everything in her power to not get into a situation where she was alone with him, it was a refreshing change.
On days when tourists chartered the boat, they left early in the morning, around six. Her job was to be friendly with the guests, help entertain any children that accompanied their parents, keep the boat clean, make sure everyone signed the appropriate paperwork, serve a light lunch and snacks, and to take pictures. She was paid just enough to buy groceries and cover rent.
The boat usually came back to the dock in the early afternoon, and after she cleaned up, putting everything back in its place for the next day, she had the rest of each day to herself. Since Elodie didn’t have a car, she couldn’t exactly explore the island, but she’d quickly learned how the public transportation system worked and did her best to get out and about.
She wasn’t going to accidentally run into Scott if she spent all her time in her room, though she’d quickly realized that despite visiting all the touristy places associated with the Naval base, like Pearl Harbor and the Battleship Missouri Memorial, Scott wasn’t going to appear out of nowhere, take her in his arms, and be overjoyed to see her.
Elodie wasn’t sure what her long-term plans were. She liked her job well enough, but she couldn’t work on a charter fishing boat forever. She was thirty-five years old, a renowned chef, a half-decent person, and unfortunately, on the run from a crazy mob boss she’d had the misfortune to accept a job from.
When the alarm on the bedside table went off again, Elodie reluctantly clicked it off and headed for the bathroom. Today, she didn’t have to make any decisions about the rest of her life. All she had to do was smile, be friendly to whatever tourists had decided to charter the boat, and make it through another day. Maybe when she got off work she’d go down to Ewa Beach. She’d heard good things about it, and it definitely wouldn’t be as crowded as Waikiki. She’d gone there just once, and that had been enough. Too many people, too many stores, and not enough space.
She knew she shouldn’t complain. After cheating death not once, but twice—first when she’d managed to escape New York and the Columbus family’s reach, and second when the Asaka Express had been hijacked—Elodie was trying to learn to be all right with her boring life. Boring was better than dead.
But she couldn’t help but wonder frequently what Scott was doing. If he thought about her at all.
She’d thought about him almost every day since he’d walked off that cargo ship. He’d sounded so sincere when he’d offered his help. She didn’t know how he’d realized Rachel wasn’t her real name, and she’d been so tempted to confide in him. But they hadn’t had time.
She hadn’t wanted to put him in danger by coming to Hawaii, but she was. She knew that. But she was scared. She had no idea what to do next. So she’d come, despite the fact that she might be putting Scott at risk.
Elodie felt weak for being afraid of Paul, for being so lonely. Scott made her feel safe. She just hoped, if she ever found him, that he was still willing to help, and that he’d forgive her for dragging him into her shit.
Late at night, when she was in bed with the ocean breeze drifting over her, Elodie fantasized about what might have been. If she wasn’t on the run. If she could be with him. Would they click in the normal world like they had on the ship? Or was the danger the only thing that made it seem as if they’d had a connection?
Elodie had dated in the past. Nice, safe men. Businessmen who’d thought since she was a chef, she’d like nothing more than to spend her days and nights off cooking for them. Instead, Elodie had always wanted adventure—and she’d gotten way more than she’d bargained for, that was for sure.
Sighing, she pulled on her bathing suit and forced herself to get a move on. Things with Scott probably never would’ve worked out anyway. He was…larger than life. A hero. She was a stupid chick on the run. She wished she was brave enough to fight back against Paul. Go to the cops, something. But she hadn’t and she wasn’t.
She also wasn’t an idiot. He’d win. He didn’t fight fair, as evidenced by the many people who’d ended up dead before they could testify against the family. She’d been ordered to participate in the killing of a man, and her refusal to put poison in his meal had led to her life on the run.
And now she was in paradise, where she was surrounded by people every day. She smiled and laughed, but still felt so very alone.
Doing her best to shrug off her melancholy, Elodie tried to look on the bright side of things. She was alive. Living in Hawaii. Had a roof over her head and food to eat. So what if she didn’t have friends? If she didn’t have a boyfriend? She was fine…just fine.
