Heat Wave

“Though we both know he was spying on you,” Charlie adds. “Like he wants a reason to be mad.”


I sigh. “Story of my life. It’s too late now, I signed that damn contract. He’s stuck with me. Anyway, enough about that.” I clap my hands together, walking over to Johnny. “Get me up to speed. I need my first day to go well.”

And, with the help of Johnny, Charlie, and Jin, it somehow does go well. Obviously there’s a learning curve—the kitchen at Ohana Lounge is light years different from the one at Piccolo. Not saying one is better or worse, but the way I’m used to doing things doesn’t necessarily work here. Everything is a lot more relaxed and laid back, to the point where it grates on my nerves a bit, and despite Johnny having the title of head cook, all the roles in the kitchen are shared equally.

That’s probably my favorite thing about it all—the lack of ego. At Piccolo there was a hierarchy you could never stray from. Here, I really feel like we’re working together as a team, an “us versus them” mentality. We want the restaurant as a whole to succeed, we want the hotel to succeed, we want the customers happy, we want ourselves to be happy.

Of course that doesn’t mean I didn’t screw up a few times. Some of the fish I’d never cooked before, let alone seen, so I overdid it on the Opah and Wahoo more than once (yes, those are the actual names) and I was so flustered when I made the papaya dressing for the salad that I forgot to put the lid on the blender. Suffice to say, all of us were were covered in yellow goo by the time the shift was over.

But I survived. The customers seemed happy and the food tasted great. I just wish that Logan had come by at least once to see me in action, to realize that I pulled through after all. Beach bum or not, I’m a damn good cook and he should be happy he hired me.

Instead, while Jin finished up with the pots and pans, the rest of us moseyed on over to the bar to have a drink with Daniel and Nikki. It was my first time officially meeting them.

Verdict is: Daniel the bartender, with his curly hair pulled back into a ponytail, his Hawaiian shirt, cheesy grin and the way he hands out his realtor business card like he’s a quick draw in a Western, is the type to try and get in your pants. And Nikki, though frazzled from a busy night, is your quintessential waitress—sweet, talkative, and pretty, a combination that I’m sure leads to the perfect tips.

All in all, as the five of us sit at the bar and sip some beers, there’s an easy sense of camaraderie. There’s a bit of sexual tension between Nikki and Daniel…and Nikki and Charlie, for that matter, but that’s to be expected. From what I’ve seen, seems like everyone gets along here like a big happy family.

“So the boys tell me you’re Juliet’s sister,” Nikki says, her voice still bright, which I appreciate. Somehow it always makes things worse when people lower their voice, like they’re ashamed or afraid to mention her name.

I nod, slowly twirling the beer around in my hand, studying the Hawaiian-style art on the bottle. “Yup.”

“But this is your first time out here?” she asks.

I clear my throat. “I never really got around to visiting. You know how it is. Work kept me busy. And it seemed that Juliet and Logan were busy too running this place.”

A silence falls over us, punctuated by the roar of the ocean. Daniel clears his throat. “How about we all do a shot in honor of your lovely sister.” Before I can say anything, he’s turning around and pulling out a bottle of Koloa Rum and several shot glasses.

He pours us each one, sliding them toward us. He picks up his and says, “Here’s to Juliet. We miss her dearly.”

“Here, here,” we all say before shooting back the coconut rum. It burns pleasantly on the way down, immediately washing away the day’s stress. I have another drink after that as the group starts chatting about the surf report and future hiking endeavors, but I’m starting to tune them out. Despite my long beach nap that afternoon, I’m beyond exhausted.

As I leave the bar and walk through the parking lot to the hotel, the crickets chirping, the waves breaking on the shore, I take in a deep breath of the soft, warm air, exhaling slowly. I did it. My first day here and I did it. I’m almost giddy with relief that I survived and it was nowhere near as bad as my worrisome heart made it out to be.

Then I see Logan disappearing into the reception, shutting the door behind him. If he saw me at all, he didn’t show it.

Shit.

As well as the rest of my shift went, Logan missed all of it. He was only there to see me literally sleeping on the job.

What was one of the things Kate had told me that morning? Never give Logan the upper hand.

Moonwater Inn—Veronica 0, Logan 1.

I sigh and head up to the stairs to my unit. Better luck tomorrow.





CHAPTER SEVEN