Heat Wave

“Ron!” she warns. “Don't even. And don't tell anyone what I've told you.”


I laugh. “Oh my god. First of all, I wouldn't. The only people I talk to are you and Johnny and Charlie. And second of all, I'm pretty sure everyone knows. You can't keep shit like that a secret. You might try but it's always obvious when two co-workers are banging each other.”

She just grumbles something and puts her window down lower. The breeze coming off from the cattle fields to our left is sweet and tinged with the smell of sun-baked dirt and grass. “And Logan,” she adds.

“Logan what?”

“You talk to me, Charlie, Johnny . . . and Logan.”

I snort in disbelief. “I do not talk to Logan. You know this better than anyone.”

“Mmmm,” she says. “I don't know. You were just fucking stranded with him overnight. I'm sure you guys talked about something.”

She's right. We did talk about a lot. But I'm not about to get into that with her. It's way too complicated.

“You know Logan and I are like oil and water,” I remind her.

“Right. But you're the water who decided to go hiking with said oil on your day off.”

“Because I wanted to annoy him,” I explain. I know my tone is starting to sound a bit defensive.

“I know. You're always wanting to piss him off and get under his skin and he does the exact same with you.”

“Yeah but you're describing everyone's relationship with Logan. He's the habut. The grump. Mr. Surly. Team Gruff.”

“Team Gruff?”

“Whatever. You know what I mean. I'm no different.”

“Uh huh.” She puts her hand out the window and starts waving it up and down over the passing air. “You say you know people when you've been working in this business, and I can say the same. Me, the rest of us, we like to bug Logan. But we don't go out of our way. We don't think about it. He's just our boss and he honestly occupies a really tiny space of my brain. I'm sure it's no different for anyone else. Anyone except you.”

“Oh, well,” I trail off. “I mean, he was married to my sister. He's family. So of course I might think of him more.”

“And vice versa. Because that man thinks a hell of a lot about you.”

Something flutters in my stomach. I swallow. “What can I say, I'm like his annoying kid sister.”

“Oh no,” she says. “There's nothing sisterly about the way he looks at you.”

More fluttering. A whole nest of birds is taking flight inside me.

“How does he look at me?”

She glances at me over her glasses. “And suddenly you want to know?” She lets out a dry laugh. “Next time, open your eyes a bit bigger and see the whole picture.”

“I don't know what you mean.”

“You will.”

It has to be said. “Whatever it is that you’re trying to get at, don’t forget who he is. Juliet’s husband. My brother-in-law. Death be damned. And that would be—”

“Completely and morally wrong,” she finishes. “I know. And I know you both know it too. Which is why I’m not going to say anything else. No matter what happens, you’re both well aware of the consequences.”

The birds in my stomach have changed course, taking a nose dive. It feels like my heart is dropping with them.

Mercifully, Kate changes subjects, talking about our first luau of the year on Wednesday. It’s last minute and just for the guests, but in time it will get more and more popular. I know Johnny and I will have to hunker down with Charlie, maybe even Dan, and start planning the menu. There’s a lot to think about and when it comes to this traditional Hawaiian feast, I’m a noob.

Even so, the whole ride back to Moonwater I can’t help think about what Kate was getting at. As much as I like to pretend that my feelings for Logan are mild and easily squashed, a crush more than anything, the fact that she’s picking up on something says a lot. And it says even more that it’s coming from his side. If he were anyone else to me, I would be grilling her on everything about him, wanting every last detail: how does he look at me? What do you think it means? Has he said anything?

But he’s Logan. And that’s that. Anything else would be morally wrong.

Anything else would have consequences.

So I bury it.

Forget it.

And try to move on.





The days leading up to the luau crawled by. I didn’t see Logan much, which is both a good and a bad thing, other than him checking up on me as soon as I got back from the hospital. But even though he kept to himself, he passed down orders to Johnny and Charlie to not let me work. I protested, of course, and kept showing up at the start of my shift anyway. And they kept pushing me out of the kitchen—gently, I might add—telling me I needed to heal.