Ruby cackles with delight at the thought. “I once married a man because he said he had a yacht. Turned out, he had a kayak. We can’t always get what we want. But we might just get what we need.”
Lani slides a tray of what look like jelly donuts rolled in sugar into the oven like she’s making an offering. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”
“Those sweet treats are called malasadas,” Ruby says, following my gaze. “They’re originally Portuguese donuts. Baked or fried, they’re delicious. They’re the best thing that ever happened to these islands besides me.”
A chicken struts into the kitchen like she’s conducting an inspection. Two cats follow—one scraggly gray cutie that looks like he’s lost more arguments than he’s won and an orange marshmallow the size and shape of a basketball with glowing eyes, a half missing ear, and a swagger that says he ate the last leader and enjoyed it.
The fans thrum overhead. The oven hisses. My shoes stick slightly to the tile. Through the kitchen window, there’s a sliver of ocean so blue it looks photoshopped.
Something settles in my chest—quiet and certain.
I don’t know exactly what I’ve done, flying thousands of miles to make a cup of joe at a resort held together by hope and duct tape. But standing here with malasadas baking, a chicken underfoot, and an orange cat who clearly runs this place, I know I don’t regret it. Yet.
At 3:59, Melanie reappears with her phone and a manufactured smile pressed on her face. Up close, she’s still all edges—sharp earrings and sharper claws. Her blouse is starched within an inch of its life, and her eyes do that glittery thing people’s eyes do when they love rules more than people.
“It’s time for the staff phone call,” she chirps with her voice bright and brittle. “Everyone who counts, gather.”
“We count,” Ruby whispers. “We just don’t get counted.”
We cluster near the front desk, with me smelling like a latte, Lani perfumed with sugar and steel, and Ruby holds the scent of something floral and a few dark secrets. There are also two teenage lifeguards who look like they were born yesterday, and a bellman who has mastered invisibility. Melanie puts her cell on speaker.
The line rings once.
A voice fills the lobby. Smooth. Low. The kind of voice that convinces you to buy timeshares and salvation. It’s the voice from my Zoom call.
“Aloha, team,” he says. “Mahalo for your work this week.”
Ruby mouths the wordownerat me and fake swoons. And Lani wastes no time swatting her with a wooden spoon.
“As you know,” the voice continues, “Coconut Cove Paradise Resort has been operating at a loss. I don’t want to close. This place matters. But if we can’t bring the bottom line into the black, we’ll shut down at month’s end.”
A hush falls over the room. One of the lifeguards stops chewing gum.
A month? Paradise, lost in thirty days?
A part of me wonders if I’m the bad luck charm in this equation. I’ve torpedoed things before—case in point, my marriage—but that one was sort of justified. He cheated. I was efficient about the exit.
“I’ll be on the island soon,” he says. “Until then, Melanie has my full authority. Cut costs. Increase revenue. Don’t comp anything. And above all—this is important—work together. I trust you.”
The call clicks dead.
Melanie’s smile slides off like butter on hot toast. “Well,” she says brightly. “You heard the man. No freebies. Tight ship. Let’s not panic.”
Ruby clutches my arm. “We’re absolutely panicking.”
Lani doesn’t look panicked. She looks like someone dusted with enough flour to overthrow a government. “We’ll bake. We’ll serve. We’ll clean. We’ll charm. We’ll fix what’s broken.”
“But all I do is make coffee,” I say. “And offer suggestions no one asked for.”
“You’ll do both,” Lani says. “And we’ll put out a tip jar the size of a breadbox.”
Melanie has already retreated with her phone in hand. Through the slit in the office door, I catch a glimpse of her screen. An email subject line pops up:Severance Package—Confirmation.
And just like that, the curtain drops on this good time. My stomach does a slow roll like a wave deciding whether or not to break.
Ruby follows my gaze. “Well, that’s not ominous at all.”
Lani taps her spoon against her palm. “Listen up, you two. We’re not letting this place die.”
