“Wanna take this to the water? We won’t go far.”
“Yep, I’m ready!”
They carried the board to the shoreline. Rowan led her into the shallows, keeping them in the white water. “We’re not going to the lineup yet. These mushy waves are perfect for practice.” She steadied the board while Kelsey climbed on. “When I push you, paddle three times hard. When you feel the wave catch you, pop up like we practiced. Don’t think. Just do.”
Kelsey nodded, wide-eyed.
A gentle wave rolled in. Rowan shoved the tail of the board forward. “Paddle, paddle, paddle—now up!”
Kelsey wobbled, knees bent, arms flapping, but for three glorious seconds she stood before tumbling sideways with a splash. She emerged sputtering, hair plastered to her cheeks.
Rowan clapped. “Perfect fall. Welcome to the club.”
Kelsey’s laughter burst out, bright and unguarded. She pushed her wet hair from her face. “Can we do it again?”
Rowan’s chest tightened. God, she’d forgotten the way it felt—the sting of salt air, the rush of catching a wave, the wild joy. For a moment, she almost believed she was back out there herself, whole again.
“Yeah. We’ll do it again. We’ll do it as many times as it takes.”
They did.
And Rowan realized Kelsey not only had natural talent, but she embraced the water rather than fought it. She listened and knew how to tweak for form. Even worse? She wouldn’t stop smiling.
It was the same thing her dad had said when he first took her out on a board—like she’d finally found pure joy. It would’ve been so much easier if the girl had bitched or complained. If she’d giggled too much or feared the rough falls, Rowan would feel good about walking away. She’d thought one lesson would close not only the chapter between them, but the book. Because Kelsey wasn’t one of them. She didn’t truly belong.
But here?
She did. She’d claimed her spot. She was an equal.
The whole thing was a disaster—because now Rowan had to decide what to do.
No way could she continue this. It opened up too many raw parts of herself she didn’t want to face. She wanted to stay out of the water and out of any type of relationship complications. So there was only one thing to do. She made peace with her decision and began mentally rehearsing how she’d let Kelsey down.
Until Everett Hale came marching over the sand in his perfectly pressed suit, and Rowan found herself making a very different decision.
Chapter Seven
Everett liked starting big meetings on time, but today the clock on the conference room wall hit 9:09 and he was still standing.
His assistant, Jessica, sat in her usual spot with her tablet, already color-coding the agenda. Kai, the front desk manager, nursed a coffee that looked more milk than anything. Malia from housekeeping had a neat stack of notes and a pen lined up with military precision. Chef Lani sprawled in her chair at the far end like she owned the table, chef coat unbuttoned at the throat, dark hair twisted up in a messy knot. David, head of food and beverage, tapped a pen against a legal pad, eyes on the glass wall that looked out over the lobby.
The only empty chair was at Everett’s right.
“He getting used to island time already?” Chef commented.
Jessica spoke without looking up. “He texted at eight fifty-eight. ‘Be there shortly,Don’tstart without me.’” Her mouth tightened. “His capitalization, not mine.”
Everett kept quiet. Being late to the first meeting wasn’t a good look, but he knew shit happened. “We’ll give him a few more minutes, then we start.”
The door finally opened at ten past nine. Matthew Cole walked in like he wasn’t late at all. Like everyone else had simply been early as a favor to him.
He was older than Everett by at least fifteen years, maybe closer to twenty. Silver hair, cut sharp enough to match the ironed lines of hisnavy suit. His tie was a muted burgundy and probably cost more than the average airline ticket. The years hadn’t gone soft on him—he seemed fit. He gave a faint, polite smile, and Everett already knew it could cut as easily as it could charm.
“Apologies,” Matthew said, dropping his leather portfolio on the table and taking the empty chair without really looking at anyone. “Waikiki traffic.”
Malia gave the tiniest huff. Everett pretended not to hear it.
“No problem,” Everett said easily, taking his seat. “Everyone, this is Matthew Cole. He’ll be stepping into the GM role after opening. The plan is for him to shadow the next few weeks, get to know the property, the team, and the way we’re doing things here.”
