The waiter beamed. “Drinks?”
“Sangria?” Kelsey looked hopeful.
“Nice try,” Everett said without glancing at her, which meant he was a professional. “Shirley Temple.”
“Fine.” She sighed as if his answer was a grave injustice.
Rowan eyed the cocktail list. She could play it safe with a crisp white. Neutral. Or she could lean into the burn. “I’ll have a vermouth and tonic. With orange.”
“Another Negroni,” Everett said. The waiter puffed up, promised to return soon, and disappeared.
“This is the first time I’ve dined with a woman who hasn’t ordered a salad.” Rowan rolled her eyes but his tone was mild. “Does everyone on the island consume food as a sport?”
She usually avoided talking about her father, but something allowed her to share without the usual sting. “I was raised on the theory that food can be a bridge across differences. When everyone is seated at a table, it’s an opportunity to experience culture in its most specific ways. It’s honoring others.”
Surprise darted over his features. “You speak eloquently.”
A flash of temper hit. So arrogant. Assuming she was ignorant because she worked at a surf shop. “Yes. I notice sometimes you do, too.”
His jerk gave her satisfaction. The quick twitch of his lips soothed.
“We haven’t tried any Hawaiian food,” Kelsey said. “What are some of those dishes?”
“There’s several. Two basics are poi—it’s a taro root paste. And haupia, which is a delicious coconut pudding. Shaved ice is a staple. Lomi salmon is also a favorite. It’s raw and chopped with tomato, onion, and chilies.”
“Oh, I won’t like that. But haupia and ice sounds good.”
Everett chuckled. “You haven’t met a sugary dessert you disliked.”
“I don’t like pink cotton candy. Only the blue.”
Everett gave his daughter a look. “Kels, the color doesn’t affect the flavor of cotton candy. You know that.”
The girl shrugged. “It does for me.”
Rowan smiled. “I can tell you about some of my favorite restaurants, but a luau is the best way to experience everything at once.”
Kelsey’s eyes brightened. “Oh, I’d love to go to one! Dad’s been too busy. What’s the best one?”
“All the hotels have them, but I’d recommend the Toa Luau. Cousin Howie is the primary dancer and he’s amazing. I’m happy to send the link for tickets.”
“Can we go, Dad? It’s practically a requirement if we’re in Hawaii.”
“Yes. Let me get more on solid ground with this opening and I promise we’ll go.”
Rowan took in Kelsey’s dejected nod. The girl didn’t believe him. She watched him peek at his phone from underneath the table and type out a rapid stream of text. He might be sexy on the outside, but Everett was married to his job. No woman could compete—not even the one he loved the most.
A stab of regret pierced her. He wouldn’t know what he was missing until it was too late. She might not have had a mom, but her father had stepped in and never made her feel the lack. It was another reason his loss hurt so bad.
The drinks arrived. The vermouth and tonic was amber gold with tiny bubbles riding up the ice like climbers on a glacier. She took a sip and the bitterness bloomed, citrus bright, with herbal depth. It tasted like summer in a city, like something you drink on a balcony when you’re pretending to be fine. Everett’s Negroni glowed bloodred, a littlepoison square. His mouth on the glass was neat and efficient. He didn’t chase the ice cube; he let the drink come to him.
Kelsey’s teeth worried the end of her straw. “This is my thank-you dinner. For teaching me. For trying to make my dad step away from his stupid phone. Like he’s doing now.”
Everett laid his phone on the table. His face tightened but he spoke softly. “It’s not stupid. I can’t help my job, Kels. I thought you understood.”
“I do, but you’re worse than me. It’s not fair when you tell me to put mine down all the time when you’re doing the same thing! Sometimes, I just ... hate phones.”
Rowan winced. That was a missile shot that landed perfectly.
