Page 49 of Everything We Left Behind

“How was the last leg of the flight?”

“Quick. My seatmate left me alone this time.” On the flight to Mexico City, the woman sitting beside me could tell I was nervous. She was gorgeous if caked makeup and tamale-red nails was your thing. She kept offering me gin and tonics to calm those nerves.

Natalya laughed. “Good thing, else I’d have to come rescue you. So ... the plan is ...”

“The plan is: shower, eat, bed.”

“It’s only two in California.”

“Yeah, I know.” I scratched my stubbled cheek. I hadn’t slept at all on the plane or during the layovers. “I’m going to pick up the rental car and drive around for a bit. I’ll find Aimee once I get my bearings.”

My luggage flipped onto the carousel and I snagged the handle, releasing it and dropping the bag wheel-side down in one motion. “I’ll call you tonight,” I said, walking through the automatic sliding glass doors to the arrival pickup zone and straight into Thomas. I stopped dead in my tracks.

Dressed in a slate-gray suit, arms crossed, Thomas lounged against an obsidian-black metallic Tesla. He gave me a short wave and a tight-lipped grin.

“What time do you think you’ll call?” Natalya was asking. “I’ll make sure I’m back from the beach.”

Every nerve inside me hummed at full throttle. Blood roared in my ears. My heart slammed against my sternum.How the hell did he know I was here?

“Nat, I’ll call you back.”

“Wait. What?”

I disconnected the call.

Thomas uncrossed his ankles and pushed away from the car. His hands slid into his trouser pockets. “Hello, Carlos. Welcome to California.”

CHAPTER 15

JAMES

Present Day

June 27

Hanalei, Kauai, Hawaii

Julian and Marc climb into the rear seat of Natalya’s open-top Jeep Wrangler. It’s not lost on James she drives the same type of vehicle Carlos had owned. Claire grimaces when James orders Marc to scoot to the center. He insists Claire sit with the boys. “You wanted the chance to catch up with them.” He smirks.

Natalya glances at him when he settles in the passenger seat. He buckles up and smiles over at her. She blushes before her gaze slides away. She slaps on a sunscreen-stained, flat-billed cap with the Hayes Boards logo, which is a surfboard riding the company name where the lettersH-A-Y-E-Sare styled to look like a wave. She shifts the Jeep into gear, her movements rough, and the vehicle jerks forward.

Other than responding to his questions in clipped phrases, Natalya is quiet during the forty-minute drive to Princeville. Her reception as cool as her tone the other day on the phone. James reads her signals loud and clear. She isn’t in the mood to talk ... with him. He turns his interest to the passing scenery. From azure waters, airbrushed clouds, Jurassic Park–like mountains, and skyscraper palms, the Garden Isle is breathtaking. After six months in the dry Mexican heat, the last place he expected to find himself traveling to is another beachside community. But this island is different, almost effortlessly beautiful. He can feel themana. The spiritual vibe is almost tangible. The air is heavy with humidity and the scent of plumerias. He sees now why Natalya wanted Carlos to visit. Kauai is magical. A living painting.

Natalya keeps her gaze focused on the Kuhio Highway as they curve around the island. She doesn’t willingly talk to him so he steals glances at her profile. The freckled constellations across her cheekbones and nose intrigue him. The defined limbs that tell him she can probably keep up with him running trails as easily as she surfs the waves. And the hair that spins madly around her head like Indiana Jones’s whip. It all fascinates him. As does the woman. Would she be the same as the image Carlos painted in his journals?

Her row of sterling bracelets jangle as she downshifts, turning off the highway. They cruise through Princeville to the hotel, leaving the Jeep idling at the lobby doors. A valet assists Claire from the vehicle.

“Are you all staying with us?” the valet asks James when he unfolds from the car.

“No, just her.” He nods in his mother’s direction and slips the valet a bill after he points out her bag.

“Do you want me to pick you up later for dinner, Carla?” Natalya asks.

She hooks her purse strap on her bent elbow. “No, thank you. I’ll settle in here for the day. How about I join you in the morning for breakfast?” his mother asks Natalya, but her eyes are on James. He really doesn’t want her joining them for anything, but what can he say without raising questions he isn’t prepared to answer? Julian’s watching him closely, that inquisitive mind of his ticking.

James shrugs and walks to Natalya’s side. “What time should I pick her up?”

“Don’t worry about me,” his mother dismisses him. “I’ll take a cab.”

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