Page 42 of Claimed By My Ex's Brother

“That’s not gonna be a problem,” I said, taking out my wallet. I produced a pair of hundred-dollar bills and offered them to her.

The woman looked at the money, then looked at me. “Sure,” she said, laughing, and I put the money into her hand.

“Is there anywhere we can get something to eat?” said Lena.

“Well, not until morning,” said the lady. “But I got some food in my house. I can give you a few things to tie you over. Ain’t nobody staying up here much. It’s kind of out of the way, you know. You folks from Kauai?”

“That’s right,” I said. “I’m the owner of the Continental Hotel.

The woman looked at me.

“You’re Alex Alson?” she said. “The entrepreneur?”

“That’s right,” I said, smiling.

The woman chuckled.

“Well, you wouldn’t believe this, but I’m Mary Kahale. My son is Jason? He’s a bellhop.”

“No kidding,” said Lena, and I looked at her, smiling.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Mrs Kahale.”

“Here,” she said, giving me back one of the hundred-dollar bills. “Let me just get you folks some groceries.”

“Oh, no, I want to pay full price,” I said, not wanting to take advantage of the woman’s generosity.

“You just did. This is your change,” she said.

Anhourlater,wewere settling into the prettiest little cabin I’d ever seen. It was an old-fashioned place. Built of three rooms on a raised structure, the cabin had an ensuite bedroom (which Lena quickly occupied, shutting the door). At the front was a kitchen and living room, decorated in a homely style, with a woven rug on the floor and some simple furniture. It was basic but clean, and bright.

“Can I take a shower?” I said. “I stink.”

“Sure,” said Lena from inside the room. “After you make something for dinner with them groceries.”

I growled and looked into the bag the old woman who ran the guest cabins had pressed into my hands.

There were some eggs, a tomato, a celery stick, two onions, and a slab of cured pork. It was basic stuff.

I never cooked. Even in the Navy, my camping skills were limited to a single vegetable stew I knew how to make. I looked through the cabin and found some oil and a pan. One of the best things—one of the only good things—about being as busy as I’d been the last few months was I had an excuse not to cook. At home, in my mansion in Honolulu, I had a permanent live-in housekeeper, who prepared my meals. Not that I really ate there often. I was more likely to be eating in one of my hotels than I was at home. And for breakfast each day I normally had just a protein shake and a piece of fruit. Not exactly cooking.

Still, I found an old knife in one of the kitchen drawers. I chopped the vegetables up and cut the pork in half, saving one half for in the morning for breakfast, diced the other half into small cubes. I slowly fried the pork, before adding the vegetables. Luckily, I discovered a cube of chicken bouillon in the cupboard and added that too, along with some of the clean, fresh water.

In no time at all I had a little stew simmering on the stove, and eventually, Lena emerged.

“That actually smells … nice,” she said.

“Thanks,” I replied. “There isn’t much in the way of seasoning, just salt and pepper.”

“That’s okay,” she said. “My stomach’s been messed up for the past couple of days. I could use something simple.”

When the vegetables were soft and I was sure the meat was cooked, I divided it up into two bowls and sprinkled it with a bit of salt. It was almost appetizing. I just needed something else.

“Say,” I called from the kitchen to Lena, who was now reading one of the books that had been left in the cabin by guests from who-knows-how-many years ago. “Can you go into the garden? I think I saw some sage growing there?”

“Well look at you, Jacques Pepin,” laughed Lena. “All right. I’ll go check.”

Lena went out, and round to the side of the cabin. I watched her peering around in the garden. It was almost dark, and as she gracefully felt her way through the plants and tropical scenery in the setting sun, I felt a tinge of my hunger for her body return. It was like I always wanted Lena: when I wasn’t at peace from having her, desire ran through me quickly and strongly, and I felt the urge to step out into the garden.

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