Page 46 of Just My Luck

Until a shark emerged from the water’s surface, its jaws wide enough to swallow him whole, and he was falling toward it, falling, falling, and he was aging backwards, a youth, then a boy, then a…

He woke up with a start, beads of sweat dotting his forehead. These damn dreams. That damn coma. Would he ever get back to normal again?

Outside his window, the rain had eased, but the skies were still gray and turbulent. Kona lows could linger for days, he’d heard.

And then, like a bolt of sunshine, he remembered. Zara was here. Warmth and excitement rushed through him. She was right next door with her wild hair and her bright smile. And her little sister.

He pulled on some sweats and hurried out of his room, feeling like a little kid at Christmas. Zara and Mia had pulled the couch over to the big plate-glass window that faced the ocean. Holding coffee cups, they both sat on the back of the couch for a better view. They were saying things like “right-facing” and “twenty-foot swells” and “it’s firing hard,” occasionally oohing over an especially spectacular wave.

He watched them for a moment, soaking in the feeling of company. So much better than isolation, which had been his natural habitat for so long. Zara’s hair tumbled down her back in kinky waves that she hadn’t tried to comb out yet. She was wearing the same clothes from yesterday—loose wide-legged pants and a V-necked tee with a stylized hibiscus flower—but they were dry now. He admired the shape of her back and the delicate flare of her hips as she perched on the back of the couch.

He cleared his throat, and she turned abruptly, nearly losing her balance. Mia grabbed her to keep her from tumbling off the couch.

“Hey,” she said cheerfully. “We helped ourselves to coffee pods, hope that’s okay.”

“Of course.” Her fresh face, her honey eyes, that sky’s-the-limit smile, it all hit him somewhere in the solar plexus.

“Thanks for letting us stay here,” said Mia. Without any of her black makeup, he saw now that she had a kitten-ish face with a dimple when she smiled. “This is the nicest place I’ve ever stayed, like, by far.”

“No problem.” Wanting coffee, he walked over to the kitchenette. He wasn’t in the habit of making his own, but he tried his best, and it turned out to be pretty simple.

When he joined Zara and Mia on the couch—the actual couch, not the back, so as not to tip it over—they all clicked their mugs together. “Here’s to the waves,” said Zara. “We’re happy one landed us here.”

“So am I. How’s Eddie doing?”

“Happy as a clam. He loves it at Marley’s. They eat a lot of macaroni salad, which is his favorite. Apparently I can never make it quite right.”

“That’s because you don’t use half a jar of mayo every time,” said Mia. “Because you care about ‘health’ and ‘nutrition.’” She used air quotes as emphasis.

“Not that much, apparently.” She swirled the coffee in her mug, and Lincoln saw it was nearly beige from all the cream she’d added. “So I was thinking, Lincoln,” she smiled at the way that sounded, “that Mia should be part of our upcoming adventure after all. It’s always helpful to have a moody teenager along.”

Mia made a face at her.

Lincoln thought about it. The more distraction from himself, the better. He didn’t want Tanaka to recognize him until he chose to confront him.

“We can do that. Everything is already in motion. I gave the orders last night—scheduled them,” he corrected. “I can amend them to include Mia.”

“Great. She might draw the line at a makeover, though.”

“No need. Moody teenager works just fine.”

“Is someone going to explain all this to me?” Mia complained. “Or am I just a prop?”

Zara and Lincoln exchanged a glance. “We’re just helping Lincoln out with some light espionage,” Zara said. “A business competitor of his is staying at the Kona Queen. All we have to do is stay at the second-best resort in Kona and act like the dysfunctional family we are. Except I’ll be the mother and Lincoln here will be the manny.”

“The manny?” Mia laughed so hard she actually fell off the back of the couch and onto the cushions, then from there onto the floor, where she hooted with uncontrollable howls of laughter. Lincoln reached down a hand to help her up, but Zara waved him off.

“Give her a second,” she murmured.

“Who…is ever…going to believe…that he’s our manny?” gasped Mia. “He always acts like he’s never even seen kids before.”

Lincoln sipped his coffee calmly. “Laugh all you want,” he told her, “but there’s a hundred-dollar bill in it for you if you get up off that floor in the next ten seconds.”

“Oh my God. Just for the record,” Zara said, shaking her head, once Mia was back on the couch and holding out her hand for the cash. “That is terrible mannying technique. Don’t ever ask me for a reference.”

His lips twitched in a smile, and so did hers. Boy, did he love it when her face lit up with amusement like that.

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