Which One?

Abby’s [POV]

I giggled, biting into my croissant. The filling was warm and the pastry was flaky; little crumbs showered over my thighs. Joseph was our manager. He was a little frantic, but nice if you stayed on his good side.

"Everything blows up when the tourists come. The island's fast asleep whenever it isn't peak season. Think about it, Makani; the people who come here are relying on us to make their trip unforgettable. People don't forget things like that. You don't forget experiences. That young couple from Arkansas, is here for their island wedding. They'll remember you organized their first horseback ride as a married couple on the beach."

"Uh-huh. They'll also remember their awesome island wedding when they're getting a divorce five years down the line because the guy hasn't been able to forget the pretty blonde who lei-ed him," she joked. I narrowed my eyes as she laughed.

"You're too young to be this jaded," I said shaking my head.

"I'm just being realistic. They're here on vacation. It isn't real life for them. Once they leave, they leave all this behind. They take their memories, but memories fade."

"You don't want to be responsible for making one person's day better? Be the one behind that one memory that makes them smile when they’re feeling down?" I urged.

"I just want to make it through another season in one piece."

"I can't wait," I said smiling, having a sip of my coffee.

"I want whatever you're smoking," she said shaking her head.

She was like a forty-year-old woman in the body of a hot twenty-two-year-old. She had been born in Lanai and had lived on the islands all her life. She had started working right after high school and had been supporting herself for just as long. She could be a little serious, but was a great time when she let her hair down.

We watched the tourists on the beach silently for a little while. Usually, the only people on the beach this early were people who wanted early morning runs or swims or elderly couples who wanted to walk the beaches while they were still quiet and fairly empty. It was nice. The wind blowing over the ocean towards us was fresh and salty.

I knew the perfect song for this moment.

"Mind if I play something?" I asked Makani. She said she didn't. I stole back into the house and came back out with my phone looking for the song. Remus had a song for every occasion.

The sound came through the speaker. An acoustic demo – just clean vocals, piano, and percussion. I had chosen my favorite song from them. It was a slightly slower song, “Nikki Out of Sight,” which they had released before they were signed.

One of the members, the pianist, Nate, had written it about his mother who had died when he was a kid. Not a lot of their newer fans seemed to like it very much since they had done it in their older style. I liked the way they played now, but there was definitely a difference between their earlier and newer stuff.

"This that band you like?" Makani asked.

"There you go, I didn't even have to tell you who it was this time," I said smiling. I played Remus’s music often when we were together. Makani was steadfastly lukewarm about them, not from a lack of effort on my part. She didn't know any of the band members and didn’t listen unless we were together and I put it on, but she could probably name like, one album title if she tried.

"I don't get it," she said, shaking her head.

"Nate, one of the members, wrote the song for his mom."

"Nikki is his mother?" she asked, pulling a face.

"She died when he was young. The song's about how hard he would try not to forget her because the older he got, the longer she'd been gone." Makani nodded.

"Is that why you like it? Because it’s miserable?” she asked.

“It’s not miserable. It’s cathartic,” I insisted. She humored me by agreeing.

She was one of the few people I’d met who didn’t love the band. I’d been listening to them since they had released their independent LP. They never had any Hawai’ian tour dates, so I’d never seen them live, but I imagined I’d probably combust if I was in the same room as they

played their stuff.

There was something really raw about their lyrics that I felt I could relate to. It was beautiful music, but their themes sometimes skewed a little dark. Loss, death, things that were scary to think about, but made me feel better about where I’d come from.

I related, to this song at least, because my mother was dead, too. She hadn't been gone long enough for me to start forgetting her, but I had been fifteen when it had happened. That wasn't better or worse than losing her at an older or younger age – it always sucked to lose a parent.

The song ended, and we quickly finished our breakfast. Makani waited as I got ready, and we left for work together, taking a short walk. The trail brought us up to the main building between the pool and the golf course.

The resort was gorgeous. I had so much respect for the staff who cleaned and decorated, making sure it always looked amazing. There were always fresh flowers at our front desk every day. That was where we worked most of the time, checking people in and out and taking inquiries, but sometimes we’d coordinate luaus, events, parties, wedding receptions, things like that.

The work was fun. It didn’t really feel like working, not to me anyway. I liked talking to people. Makani was professional and warm with all the information, and I liked to engage guests, ask them where they were from, whether they’d been to Lanai before, and just make them feel comfortable. All I wanted was a smile back when I gave one.

A few hours in, the phone rang. I picked it up, giving my usual introduction and greeting.

"Abby?" Joseph barked. I jumped. I had never been in trouble at work before, but he always talked to us like we were. He was Samoan. Big and tall, and the sort of guy you didn't really want to know how mean and scary he could be, so you were always on your best behavior around him.

"Yes, sir?" I squeaked, clearing my throat.

"My office," he said shortly and hung up. I looked at the phone briefly before putting it down. Why did he want to see me? I knew I wasn't in trouble, but he tended to spend a lot of his time outside his office, chatting with guests and overseeing the staff.

"What's up?" Makani asked.

"Joseph wants to see me," I said.

"Right now? Why?" I shrugged. I told her I'd be right back before leaving to go to his office. It was behind the reception area, through a door that was for staff only. I knocked before I went in. He was sitting at his desk. I smiled at him coming in. I saw his stone face mask drop for just a second, about to smile back before he stopped himself.

"Abby, I need you to check the presidential suite," he said, getting straight to the point.

"Which one?"

"The Hulopoe suite; he wants the ocean views."

"I'll get right on it," I said. I didn't want to ask why, but I was curious. He had said “he” wanted ocean views. Who was he talking about? I thought up a way to make the question less obvious. "Uh, any special instructions for housekeeping?" I asked.

"If anything's wrong, have them fix it. We have a guest who wants the suite for the entire season. It needs to be perfect. Oh, and he requested a piano in his room and these drinks in his refreshment center," he said, handing me a list.

I raised my eyebrows. The Four Seasons was already a swanky place, but if someone was taking a Presidential Suite for the whole summer, they had to be some sort of celebrity or billionaire – especially if he’d sent a wish list ahead of him. I bit my lip wondering who it was.

"Can I ask who it is?" I asked carefully.

"He's a musician. Nick Stone," he said.

"Nate?" I asked quickly, correcting him. I cleared my throat and reeled it in. "Nate Stone?" I asked again, hoping he wasn't onto me.

"Yeah, that must be him. Plays in a band. Rich father. He wants the suite for three months. He is an extremely important guest, and checks in today. I know I can trust you to make his stay unforgettable," he said, giving me one of his rare smiles. He had them all the time for the guests, but not for us. I think he did it to scare us – keep us in line.

I nodded because if I opened my mouth, I'd probably scream. Nate Stone. Nate Stone was coming here. I was about to meet Nate Stone. I would be able to see Nate Stone every day for the next three months. Joseph dismissed me and I left the room, feeling like my skin was on fire.

Oh my God, Nate Stone. I wanted to scream. I had just been talking about him with Makani that morning.

Whew. Down girl. I had to get a grip. I had work to do. I hurried back to the desk.

In a few hours, I’d be meeting Nate Stone. I couldn’t wait.