Sierra accepted one of the waters that Mariana offered her, twisted off the top, and took a long drink. She had been talking nonstop for the past twenty minutes, ever since the stairs were bolstered back in place and she had left Jordan’s apartment with her luggage. She and Mariana had made it as far as their kitchen before Mariana insisted that Sierra tell her the whole story.
“If it were anyone other than you, Sierra, I would say this couldn’t happen. I mean, who meets a guy like that, swimming in the ocean, and then finds out he’s the wedding photographer?”
“I know.”
Mariana continued to list the coincidences. “And even though it makes sense that we ended up at the same beach house because of the connection with the airline his friend had, this is still so unusual.”
“I know.” Sierra headed for the wicker chair by the sliding glass door that led out to the front patio. She positioned the chair so that she could see Mariana, who planted herself on the sofa, but also so Sierra could easily gaze beyond the patio to the beach where Jordan had joined the other photographers.
Turning to Mariana, Sierra asked, “Do you think it’s creepy unusual or cool unusual?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. You’re the one who has to decide that. Didn’t you say a little while ago that this was one of those ‘God things’ you always talk about?”
“Yes, I did say that, didn’t I?” Sierra gazed at the rolling surf and the blue skies. “I think it is a God thing. A huge God thing.”
“And you really like him, don’t you?”
Sierra turned back to Mariana. She felt a smile warming her face. “Yes, I really like him.”
“Well.”
“Yes, well.”
“So what happens now?” Mariana asked.
“Dinner,” Sierra said. “Tonight. He invited both of us. Do you want to go?”
“No, of course not.” Mariana uncrossed her bare legs and tugged at the hem of her short denim skirt. “I’m not going to get in the way of your love life now that it’s finally starting. I’ll do something with Tianna. She and I need to find some guys to start our own island romances with. I can’t believe you’re the one who met a guy first. That was my goal for this trip, not yours. Tianna and I have some catching up to do.”
Through the open slatted windows on the side of the house, Sierra could hear someone walking up to the front door. A quick rap followed. She hopped up and opened the door to Jordan.
“I thought you would be out on the beach by now,” she greeted him.
“I did too. But I have a problem.”
“Come on in.” Sierra held open the door as Jordan said hi to Mariana and walked over to the sofa. The downstairs portion of the beach house had a sand-colored sectional that was in much better shape than the couch in Jordan’s apartment. Instead of a coffee table, they had a rectangular hassock.
Jordan had barely sat on the couch’s edge before he said, “I received a call from the property management company that rented the apartment to my friends. I had called them yesterday to report the broken stairway. They said I need to vacate the apartment until an inspector comes. Also, since they didn’t approve the repairs by Island Fix It Man, they won’t cover the charges.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Mariana said. “What did they expect you to do?”
“They expect me to move out and stay in one of their other units. The problem is that the only other place they have available is in Waikiki. That’s too far for me to go and still do what I came here to do.” Jordan rubbed the back of his neck. “I started looking for other places available here on the North Shore and haven’t had any success. I wondered if you might have any leads, Mariana. You said you have friends staying farther up the coast. Do you remember the name of the place they’re staying at?”
“Turtle Bay. But it doesn’t matter. You don’t have to find another place to rent. Just stay with us,” Mariana said.
Jordan looked at Sierra and back at Mariana. His expression made it clear that wasn’t the solution he had been looking for, but the possibility intrigued him.
“You’re not going to find anything else. We have two bedrooms. Stay here.” This time Mariana’s words carried an air of finality
Sierra wasn’t sure how she felt about this sudden decision that Mariana was making for all of them. But it made sense for Jordan to stay at this house on Sunset Beach to complete his photo assignment. She thought for a moment that she and Mariana could move to the place at Waikiki, but then she would be far away, and she didn’t want that.
“Are you sure?” Jordan asked. “I’ll move back upstairs once the inspector shows up and gives a clearance on the stairs.”
“I don’t think you should hold your breath until the inspector arrives,” Sierra said. “And once he does come, those stairs aren’t going to get a quick approval. The one right in the middle did a lot of groaning when I came down it a little while ago.”
“It cracked some more when I came down,” Jordan said. “It’s reinforced, but you’re right. I don’t think the stairs will pass inspection.”
“It’s decided,” Mariana said. “You’re staying here. And Sierra told me about your friend. If he shows up tomorrow, he can stay here too. We have two rooms and two beds in each room. It’s not a problem.”
Sierra noticed that the pinched lines in Jordan’s forehead eased. “If you’re both sure that’s okay with you, then that would be great. Thanks.”
“To pay us back for the kindness, we’ll let you cook for us.” Mariana grinned and turned to Sierra. “Is he a good cook?”
“I’d rather not say.” Sierra gave Jordan a teasing grin.
He folded his arms. “You haven’t given me a chance yet to prove my skills in the kitchen. How about if we have a friendly little competition this week and let Mariana decide who is best?”
“You have to buy all your own groceries,” Mariana said.
“Of course.”
“Then it’s agreed,” Mariana said. “This arrangement is turning out in my favor. I’ll have not one chef but two. Now, which of you is going to take out the trash and do the dishes?”
Both Jordan and Sierra looked at Mariana as if the answer to that should be obvious.
“Okay, fine, we’ll take turns,” Mariana said diplomatically. Quickly changing the subject she asked, “Jordan, do you need help to move your things down here?”
“Sure, thanks.”
The three of them took it one step at a time up and down the stairs as they transferred everything, including the food in his fridge. The move took twenty minutes, and as soon as they were done, Jordan grabbed his camera and equipment to head for the beach.
“There has to be something wrong with him,” Sierra confided in Mariana after he left. She was feeling even more enamored with Jordan and could hardly wait to change clothes so she could get down to the beach to join him.
Mariana laughed at Sierra’s comment as if it were blissfully naïve. Sierra knew she was inexperienced and far behind Mariana’s sophistication when it came to romances, but she still wanted what she felt for Jordan to be real and lasting. It still seemed too good to be true.
Mariana replied, “Plenty of things are wrong with him. Why go looking for all the flaws now? You can make a long list after he breaks your heart. For now, have fun. Enjoy the attention while it lasts.”
Mariana’s words echoed in Sierra’s thoughts half an hour later as she meshed her bare feet in the warm sand and headed for the gathering of photographers along the shore’s edge. She remembered how Mariana had been partially correct about Tawni wanting Sierra to come to the wedding to baby-sit Ben.
Could Mariana be right again? Would Sierra find herself back in Brazil a week from now making a long list of Jordan’s flaws after he broke her heart?
She hoped not. She really hated it when Mariana was right, but she especially didn’t want Mariana to be right this time.
Sierra convinced herself this was different. Mariana didn’t know how w
ell Sierra and Jordan had hit it off last night or how natural it had felt to be around each other. Sierra believed she had every reason to nurture this new relationship. The feelings were there on both sides. She was sure of it.
Approaching the photographers gathered on the beach, Sierra looked for Jordan. A couple of the guys glanced at her. One gave her a nod. They were more focused on the rising and falling waves and the two surfers who were paddling out to take their runs.
Continuing down the beach, Sierra enjoyed the warm breeze as it whipped her hair in every direction. Hundreds of spectators spread across the sand in front of the tall judges’ booth that had been constructed at the top of the beach where the sand met the walkway and parking area. Weaving through the crowd to the judges’ booth, she looked for Jordan but didn’t see him. She walked to the far end of the beach where only two photographers had their cameras propped up on tripods. Jordan wasn’t one of the two.
After almost an hour of hunting for Jordan, Sierra gave up and headed back to the beach house. That was odd. Very odd. He said he was going to the beach to take pictures; yet he was nowhere to be found.
When she entered the house, Sierra called out for Mariana. She wasn’t there. Going back outside and checking the driveway, Sierra noticed that Mariana’s car was still there, but Jordan’s car was gone.
Sierra felt as if her emotions were ascending a staircase as unreliable as the one along the side of the house. At any moment it could all give way.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The first thing Jordan did when he left the beach house was to make a call to Bill at the magazine and give him an update on how the storm had taken out his stairs and delayed his arrival on the beach.
“I’m on my way now. I should catch enough good shots for you before ten o’clock my time tonight.”
“That’s not what I was hoping to hear. We need to have at least a dozen edited shots from you uploaded by six o’clock our time.”
“That’s four o’clock here.” Jordan tried to calculate how much longer he would have on the beach to take shots before he had to start editing.
“Are you saying you don’t think you’ll have what we need by then?”
Jordan hated being caught in this position. He wanted to deliver, especially since this was his first day on assignment. What Bill was asking was way more ambitious than Jordan thought he could pull off. Nonetheless, he knew he needed to come through for the magazine.
“That’s a tight schedule, but let me give it all I’ve got.”
“You’re not convincing me, Jordan. Listen, I have some photos that came in already from an amateur who is on the beach there at Sunset. I can use those for this first round today. I would rather put up some subpar shots early than wait for yours. We can edit these shots here and upload them in the next half hour.”
Jordan stopped walking and tried to think how he could convince Bill not to give the opportunity to some rookie who showed up first with the goods.
“I can step it up,” Jordan said. “Give me an hour and—”
“No. I have another assignment for you. How about if for today only you cruise down to Waimea and take some shots for us of the winter swell? We’ve had unconfirmed reports of twenty-foot waves coming in later today. If that’s true, The Eddie could be on before the week is over. Can you do that?”
“Sure. Absolutely.” Jordan didn’t hesitate even though he wasn’t sure how far away Waimea was or how heavy the North Shore traffic would be. He also didn’t know what Bill meant by “The Eddie,” but he knew Derek would know.
“Have those shots of Waimea to us, edited, by six o’clock our time, and we’ll be squared for today.”
“Okay, I’m on it.” Jordan picked up his pace. Instead of returning to the beach house and getting in his car, he headed for the judges’ booth at the center of Sunset Beach. He went up to the first official he found and asked questions about entries in an attempt to find out if Derek could compete if he arrived tomorrow.
It took Jordan twenty minutes and the repetition of his question to four officials before he found someone who was familiar with Derek and his entry application.
“You know, it’s not the best for him because he’ll show up behind by one heat, but if he’s here by two o’clock tomorrow, I’d say sure. Why not? Give it a shot. He should be able to make the lineup. Tell him to call me directly and let me know if he’s coming.” The man pulled a flyer from the table and wrote his number on the back.
“Great. I’ll let him know. Thanks, man.”
“Sure.”
Jordan rushed back to the beach house, grabbed his car keys, and took off for Waimea. He had hoped Sierra would be at the house so he could see if she wanted to go with him. But when he arrived, neither Sierra nor Mariana were at the house, and Mariana’s rental car was gone.
Taking off on his own, Jordan pulled the map of the island of Oahu from his glove compartment and saw that Waimea was located only a few miles south of Sunset Beach. Turning onto the Kamehameha Highway, he slid into a backlog of slow-moving traffic on the two-lane road.
Jordan was wishing he had had the free car upgrade on this island instead of on Maui where he hadn’t done much driving. Today was the perfect day for a convertible. Taking advantage of the time in the car, Jordan called Derek to update him on the competition status for tomorrow.
“Thanks for checking into it, Jordo. I’m thinkin’ I’m going to try. I have a seat on the 6 a.m. flight out of LAX, and Mindy is insisting I go.”
“That’s great news. I take it she’s feeling better?”
“She says she is. I’m thinkin’ she’s being brave for me. We’ll see how she does tonight.”
“Here’s the number you need to call to let them know you’re coming.” Jordan gave Derek the phone number and then said, “One more question. What is ‘The Eddie’?”
“You honestly don’t know?”
“No.”
“You didn’t let Bill know that, did you?”
“No. What is it?”
“It’s an elite Quicksilver competition named for Eddie Aikau. He was the first lifeguard at Waimea and surfed thirty-foot waves back in the seventies. They have only held the competition like eight times in the last twenty-five years because the waves have to be over twenty feet with a thirty-foot face before they go out. Only twenty-eight surfers are allowed to compete, and they have to swim out. There are no jet ski tow-ins.”
“Bill said the reports were coming in that the waves might be big enough this week, and The Eddie would be on.”
“You’re kidding. I hadn’t heard. That’s even more reason for me to get over there.”
“I’m on my way to Waimea now to take some pictures for Bill.”
“And is Sierra with you?”
“No.”
“All right. So? Tell me what’s going on. How did you meet this girl?”
Jordan gave a shortened report to Derek of how he and Sierra had met and concluded with, “She’s not like other girls, you know? She’s her own woman.”
“How serious are you about her?”
“Serious? I’m not serious about her. She lives in Brazil. I’m just enjoying the chance to hang out with her.” Jordan knew that if he were honest with Derek he would admit he was infatuated with Sierra. Talking about her made him feel self-conscious. He didn’t want to build up anything that was only going to dissolve by the end of this trip. “The way we connected was unique, you know? And we had a good time last night. But the best part was keeping you guessing as to why I had a woman in my apartment.”
“Yeah, you had Mindy and me guessing, that’s for sure. You know, Jordo, they need photographers in Brazil too. Surf photographers, even.”
“Yeah, well, they need photographers in Santa Barbara. And at the moment Bill needs a photographer at Waimea Bay, and I just got here. It’s a zoo. I need to hang up and find a place to park.”
Jordan drove around for fifteen minutes before locating someone who was pulling out o
f a parking spot. He inched his way in and gathered his camera equipment. Trudging down toward the beach, he stopped at a lookout area to stare in awe at the huge wave that rose like a giant’s fist, curled its ominous blue knuckles, and smashed the water with a thunderous pounding. He thought the waves at Sunset were big. These waves were even bigger and carried an even louder crash and roar.
Jordan found a great spot to the side where he could shoot down on the bay and catch the rolling blue fists as they punched their way toward the shore. Within the first twenty minutes he knew he had captured some decent shots. Not to be overly confident, though, Jordan took the long walk down to the beach and set up his tripod and telescopic lens camera in the center of the beach. He wanted to catch the waves front-on in full force as they came bullying their way to the shore.
The white sandy beach was wide and curved in a large crescent. A huge, dark lava rock formation rose on the shore like a petrified pirate ship. What made the mass so unusual was that it wasn’t connected to the rest of the land. It sat by itself, marooned at the water’s edge.
About ten minutes into his shoot, a man came up to Jordan. “Sorry to bother you. May I ask a question?”
Jordan kept his camera steady and looked over at the man who was wearing a red shirt and wraparound sunglasses.
“I was wondering if you’re doing freelance or if you’re already with a sponsor for The Eddie.”
“Neither. I’m on assignment for Surf Days Magazine.”
The man looked impressed. He held out his hand. “Scott Wallford. I’m with Moana Alii.”
Jordan shook his hand, gave him his name, and repeated “Moana Alii” with what he was sure sounded like a question at the end.
“Moana Alii Surfboards,” Scott added.