Cerella Sechrist - Gentle Persuasion

Leilani cocked her head, studying. “Then you’re one of those recruiters.”

Ophelia dipped her head in acknowledgment. “How many have there been? Before me?”

Leilani shrugged carelessly before turning toward the microwave. “Enough to become an annoyance.” She turned back and studied Ophelia. “None as pretty as you, though.”

Ophelia blushed, but Leilani turned back toward the microwave without commenting further. Removing her own warmed plate, she joined Ophelia at the table, settling comfortably across from her. Ophelia toyed awkwardly with her silverware, not wanting to appear rude by diving straight into the food. Her mother had instilled that habit in her long ago.

Leilani noted her fidgeting and grinned, putting her at ease once more. “Go ahead. Tutu’s a much better cook than conversationalist—I promise.”

Offering a small smile in return, Ophelia took up her fork and speared a chunk of roasted sweet potato. The starchy morsel melted on her tongue, a tangy ginger glaze causing her taste buds to tingle happily. She quickly forked another bite and then a third into her mouth before moving on to the crisp, smoky, soy skin of the huli huli chicken. After a long stretch of minutes and more bites that included the doughy, honeyed mango bread and fragrantly steamed rice with pineapple, Ophelia paused to take a breath. At some point while she ate, Leilani had filled her glass with lime-spiked water. She took a long sip before shrugging apologetically.

“I must have been hungrier than I realized.”

Leilani beamed at her. “It’s good to see a city girl eat like that. Most of the other recruiters who came turned up their noses at our food. It offended Tutu immensely.”

“It’s their loss,” Ophelia assured as she peeled another savory section of chicken from the bone and popped it into her mouth.

“Tutu’s going to end up loving you.”

Ophelia wrinkled her nose with skepticism. “I somewhat doubt that, but...” She paused. “Thank you. For not getting upset about why I’m here.”

Leilani licked her fingers and leaned back in her chair. “You’re just doing your job.”

“That’s a very positive outlook. I hardly imagine other recruiters were welcomed so generously.”

“Dane’s a grown man. He knew what he was doing when he left the mainland, and he knows what he’s doing here. No one can change that, except him. Tutu doesn’t give others enough credit to make their own decisions.”

Ophelia reached for a napkin from the stack in the middle of the table. She wiped her fingers with it before placing it next to her plate. “Is that why you were sneaking in tonight? She doesn’t trust you?”

“It’s more complicated than that. Tutu has been responsible for me for years. And she had good reason to worry for a long time. But things are different now. I’m different. And she hasn’t been able to see that.”

“She seems like a woman who could be pretty stubborn....” Ophelia thought about her own mother’s rigid standards and dropped her eyes to toy with the remains of her rice, pushing the grains into a tidy pile in the corner of her plate. “But I’m sure she loves you. She seems like someone who would love fiercely.”

When she looked back up, Leilani nodded. “She is! She’s been there for me through a lot. I just wish she’d give me some credit for how much I’ve changed.”

Ophelia tried redirecting the subject. “Who was it that brought you home tonight, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Leilani’s eyes sparkled at this question. “My boyfriend, Sam. We’ve been seeing each other for three months now. Dane’s even been giving him odd jobs around the plantation. I think it kinda drives Tutu crazy, having him around so much.” Leilani giggled at this.

“So do you have a boyfriend?” she asked.

Ophelia started at this unexpected question.

“Um...”

“You’re not wearing a wedding ring.” Leilani pointed out the obvious.

“No. I, er, recently got out of a long-term relationship.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

But even as she said the words, Ophelia noticed the younger girl smiling.

She raised her glass of water. “Then here’s to your week of island adventures.”

Ophelia thought it a strange toast, but she clinked her glass next to Leilani’s and then took a sip.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Leilani said. “It will be good for Dane.”

Ophelia couldn’t be sure what Leilani meant by that and decided perhaps it was safer not to ask.

* * *

DANE WAITED RATHER anxiously for Ophelia Reid to appear in the inn’s dining room the following morning. Keahi filled a large plate with stacks of golden macadamia nut waffles slathered in coconut syrup while Pele listened to Leilani chattering about her time kayaking at Kealakekua Bay the day before. Dane sipped from his coffee and made occasional attempts to read the newspaper, but with each slight noise, he would glance up, expecting to see Ophelia enter the room.

He attributed this edginess to Ms. Reid’s agenda—the last thing he wished to deal with was a pushy recruiter making the same offers he’d heard dozens of times in the past three years. But deep down, he had the uneasy feeling that Ophelia’s proposal wasn’t the only reason his gaze kept wandering to the dining room doorway.

He was sending just such a glance toward the entry when she finally appeared. The sight of her caused a tingling of interest along his nerves, but he forced himself to greet her casually with an offhand, “Good morning.”

He noted with a frown that she was not much more suitably dressed than the day before. Her pale green button-down shirt and knee-length black skirt flattered her figure immensely but reinforced the impression of her professional image. Dane didn’t much like the reminder, even if he did admire the long length of her calves as she crossed the room.

He forced himself to look away, returning to his papers, though he couldn’t find where he’d left off in the article he’d been reading. He finally placed the page aside and looked up, catching Ophelia’s eye. She offered a friendly smile, which ignited a warmth in his stomach. He found it a difficult endeavor to tear his gaze away from her.

“Are those waffles?” she questioned as she pulled out a chair.

“Macadamia nut,” Keahi offered around a mouthful of food. He shoved the platter her way before introducing himself. “I’m Keahi, the boss’s right-hand man.” He stood and reached across the table to offer the hand he had just mentioned.

She took it before seating herself across from Leilani and to Dane’s right. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Ophelia.”

“Keahi is my plantation manager,” Dane felt the need to elaborate.

“Would you like some sausage?” Leilani extended the plate.

Ophelia nodded and took a link. “Everything looks delicious, Pele.”

Pele didn’t utter a sound of acknowledgment but moved around the table to begin mounding several spoonfuls of fresh fruit onto Ophelia’s plate.

“Tutu loves to cook. It’s part of her nurturing spirit,” Leilani informed.

Dane cocked his head in curiosity. “Ophelia, you haven’t met Leilani yet, have you?”

Both girls flushed with what looked like guilt to him. He studied them more closely.

“Have you?” he pressed.

“Of course not,” Ophelia spoke up and then reached across the table to extend her hand. “Leilani, you must be in charge of reception and bookings. You probably spoke to my assistant, Holly, on the phone on Friday.”

“Miss Reid, of course.”

“Please, call me Ophelia.”

They looked way too conspiratorial for two people who had just met. He glanced at Pele, but she was busy pouring Ophelia a glass of juice and didn’t notice the exchange. And then, as one, the two younger women turned to look at him. He had the strangest feeling of being left out of something, and he didn’t much like it. When he gave no reaction, they turned back to each other.