Элин Хильдебранд - What Happens in Paradise

Now, apparently, he’s venting his anger at the restaurant during service; he’s been acting erratically with the customers.

And sure enough, after Ayers and Mick claim two seats at the bar and order Ayers’s favorite sipping tequila, Ayers overhears Skip describing a bottle of Malbec for the couple sitting a few stools away like this: “This wine is a personal favorite of mine,” Skip says. “It has hints of hashish, old piñata candy, and the tears of cloistered nuns.”

“What?” the woman says. “No, thank you!”

Ayers waves Skip over. “You okay?”

“Great, Ayers, yeah,” Skip says, scowling. “Seriously, never better.” He looks over Ayers’s shoulder and his expression changes. “Hey, man, how’re you doing? Good to see you! It’s…it’s…I’m sorry, bud, I’ve forgotten your name.”

“Cash,” a voice says.

Ayers whips around. “Cash!” she says. She hops off her stool. It’s Cash Steele, here at La Tapa! Ayers remembers too late that she’s angry with him. She finds that she’s happy, really happy, to see him. She inadvertently checks behind him to see if maybe Baker followed him in.

No. But Ayers finds her heart bouncing around at the prospect of his being here.

“Hey, Ayers,” Cash says. He offers Skip a hand across the bar. “Good to see you, man. Just got in on the ferry. I’m starving. Can I get an order of mussels and the bread with three sauces?”

“You got it, Cash,” Skip says.

Cash eyes the stool next to Ayers. “This taken?”

Mick clears his throat. Ayers says, “No, no, sit, please. Cash, this is…Mick. And Mick, this is Cash Steele.”

Mick raises his tequila and slams back the whole thing. Cash nods in response.

“So what are you doing here?” Ayers asks. “I thought you guys went back to your lives in America.” Which is how it always happens, she thinks. Which is why she doesn’t date tourists.

“My life in America kind of fell apart,” Cash says. “So that text you sent me was pure serendipity.”

On the other side of Ayers, Mick sounds like he’s choking. Ayers watches Skip set a glass of water in front of him.

“Text?” Ayers says, though she knows exactly what Cash is talking about.

“About the job on Treasure Island, ” Cash says. “Have you filled it?”

“Uh…no,” Ayers says. “We haven’t. We’re pretty desperate, actually. Wade leaves in another week.”

Cash slaps some paperwork down on the bar. “I can fast-track my lifesaving certification,” he says. “I should be good to go in another week.”

“Seriously?” Ayers says. “You want the job on Treasure Island ?”

“I’d love it,” Cash says.

Ayers hears Mick muttering on the other side of her. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t taking some satisfaction in his discomfort. She must be angrier at him than she realized.

“Cash!”

Tilda swoops in and throws her arms around Cash’s neck, then gives him a juicy kiss on the cheek.

“Hey, Tilda,” Cash says.

Across the bar, Skip holds Cash’s order of bread with three sauces. He glares at Tilda and Cash, then comes just short of slamming the plate down.

“I thought you were in Colorado!” Tilda says. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell my parents that I’m taking a trip to Breckenridge to ski with you.”

“No Breck for the foreseeable future,” Cash says. “I’m moving down here. And hopefully working on Treasure Island with Ayers.”

“‘Working on Treasure Island with Ayers,’” Mick mimics under his breath.

“Moving down here?” Tilda says. “That’s hot.”

Skip huffs. “Hot?” he says. “Get back to work, Tilda.”

Tilda appears unfazed. “Call me later,” she says to Cash. She sashays off to give table eight dessert menus.

Ayers says, “I didn’t realize you knew Tilda.”

“You sound jealous,” Mick murmurs. “How about you let lover boy eat his bread and we get out of here?”

“She gave me a ride home when I was here the last time,” Cash says. “She’s cool.”

“She’s taken, ” Skip says. He’s holding Cash’s mussels and looks like he might dump them over Cash’s head.

“She’s not taken,” Ayers says. She waves Skip away. “Get back to work yourself.”

“You’re not my boss,” Skip says.

Mick stands up. “I’m going home. Are you coming?”

Ayers looks from Cash to Mick. It’s a standoff, she realizes. To Cash she says, “Hey, I’m picking up Maia tomorrow morning and we’re hiking from Leicester Bay to Brown Bay, then swimming after. Do you want to join us?”

“Do you think Maia would mind?” Cash asks.

“Are you kidding me? She’d love it.”

“I’m in,” Cash says. “I have Winnie with me. She’s tied up outside.”

“Winnie!” Ayers says. “This is so great! I’ll text you in the morning. How are you getting to the villa? I mean, we can wait until you’re finished and give you a ride.”

“No, we can’t,” Mick says. “We have to get home. I have work tomorrow.”

“At four o’clock,” Ayers says. “Chill.”

“Don’t tell me to chill,” Mick says. “Please.”

“No problem,” Cash says. “I’ll see if Tilda can give me a ride home. If not, I’ll take a taxi.”

Skip leans across the bar. “How are those mussels?” he asks aggressively.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Ayers says. “Welcome back.”

Ayers weaves her way out of the restaurant. Mick is already on the sidewalk, lighting a cigarette. Ayers stops to rub Winnie’s head. She seems to recognize Ayers; her tail is wagging like crazy.

Mick takes a deep drag of his cigarette, then exhales. “I guess I’m confused. That’s Banker’s brother, right?”

“Cash. Right.”

“And you guys are buddy-buddy as well?”

“Mick, stop.”

“You texted him,” Mick says. “You told him about the opening on Treasure Island .”

“That was a Hail Mary,” Ayers says. “He came out on Treasure Island a few weeks ago, he was good with the guests.”

“The plot thickens,” Mick says. “Why am I just hearing about this?”

Ayers shrugs. “Why would I have told you? We were broken up.”

Angry exhale of smoke.

“You know we need to hire someone who already has a place to live,” Ayers says. “Like Cash. And I think he’d be excellent on the boat. Not okay, not good, excellent . He likes people. He’s a ski instructor—”

“Did you not hear him say his life fell apart?” Mick says. “Doesn’t that send up a red flag?”

“His father died, Mick. He found out his father had this whole other life. That’s enough to throw anyone into a tailspin.”

“Yeah, but wouldn’t you think he’d want to stay as far away from here as possible?”

Ayers inhales the night air. There’s guitar music floating down from the Quiet Mon. Across the street, the lights twinkle at Extra Virgin Bistro. “I think he came down here and fell in love with the place,” she says. “Just like I did. Just like you did.”

“As long as he didn’t fall in love with you,” Mick says. “But who are we kidding? Of course he did. There isn’t a woman in Colorado or anywhere else that’s as beautiful and sexy and cool as you.”

Ayers climbs into Mick’s blue Jeep. She’s still bothered by the memory of Brigid sitting in this seat. “Honestly, I barely know him.”

“And yet you invited him hiking with you and Maia tomorrow. You didn’t invite me; you invited Money.”

“Cash,” Ayers says, trying not to smile. Mick is good with nicknames and it’ll be hard for her now not to think of Baker and Cash as Banker and Money . “You don’t like hiking. And I’ll point out that Cash is Maia’s brother.”