Dying for a Daiquiri Read Free

having an affair with your brother.”

 
     
     
CHAPTER TWO
     
     
    My gaze zoomed to the stage where Dave and Keiki stood side by side, deep in conversation, her hand resting lightly on his freckled forearm.
    How do you say “Oh crap” in Hawaiian?
    “You must have misunderstood,” I said to Stan. “Dave would never have an affair. He’s one of the good guys.”
    Dave was twelve and I was ten when our father died in an auto accident. My brother had been my rock during that sorrowful period and through my heartbreaking divorce almost three years ago. He’d flown to California to provide solace after my contractor husband, Hank McKay, had left me for one of his female clients. Hank’s definition of multitasking apparently meant nailing his client as well as her shingles.
    Dave had not only provided a broad shoulder to cry on, he’d also offered to rearrange my ex’s body parts. Now that’s a terrific brother!
    “Keiki didn’t admit they were having an affair, but she didn’t deny it either.” Stan nudged my arm and pointed at the stage. “Look at the two of them.”
    Keiki and Dave chatted and laughed together, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. My brother possesses a great sense of humor. His entire staff probably adored him as much as his younger sister did.
    “Uh, oh,” Stan said. “Look who just arrived.”
    My sister-in-law walked through the restaurant headed in our direction. Her dark almond-shaped eyes proclaimed her Chinese heritage, while her porcelain complexion and auburn hair were inherited from her Blarney Stone-kissing kin. Today she appeared exhausted, her face alabaster pale above her colorful sundress. The bright red blossoms on her dress matched the flowering hibiscus bushes nestled around the building.
    Stan jumped up and offered his chair. Regan nodded her thanks and sat next to me, her eyes glued to the stage where my brother and Keiki conversed. I had no idea if Stan’s information about Dave and the dancer was correct, but diverting my sister-in-law’s attention from the stage seemed like a good idea.
    I smiled at her. “Dave told us you had to meet with your boss today. I’m glad you made it back for the reception.”
    “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here earlier,” Regan said. “Koffee Land is hosting a reality show in ten days. The owners, Ritz and Pilar Naygrew, had a ton of stuff to go over with me.”
    “That sounds exciting,” I said, as visions of Hollywood stars danced in my head.
    My sister-in-law rubbed her palms over her eyes. “It’s far more annoying than exciting at this point. But Ritz is my boss. When he says jump, I leap as high as he sets the bar.”
    A fruity drink magically appeared in front of Regan. I could never keep these tropical concoctions straight, but this one was about the size of a Honda Civic.
    Regan thanked the waitress. “ Mahalo , Walea.”
    “You’re welcome,” said the server. “You missed a terrific show tonight.”
    Regan nodded towards Dave and Keiki. “I think I arrived just in time to see the ‘show’.” She picked up her glass and inhaled the cocktail as if it were fruit juice sans the alcohol.
    Walea gnawed on her lower lip. I leaned forward wondering how she would respond to Regan’s remark.
    “Can I get you anything, Laurel?” Walea evidently decided to keep mum on the subject of my brother and her sister.
    When I declined her offer, she sashayed away, making me wonder if island parents taught their toddlers to wiggle their hips as soon as they learned to crawl.
    Dave finally noticed Regan’s arrival. He broke off his conversation with Keiki, walked across the stage and down the steps, arriving at our table. He sat next to his wife and aimed a kiss at her cheek. He missed as she rebuffed him and turned to face me.
    “How was the ceremony, Laurel?” Regan asked. “Was Liz happy with the location?”
    “That small stone church you recommended was beautiful,” I said. “I can’t imagine a more