Dylan Read Free

“You know, as
the
host of
The Daily Grind,
I
am
privy to—”
    Her BlackBerry tooted the
Daily Grind
theme song. “I have to take this.” She lifted her tissue-stuffed bags, and
poof,
Dylan’s matchmaking mom was gone like Criss Angel.
    Alone at last.
    “Hey, J.T.” Ash wave-walked over, her black high-pony swinging like a happy puppy’s tail.
    “Whaddup, Ash?” he mumbled, never taking his eyes off Dylan.
    Ehmagawd, was he crushing back?
    Perkyshorts got the hint and harrumphed to the front of the store.
    “Those are pretty sweet kicks,” he said, nodding at Dylan’s shoes. He lifted one toned leg, revealing an identical shoe.
    Dylan blew Merri-Lee a mental air kiss to thank her for picking the Nikes.
    “So, are you the hard-core-into-tennis type?” He raised his brown brows. “Or the all-gear, no-idea type?”
    “Puh-lease! I totally heart tennis,” she lied. “I
have
to buy this outfit. I’ve already worn my other ones out.”
    He chuckled.
    Did he think she was joking?
    Lying?
    Charming?
    Fat
?
    “I think you should get that one.” He smiled with his midnight blue eyes. “Come on, I’ll walk you to the register.”
    Dylan thought about rescuing her sarong from the changing room but decided not to bother. Her new tennis persona wouldn’t dream of wearing something that impractical and chic. Besides, the sweet smell of J.T.’s coconut-scented sunscreen had suddenly become something she couldn’t live without, and it was now heading in the opposite direction.
    “Oh no,” she accidentally blurted as they reached a rack of white visors.
    “What?” J.T. stopped walking and touched the small of her back.
    “My mom has my AmEx black card in her purse.”
    J.T. grinned. “No worries. It’s on me.”
    “Really?” Dylan beamed, and
not
because of the 100 percent discount.
    “Really.” He caught Ash’s attention and air-scribbled. She nodded once. And just like that, they strolled out of the boutique without so much as stopping to pick up a complimentary mint.
    “Love the outfit.” Dylan smiled, the afternoon sun warming her air-conditioned shoulders. “My tennis elbow thanks you.”
    “You have tennis elbow?” he asked with grave concern.
    Something in his expression made Dylan wonder if she had misused the term.
    “Kidding,” she tried.
    His smile returned.
    “You’re funny.”
    “You’re right,” she giggled. “Thanks again for the dress.”
    “No problem. I’ll have Ash send more up to your room.” He quickly scanned her. “Size six?”
    “Four,” she corrected him quickly.
    “Four it is!” He waved once and turned toward the villas. “See you tonight.”
    “Yup. See ya tonight.” Dylan rocked back on the rubber heels of her Nikes, hoping the boutique had a decent exchange policy.
    KAPALUA SPA AND TENNIS CLUB
ALOHA OPEN VIP PARTY
    Monday, June 29
    7 P.M.
    “I feel like I’m in a floral-scented snow globe,” Dylan whispered to Merri-Lee later that night.
    They had just entered the massive tent on the hibiscus-lined bluff overlooking the twilit Pacific. Everywhere Dylan looked she saw white: white orchid centerpieces, white chandeliers dripping with pearls, white Mikasa china, frosted-white goblets, and, of course, white-clad tennis lovers sampling appetizers and predicting this year’s Aloha Open champions. And it was all set to the driving electronic beats of the Chemical Brothers. An odd choice for a VIP dinner, but so were sneakers.
    Feeling like a total mom-glom, Dylan quickly ditched Merri-Lee in search of someone worth texting home about.
    She wove through the crowd in her silver Nike Zooms, her mom’s diamond-studded four-leaf clover Chopard earrings swinging above the mesh straps of her Svetlana for Nike dress. In the absence of color and delicate fabrics, Dylan needed something that spoke to the side of her that wasn’t selling out for a crush. Never had her lids been so smoky or her pulse points more saturated in ginger-blackberry DKNY Delicious Night