Swell (6 page)

The island vibe was so relaxed I met people as mellow as the museum curator everywhere I went. There was no unnecessary rushing around. The speed limit everywhere except on the one freeway into Honolulu was thirty-five miles an hour. The freeway limit itself was fifty-five. People surfed before and after work and talked about surfing when they weren’t doing it. Of course stress existed in Hawaii but the North
Shore locals seemed to either have the time or they made the time to enjoy life. The Aloha spirit was infectious and I soon realised my own reality was almost a distant memory. I hardly looked at my watch anymore and at one point I had to stop and think what day it was. However, I knew I was in danger of becoming too complacent and complacency did not produce bestselling books. Jason may have earned his break but I had not. I had work to do before the Christmas break with or without him.

Back home at the beach house I looked out my trusty notebook that had a pleasant crêpe feel to the pages. I had always enjoyed the sensation of pen on paper and still favoured this method for my note taking and first drafts. I grabbed a pen and my i-Phone and threw them in my beach bag. I then stood in front of the bathroom mirror and studied my reflection.

My face suited a tan and the sand and salty air had naturally exfoliated my skin. I was what one would call an English rose. My skin was usually chalk white in direct contrast to the deep black of my hair, which was my crowning glory. I had an oval face and big eyes that were as green as a leprechaun’s jacket. Not having been blessed with thick eyelashes, I applied two coats of waterproof mascara and stepped back, stretching out my already wide mouth. I was neither pretty nor particularly beautiful but, as my father had always said, I had striking features in all the right places.

‘Lip-gloss,’ I muttered and applied a layer thick enough to catch flies.

My outfit was understated. A pair of denim shorts skimming my mid-thigh and a bright white vest top that clung to my breasts. I pulled my hair back into a knot tied at the nape of my neck and finished the look with a pair of thin silver hoop earrings.

‘Not bad,’ I said to myself.

I slung my bag over my shoulder, stepped into my sandals and strode confidently out of the house.

My confidence wavered somewhat when I walked up the path to the Tiger Sharks’ house and my flip-flops noisily announced my arrival.

‘Chick!’ shouted a brute with a shaved head whose hair had been replaced by jet-black tattoos.

‘Good observation,’ I muttered. ‘So are you the genius of the operation?’

‘Huh?’ he sniffed before returning to screwing the fins into his surfboard.

I stepped boldly onto the terrace at the front of the house and raised my arm to knock on the doorframe but it swung open before my fist connected with the wood. The unmistakeable sweet aroma of marijuana wafted through the fly screen.

‘Who da fuck are you?’ said another man through the screen whose tattoos had also crawled onto his face and neck.

I assumed he was assigned to door duty but if he had aspirations as a butler he really had to work on his greeting.

‘I’m Bailey Brown,’ I said with a forced smile.

The man looked me up and down and ran a thick tongue across his lips. They were outlined with a white residue that could either have been salt water or cocaine. I shifted my feet under his sexually charged gaze but stood my ground.

‘Who is it, Brah?’ said a voice from inside the house.

‘Some English wahine called Bailey, Brah. She got a good rack.’

I glanced down at my breasts.

‘Kind of you to notice. Now on a more professional note, I wondered if I could have a word with Cain Ohana. I’m writing a book on Jason Cross and I needed Cain’s input.’

The screen slid forcibly across and Cain Ohana appeared behind the burly bouncer. In contrast, he was willowy and handsome with defined bone structure and eyes as black as my hair. He wore a T-shirt slashed at the shoulders to reveal muscular arms tanned darker than the true local. The fabric clung to his torso like the skin on a sausage. There was not an ounce of fat on his body. Cain shook his head as if he had hair but it was shaved so close to his scalp I could not tell what colour his hair would naturally have been.

‘You need my input, huh? And what input would that be?’

‘Your dick put in her mouth,’ the tattooed oaf roared, finding himself hilarious.

‘Shut up, Brah,’ said Cain, smacking his friend on the arm.

He looked me up and down.

‘You know people don’t usually just rock up here uninvited asking for things and get away with it.’

I raised my chin.

‘I’m not most people, Cain.’

He stared at me then a smile spread across his face, his teeth as white as the flesh of a coconut. He looked surprisingly friendly when he smiled.

‘I like your style, Sista,’ he said, then held out a hand and guided me into the house.

I kicked off my sandals at the door, as was the Hawaiian custom, and slipped past him into an open plan sitting room and kitchen. The first thing I noticed was the number of bodies slumped around the room, many semi-naked. Surfboards covered every spare inch of floor and walls. The faces of the Tiger Sharks and their girls turned to inspect the intruder. Cain Ohana slipped a warm arm around my shoulders as we made our way across the room and lowered his mouth to my ear. His voice made me shiver.

‘Don’t mind my friend, he’s got a big mouth. Sure I’ll give you my input. I heard about you and your book.’

‘Really? How?’

‘This surfing world’s a tight knit community. We don’t miss much.’

His attempt at cosiness unsettled me. I tried to force myself to relax and accepted a bottle of cold beer from the over-sized fridge.

‘I just need to ask you some questions about your rivalry with Jason.’

Cain slowly swallowed his beer. His Adam’s apple was prominent in his slim neck.

‘Sure thing,’ he said. ‘Come out on the lanai and we can talk.’

I nodded and made to squeeze past Cain as he rested against the work surface.

‘Talk first,’ he said, burning into me with eyes so deep they made me gasp, ‘get to know each other later.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

After a nervous start, we talked for over two hours uninterrupted by the crowd of people in the house who clearly thought midday was an appropriate time to start partying again.

‘Are they your family?’ I asked.

Cain lifted his legs onto the table in front of us. I noticed he had slightly webbed feet. I was about to comment on whether webbed feet helped him in the water, but he was already talking and I didn’t want to interrupt his flow.

‘They might as well be my family. They’re my ohana, my Hawaiian family. They do better for me than my real family.’

‘Do you know your real family?’

He shook his head fervently.

‘Nah. My real dad sent me a picture of himself so I know what he looks like, but I don’t know who he is.’

‘Does he look like you?’

He shrugged, attempting nonchalance.

‘I guess, a bit yes and a bit no. I don’t care. Maybe one day he might knock on my door for my money or my fame but fuck that, I’ll slam that door right back at him.’

I paused to let him collect his thoughts.

‘But you were originally from California like Jason?’

Cain lowered his legs and spread his knees apart. He rested his elbows on them and leaned perilously close to me.

‘Let’s get this right, Sista. There ain’t nothing the same between Jason Cross and me. Get it?’

‘But you’re both champions. You’re both at the top of your game,’ I said, taking my life in my hands.

Cain sat back, grinned and opened his arms wide. He turned his head from side to side.

‘Well I sure can’t see him up here with me. Jason’s finished. Sorry to burst your bubble but he ain’t a champ no more. He’s running and he ain’t coming back. It’s my time now.’ He leaned forward and tapped my notebook. ‘Write that in your little book.’

Cain Ohana had a rawness about him that made me think he could kill a man one minute and celebrate with his nearest and dearest the next. He was calculated and somewhat fierce but stunning at the same time. His deep-set black eyes reflected the darkness bubbling beneath the surface. However, I wondered how much of the aggression was a mask he wore to hide any hint of a soft side. Of the pain his unsettled childhood had caused him. Cain was a fascinating character. He was complex and driven by a dark force. It was safe to say I had never met a man like him before.

‘Thanks for talking to me,’ I said when he returned from the kitchen and handed me another ice-cold beer.

‘Actually I really shouldn’t have another. I’m not great at drinking during the day.’

‘As long as you keep drinking, I’ll keep talking, Sista,’ he grinned. ‘I’m celebrating.’

I found him hard to refuse and by four p.m. I had a wealth of quotes for the book and a rather fuzzy head. At last I felt like a writer at work.

‘Thanks for your help,’ I said, ‘but I should be going.’

‘Where to, huh? Jason ain’t there. No point sitting in that big house all alone now is there, Sista?’

For the surfer with a reputation as a gangster, he had been incredibly accommodating and welcoming.

‘Come and party with us,’ he said. ‘We never had an English girl join the Tiger Sharks before.’

I put my phone and notebook in my bag and stopped to think. Voices inside my head told me to leave. Told me I was in the wrong camp and skating on very thin ice despite the blistering temperatures. Yet other voices told me to celebrate my own achievement of scoring an exclusive interview with the new world champion, who had very likely been misconstrued by people because of his fierce rivalry with Jason. Part of me wanted to do like the L.A. glamorous people and make the most of this opportunity. It went against my natural instinct but then taking this job had been unnaturally impulsive for me and that had been the right choice. Jason had sneaked off and left me to my own devices. Deep down I wanted to embrace the dangerous vibe that hung over Cain’s posse and throw caution to the wind. After all, when would I ever be in Hawaii again celebrating a surfing world title with the new champion and his entourage? Besides, this was essential research.

‘OK, I’ll stay,’ I said.

‘Cool, but no more work. I gave you input, now it’s time you gave me some.’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about but OK. Show me how a world champion celebrates,’ I grinned.

Cain opened the door and shepherded me into the party. The lifeless bodies from earlier were now upright and the atmosphere was electric. Punk music blasted out of the surround sound system. The house itself was a spectacular architecturally designed wooden pentagon with huge windows on four of the sides and a cinema screen on the fifth. Images of Cain surfing tropical waves flashed endlessly on the screen. A little egotistical, I thought, to play a movie of oneself at one’s own party but judging by the adoring faces staring at the film, Cain’s ego trip was welcomed.

‘Bailey, these are my Brahs, the Tiger Sharks,’ said Cain.

I turned to smile at the men lined up in the kitchen. The faces that greeted me were a mixture of ugly, hard and uglier.

‘Junior.’

‘Orca.’

‘Rosario.’

‘Maika’i.’

‘Waipahe.’

They said, standing to attention.

‘Maika’i means good looking,’ Cain explained, placing a proud arm around Maika’i’s hunched shoulders.

‘Really? Gosh your parents had good foresight,’ I lied, trying not to focus on Maika’i’s crooked nose and derelict teeth.

‘Waipahe means good-natured in Hawaiian,’ Cain carried on just as Waipahe, the tattooed machine who had greeted me at the door, opened a beer bottle with his teeth and proceeded to chew the metal bottle top.

If Jason, as many people criticised, had chosen to surround himself with the beautiful people, then Cain had obviously done his level best to do the opposite.

‘And Orca means…’

‘Killer whale, I know that one,’ I interjected, glancing nervously at the bull of a man whose eyes were towards the side of his very odd shaped head. ‘Cain is there a bathroom I could use?’

I meandered up the vast, curved staircase that led up to the bedrooms and a bathroom so immense a real tiger shark could have splashed around in the bath. Three lithe girls were prettying themselves in front of the huge mirror that covered one entire wall, reminding me of a dance studio.

‘Hello,’ I said, slipping past them into the separate toilet.

‘Hi,’ they sang in response, their word somehow stretching to three syllables.

Their false smiles were wider than their waists.

I closed the door and sat on the toilet to reflect on the day so far. I had made progress, which I was proud of and I felt I had made a valuable contact in Cain. His M.O. was the polar opposite to Jason’s professional and more Hollywood style camp but they shared characteristics in that they were both confident, successful, driven, determined to beat the other and, dare I say it, more than averagely attractive.

Long after I had finished I stayed there listening to the girly conversation outside the door.

‘Yeah like we had dinner on Maui with Tiger Woods and some other tennis players.’

‘Mimi, Tiger Woods like plays golf.’

‘Serious? What
ever
, it’s all the same to me. And that girl was at the party, the one in the new HBO series.’

‘Oh my god, she is like a totally skinny double zero.’

‘I know, Janey, and in person like she is sooo even skinnier. She is like totally anorexic.’

‘COOL.’

‘Totally cool. You know I think like if I was anorexic I still wouldn’t get skinnier than a size two.’

‘Worth a try though huh?’

I felt like stuffing a toilet roll in my mouth to stop myself screaming.

‘So did you do it with Jason or not, Mimi?’

My ears pricked up.

‘Um no he wasn’t up for it, like totally weird, but I did do it with Cory and Josh.’

‘At the same time?’

‘Like yuh huh.’

They cackled like the Macbeth witches.

‘So like who’s the new girl? Do I have to worry?’