The Holiday

 
created by Dawn DeSousa
written by Kate Perry

 
The Sweetest Thing: A San Francisco Romantic Adventure
Paradise Found: A Maui Romantic Adventure
The Holiday: A London Romantic Adventure

 
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or
are used fictiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events,
locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

© 2012 by Destination Love Stories, LLC

Cover Graphic © Darren Baker - Fotolia.com

When her almost-mother-in-law
walked in, Leilani felt three distinct emotions.

The first was anger. She was at
work, damn it—what was Mary doing here? Her gallery was an Aaron-free
zone. It was the only place on Maui that didn't hold memories of her dead
fiancé.

The second was guilt, that
Leilani felt anything negative toward the woman who'd been like a second mother
to her most of her life. Guilt that she'd never actually made Mary her
mother-in-law, because she kept putting off setting a date until it was too
late.

And, finally, there was dread,
because she knew why Mary was here and she wanted no part of it.

But Leilani put on a smile and
went to greet her almost-mother-in-law with open arms. "This is a
surprise," she said as she bussed the woman's plump cheeks.

"I haven't seen you in so
long, I thought I'd stop by." The woman squeezed Leilani, clinging like
she was a lifeline. Her scent, powdery and sweet, used to remind her of
childhood but now only tasted like ashes in her mouth.

Desperation rose in her throat,
choking her. She pried herself out of the woman's clutches, trying to hold on
to the edges of her smile.

Mary looked around. "I don't
suppose you can step out to get a cup of coffee?"

"I can't right now. I wish
I'd known you were coming. I could have arranged something." A subtle lie,
but it added to her guilt nonetheless.

"Well." Mary smiled
sadly. "I just wanted to talk to you about Aaron's benefit surf
competition. The committee and I discussed it and we'd like you to be our spokesperson.
We know Aaron would have liked that."

Aaron had liked anything that'd
pull her into his world of surfing. There, he'd been a god, and he'd liked
parading her around like she was his favored concubine.

Leilani mentally winced. That was
spectacularly unfair. Aaron had loved her—always—unconditionally.
They'd known each other since they were kids. They'd started dating at fourteen
and had been engaged by the time they were twenty-five.

He'd been so sure of them.
She'd
been the one to have doubts. She'd
been the one who hadn't wanted to set a date.

She couldn't help it. Everything
had been surfing with him, which would have been fine except he wanted
everything to be surfing for her too. He'd wanted her to travel around the
world with him living some modern day, romantic
Endless Summer
. His vision held no room for any of her own dreams.
She wanted to travel the world too, but to see art. It seemed to her that they
could have compromised. Not so.

What kind of art dealer had never
been to see the Mona Lisa in Paris? Or the Elgin marbles in London?

Her
.

Aaron had never understood. Paris
and London had no surf—why anyone went there was a mystery to him. And
he'd never been a jerk about it. He'd just smiled in his easy way and said,
"I have a competition this month. We can go to London another time."

Another time
had never come. Maybe if it had, she would have agreed to set a
date. Instead, she'd held him—and their families—off for five
years.

Now it was too late.

Ironically, it'd been the surfing
that had killed him. A giant wave off Shipstern Bluff in Australia that had
sucked him under and refused to let go.

And now Aaron's mom stood before
her, smiling that same crooked smile Aaron had had, except tainted with the
sadness of losing her only beloved son, wanting to drag her further into
Aaron's surf world, even though he was no longer with them.

So Leilani did the only thing she
could do. She nodded and said, "I'd love to be the spokesperson."

"I knew you would." The
relief and delight that lit Mary's face was painful to see. The woman took her
hand, her pleasure fading into a frown. "You're not wearing your
ring."

Leilani automatically looked down
at the tan line that was the only remnant of her engagement. She'd taken off
the ring after his funeral, and it only added to her guilt that it'd felt more
like a relief than a sad ending.

But with her not-quite
mother-in-law standing before her looking at her with eyes ringed in sorrow,
she couldn't admit that. "I'm having it cleaned," she lied.

"Oh." Mary nodded,
appeased.

The front door pealed delicately,
and they both looked up to see a striking woman stride in. She had raven black
hair in a stylish bob, perfectly framing large blue eyes. She came from
money—if her designer clothing wasn't a giveaway then her confident and
proud bearing was. This woman had been wherever she wanted to go and knew exactly
where she was headed next.

Leilani felt a pang of jealousy.
The only place she'd ever been, other than the Hawaiian Islands, was the
mainland, and only California at that.

"I guess I should go."
Mary caught her up in a gripping embrace. With another glance at Leilani's
naked finger, she left the gallery.

The moment the door closed behind
Aaron's mother, she inhaled deeply. She felt like she could breathe again.

"Are you all right?" a
husky British voice asked.

Leilani blinked at her posh
customer, who gazed at her with concern. "That was my mother-in-law. Kind
of."

The woman arched a brow.
"Kind of?"

"It's a long story."
She sighed. Then she pasted her proprietor's smile on her face. "But tell
me how I can help you. Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"I heard fabulous things
about this gallery and wanted to look around." The woman smiled brightly
and held her hand out. "Melanie King."

"Leilani Wakida." She
shook the British woman's hand, feeling like they'd met before. Ridiculous,
because as a gallery owner she had to commit all customers and potential
customers to memory, and she'd have definitely remembered this striking woman.

"You own this gallery."
Melanie studied her. Whatever conclusion she reached must have been positive
because she nodded once and then briskly said, "Do you mind if I look
around on my own?"

"Of course not. Let me know
if you have questions."

Melanie gave her a crisp nod and strode
with purpose, intuitively starting at the right side, where Leilani had
intended the exhibit to begin.

The door chimed softly again, and
Leilani looked up to find Sam walk in looking carefree in a flirty sundress.
Leilani hadn't felt carefree in so long. She was sure she looked the exact
opposite—weighed upon and drawn.

"Hey," Sam said,
walking up to her and giving her a quick hug. Then her friend, resident artist,
and business partner frowned. "What's wrong?"

She glanced at the British
customer's back and lowered her voice. "Is it that obvious?"

"Only if you have
eyes."

"Aaron's mother stopped
by."

Sam winced.

"Exactly."

"What does she want
now?"

"She wants me to
participate
."

"In...?"

"The surfing competition
they're putting on in honor of his memory. She wants me to be the
spokesperson." Even she heard the resentment in her tone.

"Ouch." Sam patted her
arm. "I'm so sorry."

Maybe it was Sam's sympathy that
did it, but suddenly it all spewed out. "They won't leave me alone. It's
like I'm a widow, only Aaron and I weren't even married. They won't let me move
on. I'm like a half-Japanese Miss Havisham."

"I know," her friend
said sympathetically.

"You don't understand."
Leilani gripped Sam's arm and leaned in to whisper. "Do you know how long
it's been since I've had sex?"

Sam blinked. "A long
time?"

"Over a year and a
half," she replied grimly. "And that's not going to change, because
as far as all the locals are concerned, I'm Aaron's wife."

"There are tons of tourists
who come to Maui. Can't you hook up with some hunky guy?"

"I'm
connected
on this island. The second I even talk to a man, someone
who knew Aaron steps in and protects my virtue." She threw her hands in
the air. "My virtue doesn't need saving. It needs pillaging."

Sam laughed. "I wish I could
introduce you to someone but all the eligible guys I know are in Boston. Maybe
Jake has a friend."

"It wouldn't make any
difference, not if they came here."

"Then maybe you should go
somewhere else."

Leilani sighed. "And leave
you to run the gallery, when you have an art show coming up?"

"We can hire a part-time
salesperson to help out." Sam shrugged. "And tourist season is just
about over. If you wanted to get away for a awhile, this is the time."

"You're going on
holiday?"

Startled by the British woman,
who'd somehow managed to creep up on them despite her spiky shoes, Leilani
blurted, "No, of course not."

Melanie arched her elegant brow.
"That's not what it sounded like a moment ago."

"It isn't," Sam said
with her usual candor. She held her hand out. "Samantha Summerhill-West.
I'm Leilani's friend and partner."

"Mel King." The woman
pursed her lips, studying Sam as she shook her hand. "Surely not
the
Samantha Summerhill-West, who's a
modern day Georgia O'Keefe?"

"Does my reputation precede
me?"

"In the best way possible. I
own one of your dahlia series."

Brightening, Sam grinned.
"You have excellent taste."

"I do, rather." Melanie
winked at her. Then she turned to Leilani, all business again. "I have
good sense too, enough to know that you have cabin fever."

What was the point in denying it?
"Maui can get claustrophobic sometimes."

Melanie nodded. "I love my
island, but I have to get off it occasionally too."

"Maui is especially small
somehow, I think because the Wakida family is so well-known here." As was
Aaron's family.

"You grew up here."

"Yes."

"That contributes,
certainly. It's hard to be an adult around people who saw us in nappies, isn't
it?"

Finally someone who understood.
"People see me the way they want. They don't see who I've become."

"People don't want us to
change because it makes them uncomfortable."

"Ain't that the truth? I'm
off to cook the books." Sam turned to Melanie. "It was great meeting
you. I hope you enjoy the rest of your vacation here."

"She does the
accounting?" Melanie asked, watching Sam walk away.

"She constantly amazes
me."

The British woman faced her.
"Now, I want to ask you—"

But before Melanie could complete
her sentence, the front door opened.

At first Leilani couldn't tell
anything about the man who walked in except that he was tall and thin. The sun backlit
him in such a way that shadows swallowed his features. But when the door closed
and he walked toward them, her breath caught.

He had the dearest face she'd
ever seen. Manly and boyish at once, with floppy brown hair and a chiseled jaw.
His gaze was direct.

His lips looked kissable.

She flushed. She hadn't thought
about kissing another specific man in—well, never.

He smiled, and she felt part of
her that had been frozen for so long melt.

And then he walked straight to
Melanie and put his arm around her waist.

The disappointment was sharp and shocking.
Not that she should have been surprised. It seemed like everyone had someone to
love.

Except her.

But that wasn't what she wanted,
she told herself. She wanted sex, and she wanted companionship but on her terms.
She wasn't willing to go through what she went through with Aaron again. She
was her own woman again, and she wasn't giving that up for anything.

The first thing Colin noticed
when he walked into the art gallery was a tall, exotic woman standing next to
Mel. The
only
thing he noticed when
he walked in was that woman.