Chapter Four

AROUND nine, Jonah made his way to the bar near the main desk. He had grabbed a sandwich on his way back to his room and then napped for an hour. The sun had already set, and lights glittered like stars in the courtyard and illuminated the walkways that crisscrossed the formal gardens and led toward the pool.

He took the long way, around the buildings and through the area where flamingos walked in ponds filled with colorful koi and water lilies. He stopped at the edge of the water and dug into his pocket for the bits of bread he’d stashed from his dinner.

“Still hungry, Larry?” he asked the largest of the birds, who had made its way over to check out the evening’s spoils.

The bird walked directly over to him and stretched its long neck as Jonah opened his palm—fingers together—and offered a bit of bread. Soon several other birds joined Larry to make quick work of the meager leftovers.

“More tomorrow,” Jonah promised as he stepped back to avoid Larry’s probing beak. Larry squawked and lifted its head high as if offended, then wandered back toward the others, who had retreated to the center of the pond.

The bar wasn’t very crowded. Pretty typical for a weekday after the big holiday rush had come and gone. Most of the guests this time of year were older and preferred the nightly dance revue to the piano bar and karaoke. Jonah glanced around the room. A few couples, honeymooners, judging by the way they gazed into each other’s eyes as if no one else existed, and a few groups of retirees, women mostly, who sipped fruit-laden drinks with umbrellas and giggled like teenagers.

Jonah always enjoyed studying the guests. You could learn a lot about humanity by watching people’s eyes or the way they moved. Of course it helped if you heard snippets of conversation too, but that wasn’t as important.

Jonah’s gaze came to rest on a man sitting alone at the bar. Red hair curled at his nape, and he wore a button-down shirt rolled up to his elbows, a pair of cargo shorts, and well-worn leather flip-flops. Adam. The man who’d asked directions to the dive shop. The very attractive man who’d asked directions to the dive shop. The man who now looked back at him with interest.

The man who’s a guest at the hotel, he reminded himself.

Fuck it. There was no prohibition against drinking with guests.

“Mind if I join you?” Jonah asked.

“I….” Adam smiled in recognition, then gestured at the barstool to his left. “How could I refuse someone who so kindly came to my rescue?”

“Thanks. Good to see you again, Adam.” Jonah sat and waved the bartender over. His thigh brushed Adam’s and he instinctively pulled away from the heat of the contact. “The usual, Dulcie.”

“Anything for you.” Dulcie grinned and reached for the bottle of single malt whiskey.

“Royal treatment,” Adam said with a chuckle.

Dulcie laughed. “Mr. James is a perfect gentleman,” she said.

“Dulcie…,” Jonah warned playfully. Dulcie set their drinks down, winked at Adam, then left to attend to another customer.

“Seems you have quite the reputation.”

“Apparently.” Jonah took the glass of whiskey and raised it. Adam did the same and offered Jonah a smile before drinking. “Rough day in paradise?” Jonah asked when Adam said nothing more.

Adam smiled wistfully and swirled the liquid around in his glass. “Rough year. That’s why I’m here.”

“And why most people find themselves here.” Jonah waited. If people needed to talk, they’d get around to it eventually.

Adam laughed softly and signaled Dulcie. “Another beer.”

“Of course.” Dulcie caught Jonah’s eye and pressed her lips together as she handed Adam his drink.

“It’s nothing,” Adam said after taking a long pull on the bottle. “It’d probably put you to sleep.” The slight twitch of a muscle in Adam’s cheek told Jonah the “nothing” was huge, at least in Adam’s universe.

“Try me.”

Adam looked at Jonah, longing etched in the tiny lines around his eyes. Adam needed someone to talk to. Someone who understands but doesn’t have a dog in the fight. Jonah wasn’t ever sure why he knew what he knew about people. He just, well, knew. Watching people—analyzing them—came as easy as breathing.

“I run a family business,” Adam said at last. He stared at the bottle. “Computers. Components, mostly. I took it over when my father passed. It’s doing pretty well.”

“You got out of the components business.”

Adam stared at Jonah. “I… yes. How did you know?”

“No money in components. Not when you can buy made-to-order machines for next to nothing online.”

“I majored in business. I took some programming classes and loved them. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do after I graduated, so I ended up working for my father,” Adam explained. “I tried to convince him to diversify. I didn’t get very far with that, but he let me do my own thing. The apps I wrote did pretty well. I even thought about going to grad school, but when he died….”

Life doesn’t always take you where you want to go. The echo of a memory stirred in Jonah’s thoughts, then vanished. “I’m sorry” was all he said.

Adam shrugged. “I didn’t expect to get anywhere. But I had a few ideas.”

“What sort of ideas?”

“Geeky stuff.” Adam rotated the bottle, then picked it up and drank again. “Interfaces. Behind-the-scenes programs. My sister—she helps me run the company—used to work for a Wall Street patent law firm. She convinced me to register the patents for a few of my programs. And, well….”

“Someone wants them.” Of course they did. Which explained why Adam was so hesitant to complain. He’d single-handedly salvaged his father’s moribund company, but he felt guilty about it because he’d totally changed the direction of the business. Jonah also sensed a fierce pride beneath the guilt.

“We started small. I sold a license to Yellow Zinger. They’re a midsize software company expanding into apps. I hired a developer to help me.”

A license that some bigger fish heard about. And now they want the company.

“Someone’s offered a lot of money for the company, but you don’t want to sell.”

“How did you…?”

“Just a guess.” Jonah smiled and waved Dulcie down for another drink.

“Do you work in the tech field?”

“No. Why do you ask?” The question was reasonable, but Jonah felt suddenly uncomfortable, even a little defensive.

“I’m sorry.” Adam sounded genuinely contrite. “I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just that you seem to know a lot about the business.”

“No offense taken.” Jonah shrugged off the unease that always came with talking about the past and focused once more on Adam.

“So how long are you staying?” Adam asked, the strategic change of subject yet another reminder to Jonah that he’d overreacted. At least he hadn’t totally frightened Adam off.

“At the hotel? As long as they’ll have me,” Jonah said with a chuckle.

“Damn.” Adam frowned and shook his head. “Sorry. I’m not usually so dense. You work here, don’t you?”

Jonah nodded.

“It explains how well you know the place.”

“No need to apologize. You’ve obviously got a lot on your mind.” An awkward silence fell, but Jonah ignored it. Silences were good. They gave you time to process things. Time to think.

“I swore to myself I’d relax on this trip,” Adam said after a while. “I’ve been here a whopping two hours and I’m already tied up in knots.”

“I know the perfect fix for knots.”

Adam’s cheeks reddened.

“It’s not what you think,” Jonah said quickly, realizing his mistake. He got down from the stool and offered Adam his hand. “I just want to show you something.”

Adam took Jonah’s hand. “All right.”

Jonah told himself his shiver was due to the cool evening air. Adam flushed, but once again he schooled his features. Too late, of course, but the effect was charming.

They walked in silence, Jonah leading the way to the edge of the hotel property. He stopped next to the fence that delineated the boundary between the hotel and the thick bushes and trees beyond.

“I’ll get into a shit-ton of trouble if someone finds out I took you here,” Jonah said, half jokingly. The truth was he didn’t care.

“I won’t tell.” Adam squeezed his hand, a warm and inviting gesture that had Jonah struggling against his desire for something more.

Jonah’s chest stirred with excitement, like the fluttering of palm fronds in the breeze from the water. He pointed to a spot about a foot away, behind a palm tree. A break in the fence just large enough to squeeze through. “This way.”

Jonah led Adam through the trees, relaxing with every step on the familiar path. The branches grew thicker and the smell of the salt stronger.

“Almost there,” Jonah said as they ducked to avoid several fronds. “And… here we are.”