The sun begins to rise over the ocean as I sit in my hammock outside my shack on the beach. The bright yellow color that the sun brings is what I live for. Usually, before the sun starts to rise in the morning, I am already on the beach with my surfboard in hand. Early morning is the best time to catch some waves because very few people get up this early in the morning. The beach is empty as well as the ocean.
But today is the first time in years that I haven’t woken before the sun with a surfboard in hand. The last time I remember missing a morning surf session was when I was sick with the flu. And, even then, I tried to get out of bed. I planned to go surfing that morning. My stomach just didn’t agree with me, so I never left the bathroom that day.
I even go out surfing when the weather is less than perfect, which is rare for Hawaii, but still. I’ve surfed with the rain pouring down and lightning and thunder overhead.
Today though is the first day that I’ve chosen to do something else. I open my old laptop that I rarely, if ever, use and I type Sloane and Hawaii into the search bar. I don’t have her last name, and I know it’s a complete long shot, but maybe I’ll get lucky. If not, I’m going to have to go back to the bar where I met her last night and convince Paige, the waitress, to tell me her last name.
It takes a minute for my Wi-Fi to connect and for the page to come up. But, finally, it does. I click on the first link and see Sloane’s pretty, green eyes, luscious red lips, and shoulder-length blonde hair pop up on the screen.
I grin. This is too easy.
Her name is Sloane Hart. She runs a nonprofit called Kindness First with her grandmother. Actually, it’s one of the biggest employers on the island and also has satellite locations around the world. I’m surprised I’ve never heard of her. But it’s not like we run in the same circles. She’s the complete opposite of me in fact.
I’m the devil. I destroy people’s lives. She’s an angel. She gives children food and a chance at life.
I pause for a second. I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t destroy a woman’s life when she does so much good for the world.
What if, after I rip her heart out, she doesn’t have the strength to continue her nonprofit work? What if she never leaves her house again? Becomes a hermit?
I would have not only destroyed her life, but also thousands of kids around the world. This is on a whole different level, even for me.
I stare back at the woman on the screen who looks so similar to so many local girls. In the picture, she is wearing a simple T-shirt with her company’s logo and jeans. She’s surrounded by kids that I’m sure she has been feeding. But, if you put her in a bikini, she would look just like every other girl on this island.
Except for one thing.
The twinkle in her eyes. It’s different than anything I have ever seen before. It could just be this picture. The photographer could have just caught her eyes at just the right moment to catch the sunlight that caused her eyes to sparkle.
Or it could be her. I choose to believe it’s Sloane causing the twinkle. The rest of her body language indicates as much.
And her smart mouth from last night tells me that she is used to being in control and is good at it. She’s strong and kind. She’ll survive. I might destroy her, but I have no doubt that she will keep the nonprofit going. And, if she doesn’t, well, it’s not my fault if thousands of children go hungry. I’m sure her job isn’t that important anyway. Another organization would just take over caring for her kids.
I start reading article after article, trying to find out everything I can about Sloane Hart. She went to Harvard and majored in business. She graduated at the top of her class in fact. She grew up on the East Coast but would visit her grandmother here in Hawaii every summer. She moved here after graduation and has been working alongside her grandmother ever since. She met Wes at some point in college, but that is about all the articles say about Wes. He went to Harvard as well, so he can’t be that stupid, but none of the articles talk about him running his own company or having any involvement in her company. They all just talk about their upcoming wedding. That’s it.
I sigh when I finish reading the last article about Sloane that said much of the same as every other article about her. She’s smart, loving, strong. The best person in the world to run a nonprofit organization. They all believe that, in the next five years, her nonprofit could become the largest in the world. She’s that good at what she does. I’ve studied everything I can about her on paper, and I haven’t found a weakness. Not a single one.
As far as I can tell, she doesn’t have one. I grin, but this is exactly what I wanted. A challenge. And Sloane is not disappointing me there. This is exactly what I want.
I crack my neck from side to side as I begin to think of all my options to get into her life.
Apply for a job at her company? I shake my head. I don’t have time for that, and as soon as she found out I was working for her, she would fire me.
Stalk her? Wouldn’t work with Sloane. She’d call the police on me the second she spotted me.
Randomly run into her? She’d think I was stalking her.
My phone buzzes, interrupting my thoughts. I frown when I see the name on the screen. I answer though because I know, if I don’t, she’ll just keep calling me back.
“What?” I answer the phone.
“Well, hello to you, too. Why aren’t you at the beach?” Shauna, my agent and basically my boss for all intents and purposes, asks.
I frown. “How do you know I’m not at the beach this morning? Are you spying on me? I’m allowed to take a break from surfing every once in a while.”
She laughs. “I don’t give a shit if you practice every day or not. All I care about is that you look good in your swim trunks and show up to the appearances and bookings we have given you. That’s it.”
“What are you talking about? I don’t have an appearance or shoot today.”
I can practically feel Shauna frowning on the other end of the line. That’s how annoyed she is.
“I knew we shouldn’t have hired a surfer. We pay you millions a year, and you can’t even remember to show up when you’re told. Even our basketball stars know how to show up even if they are still hungover from the night before. But, no, we decided to go with a surfer. Surfers are cool, are in right now. A surfer will help our brand. Right now, all I think is, we are paying you too goddamn much to not show up when you’re told.”
“Shauna, I’m sorry you’re having a shitty day or PMSing or whatever is going on with you. But I was never told about an appearance for today.” I check my calendar and email quickly to make sure, but there is nothing there.
I grin because I’m right, and Shauna is wrong.
“Shit, you’re right. Why the fuck do you have to be right?”
“Because I’m the devil.”
She sighs. “That, you are. Regardless of whose fault it is, I need you on the beach in ten minutes, or the cushiony paycheck we pay you every month will go away.”
I laugh. “No, it won’t. This is your fault. You screwed up, not me. And, if you think I care about the money, you are wrong.”
“Goddamn it, Asher! Just get your ass down to the beach now. It’s not like you have anything better to do. You surf; that’s it. That’s your entire life. So, just do it.”
“And what will you do for me?”
“I won’t kill you. Now, go! You need this job anyway. Even though you still win plenty of events, you are getting less sponsorships because of your reputation with women, which we need to discuss later. You aren’t a great image for many people’s brands. So, just be happy that you are getting any work.”
I frown and then hear her mumble something about surfers and how she’ll never work with a surfer again before she realizes she never ended the call. When I hear the beeping sound, indicating that she did hang up, I get up out of my hammock and return my laptop to my shack. The laptop was secondhand and cost less than a hundred dollars, so it’s not like anyone is going to come in and steal it.
Shauna forgets that I don’t care about money, or maybe she just doesn’t remember. As long as I can buy beer and food, I’m good. I could easily make money by flipping burgers for a few hours each day and still have plenty of time to spend most of my day surfing.
I change into swim trunks and then climb into my truck that already has my surfboard in the back.
I begin driving toward the best surfing spot on the island. Shauna never said where I was supposed to go or what the appearance was. But I know where she is talking about. And, no matter what the appearance is, I’ll need to be in swim trunks, or they will tell me what they want me to wear.
And maybe a distraction away from Sloane for a couple of hours isn’t such a bad idea. It will help me to get my thoughts in order so that I can form a plan of attack for later.
I pull up to the spot on the beach ten minutes later. And I jump out of my truck and find Shauna looking as sassy as ever in her heels and dress. She starts walking toward me, and I laugh as her heels sink in the sand.
“Are you ever going to learn to dress appropriately for the beach?” I ask her as I cock my head to one side.
She frowns. “I don’t have time for your crap today, Asher.”
“Honestly, I think you are the only person in the world who hates the beach. Most people would love to have your job and be able to hang out in Hawaii all day.”
She rolls her eyes. “Today, you are giving surf lessons.”
I frown. “Surf lessons? Really? That’s the big money-making opportunity that I was going to cost us if I didn’t show up today?”
Shauna motions to the camera crew behind her. “We are filming it for a couple of ads, and the guys are paying big bucks to have you teach them.”
I groan. “You couldn’t have at least found a group of women who needed surf lessons?”
“That’s not what we are going for. We want you to show that surfing can make any guy look cool.”
“You know women with boobs sell a lot better.”
She laughs. “It sells better to guys. But we aren’t trying to sell to guys. We are trying to sell to women. And what better way to sell to women than with a bunch of hot guys who are single?”
“Don’t you think we will come across as gay?”
She shrugs. “Maybe, but women also like knowing they can turn a hot gay guy straight. Or at least fantasize about it. It doesn’t matter. Just be hot and teach these guys how to surf. They agreed to let us film them, and they all happen to be hot as well, so lucky us.”
I frown. “I should have stayed home.”
“Then, you wouldn’t have gotten paid. Now, go teach those guys how to surf.”
She swats my ass as I walk by.
“I don’t care about the money, and I’m pretty sure that was sexual harassment!” I yell back as I jog toward the group of guys awkwardly holding surfboards at the edge of the water.
“Then, sue me!” she shouts back.
I smile.
I turn my attention to the idiots standing on the beach. “I’m Asher. I guess I’ll be teaching you how to surf today.”
A blonde guy with a short haircut and, I hate to say, a fit body sticks out his hand. “I’m Wes.”
My lips curl up just a little at the mention of his name. “Nice to meet you, Wes.”
“And these are my cousins and groomsmen, Elijah and Cody.”
I shake each of their hands.
“I’m his best man,” Elijah says.
“Don’t let him fool you. I’m his best man,” Cody says.
Wes rolls his eyes. “The best man spot is still up for grabs.”
“And the spot of the bride?” I ask.
“That’s taken by Sloane Hart. You might have heard of her. She runs Kindness First, a nonprofit whose headquarters are located here on the island.”
I shake my head. “Never heard of her. But you sound like a lucky man.”
“I am,” Wes says, smiling like an idiot.
That’s when I realize what Sloane’s weakness is. Wes. Wes is her weakness. It’s clear he doesn’t have a lot of guy friends if he brought only his cousins, and he doesn’t clearly have a best man. That means, there is a spot open for me. I can become his friend. His best man even. That will ensure I get to spend plenty of time with Sloane. And Sloane won’t be able to turn me away because I’ll be Wes’s best friend. That’s my way in. Through Wes.
“So, have any of you surfed before?”
All three shake their heads.
I put on a fake smile. “Well, let’s see what you’ve got.”
“You aren’t going to teach us how to stand on the board on the ground first?” Elijah asks.
I raise an eyebrow. “Do you really want to spend all day jumping up on a surfboard on the sand, or do you want to learn how to surf?”
“Well…I-I…” Elijah stutters.
I roll my eyes. “If you were looking for a babysitter to teach you, then you came to the wrong place. I believe in learning from doing, not pretending. I’m the best surfer in the world, currently ranked number one. If you want to learn from the best, then you don’t get to question my methods. If you aren’t willing to take my terms, then stop wasting my time.”
Wes smiles. “Teach us your ways, oh great one.”
I nod. “Good. I’ll get my board and meet you out there. Lie on your board and swim as far out into the ocean as you can.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for you?” Cody asks.
“Don’t worry; I’ll catch up.”
I jog back to my truck to grab my board, happy that this has taken such a good turn. The only thing better would have been if Sloane herself were asking for lessons, but something tells me that, even if Sloane didn’t know how to surf, she wouldn’t be the type to ask for lessons. She would be the type to learn how to surf and be great at it the first time out. She wouldn’t need an instructor.
I grab my board and then begin jogging back to the beach. I see the cameraman aiming his camera at me as I jog. I can’t imagine how they are going to turn this into a commercial, but if I can buddy up to Wes while getting paid to do it, then I’m not going to complain.
As I jog back down the beach with my board in hand, I glance out at them floundering in the ocean, seemingly barely moving at all, as wave after wave crashes down on them. I wouldn’t have brought first-time surfers to this beach, but I know why my sponsors chose this spot. It has the best waves and lighting. They’ll just be lucky to get a shot of any of them up on a surfboard. Although maybe they just want an ad of a bunch of hot guys hanging out and looking stupid while I surf.
Wes is the only one who is making any progress at all, though he isn’t that far ahead of the rest of them.
I run into the water with my surfboard and then dive under the first wave. I swim hard, kicking my feet to propel me forward, and then finally come up for air several feet in front of Wes.
“Dive under the next wave!” I shout to Wes.
I sit on top of the waves for the next one so that I can see how he does. He tries but ends up coming up, quickly coughing up the salty water.
I chuckle. “Try again. Blow out through your nose this time as you dive, so you don’t get a nose full of water.”
Wes tries again, and this time, he makes it to me before he comes back up.
“Not bad,” I say as he breathes heavily next to me.
“Yeah, I’m awesome. I can dive underwater and hold my breath for five seconds. I was born to surf,” Wes says sarcastically.
I laugh. “Well, you are doing better than Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum back there.”
Wes laughs as we both stare back at his cousins, who have barely moved from the edge of the beach.
“I guess we should wait for them,” I say.
“Nah, I need a break from them.”
I nod. “All right, so one more dive, and you should be in position. This time, dive down and kick hard until you can’t hold your breath anymore. That should get you on the other side of the swell. Then, we’ll have you up and surfing.”
He laughs.
“And dive,” I say.
We both dive down into the water. When I come up for air, I see that Wes has, too, but he’s going to have to take one or two more dives down to get to where I am. I wait patiently as he does. When he finally reaches me, he is breathing heavily. He’s in decent shape, but the ocean definitely takes a different toll on the body if you aren’t used to it.
“So, why do you want to learn how to surf anyway?” I ask.
“My fiancée. She’s spent many summers here, and if we are going to live here full-time after we get married, I figured I’d better learn how to surf. I know she loves it even if she rarely makes time to surf anymore. I want to be able to do something with her that she enjoys and not look like a total imbecile.”
I nod. “I think you are going to need more than one lesson today to accomplish that.”
“Yeah, well, I was told you’d only do the one.”
“I think I could fit you into my schedule for the next couple of weeks.”
“That would be great.”
I look back to the camera crew, who is growing impatient. “I need to get up on the board to ensure I get paid. After I go, give it your best shot. You’re going to fall if you even get up, but I think that is what they are wanting.”
Wes nods. “Yeah, I figured.”
“But don’t worry; I’ll have you surfing. Just give me a week or two.”
I see the next wave coming. It’s not perfect, but then nothing ever is. I wink at Wes, and I take off with the wave.
I don’t have to think as I surf; I just do. I’ve done this so many times before, and this wave is nothing compared to the larger waves that I often surf. Still, I respect the wave, the ocean. I know that, every time I come out here, I’m putting my life at risk. That this could all be over if I’m not careful. So, I try to keep my thoughts on what I’m doing and not on Sloane. Not on the plan that has practically fallen into my lap.
I reach the shore and jump off the board before I remember that I’m being filmed. I make sure to smile as I kick the board up with my foot and then carry it all the way up the beach. I turn my attention back to Wes, who is sitting on his board, looking completely clueless and completely terrified.
I watch the next wave come, but it is going to be much too strong for him. “Hold off till the next one!” I shout.
He nods and tries to maintain his position as the next wave comes. It really doesn’t matter which wave he tries. I doubt he even manages to stand on the board his first time out.
I watch as another wave begins. “This one, Wes! Start paddling and then try to stand!” I shout.
Wes begins paddling and then starts trying to climb up onto the board. His timing is off, but somehow, he muscles his way up until he is somewhat upright. Then, he immediately falls over as a wave crashes down on him.
He comes up for air a couple of seconds later, looking a bit dazed but otherwise fine. He slowly makes his way back to the beach and then falls to the ground.
“I don’t know how you are able to make that look so easy. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stand up on the board,” Wes says, panting hard.
“Well, you won’t ever be able to do what I just did unless you plan on devoting your next twenty years to surfing. But I can at least get you upright your next time out.”
I extend my hand to him, and he takes it and stands up.
“Same place tomorrow?” Wes asks.
I glance over at the police cruiser that is creeping by far too slowly, staring at us.
I laugh. “No. We are going to try a much tamer beach next time.”