JoAnn Bassett - Islands of Aloha 07 - Moloka'i Lullaby by JoAnn Bassett Page B

wet. And if you get in it, it makes you wet, too.” She shot me a triumphant look, as if she’d done herself proud in succinctly describing the key features of seventy-percent of the earth’s surface.
    I heaved two of her smaller bags in the trunk, and then wedged the other bags into the back seat while Amanda sullenly got herself into the passenger seat.
    I slammed the driver door, started the engine, and pulled out of the parking lot, sending up a prayer of thanks to Malama for offering to take over the bulk of the wedding chores.
    I had a feeling that once Malama met Amanda Ward she might want to renegotiate our fee arrangement. That’d be okay with me. I’d already decided if she’d be willing to take this whiny gold-digger off my hands I’d be more than willing to give her the whole darn commission.

 
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 11
     
    When we arrived at the house, George came out to greet Amanda. He ordered Lono to retrieve her luggage from the car and take it to the poolside ohana. I excused myself and joined Lono as he walked the car. Even though he was a big guy, I was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to wrangle it all in one trip.
    “Mr. Bustamante said you might be staying here,” Lono said.
    “Oh? I hadn’t heard.”
    “Yeah, he said you could have the maid’s quarters. She’s gone to visit her sister on Kaua'i for a week or so. It’s a pretty nice room, and it’s right next to my place.”
    I helped him lug Amanda’s luggage out of the car. He didn’t comment on the ridiculous number of suitcases, so I assumed George Bustamante wasn’t one to travel light, either.
    “Yeah,” he went on. “My mom says you’re gonna let her do a bunch of stuff for the wedding. Mahalo for calling her.”
    “Don’t ‘ mahalo ’ me too soon,” I said. “Amanda can be a handful.”
    He smiled. “One of those ‘bride-zillas’ my mom talks about?”
    “I have a hunch that in Amanda’s case it’s not just the wedding that’s bringing out the worst in her. She’s a pretty demanding young woman.”
    “But, we’re used to that with mainland girls, eh?” It seemed that since I’d brought his mom onboard, Lono now considered me a friend and confidant. Fine with me; I’d never turn down an offer of friendship.
    I bid him good-bye and went up to the house to see if Lono had been correct in saying George had extended an offer for me to stay in the maid’s quarters. I knocked. It took almost a full minute for someone to come to the door. The door opened and Amanda came barreling out, nearly knocking me down as she blew past. I stepped back and watched her march down the walkway, arms pumping and chin lifted.
    I peeked into the foyer past the still-open door.
    “ Aloha ,” I said. “Anybody here?”
    George stepped into the foyer. His narrowed eyes smoldered and he had a distinct red blotch blazing across one cheek.
    “That bitch slapped me,” he said.
    “Oh my,” I said. I tried to come up with a more sympathetic follow-up, but words failed me. What does one say? “ Sorry? ” The only thing that came to mind was what my auntie Mana would’ve said, “ Did you deserve it ?”
    He seemed to gather his wits and stepped back, gesturing for me to enter.
    “I’m really sorry to intrude,” I said.
    “Not at all. Please, come in.”
    I stood in the foyer, my eyes adjusting to the light. The ten-foot tall walls were covered from floor to ceiling with paintings. The canvasses were so closely spaced it was hard to determine the color of the walls.
    “Wow,” I said. “Your artwork is beautiful.”
    “Thank you. It’s all genuine, you know. No prints or tacky giclées in the bunch.”
    “Oh.” I had no idea what a giclée was, tacky or not.
    “You’ve probably heard by now what Richard has done,” he said.
    “I understand there’s been a problem.”
    “Oh my dear girl, it’s more than a mere ‘problem.’ It’s a disaster. I was attempting to explain the magnitude to that silly, stupid