Gentle Persuasion Read online

  “How are you enjoying Hawai’i?” the younger girl asked conversationally.

  Ophelia noticed she pronounced her homeland’s name with the appropriate accent. It was a pleasant sound.

  “It’s beautiful. An island paradise. But I haven’t even been here twenty-four hours, so I can’t say I’ve experienced much.”

  “Except Tutu’s hospitality?” Leilani smirked as she slid a plate of food into the microwave above the stove to heat it.

  “Is she always so...”

  “Outspoken? Usually.” Leilani shrugged. “But she’s been touchy lately. Things are...tense.”

  Ophelia straightened with interest. “Oh?”

  “Yeah. The inn and plantation are experiencing financial issues. When Dane bought the property, it had fallen into pretty bad disrepair. He sank all of his savings into the renovations and roasting equipment, and he hasn’t been able to recoup his investment.”

  Ophelia mulled over this new information. “Any new venture takes time to turn a profit,” she remarked.

  “That’s what Dane tells Tutu to keep her from worrying. But it’s not hard to tell that he’s worried, too.”

  The microwave emitted a series of beeps, and Leilani swapped out one plate for another. She turned to face Ophelia once more.

  “So you should feel good, knowing your stay here contributes to a worthy cause.” She winked pleasantly, and Ophelia felt the sting of guilt.

  “It’s a lovely inn, and I’m happy my stay will provide a bit of income. Only...”

  Leilani placed the first warmed plate of food on the table and gestured for Ophelia to take a seat. Carrying her glass and a set of flatware with her, she settled at the teak table.

  “Only?”

  “Only, I’m afraid you’ve been nothing but sweet and open with me, and you’ll likely not appreciate my reasons for coming here in the first place.”

  Leilani considered her for several seconds, and Ophelia left the plate of food untouched as they stared at each other. Eventually, the microwave’s beeping broke the silence.

  “You’re one of them, aren’t you?” Leilani made no move toward the microwave.

  “Them?”

  “From Dane’s past. From New York.”

  “No, not exactly. I mean, yes, I’m from New York. But I just met your boss this morning. I knew him by his reputation in the corporate world, but we never laid eyes on each other before today.”

  Leilani cocked her head, studying. “Then you’re one of those recruiters.”

  Ophelia dipped her head in acknowledgment. “How many have there been? Before me?”

  Leilani shrugged carelessly before turning toward the microwave. “Enough to become an annoyance.” She turned back and studied Ophelia. “None as pretty as you, though.”

  Ophelia blushed, but Leilani turned back toward the microwave without commenting further. Removing her own warmed plate, she joined Ophelia at the table, settling comfortably across from her. Ophelia toyed awkwardly with her silverware, not wanting to appear rude by diving straight into the food. Her mother had instilled that habit in her long ago.

  Leilani noted her fidgeting and grinned, putting her at ease once more. “Go ahead. Tutu’s a much better cook than conversationalist—I promise.”

  Offering a small smile in return, Ophelia took up her fork and speared a chunk of roasted sweet potato. The starchy morsel melted on her tongue, a tangy ginger glaze causing her taste buds to tingle happily. She quickly forked another bite and then a third into her mouth before moving on to the crisp, smoky, soy skin of the huli huli chicken. After a long stretch of minutes and more bites that included the doughy, honeyed mango bread and fragrantly steamed rice with pineapple, Ophelia paused to take a breath. At some point while she ate, Leilani had filled her glass with lime-spiked water. She took a long sip before shrugging apologetically.

  “I must have been hungrier than I realized.”

  Leilani beamed at her. “It’s good to see a city girl eat like that. Most of the other recruiters who came turned up their noses at our food. It offended Tutu immensely.”

  “It’s their loss,” Ophelia assured as she peeled another savory section of chicken from the bone and popped it into her mouth.

  “Tutu’s going to end up loving you.”

  Ophelia wrinkled her nose with skepticism. “I somewhat doubt that, but...” She paused. “Thank you. For not getting upset about why I’m here.”

  Leilani licked her fingers and leaned back in her chair. “You’re just doing your job.”

  “That’s a very positive outlook. I hardly imagine other recruiters were welcomed so generously.”

  “Dane’s a grown man. He knew what he was doing when he left the mainland, and he knows what he’s doing here. No one can change that, except him. Tutu doesn’t give others enough credit to make their own decisions.”

  Ophelia reached for a napkin from the stack in the middle of the table. She wiped her fingers with it before placing it next to her plate. “Is that why you were sneaking in tonight? She doesn’t trust you?”

  “It’s more complicated than that. Tutu has been responsible for me for years. And she had good reason to worry for a long time. But things are different now. I’m different. And she hasn’t been able to see that.”

  “She seems like a woman who could be pretty stubborn....” Ophelia thought about her own mother’s rigid standards and dropped her eyes to toy with the remains of her rice, pushing the grains into a tidy pile in the corner of her plate. “But I’m sure she loves you. She seems like someone who would love fiercely.”

  When she looked back up, Leilani nodded. “She is! She’s been there for me through a lot. I just wish she’d give me some credit for how much I’ve changed.”

  Ophelia tried redirecting the subject. “Who was it that brought you home tonight, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  Leilani’s eyes sparkled at this question. “My boyfriend, Sam. We’ve been seeing each other for three months now. Dane’s even been giving him odd jobs around the plantation. I think it kinda drives Tutu crazy, having him around so much.” Leilani giggled at this.

  “So do you have a boyfriend?” she asked.

  Ophelia started at this unexpected question.

  “Um...”

  “You’re not wearing a wedding ring.” Leilani pointed out the obvious.

  “No. I, er, recently got out of a long-term relationship.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  But even as she said the words, Ophelia noticed the younger girl smiling.

  She raised her glass of water. “Then here’s to your week of island adventures.”

  Ophelia thought it a strange toast, but she clinked her glass next to Leilani’s and then took a sip.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Leilani said. “It will be good for Dane.”

  Ophelia couldn’t be sure what Leilani meant by that and decided perhaps it was safer not to ask.

  * * *

  DANE WAITED RATHER anxiously for Ophelia Reid to appear in the inn’s dining room the following morning. Keahi filled a large plate with stacks of golden macadamia nut waffles slathered in coconut syrup while Pele listened to Leilani chattering about her time kayaking at Kealakekua Bay the day before. Dane sipped from his coffee and made occasional attempts to read the newspaper, but with each slight noise, he would glance up, expecting to see Ophelia enter the room.

  He attributed this edginess to Ms. Reid’s agenda—the last thing he wished to deal with was a pushy recruiter making the same offers he’d heard dozens of times in the past three years. But deep down, he had the uneasy feeling that Ophelia’s proposal wasn’t the only reason his gaze kept wandering to the dining room doorway.

  He was sending just such a glance toward the entry when she fi
nally appeared. The sight of her caused a tingling of interest along his nerves, but he forced himself to greet her casually with an offhand, “Good morning.”

  He noted with a frown that she was not much more suitably dressed than the day before. Her pale green button-down shirt and knee-length black skirt flattered her figure immensely but reinforced the impression of her professional image. Dane didn’t much like the reminder, even if he did admire the long length of her calves as she crossed the room.

  He forced himself to look away, returning to his papers, though he couldn’t find where he’d left off in the article he’d been reading. He finally placed the page aside and looked up, catching Ophelia’s eye. She offered a friendly smile, which ignited a warmth in his stomach. He found it a difficult endeavor to tear his gaze away from her.

  “Are those waffles?” she questioned as she pulled out a chair.

  “Macadamia nut,” Keahi offered around a mouthful of food. He shoved the platter her way before introducing himself. “I’m Keahi, the boss’s right-hand man.” He stood and reached across the table to offer the hand he had just mentioned.

  She took it before seating herself across from Leilani and to Dane’s right. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Ophelia.”

  “Keahi is my plantation manager,” Dane felt the need to elaborate.

  “Would you like some sausage?” Leilani extended the plate.

  Ophelia nodded and took a link. “Everything looks delicious, Pele.”

  Pele didn’t utter a sound of acknowledgment but moved around the table to begin mounding several spoonfuls of fresh fruit onto Ophelia’s plate.

  “Tutu loves to cook. It’s part of her nurturing spirit,” Leilani informed.

  Dane cocked his head in curiosity. “Ophelia, you haven’t met Leilani yet, have you?”

  Both girls flushed with what looked like guilt to him. He studied them more closely.

  “Have you?” he pressed.

  “Of course not,” Ophelia spoke up and then reached across the table to extend her hand. “Leilani, you must be in charge of reception and bookings. You probably spoke to my assistant, Holly, on the phone on Friday.”

  “Miss Reid, of course.”

  “Please, call me Ophelia.”

  They looked way too conspiratorial for two people who had just met. He glanced at Pele, but she was busy pouring Ophelia a glass of juice and didn’t notice the exchange. And then, as one, the two younger women turned to look at him. He had the strangest feeling of being left out of something, and he didn’t much like it. When he gave no reaction, they turned back to each other.

  “And what are your plans for your stay, Ophelia? I believe your assistant said you were on a business trip?” Leilani questioned.

  “Yes, I’m actually here to present your boss with an offer to return to the mainland. As the Creative Marketing Director of Towers Resorts International.”

  “Towers Resorts? Aren’t they opening a resort in Waikiki?” Keahi questioned.

  Ophelia nodded in acknowledgment. “Yes, among a few others. It’s part of an ongoing expansion project. However, Bianca Towers, who inherited the company following her uncle’s death, is striving for a new image, and she’d like your boss to lead the way for her.”

  “He’s retired,” Pele flatly informed.

  Dane said nothing and waited for Ophelia’s response.

  “I understand, but your boss was the best the business world has seen in terms of innovation and success in the advertising and marketing field. It’s why he still receives offers, even three years into his retirement.”

  She slid a glance his way, but he refused to react to this praise. He had heard the same drivel spouted endlessly for years—it failed to penetrate anymore. He was proud of his previous successes, but he felt driven by his newest challenge—cultivating coffee. Ophelia spoke of his old life, and he was only interested in the new.

  Leilani, however, looked at him with a curious gaze. “Is that true? Were you really as good as she says?”

  He reached for his coffee. “Headhunters exaggerate.”

  “Recruiters,” Ophelia corrected, and he felt gratified by the way her jaw tightened on the word, “focus on potential.”

  “Well, my potential has been refocused. Here. To this plantation.”

  She met his gaze with a determined one of her own. “Perhaps you’d like to hear the terms of the proposal before you dismiss it out of hand?”

  “After breakfast,” Dane relented, knowing he’d have to at least look at the offer. She wouldn’t give up until he did, and they might as well get the formalities out of the way so he could focus on running his plantation. “Deal,” Ophelia declared, the one word causing him to cringe as if it indicated he’d agreed to the contract.

  Ophelia must have noticed his reaction because she frowned. “My suite is beautiful,” she said, as if this one compliment could make up for her being here.

  “Ms. Reid—”

  “Ophelia,” she again corrected.

  “Ophelia,” he repeated with a nod in her direction, “is staying in the Liliuokalani suite.”

  “Without a husband,” Pele tacked on as she settled into her own seat.

  “I believe Lili-uo-kalani,” Ophelia pronounced the name with care, “was a forward-thinking lady, was she not? Surely she would approve of a single woman renting a suite that bears her name.”

  Pele clucked her tongue. “What do you know of Liliuokalani?”

  Ophelia’s grin seemed slightly smug, Dane thought. “I know she reigned as Hawaii’s last sovereign before the monarchy was overthrown around the turn of the previous century. She became queen following her brother’s death. David Kalakaua—am I saying that right?—who had named her his successor when he had no children to inherit the throne. A terrible injustice, the way she was imprisoned in Iolani Palace for a year and then later forced to abdicate. It is a fitting name for such a lovely suite, by the way.”

  Dane stared at Ophelia following this unexpected flow of information. His gaze shifted to find Pele’s eyes narrowed to slits but then she gave a nod of approval. “You should eat more. You’re too skinny.”

  Pele moved to pile another stack of waffles onto Ophelia’s plate. She nudged the syrup within easy reach. Dane eyed Ophelia again until she glanced his way, and then he arched his eyebrow in question at her newfound knowledge.

  “I looked it up,” she confessed as she unfolded her napkin and smoothed it across her lap. “Your free Wi-Fi amenity is quite good here.”

  He found himself fascinated by her confident demeanor, and the way she licked her lips before cutting into a section of waffle. The movements held him mesmerized, the length of her fingers, the curve of her wrist...until Keahi cleared his throat, and Dane shook himself back to awareness.

  Ophelia didn’t seem to notice his distraction. “I only managed a brief glance at the property on my way in yesterday. Tell me more about the coffee plantation.”

  Dane hesitated, uncertain why a recruiting headhunter wished to know about his life here unless she planned to use it in her arguments somehow. The air around the table grew thick with tension as he waited, studying Ophelia’s face. She remained turned toward him, her expression open and genuinely curious. He could feel the rest of his staff waiting for him to respond.

  “There are fifteen acres, and about 2,500 coffee trees. We also have an orchard with mangoes, papayas, bananas and coconuts. Most of the fruit you’re served here at the inn is harvested from the plantation. We sit at an elevation of 1,200 feet above Kealakekua Bay, but we’re a short drive to some of the best attractions you’ll find anywhere, including snorkeling, swimming, historic spots, shopping and tours.”

  “Yes, your brochure was most impressive,” she noted, and Dane frowned, realizing he had repeated most of what was already in their literat
ure.

  “So, why coffee?” Ophelia questioned as she speared a bite of sausage. “Why Hawaii?”

  “Why not?” he countered. “Coffee is one of the world’s most sought-after commodities, and Hawaii is paradise.”

  “But don’t you ever miss the city?” she pressed.

  He leveled his gaze on her. “The concrete, the press of people, the exhaust fumes?”

  “The accessibility, the high-rises, the adrenaline?”

  “Didn’t we agree we’d negotiate after breakfast?”

  To his consternation, he felt that same warmth spreading through his stomach as Ophelia Reid grinned brightly at him and didn’t say another word.

  CHAPTER THREE

  AFTER FINISHING HER proposal outlining the generous offer from Towers Resorts International, Ophelia was gratified to witness a slight break in Dane’s composure. He leaned back in his chair on the lanai and eyed her carefully.

  “Those are some impressively decadent figures. Color me flattered. But I have to disagree on my worth—my skills hardly do such a number justice.”

  “Bianca Towers would disagree. She feels you’re worth every penny of that price.”

  “Ms. Towers is a spoiled brat, from what I’ve read,” Dane commented.

  “Ms. Towers is quite concerned with the future image of Towers Resorts International. Her uncle’s passing and her subsequent inheritance of the company have created a media furor.”

  “I noticed,” Dane dryly remarked. “Those photos of her, passed out drunk in the back of that rock star’s limo, were really in poor taste, even for the paparazzi.”

  “Mmm, exactly. She needs a solid team behind her, to reestablish her company as a worldwide mecca of luxury and refinement.”

  “And Ms. Towers feels she needs me to accomplish this?”

  Ophelia leaned forward in her own seat and cocked her head. “Come now, Dane, don’t be modest. How many companies was it that you turned around during your time in the corporate spotlight?”

  He scowled at her, but she would not be deterred.