days it was a rarity, but that didn’t mean there was something wrong with it. “Maybe she’s mastered the fine art of living under the radar. It’s a highly underrated skill these days. Not everyone feels the need to broadcast their every thought and feeling into cyberspace. I don’t.”
“I was able to get a little information on her deceased grandfather,” Chuck added. “Apparently, he was a former military man that went into real estate development after World War II. He’s credited with starting the tract house boom of the 1950s, creating affordable housing for returning soldiers to start families. That, along with the population growth in California at the time, made him a fortune.”
That was interesting. His shy flower was an heiress to quite a large chunk of money. She certainly didn’t act like one. “So her grandfather invented cookie-cutter suburbia? That’s quite an accomplishment.” Mano straightened his suit coat. “Anything else?”
“I did ask Wendy about her. She handled her check-in.”
That caught Mano’s attention. “And?”
“She said Miss Edwards was very willowy, tall and thin. She was pale with an unremarkable face.”
That was an odd way to describe her. “Unremarkable? Is that good or bad?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
Mano sighed. People with eyes simply didn’t use them the way they should. If he had his sight back, he would study every detail the way he did now with his hands. He’d talked to multiple staff members, and none of them could tell him what Paige looked like. It was as though she was a ghost that only he could sense. “What time is it?”
“Almost six.”
“I’d better get going then.” Mano made his way through the suite. He counted his steps, knowing his path through the rooms to the front door like the back of his hand. At the door, he whistled for Hōkū and waited for the sound of clicking toenails across the marble floor to come closer. He put on the dog’s service harness and gave him a good scratch behind the ears. “Thanks for the information, Chuck.”
“Sure thing. Have a nice dinner,” he added with a teasing tone that Mano ignored.
Chuck disappeared into the elevator as Mano rang the doorbell and waited for Paige to answer. It took her a moment, probably because she was wearing heels. He heard the slow, unsteady steps approaching the door. She must not be used to wearing dressy shoes.
The door swung open and he was greeted with the scent of the hotel’s coconut soap, a touch of Chanel No. 5 and the underlying hint of hand sanitizer he’d come to associate with Paige. His muscles tightened as he drew her into his lungs, making him more eager than he should’ve been to spend the evening with one of his hotel guests.
“I’m ready,” she said, almost breathless.
He took a step back, then offered his arm to escort her over to the elevator. Mano noticed she leaned a bit more on him than he expected. Definitely the heels. It couldn’t possibly be that she wanted to huddle close to a blind man, could it? The tightened muscles throughout his whole body hoped so.
“Does Hōkū get to join us for dinner?” she asked as they made their way to the restaurant.
“Yes. Hōkū goes everywhere. Even before I lost my eyesight, it was the policy of the hotel to welcome all service animals throughout the site. This close to the military base, we’ve hosted a lot of former military over the years with PTSD and injuries that require assistance. Everyone here knows Hōkū, anyway. The chef is known to make him his own treat to enjoy under the table while we dine.”
“I guess that’s not a bad job to have. He’s like the hotel mascot.”
Mano chuckled. “I suppose he kind of is.” The doors to the elevator opened and he led her down the path to The Pearl. The restaurant wasn’t original to the hotel, but Mano had added it not long after he took over the resort from his grandparents. The hotel was famous in its own right for being the oldest and most authentic resort on Waikiki, but he’d wanted to add something to put it over the top. It had taken him weeks to interview executive chefs and discuss menu plans to complete his vision, but within a few years, they’d earned a Michelin star. Even people who couldn’t stay at the hotel went out of their way for reservations at The Pearl for dinner, especially on Saturday nights.
Hōkū slowed ahead of him and Mano knew they were getting close to the restaurant.
“Good evening, Mr. Bishop,” the hostess said as the outer doors swung open and the cool blast of air-conditioning hit them. They stepped inside, waiting to be escorted to their table. “Right this way.”
“This restaurant is beautiful,” Paige said as they wandered back toward his reserved table. “That fish tank is amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a salt water tank that large outside of an aquarium.”
Mano had always enjoyed snorkeling as a teenager. When they opened this restaurant, he wanted the centerpiece of the dining area to be a saltwater tank that showcased the beauty under the surface of the ocean just beyond the hotel. “It’s a custom designed tank,” he said. “It had to be built inside the restaurant otherwise there was no way to get it through the doors. It has over twenty different species of tropical fish, anemones and sea urchins. There’s even a small nurse shark. None of which are on the menu,” he said with a smile. “That would be a little creepy.”
“Here’s your table. Your server will be right with you both. Enjoy.”
Mano gestured for Paige to take a seat to the left of the curved booth and he sat to the right. Hōkū found a spot beneath the table and curled up, resting his head on the top of Mano’s shoe.
“Do you like seafood?” he asked. “I guess I should’ve asked that this morning when we made plans.”
“I do. I’m trying to avoid the fish that’s higher in mercury and anything raw, but I’ve been known to eat my weight in shrimp when the opportunity arises.”
“That means the ahi tuna is out, sadly, but if you like coconut, we have an amazing coconut shrimp here. It’s served with a spicy pineapple marmalade.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
Mano ran his fingers over the custom braille menu to see what tonight’s fresh catch was. The specials changed depending on what was available each morning at the Honolulu fish auction. He was pleased to find smoked Hawaiian swordfish poached in duck fat with roasted purple sweet potatoes. That was one of his favorites.
“Everything here sounds delicious,” Paige said.
“It is. But save room for dessert or you’ll regret it.”
The server came a moment later, taking their orders. Paige had taken his recommendation of the coconut shrimp with passion fruit rice pilaf. She turned down his suggestion of a mai tai, though, opting instead for a sparkling water. With that done, they handed away their menus and he was finally able to focus on figuring out his newest guest.
“So, Paige, tell me what it is that brought you to Oahu so unexpectedly, and alone?”
“I suppose that isn’t normal, especially considering I’m staying in a suite that could sleep a dozen people. I’m
