She handed him the sunscreen and turned her back to him. And then she gasped and walked toward the window.
“What is it?” He dropped the sunscreen on the bed and followed her.
“This view. Holy shit.” She stared outside at the golden beach, bright blue water, and choppy white waves, then turned back around to him. “Why do you still have pants on? Let’s go!”
But Olivia didn’t let him stop at the lounge chairs by the pool. Instead, they went straight to the beach. She dropped her beach bag in the sand, and they ran into the water holding hands. They both recoiled at the impact of the freezing cold Pacific Ocean, then grinned at each other and went in deeper.
“You’re right,” Olivia said to him, once they’d both treaded water in silence for a few minutes. “Hawaii is perfect.”
He leaned forward and kissed her. She tasted like salt water and lip balm and happiness.
“Now Hawaii is perfect,” he said.
Later that afternoon, Olivia pushed back her wide-brimmed straw hat and smiled up at the sky, and at Max, in the lounge chair next to hers. She’d been more stressed about this last-minute vacation than she’d let on to Max. She’d had to get a ton of work done, bring Ellie up to speed on her clients in case she had to cover something while Olivia was gone, and find a swimsuit that not only fit her boobs and ass, but one that actually looked good on her, and all in less than a week. But it had all been worth it. The sun felt so good on her skin. She’d spent so much time this year inside her office building or her house—or Max’s house—she’d barely taken advantage of the L.A. weather. She hadn’t even been to the beach since she’d moved back! Sure, the beach was all the way on the Westside, but that was still closer than Hawaii. She made a pledge to herself to get to the beach more often.
She kept her sunglasses on as she looked around the pool; after the past few weeks in L.A., she constantly felt like she was being watched, which was only partly paranoia, after that one really bad week. She still felt smug about one of the paparazzi pictures, though—someone had taken it as she’d walked toward her gym, brand-new athleisure on and yoga mat in hand. She’d looked sporty and friendly, and like she had no idea anyone was taking her picture. As soon as she walked into the gym, the employees had smuggled her out the back door. When that picture had popped up online, she cheered.
Luckily, everyone—including photographers—had seemed to lose interest in her and Max, so she’d begun to let her guard down. Plus, already this morning she’d seen two people far more famous than Max here at the resort. If they trusted this place, she would, too. Oh wow, and there was a third, over there stepping out of a cabana. Now she could definitely relax. And speaking of relaxation . . .
She turned to Max.
“Do you see those people over there? They have a drink inside a pineapple—how do we get one of those? No, two of those.”
Max grinned at her.
“You’re getting into the Hawaii spirit, I see. Next time one of the waiters walks by, we’ll ask him to bring us one. No, two.”
Ten minutes later, they grinned at each other over their boozy pineapples.
“Cheers to one of the best ideas I’ve ever had,” Max said as he touched his pineapple to hers.
Olivia wanted to roll her eyes at him, but she was too relaxed.
“Cheers,” she said, and took a sip of . . . oh wow, that was a strong pineapple drink.
“I’m going to be drunk within the hour,” Max said as he put down his pineapple.
“I think I’m already drunk,” she said. And then she took another sip.
Max glanced down at his phone. Even though it was a Friday during recess, he still seemed to get an email about every minute. They’d both spent some of this time by the pool working on their phones, but it still felt like vacation.
He turned to her with his eyebrows raised. Oh no, she knew this look.
“You know,” he said, in his most convincing voice. “The last town hall meeting is going to be in L.A., at your community center.”
Olivia picked up her pineapple again.
“Excellent,” she said. “I hope Jamila takes credit for that.”
She took another sip from her pineapple. She probably didn’t want to know how much rum was in this thing, did she? Well, whatever was in it, it was delicious.
“I know how you feel about that center, after all the time you’ve spent there,” Max said. “What would you say to coming with me to the town hall there? Especially since this whole thing was your idea, after all.”
Olivia couldn’t help but smile back at Max.
“With an offer like that, how can I say no?”
Olivia took another sip of her pineapple and smiled at the world. If only every workday could be spent in the sunshine with pineapples full of rum. She’d get very little work done, but she’d be in an excellent mood.
After they finished their pineapples, Max reached for her hand.
“Let’s go take a walk along the beach,” he said. “I’m getting hot.”
“You’ve always been hot,” Olivia said, and giggled.
Max grinned at her.
“I think I like Hawaii Olivia a whole lot. Can we bring her back to California?” He stood up and pulled her up out of the chair.
Olivia pulled on her cover-up.
“Look, I’m still trying to get rid of New York Olivia, okay? But if you can manage to bring me one of these drinks every day, I feel like Hawaii Olivia will just naturally take over.” She slung her beach bag on her shoulder. “She won’t have a job anymore, but she’ll be real cheerful about it.”
They walked down to the beach, hand in hand, and strolled along the water’s edge.
“This was a very good idea on your part,” Olivia said.
Max turned to her, that cocky grin she loved on his face.
“I know,” he said. Then the grin faded and his eyes opened wide. He turned her in the direction he was looking and dropped his voice to a whisper.
“Look!”
A man was on one knee, and the woman in front of him had her hands in front of her face. Slowly, she lowered them, and took his hand. Olivia and Max couldn’t hear what the couple was saying, but everyone on the beach knew exactly what was happening. After a few minutes, the man slid a ring on the woman’s finger and stood up. Everyone around them—including Max—applauded. Olivia joined in.
“Wasn’t that romantic?” Max said, after the couple waved at everyone and walked back up to the hotel.
“It was,” Olivia said.
Max turned to her and smiled. Olivia saw something in his eyes change. He opened his mouth, almost in slow motion. A sudden apprehension hit Olivia.
“You’re not going to propose, are you?” she blurted out.
His face dropped. That crestfallen look made her want to take back what she’d said, but it was too late. Damn that pineapple drink and all this sunlight; she would have done that much better if she hadn’t been this tipsy.
“Would it be so bad if I was?” he asked.
No, it wouldn’t be so bad, but also yes, of course it would be.
Shit, shit, shit, how could she say this to him?
“It wouldn’t be, if now was say . . . a year from now. And if in that year, we’d had even one conversation about getting married—though I’d prefer more like four or five conversations.”