Page 26 of True Abandon

KAUAI, HAWAII

chapter FIVE

“Thank you for visiting the Kauai Princess. I hope you enjoyed your stay.”

“Trish, you have made this a magical honeymoon. Thank you for everything,” the newly branded Mrs. Fitzgerald says as she slides into the back seat of the limo I booked to take her, and her husband, to Lihue Airport.

She adjusts the skirt of her skintight, white day-dress as I close the door.

Mr. Fitzgerald taps me on the shoulder, summoning me to turn around.

“This is a little something for you,” he says, handing me an envelope which I push back his way.

“No, please. The concierge service was already billed to your card. I couldn’t accept anything extra,” I say, which is a lie. I’m allowed to accept tips, but I feel so awkward taking cash when I already receive a paycheck from the hotel.

He places the envelope in my hand, then walks around the back of the car and gets into the limo.

I wave off the lovely couple who I had the privilege of entertaining this week.

When the car is up the long driveway, lined with pink oleander and bright-red lehua blossoms, I thumb open the envelope and look inside to see five hundred bucks. I shouldn’t be surprised. Over the past seven months of working as a Personal Concierge at the Kauai Princess in Hawaii, I’ve made more money than I did at any other job in New York City. Between my salary, and the cash tips the guests give as they depart, I can’t believe I didn’t go into the hotel and entertainment business sooner.

I head through the large glass doors of the hotel and into the main lobby. My Dr. Martens sandals don’t make a sound as I walk onto the cream-colored marble.

Four large columns outline the room, and in the center, is a gorgeous koi pond with a trickling water fountain. Large, palm-leafed plants grow from the sides accented with the beautiful fragrance of Polynesian foliage.

I look up into the glass dome ceiling and the bright blue Hawaiian sky.

Today is a good day.

The evening check-in rush is in effect as most flights from the East Coast get in around this time.

My friend and colleague, Lani, is behind the check-in counter. I give her a wave as I walk past.

Her silky, black hair is tied in a low ponytail, and she’s wearing her pink button down with a navy-blue blazer. It’s the Kauai Princess uniform. One I, as the hotel’s personal concierge, do not have to wear.

The Kauai Princess has two Presidential rooms—the Maui and the Pele suites—that both come with the personal concierge service. For a minor fee of three thousand dollars a night, guests get an elite suite with fourteen hundred square feet of luxury including a two king size bedrooms, marble bathrooms, a lanai looking onto the Pacific Ocean, and twenty-four hours of me.

For the duration of the guests’ stay, I am at their beckon call. If they want an in-room massage, I have a masseuse there in fifteen minutes.

Want a bathtub filled with chocolate syrup? It’s messy, but I can do it.

Charter a plane to take you to the big island for a surf lesson? No problem.

I’ll even help you secure a bag of weed, although that’s not in my job description.

While there is nothing I can’t do, there are a few things I won’t do, like get a hooker. Luckily, the clientele has enough money they usually come with their own women. Whether it’s partygoers, celebrity entourages, or honeymooners, one thing is for sure: I get worked to the bone. These people pay a lot of money, and they expect to get every penny’s worth.

I dip around the reception counter and through a door that leads to a back room where we keep hotel files for upcoming guests, a break room, and lockers for the workers. I walk over to mine and place my tip envelope inside.

When I took the job last year, it was on a whim. After seeing Jackson for the first time in years, I started to question everything: where I was living, working, dating. I may have had a little bit of a nervous breakdown, but I quit everything—from my lease to my job, and my relationship with Kevin—to move across the continental United States to the island of Kauai.

It may seem a bit brash to some, but I couldn’t stand to be in the city any longer. It’s like Jax came and tarnished everything about it. Kelli gave me the opportunity to run, so I bolted.

Turns out, my former boss, Alexander Asher, has a small stake in the hotel. I did a little name-dropping in my interview, embellished the closeness of our relationship—made it seem as though I was more of his personal assistant than one for the entire office—and was hired the next day. Kelli works at a salon in another hotel on the island. If she saw the tips I got, she’d fume with jealousy.

I close my locker door and then check my appearance in the break room mirror. My bright-red hair is tied neatly in a fishtail braid, and I’m wearing a beige, linen jumper, that is now slightly wrinkled around the waist from sitting earlier, with a white t-shirt underneath. The clasp on my necklace is in the front under the charm, so I adjust it to the back, and then place the charm to rest neatly on my chest.

I don’t wear a lot of makeup, which works out great in Hawaii. Despite my daily sousing of sunblock, my skin is still lightly tanned with a healthy glow. All I need is some mascara to accentuate my pale lashes, and I’m good to go.