Aloha With Love Read online

  “He’s working late.” Jenna’s lips curled at the bitter taste of the words. It would have been nice to spend the evening with her boyfriend, whether they talked about the deal or not. Or would it? Knowing Darren, the deal would probably be all he wanted to talk about, and Jenna needed a break from the topic before she drove herself crazy. It wasn’t like he was going to be interested in talking about anything more material to their relationship, like their actual relationship.

  “On date night?” Patti pressed.

  Jenna shrugged. “He’s very ambitious?” She didn’t love the way her explanation ended in a question. It was decidedly un-sunny, and although Barrington had made it sound like a criticism, Jenna rather liked being sunny. In her experience, sunny places were the warmest ones.

  Patti’s eyebrow rose toward the ceiling. “Then you two are perfect for each other.”

  “I suppose.”

  As much as Jenna appreciated having a boss so supportive and accommodating on work-life balance, she didn’t feel comfortable sharing more about how she and Darren weren’t exactly working toward the same end goal. Come to think of it, she wasn’t even sure she was comfortable admitting the truth to herself.

  That’s probably not a good sign, she thought.

  Fortunately, Patti’s sensible intuition extended beyond her architectural savvy. She paused for a moment and, stepping farther into Jenna’s office, extended the closest thing to motherly advice Jenna thought the hard-nosed businesswoman capable of.

  “Sleep in tomorrow, boss’s orders. Take some time in the morning to enjoy an extra cup of coffee. If anything comes up here, I’ll call you.”

  Jenna managed a weak smile. “Thanks.”

  Patti waved Jenna’s words away and shot a look over her shoulder as she strode out the office door. “This isn’t about boys, it’s about performance. You hit it out of the park today—” Patti paused to let them both enjoy her own sports reference. “You’ve earned it.”

  Alone again in her office, Jenna stared at her model of Terrace Pines and reflected on her day, trying to see it from Patti’s point of view. All things considered, the meeting with Barrington had gone better than anticipated—not perfect, sure, but not terrible, either. He’d been pleased with the extra units and the catering plan, but less than enthusiastic about the estimated construction costs coming only five percent below target. Patti was right—creativity was often stymied by the dollar because no matter how much investors talked about wanting something new and innovative, when it came down to brass tacks, money still mattered most. Real estate investors wanted buildings that would last, but they didn’t generally relish the idea of waiting longer than necessary to make a return. What a funny and frustrating dance—build for the long haul, invest for the short. Things like sustainable building and green living sounded great on marketing materials, but often lost their luster on the balance sheet.

  Had she done enough? Jenna’s career might depend on this project—and on Darren Taylor and Orville Barrington, two unknown variables. Right now, she could only hope she’d wowed them all with her design and research. Otherwise, she didn’t know if she had enough curb appeal to bolster her future in architectural design, much less pull off a passion project like Terrace Pines.

  Well, she’d done her best. All she could do now was wait and see. And, Jenna considered, gazing at the framed photo of her and Darren on her desk, at least you don’t have a wedding to plan.

  Chapter Four

  By the time she arrived in her office two hours later than usual the next morning, Jenna had managed to work her way through just about every emotion she had. It had a been a long night, but she had pulled many all-nighters in her brief career already. Losing another few hours of sleep worrying herself half to death over the state of Terrace Pines was nothing out of the ordinary.

  Despite her fruitless attempts to see things Patti’s way, Jenna had left her office the day before weary and deflated, wallowing in worst-case-scenario blues until around dinnertime, after which she’d gotten a second wind and started reflecting on the day more positively. A late yoga session and warm bubble bath later, Jenna had climbed into bed, already working her way back up from rock bottom. She had done pretty well, all things considered, and she’d poured her heart into the Terrace Pines concept. Barrington’s wealthy backers might be rich, but they would be downright silly if they turned down her pitch.

  Her model had been spot-on and her delivery flawless, even if she had mixed up her silly sports terms. At the end, it was simple: there wasn’t another architect in town who could offer the same level of style and function of her design—not at five percent below target and not with the details she’d put so much care into.

  And, she’d decided, being sunny was definitely a good thing. And a community garden beat out ten additional units any day.

  Darren hadn’t called, and Jenna hadn’t texted. He was going to have a lot of work to do if he was going to make up for missing their date night and blowing her off after the biggest pitch of her career so far.

  A bouquet of flowers isn’t going to cut it this time, Jenna thought as she breezed past her office and the vase full of apology roses already waiting on her desk. Just to put a little extra pep in her step, she’d even worn her favorite heels to work this morning—bright bubblegum pink pumps that gave her an extra half-inch of height and clicked when she walked on the office’s ceramic tile floors. Sunny.

  In the small break room, Jenna poured two cups of coffee, added a splash of milk to one, and clicked her way to Patti’s office. “Any news?”

  The needle-sharp expression on Patti’s face popped Jenna’s bubble. “Barrington called. They’re going with a proposal from Ken Johnson Architects.”

  Black liquid slipped over the edge of the coffee mugs, scalding Jenna’s hands. It could have been her nerves or the lack of sleep catching up with her, but spilled coffee was spilled coffee—hot. After safely setting down the mugs, Jenna mopped up the mess with a tissue from the box on Patti’s desk and collapsed into one of the two guest chairs in the room. “But we gave them everything he wanted and more, and still came in under budget.”

  Patti shrugged and lifted the cup of coffee sans milk. She always said she liked her coffee black, just like she liked the numbers in her bank account. “Johnson’s firm convinced him they can come in ten percent under budget. Ten is more than five.”

  “Money,” grumbled Jenna. She’d known it. She could offer Barrington’s investors every bell and whistle, give them every buzzword in today’s real estate marketing vocabulary, but in the end it all boiled down to who could offer the best build with the biggest discount.

  “Almighty dollar,” Patti corrected. “Creativity stymie, pitch breaker.”

  Jenna still couldn’t wrap her head around it. “So, that’s it? They can do it cheaper, so they get the account?”

  “That’s what he said.”

  Visions of the Terrace Pines model still on her desk haunted Jenna’s thoughts. “I really thought I checked all Barrington’s boxes, Patti.”

  “Sometimes the boxes we don’t see are the ones that need to be checked the most.”

  Jenna reached for her own mug and chugged down a larger-than-ladylike gulp, trying not to feel like a failure. “What amenities do they offer? Do they have a rentable party space to create revenue? Is their concept energy efficient, like ours? Will the extra five percent investors save now offset the tens of thousands of dollars of savings our design promises down the road?” Her voice rose, grew nasal. “Did they replace their useless shrubbery with kou trees and hibiscus?”

  Patti leaned across the desk, elbows on the table, and set her chin on top of her hands. She gave Jenna a moment to catch her breath, and then spoke slowly, her tone firm but kind. “I don’t know anything about their model, and it really doesn’t matter. Barrington’s investors are simply too shortsighted to see past upfront costs.”

  Jenna squirmed, and Patti continued, rising and walking toward th
e other side of her office. She stood framed by the dozens of certificates of accomplishments lined on the wall behind her. This posture wasn’t accidental; Patti was positioning herself right where she needed to be to deliver an important business lesson supported by her wall of credibility.

  “Jenna, you did a fantastic job with the Terrace Pines model. This is just how it is. You can do everything right and still not win the bid. There’ll be other opportunities. Sometimes losing a job is the best possible outcome. Let it go. Besides, just because Barrington’s people rejected the concept, what you built for Terrace Pines still has legs. The right investors will come along.”

  Her milked-down coffee tasted sour on her tongue, and it was all Jenna could do not to sigh as she pushed herself up from the chair. Finding another investor interested in the Terrace Pines project was not impossible, but it was also not guaranteed. No wonder Darren hadn’t called. “I was so confident.”

  Back at her desk, Jenna slumped in her chair and glared at the model of Terrace Pines. Patti was right, of course. If getting the most bang for their buck was Barrington’s investors prime directive, she could have whittled costs down to the bones, been dissatisfied with her own work, and still have lost the deal. But surely there was something else she could have done to earn their buy-in while still delivering her dream concept? Maybe she should have cut the garden and put in a few more units? Or added more single bedroom units, rather than two and three-bedrooms? Cut out the tropical flora and left in the boring old shrubs?

  Perhaps it had been naïve to think she could design a luxury condominium community attractive enough to appeal to long-term residents. If the National Association of Home Builders said condo residents stayed six years or less, who was she to challenge them? Jenna hadn’t even lived in her current apartment for three. Of course, she’d assumed she and Darren would have moved in together by year four of their relationship, but that didn’t appear to be happening anytime soon—not unless she wanted to embrace the idea of his and hers office spaces.

  Not likely.

  Jenna’s laptop chimed, signaling an incoming video call and pushing her out of her meditative funk. A photo of the caller flashed on her screen—silver hair and crimson dress—and Jenna’s worries instantly dissipated.

  “Aunt May.”

  She clicked the button to accept, and Aunt May’s face filled the screen. Behind her, palm trees and ocean waves dazzled in the sunny Hawaiian landscape from her wicker rocking chair on the porch of her retirement community. May looked a little more tired than she had at her online birthday bash the past weekend, and perhaps a hair older, but still every bit as exuberant.

  “Aloha, Peanut. How did the pitch go?”

  Jenna sighed. Sharing the bad news with her aunt was three times worse than experiencing it herself, even if May was the only one who could have possibly made her feel better. “I crashed and burned. The client passed for a cheaper pitch.”

  The old woman smiled, and the wrinkles around her eyes cracked so her eyes sparkled in the late afternoon sun. “You don’t look burned to me. You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you, Aunt May.”

  “I know how hard you worked on this. I know how much it means to you.”

  “I spent so much time on it. Really thought I’d nailed it...” Jenna dropped her face into her hands. “I even missed your special birthday. And for what? It was all over in five minutes. I should have flown down to be with you.”

  Aunt May waved away her apologies from the other side of the screen. “Chin up, young lady. Did you love how your design turned out?”

  Jenna stared at the model on her desk. Was it failure that made it look so much less appealing now than it had just twenty-four hours before, or was her design just terrible? “I thought I did, but now I don’t know what to think.”

  “You keep doing what you love, and success will follow. I promise. A’a i ka hula, waiho i ka maka’u i ka hale.”

  Put on your dancing shoes and leave shame at home. The Hawaiian proverb encouraged one to take pride in themselves, regardless of what others thought. It was Aunt May’s way of reminding her not to see the value of her work through anyone’s eyes but her own.

  It sounded so easy when her aunt said it, though Jenna wasn’t so sure. “But—”

  “No buts allowed,” Aunt May cut in. “All buts do is keep you down in the dumps. Yes, ands are what keep you going.”

  Jenna felt her mouth curve into a smile in spite of her pessimistic mood. “Some island wisdom from the Queen of Maui?”

  The old woman nodded, laughing. “E hele me ka pu’olo.”

  “What’s that one? My Hawaiian’s rusty.”

  Aunt May snickered. “Come home more often and it wouldn’t be,” she teased. “We miss you, Peanut. Me, your dad, even your sister. You need a good dose of the best medicine the island has to offer—sunshine, saltwater, and enough room to breathe some fresh life into your lungs.”

  Jenna’s smile deepened, turned genuine. “I’ll come for a visit—and soon, I promise. I love you.”

  On screen, Aunt May brandished a mischievous grin. She winked and leaned in closer to the screen. “I got a bunch of oldsters waiting for me to play bingo, and I love taking their bingo bucks from them. Aloha wau iā 'oe, Peanut.”

  With a goodbye wave, Jenna pressed the button to end the call just as her phone buzzed, signaling an incoming text message.

  Lunch? It was from Darren.

  She thought about ignoring it but changed her mind. Sure.

  Chapter Five

  The decision to break away for lunch with Darren had been difficult, but so was the prospect of sitting in her office, staring at her failed concept for Terrace Pines. If Jenna was going to choose between the two methods of torture, at least she could opt for the one outside. Aunt May hadn’t been wrong about the rejuvenating qualities of the outdoors. What was the saying—fresh air clears the mind and refreshes the soul?

  Summers in LA ran hotter than they did in Hawaii. Darren was already waiting at a two-person outside table at the busy hillside eatery when Jenna slid into the chair across from him, fanning herself cool.

  The new goatee might suit his face after all, she decided. It tickled her skin when Darren leaned across the table and pecked her cheek. “I’m glad we’re getting lunch. I need someone to talk to today.”

  Darren’s face shifted. “You didn’t get the job.”

  His deadpan delivery told Jenna it hadn’t been a guess. “I take it you heard the news.”

  “Barrington’s going with another architect. Ken Johnson’s firm was able to offer a better bottom line. I’m sorry, Jenna.”

  Well, great news travels fast. Of course, if Patti already knew about Barrington’s decision, naturally Darren would, too. A dark cloud descended over the sunny afternoon as Jenna considered Darren’s position in the deal. Hopefully her loss hadn’t cost him his commission, too. “Are you going to be okay?”

  Across the table, Darren stiffened. “I guess I’ll have to be. He’s also decided to go with another realtor.”

  There was something else written between the lines of Darren’s statement, something he didn’t say but she heard just the same: and it’s your fault. He had been the one who had recommended her, after all.

  Jenna tore at a piece of the complimentary bread the waitress had dropped off. Carbs were the gateway drug to self-loathing and bloat, but right now she needed a little bit of comfort food in her life. “Lunch together will cheer us up,” she tried, hunting for the silver lining. “It’s been a long time since we’ve been able to fit a spontaneous lunch into our busy daytime schedules.”

  There, something she didn’t say either—lunch was a perfect time to meet with anxious real estate clients. Darren probably needed those, considering her blunder had cost him Barrington. She’d expected him to agree, but instead Darren sat back in his chair, his body language hard.

  “Right?” Jenna pushed the basket of bread away, already feeling its weight in the
pit of her stomach.

  “I didn’t think about the timing.”

  “Timing of what?”

  Darren sighed and the sound came out rough, like he’d been thinking about something thick and unpleasant. He ran a hand through his hair and this time he did it rough enough to upset his carefully combed locks. “Here’s the thing...”

  Jenna’s heart flipped in her chest. She could feel the bread rising back up from her stomach. “What thing?”

  “I’m getting to it.”

  “To what?”

  Darren sighed again, crossed his arms. “You’re not making this any easier.”

  “What?” Jenna asked, but she had a bad feeling she already knew. In her experience, it was never a good sign when a guy started being vague about important topics. Talking in circles around the subject before getting to the point was distancing behavior, the kind of tactic people used when they’d already disconnected themselves emotionally from the subject at hand and just needed to get the words out to finish the deal. “What ‘this’ am I not making any easier?”

  “You see, I’ve been thinking...”

  Jenna raised an eyebrow. “About?”

  Darren cleared his throat, waiting as the waitress delivered their orders before continuing. Jenna had ordered her usual salad and avocado toast, though she was really more in the mood for a sandwich. Darren had opted for the daily special. Cake sounded better than either. Jenna made a mental note to pop by a bakery on her way back to the office.

  “About us. We’re both very much dedicated to our careers—”

  “And to each other,” Jenna inserted hopefully, but Darren’s reaction told her it was the wrong move. Nothing said foot in mouth like a wince.

  Darren spread his hands out in front of him as if hunting for the right words. His tongue flicked out, ran along the edge of his teeth.