Thomas

We didn't talk much after the trust games and I tried to keep my mind on the case to give us some equilibrium. I wasn't uncomfortable, but I wasn't comfortable either, which meant some of it was getting under my skin. It wasn't Daisy's fault that this particular case was making it hard to stay objective around her. I knew the big push for more sessions would be coming that evening, so we checked out of the hotel in the afternoon, doing it as discreetly as we could. The files I'd grabbed had not only our particulars, but also those of the other couples and several folks dating back a few years as well. Most of the material was depressingly standard: affairs, arrests, and acts of violence mostly. The sort of seedy secrets that everyone eventually deals with. I made copies and sent one packet to the client and another to the police department so they could handle the extortion threats.

Back at the estate, Daisy left to meet up with the Golden Doll people about setting up the commercial shoot, and I decided to paddle out for a while and do some thinking. I had a lot to consider.

One of the nicest parts about living in Hawaii is the ocean. It's a constant in your line of vision and a lot prettier than most of the Navy usually sees. There's a solitude on the water that keeps things humble, too. Me, water, and sky—a good place to lay yourself bare to your thoughts. I suppose psychologists have some term for it—finding inner peace or the like, but I do it because it works for me in a way that conventional therapies don't. On the water, I can confront myself without distractions.

And yeah, all of that sounds very deep, but everyone eventually finds their go-to place for working things out and this one was mine.

At the moment, I wasn't sure how I felt about Daisy. About getting any closer to her, specifically. I liked her, I got along with her fine. But more than that, she had some qualities I hadn't run into before in a woman. I'd known vulnerable women, and tough women; vapid and brilliant women as well. Daisy had of all those qualities, and something else as well. Something a little dark, and a little lost and a little enticing.

Something I understood without being able to put a name to it. She was starting to bring out something in me that I hadn't felt in a long time. Not just a physical response, but an emotional one.

This would normally be when I'd pull back. I'm honest enough to know my own shortcomings, and most of them centered on keeping out of relationships. They always had a price and up until now I was tired of paying it.

Until now kept circling my brain in a hopeful way, confusing the hell out of me.

After two hours, I didn't come to any sort of resolution, but giving myself time to think helped, and I paddled in around sunset, feeling kinda thoughtful. Put away the paddleboard, showered, headed to the King Kamehameha Club and listened to Rick spill the gossip about whatever was going on along the tourist track without contributing much to the conversation myself until he added. "So, gonna go watch the commercial filming? Is Daisy hyped for it?"

"Where are they filming it?" I deflected, trying to recall if she'd said anything about a location. All I remembered was that it was going to be out on the water.

"Down at Makapu'U Beach," Rick replied. "Literally down the street from you and Higgins. Are you even listening, Thomas?" He looked annoyed and the last thing I needed was Rick getting interested in my mood, so I straightened up.

"Of course I am," I shot back. "I've just been a little busy."

"Fine," Rick rolled his eyes. "But me, I'm planning to watch it. It's not every day you see a woman painted gold jumping onto a floating target."

"True," I admitted, feeling a pang of worry. A production like that was bound to attract a crowd, and a crowd meant Daisy's stalker could be among them.

Daisy

I was glad I had a meeting because that helped take my mind off of Thomas and the whole case we'd just done. There was a lot I was feeling, but now wasn't the time to get into it, so I concentrated on what the Golden Doll people were showing me in the storyboards for the commercial.

"And then, you'll jump and display the lotion bottle on the way down, hitting the center of the floating ad banner down here," the director, Ace Manillo told me, pointing to the last panel. "We'd really like to wrap it in one take, Munro, and have you land as close to the center as possible. Can you handle that?"

"Absolutely," I bluffed. "How high up will the copter be?"

"No more than fifty feet or so," Ace replied. "We'll be editing the bird out in post, make it into a cloud."

"Ah," I replied, feeling a little uneasy. The upper limit for a water jump was forty-nine feet—about half the length of a football field. Any higher than that, I'd need a chute to cut the velocity because breaking bones was a real possibility. The ugly truth is that most folks who jump from bridges tend to shatter their skeletons before they drown, sadly. "Um, how deep is the water? How far out from shore will we be?"

"A hundred yards or so," Ace told me while he checked his watch. "Minimal waves but about twenty-four to thirty feet deep, sandy bottom, no coral. We've measured it at both tides when we laid out the banner."

That relieved me a bit, and I nodded. Ace flashed big white teeth at me and gave me a thumbs up. "Good girl. So, since we want the best light, we'll need you in place by seven for makeup and costume. Any questions?"

I shook my head, feeling a little giddy and loving it. I admit I'm an adrenaline junkie at times. Most stunt people are to some degree. We love challenging ourselves; it's part of what makes us do what we do. After being dismissed, I went to fill out paperwork and get measured for my bikini, which was distressingly small, but the product was suntan lotion, so I suppose it made sense.

By the time I returned to Robin's Nest, it was sunset. I managed a quick dinner of cold chicken and a can of green beans, carrying them up to my little rooftop spot as the light faded around me and the stars came out. Usually sitting up here was peaceful, but I had a lot on my mind at the moment, and only picked at my food.

I liked being around Thomas. He was funny and bright, and I didn't know how to deal with that because I'd been out of the dating and relationship pool for so long that I wasn't sure what to do anymore. Yeah, I'd had relationships before, but most of them had fizzled out after a while. A lot of men couldn't deal with my profession—it threatened their masculinity, I guess. Dumb, but true. And the ones who were turned on by it . . . that bordered on fetishism, which was creepy.

And then there was Isaac.

I'd had enough time to step back and realize that his obsession was partially my fault. I'd been so hungry for a relationship that I'd allowed him to cross that line from client to something more, emotionally. We hadn't done anything beyond a few kisses, but those had shocked me out of my delusions. I realized my folly early enough to run, but the guilt still managed to catch up with me.

It wasn't ALL my fault, but I wasn't blameless either.

And I sure didn't want a repeat of that with Thomas. Nice as he was, I wasn't going to lead him on just because I found him . . . attractive. That wouldn't be fair, or kind. He deserved better than that.

I sighed.

-oo00oo—

Morning of the shoot, and I was being shuffled from one station to another. The spray booth was barely large enough for the make-up woman and me, but I obligingly stripped down to the skin and let myself be thoroughly gilded. After that, I slipped on the bikini and wrapped myself in a sheet of plastic to keep the sand from getting on me. It was warming up, and I saw the other women who would be part of commercial nearby and joined their group as we stood waiting.

They also were gilded up and looking none too happy about it. The blonde in particular was griping about getting paint up her ass. She gave me a look and wrinkled her nose.

"So you're the jumper, huh? Kind of . . . bulky."

Ah. One of those types. I gave her a fake grin. "Thanks."

Sometimes the best way to deal with bullying is to take the insult as a compliment. Drives them crazy. In this case she turned away and tried to giggle but thankfully the other two girls gave me real smiles.

"Tawny, don't be a bitch," one of them murmured. "I know it's hard but try."

The blonde huffed at that, and I grinned, enjoying the support.