Deadly Wipeout

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DEADLY WIPEOUT

by

BETH PRENTICE

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Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2016 by Beth Prentice

Cover design by Estrella Designs

Gemma Halliday Publishing

http://www.gemmahallidaypublishing.com

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

For Gemma—thank you for giving me the chance to be a part of this amazing world!

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CHAPTER ONE

I looked in the mirror behind the bar of The Lava Pot at Aloha Lagoon Resort and cringed. My hair that I had spent ages blow-drying this morning was now a frizzy mess. Sweat had broken out on my forehead and upper lip, and I had wet stains under the armpits of the blue shirt I'd chosen to wear. Great. Not the best first impression I would choose to give a prospective employer. I signaled the bartender.

Could I get a glass of water please? I asked in my friendliest tone.

It's just on the bar, love. Help yourself, he said in a thick English accent, nodding toward a large glass water pitcher sitting amongst a dozen glasses, all nicely presented on a silver-looking tray.

To be honest, if I hadn't been so nervous about the job interview I was about to undertake, I might have noticed how sexy he was. Well, actually, of course I noticed how sexy he was. I was preoccupied, not blind.

Oh, thank you, I replied, slightly embarrassed I hadn't noticed it myself.

You're welcome.

I wasn't an expert on English accents, but based on all my knowledge of Ricky Gervais, I guessed he was from somewhere in the south. His electric blue eyes twinkled at me as his lips broke out in a smile. My heart missed a beat, but I figured that was just nerves taking over.

I got off the stool and moved to the pitcher. Downing several small glasses of water, I took the time to look around me. The bar was just like any other tiki bar I had ever been in. Alright, it was the only tiki bar I'd ever been in.

The front opened out to the beach, displaying lots of wood and sea grass—and alcohol. I guess they had the most important things covered. Other than the bartender and a lady vacuuming the wooden floors beneath the tables, I was the only other person in the bar. Mornings were obviously their quiet time.

My palms sweated profusely, so I discreetly wiped my free hand on my new white jeans. Ooh, actually I shouldn't have done that. I twisted to look at my backside, and sure enough I now had a great big dirty mark. I guess my hand wasn't as clean as I thought it was. Great.

I had no idea why I was so nervous. It wasn't like this was the first job interview I'd ever had. True, it was the first job interview to be a surfing instructor I'd ever had, but I still shouldn't be this nervous.

I'd only moved to the island a week ago, but my mum and my brother had lived here for years now, and they loved it. Previously I'd been living in a small one-bedroom apartment overlooking the high-rises in Sydney, Australia.

Don't get me wrong—I love Sydney, but when my God-awful boss had fired me for something that hadn't even been my fault, I'd decided it was time for a sea change. I missed my family like crazy, so when Mum begged me—okay, maybe beg is not the actual word I should use—to move to Aloha Lagoon, I handed my notice to my landlord, had my belongings shipped out, and used all my savings to buy a plane ticket.

So far I was not regretting my decision. Well, I wasn't until the large man with islander heritage came walking toward me with a serious-looking folder under his arm.

Mr. David Mahelona, I presumed, the head of the resort's Human Resources department and the man who was here to interview me.

Samantha Reynolds? he asked, looking sternly at me.

I gulped. Y-yes, I replied, plastering a big smile on my face.

I moved to put my empty glass on the timber bar, ready to shake his hand, when I tripped on the leg of the nearest barstool and fell forward. I put out my hand, praying to any god that would listen that I wouldn't break the glass I held.

I needn't have worried though. The tray holding the other eleven clean glasses broke my fall, sliding off the bar and hitting the floor with an almighty crash. On the upside, the glass I held still remained intact.

I felt the heat race up my neck and stop at my ears as the sweat on my top lip switched up to maximum saturation.

I closed my eyes and hoped that when I opened them, I would be at home in bed and this would be nothing but a bad dream.

Opening them, I realized I could never be that lucky.

David Mahelona frowned, releasing a very big sigh as he did so.

I'm so sorry, I mumbled, carefully placing the unbroken glass on the bar and attempting to move behind it. I'll clean up the mess. And I'll…I'll pay for the damages, I stuttered.

The bartender, who'd witnessed my complete humiliation, moved closer to me as I tried to open the wooden gate separating us.

Umm…could I have a broom please? I asked, avoiding eye contact with him altogether.

Samantha! Leave it. Casey will clean it up, yelled Mr. Mahelona, moving over to a nearby table.

I looked up, shocked by his tone. Okay then, I wouldn't be arguing with him.

I hated making a mistake. I hated it. And I hated someone else cleaning up my mess even more. I looked at Casey and gave him a small smile. I also made a note to come back later, if I could pluck up the courage, and buy him a drink for his inconvenience.

Sorry, I mumbled, moving away toward Mr. Mahelona.

He placed the folder on the table, signaling for me to sit. I immediately sat in the chair he held out for me.

Thank you, I mumbled again.

He sat down opposite me and opened the folder. He took up a lot of air space. His skin was dark, his shoulders broad, and his expression downright intimidating.

Now tell me, why do you want to be a surf instructor?

Oh, umm… Be more confident. I have always had a love of the surf. I grew up in Sydney, but I was actually born near the beach in LA, so I guess you could say surfing is in my blood.

That was a statement I'd prepared earlier, and I praised myself for remembering it. He stared back at me, his thoughts unreadable.

I know I have no experience as an instructor, I continued, but surfing is something that comes naturally to me. If I can surf, I can teach someone to surf. At least I hoped I could.

So why should I give you the job? Your résumé says you've been working for an accounting firm for the last three years.

Yes, that's correct. I was a personal assistant, but I promise you that every afternoon you'd find me at the beach surfing the waves.

Actually that wasn't quite true. I have surfed. In fact, at one point it was something I did a lot, and I was very good at it. It had just been a very long time since I'd surfed. But I was sure it was just a practice thing. Two minutes in and I'd be a pro at it again. However, now didn't feel like the right time to mention that.

Why was I applying to be an instructor then? Because I was desperate, that was why. Moving my entire life across the world was expensive—far more expensive than I'd anticipated. And now I was broke. No, I didn't mean just short on cash this week. I meant my bank balance was a big fat zero. And as much as I loved my mother, living with her for any longer than necessary was going to kill me—or her, not sure which.

So as anyone could see, I needed cash. Fast. And it seemed that I'd moved here in the off-season, so work was limited. Hence I'd applied for this job. The job advertisement had said the position was teaching kids. How hard could that be?

I have a current first aid certificate, I said, giving him my biggest smile, and a Certificate II in Public Safety (Aquatic Rescue). Should I have added that I'd gotten that when I'd been fifteen? "I'm very good at organizing people. I'm a team player with an extremely high regard for public safety, I can follow safety policies and procedures, I'm excellent with paperwork, and I can plan your ass…er, backside off. My communication skills are prolific."

I did a quick assessment of whether or not I was getting my point across. And, sir, I possess a quality you can't learn—I'm completely at one with the water. It's really like an extension of me. God, even I'd hire me.

David Mahelona looked at me, almost as if he thought staring at me hard enough would tell him if I was lying or not.

I gave him a big smile and straightened my shoulders, hoping I conveyed a woman filled with confidence. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror again and grimaced. I actually looked more like a woman possessed. The humidity seemed to be having a very big influence on my current hairstyle. I made a mental note to stop by the Aloha Lagoon Resort hair salon and see if they had any product that could combat humidity. Either that or some very strong hair ties.

David Mahelona sighed. Our senior surf instructor is away with appendicitis and will be off work for the next few weeks. We've managed to reschedule the adults who were booked in, but the parents are a little upset that the children are missing out. I need someone who can start immediately.

I didn't think the parents were really worried about the kids missing out. I think it probably had more to do with the fact that they'd planned time without their little cherubs and were now stressing out.

I can start immediately.

Okay. I'll give you a trial. You can start tomorrow morning at eight, but be assured that I'll be monitoring you closely.

I let out a very big breath. Thank you. You won't regret it.

He probably would, but all I could do was my best, right?

He stood and held out his hand for me to shake. Human Resources will contact you shortly in regards to the paperwork and uniform. Welcome to the Aloha Lagoon Resort. With that he picked up his folder, stood, turned his back to me, and walked away.

Casey, who'd been listening in on the entire interview, walked toward me, drying a glass and smiling from ear to ear.

He made that decision fast. I must have impressed him, I said, relaxing for the first time since I'd arrived.

It helps that you were the only applicant for the job.

I should have been insulted by that comment. In that case, well done, me.

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Okay, don't panic. It'll be okay.

I was sure I had enough time to reconnect with my surfing skills and learn how to teach them before eight o'clock the next morning. And YouTube had all sorts of interesting videos. Surely one of them was a learn to surf tutorial.

I swiped at the iPad in front of me, waiting for the search to finish. I gave a sigh of relief as 91,400 results came swooping in. And first up was Learn to Surf—lesson one. I noted it had 446,097 views, so it must be good.

My brother, who was sitting at the table opposite me, had tears streaming down his cheeks from laughing so hard. Humph.

I'd left the resort in a bit of a haze and made my way back to my mum's house, where I presently lived until I found myself somewhere permanent. It was a bit cramped, as my brother was also living there until he found somewhere permanent. He'd been there a year. Geez, I needed to be out before then.

Mum walked up behind him and clipped him around the ear. Luke! Stop laughing at your sister.

He sat up straight and wiped at his face with the back of his hand, reminding me of all those years ago when we were kids.

Luke and I were twins. We were both almost carbon copies of Mum, with dark brown eyes and long sandy blond hair—yes, even Luke—and we were both twenty-eight years old and back living at home. At least we were both working.

It's not funny, I said, staring at him.

Yes, it is.

Really, Samantha, said Mum, why did you take a job as a surf instructor?

Because I have no money.

Yes, but why didn't you apply at the Loco Moco Café in the resort? I believe they're looking for servers at the moment.

I had a memory of how I smashed all the glasses at the tiki bar this morning, and shuddered.

I'm not server material, I replied.

And you're surfing material? asked Luke, laughing still. "When was the last time you were even in the water?"

Last night. I had a bath.

Luke laughed harder still. Okay, I'm off to sign up for lessons, he said, standing and kissing Mum on the cheek.

You can't. I'm only teaching kids. Plus, he'd better not. I'd kill him.

I probably shouldn't have been joking about things like that. Tomorrow morning I would be standing in front of a group of kids who were about to enter the water, and I would be responsible for them and their safety.

I groaned. When I'd seen the notice for the job, I'd thought it would be easy. Now I wasn't so sure this was a good idea.

Mum, they have lifeguards on the beaches here, don't they?

Mum shook her head as her way of saying she disapproved of what I was doing. I'm going to work. Remember I have a double shift today, so I'll be doing the late shift too.

Mum worked at the local nursing home. She'd been working there ever since she'd returned to Hawaii. It was a reasonably smallish home, and the nursing staff wasn't huge, which is why Mum occasionally did double shifts. Plus she always appreciated the extra money. For as long as I could remember, Mum had been a single parent, our dad having disappeared when we were just four. Sure, she now had a boyfriend, but he seemed not to help her very much. In fact, if you asked me, I'd say he seemed a bit of a leech. But Mum seemed to like him, so who was I to judge?

I had a moment of guilt, thinking about Mum's tight budget and the extra burden Luke and I were putting on it. I sighed and remembered that was why I'd taken a job that I felt a little underqualified for. Lucky I was a fast learner.

I watched as Mum pulled her blonde hair into a ponytail. The only sign of her aging was the grey hair just above her ears. Mum had turned fifty on her last birthday, but she didn't look a year over forty. Her figure was better than mine—I had no idea who I inherited the chunky thighs from—her hair was longer than mine, and her skin was smoother than mine. On more than one occasion I'd been asked if we were sisters.

I smiled for the first time today, feeling safe again now that I was home. Eight years ago, before Grandma had passed away, Mum had packed up and moved back to Hawaii to look after her. At the time I didn't realize I'd miss my mum so much. Sitting in her kitchen once again, I knew I'd made the right choice coming here. My life in Sydney had just been a chapter in the book of my life.

I looked at the YouTube clip and felt my stomach flip. I wasn't sure if it was a good flip from excitement or a bad flip from fear of what might happen tomorrow.

I closed my eyes and prayed it was a good flip. This new chapter was going to be exciting.

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Job number one was to buy myself a new bikini and wet suit. After watching three hours of Learning to Surf, the only thing I'd really learned was that a lot of surfers wore wet suits. And they made them look really professional.

I needed all the help I could get, so I grabbed Mum's bike and swung my leg over the seat. Riding a bike was something else I hadn't done in a very long time, but seeing as how I didn't have a car, it would have to do. I hoped the saying about never forgetting how to ride a bike was true.

The handlebars of Mum's red cruiser were wide, and the seat leaned back, making it difficult to ride. By the time I reached the main road heading into town, I'd happily mastered the steering and my balance. Before that, I'd just plain scared myself.

The tropical paradise of Aloha Lagoon was nestled along the coast of Kauai. The town mostly relied on the resort for work and income. There were a few local, family-run businesses, but they too relied on the tourists to keep food on their tables. At least that was what Mum had told me.

I had to admit it was actually a really lovely place. I understood why my family loved it here so much. The weather was great (even if the humidity was a bit high for my liking), and the locals were a multicultural bunch. Some were native Hawaiian's, some were imports from the mainland, and some were from countries around the globe who'd visited and never left. What they had in common was that they were all really friendly. Not that I'd met too many of them so far, but the ones I had met were lovely. Actually, that wasn't quite true. Mr. Mahelona scared the bejeezus out of me, so maybe I should rephrase with mostly everyone was really friendly.

Mum lived on the outskirts of town in a small three-bedroom, timber-clad house. Driving, it would only have taken me five minutes to reach my destination. Riding the bike it took me closer to twenty, but I couldn't complain. The landscape was magnificent. I took some deep breaths and enjoyed the fresh air as I smiled. I listened to the birds calling each other and looked at the backdrop of lush green mountains as I pedaled along the road lined with palms and pines. We had palms in Australia, but I'd never seen any as tall as the ones in Hawaii.

My mind drifted to Mum and how all those years ago she'd left the States to follow Dad across the world to Australia and how hard that must have been to leave her family behind. I remembered how hard it had been for me when she'd left Australia and moved to Hawaii, but I understood her reasons. Now I was just glad that I'd eventually followed her.

I pulled my bike to a stop outside Lahela's Surf, got off, and leaned it against the wall, the sweat tickling my face as it ran its way down my cheek. Lahela's wasn't a big chain surf shop. It was a small shop founded by Lahela herself. I'd called Mum earlier asking her where the best place to buy a bikini and wet suit was, and this shop was what she'd recommended. Apparently Lahela was now a resident of the nursing home where Mum worked, but the business was still family-owned and operated by her granddaughter, Alani.

I heard the little jingle of a bell as I opened the door and entered. Thank goodness she had air conditioning.

I looked around the racks of T-shirts, spotting a couple I liked. I was definitely a T-shirt kind of girl. I picked up a hanger and found some shorts to match, wondering if my budget could stretch to paying for them. I was just browsing the bikinis when a woman about my age popped her head up from between a pile of boxes at the back of the shop.

She screamed. You scared me! She stood, dropping the bag she held. Darn it, she cursed, bending to retrieve it.

I took the few seconds to assess her. She was short—well, a lot shorter than I was anyway. She had sleek black hair, islander dark skin, and was completely gorgeous. I blinked in the wattage of her smile.

Sorry, she said. Can I help you with anything?

Oh. Yes, please. I'm looking for a wet suit.

Sure. What type were you after?

Umm, what types do you have? I had no idea there was more than one type.

"We have the wet suit jacket, the Short John wet suit, Long John wet suit, the Springsuit with short and long arms, the Short Arm Steamer, and the Full suit."

She stood looking at me, smiling, obviously waiting for my answer. To be honest, I had no idea what she'd just said. After a minute of awkward silence, she stepped out from her pile of boxes and moved toward me.

How about I show you. They're all on the wall at the back of the shop.

Thank you, I mumbled, following her through the store. We stopped at a rack overflowing with wet suits of all different sizes and styles. Even though the beach was a very popular place I'd visited as a teenager, in the last few years, I hadn't spent too much time there, and I'd never worn a wet suit. I coughed, clearing my throat.

What would you recommend? I asked, my tone sounding much more professional.

I'm assuming you want it to use immediately?

I nodded.

And for surfing?

I nodded again.

Are you here on vacation? she asked, flipping through the suits as she spoke.

No. I just moved here a week ago. I quickly brought her up to date with my current living situation.

That's so exciting! Oh, you're going to love it here. Mostly everyone is just so friendly.

That was definitely the impression I'd gotten so far.

Okay then, she said, turning back to the wet suits, I'd suggest the Short John, which has no arms, or the Springsuit, which is short in the leg with the full arm coverage. Or did you want full sun protection? If so, definitely the Full suit. Only not too many people want the full suit, as the water is always warm.

I'll try the short one with the long arms, thank you.

She looked me up and down and chose the appropriate size for me. Walking me to the changing room, she ushered me in.

We ask that you leave underwear on, but if you need any assistance, just call me. I'm Alani, she said as she pulled the curtain closed.

Okay. I could do this. I did think she had chosen a size too small, but I'd take that as a compliment. I peeled off my shorts and tank top, leaving my push-up bra and G-string on. I didn't normally wear G-strings, but this morning I hadn't wanted any underwear lines in my jeans for my interview, and even though I'd changed my clothes, I'd left the underwear on. Now I wished I hadn't. I checked that the curtain was pulled all the way over.

Taking the suit off the hanger, I stood on one foot and pushed the other into the suit. It was a bit of a squeeze, but I guessed they were meant to be tight.

Two feet in—it was time to pull it up. I pushed my arms into the sleeves and attempted to pull the suit up