My Single-versary (Happy Endings 0.50)

“You’re going to reward yourself by doing something you don’t like?”

“I know it sounds paradoxical, Katie, but it feels right. As good as I feel in this bikini. It’s time to get out of my comfort zone.”

“I should create a class for that.” Katie taps her chin, as if thinking of a new session to add to her business empire. “I could call it Yoga for people who want to get out of their comfort zone.”

“You should. And if we lived closer, I would absolutely take that class,” I reply. “But for now, I’m going to start with this trip. Let the single-versary adventures begin.”

The sapphire-colored bikini is a done deal, and so is my brilliant plan for my single-versary celebration.

2

Caleb

Being your own boss has good points and bad, but being your own boss in Maui means afternoon surf breaks, and that counts for a lot. Ocean breezes, the rush of the surf onto the beach—taking a break from answering email when the temptation of the waves becomes too much to resist . . . I have it good.

I shake the water from my hair and load my board in the back of my Jeep and head back to the house. I start a pot of coffee before I go to change, stripping out of my wetsuit and tugging on board shorts and a T-shirt—Hawaiian lifestyle is the literal best.

On the way to my attached home office, I stop to pour two mugs of Kona Peaberry and bring one to my buddy Brady at his desk.

I nod to the spreadsheet on his computer screen and the weather forecast on his tablet. “If you’re trying to make me feel guilty for grabbing a surf break, it won’t work,” I say.

“Nah. I’d have gone with you if I wasn’t trying to find a guide to fill in for Tom’s tour that starts this weekend. We’re fully booked.”

I stop mid-sip, lowering the mug. “What happened to Tom? I thought he had a stomach bug.”

Brady shakes his head. “Nope. Texted from the hospital. Full-blown appendicitis.”

Grabbing my phone, I check my messages. “Dammit. He’s probably in surgery by now.”

“Yeah. We sent a nice potted plant, by the way.”

“Thoughtful of us,” I say, setting a reminder to check in with him, even if things get busy. “But this weekend . . .?”

He holds up a wait-a-minute finger and then swipes on his tablet. “I just sent you the updated schedule.” My phone pings, and I open the link. “I’ve got everything covered but the five-day adventure tour. I’m busy with surf camp both days.”

“No worries,” I say. “I wasn’t planning to lead a tour next week, so I can do it.”

“You sure?” he asks. “I wanted Tom to take this group because he’s good with the haters.”

“And I’m not?” I make a gimme motion with my hand, ready for him to dish up all the details. “What have you got for me?”

“A last-minute addition.” He picks up his tablet to read. “Solo guest. Woman named Skyler. Says she’s never snorkeled but, to paraphrase, ‘Knows she hates it with a passion and can’t wait for us to convince her otherwise.’”

I chuckle. “At least we know what we’re up against.”

Most guests are eager to do something they can’t in their day-to-day lives, whether it’s the first time or the fiftieth. But every now and then, we get passengers who, for whatever reason, seem determined not to have a good time, no matter what.

Which is a shame—there’s so much to enjoy about Hawaii.

A few of the jellyfish will thoroughly mess up your day, but as long as you avoid those, you’re golden.

“So, you do surf camp, and I’ll take the adventure tour and Ms. I Hate Snorkeling,” I tell Brady, typing my name into the schedule. “I love changing people’s minds about adventure sports. That’s why I started this gig in the first place.”

Brady leans back in his chair with a smirk. “It’s not so you could surf and hike and get paid for it?”

“That’s just a perk.” I point to my almost empty mug. “Like locally roasted Kona and sunshine.”

“Speaking of things that aren’t perks . . .” He sips his own coffee. “Remember that guy you didn’t want to hire because he had an ‘opportunist vibe’?”

I don’t think my people instincts merit finger quotes, but whatever. “He went to work as a guide for Excursions, didn’t he? What did he do? Hook up with a guest?”

“Gave her the whole business, apparently. Led her on with romance under the stars, long walks along the ocean, ‘never felt like this before’ sweet nothings—and then cut her loose. She left the mother of all scathing reviews on Travelocity, complaining about the boat, the staff, the facilities . . .”

“Ouch.” Hard luck for Excursions, but their guy broke one of the cardinal rules of tour-guiding.