True to Me - Kay Bratt Page 0,3
it made her fingers ache. When she lowered it, she was shaking.
Quinn liked routine and avoided drama at all costs. She felt safest in the cocoon she’d built around herself. But all that was about to be undone. Starting with a nondescript white box and a plane ticket, there was a secret with her name on it that Quinn meant to unravel.
Chapter Two
Four weeks later, Quinn arrived in Maui and stood looking out the glass doors that led to a small balcony. Her hotel room was on the highest floor, and the sound of silence engulfed her, unsettling with its hushed roar of reprimand.
She opened the sliding door and stepped out onto the balcony, breaking the quiet of the cocoon-like room behind her. The warm Hawaiian breeze caressed her neck, and the sound of the waves breaking in the distance made her feel grounded again.
Goose bumps ran up her arms, and she could feel her mother present there. Quinn could sense her approval of the reasons she was there.
People moved back and forth on the ground, some rather quickly, pulling their luggage, and others slowly strolled the paths bordered with thick, tropical vegetation. Nowhere did she see someone walking alone, as she had been only an hour before, performing what felt like the longest walk into the resort lobby and up to the front desk.
“Aloha,” a young woman had said, a brilliant white smile ready and waiting. “Welcome to Lahaina.”
Ona, as her name tag read, was beautiful with her long dark hair and sun-kissed skin. The woman radiated hospitality, her eyes warm and engaging. The youthfulness of her unlined face made Quinn feel much older than her thirty-two years.
After nearly thirteen hours of travel, she knew she looked a sight. She let her hair drop around her face like a curtain as she fumbled in her purse for a copy of the reservation confirmation.
“You’ll be in room five sixty-five,” the clerk finally said, sliding the key card across the counter.
Huge hotel faux pas, announcing her room number out loud, but Quinn was too tired to point it out to the fresh-faced clerk. She took the card, thankful for a room in which to get out of her travel clothes and shower.
“Have a great stay, Ms. Maguire,” the clerk said.
Maguire. Quinn felt like an imposter as she headed through the lobby to the elevators, following the small map that showed the sprawling resort and its many buildings. A minute later, she found refuge in a luxurious suite that looked out onto stunning scenery.
The sudden lump in her throat surprised her, but, then again, Maui was supposed to be a lovers’ paradise, and watching the people below reminded her of her solo status. She instinctively thought to call her mother and regale her with a description of the beauty before her and the details of her trip over, but, just as suddenly, she remembered the reason she was there, and that she’d never have that daily phone call again.
She didn’t turn to look at the vase on the bedside table where her mother’s ashes sat waiting. Quinn still didn’t know what she was going to do with them. That was one thing Ethan would be happy about—that the ashes were no longer in their home.
They hadn’t had much conversation about the change in plans since that first phone call. He’d been away more than home in the few weeks leading up to her trip, and most of their communication had been through voice mail or text. The icing on the cake was when she’d emailed him the link to a house on Maui that she’d decided to buy.
“You’ve really lost it now. No one buys houses on a whim,” he’d said, calling her immediately and begging her to tell him she wasn’t serious.
“That’s not what the Realtor said,” Quinn argued. “Most of his properties are snatched up, sight unseen, within days after they’re listed. It’s a tight market on Maui, and I had to move fast. Now, when we go together, we’ll have a place of our own.”
She could practically hear him simmering with anger on the other end.
“Look, this is how I want to invest my money, Ethan. Maui is where my mother is from, and I’ve always dreamed of going there. We can set it up for short-term vacation rental, and it’ll be a great source of income.”
“Who’s going to manage this great source of income?”
“A property manager,” Quinn replied calmly. “I’ve already researched all of it and have a