Ch. 5 ...And Keeping Your Foot Out of Your Mouth

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*Lokela

Lokela squeezed his brakes at the last second, flying into the narrow spot reserved for his all-terrain Trek behind the family shop. The wind that had cooled his skin on the way down to the beach nearly died out when he stopped pedaling and fine beads of sweat covered his brow. Such was life in Hawaii, but he wouldn't have it any other way. He shifted the back-pack on his shoulders and muttered a few swear words.

He had lost time this morning when he had to return to the library and reprint his help-wanted signs. His shift started ten minutes ago, and even if Miller didn't watch the clock, he hated not pulling his fair weight. Especially for something as stupid at losing the first batch of signs. He could have sworn he left them at the entry way at the house.

The shop was empty when he pushed through the door, and he strolled in, welcoming the blast of cold air.

His brother was standing at the counter reading something.

"Hey, Miller, sorry I'm late, I had to print off more—"

Blonde, Beautiful, and Not Happening came into view, smiling like a cat who just snagged a five pound Opakapaka from the wharf.

And there was an application form on the counter. He could only assume it was hers.

This chick was not going to work here, not a chance.

"Hi!" she said. She reached out to shake his hand for some unknown reason. "Looks like we might be working together."

He stared at her outstretched hand and left her hanging. Being friendly was not on his agenda today. "Why do you think that?"

"Because I would be perfect for this position, as Mililalinani...no wait," she said, stumbling over the Hawaiian name.

Lokela didn't bother to hide his grimace. Scoffing, he said, "It's Mil—"

"Mililani!" she said triumphantly. "But I'm supposed to call you, Miller, right?" This last part was directed at his brother who glanced back and forth between the two, obviously picking up on the tension.

"Listen," Lokela said, "we aren't hiring right now. Sorry, but you'll just have to try elsewhere."

"We aren't?" Miller asked.

Lokela shook his head. "We talked about it, but no. Not right now."

"And here I was under the impression that you were looking for a sales assistant. I mean, Miller was going over my application saying how well I would fill the position not thirty seconds ago. Funny."

"It's hilarious. Sorry. See you later." Lokela turned his back to her to go behind the counter and drop off his bag. He'd have to wait a while before he could hang the help wanted signs now, anyway.

"Are you absolutely positive you aren't hiring? I could have sworn you were." Ray's voice followed him into the back room.

It clicked—the missing help wanted signs, her visiting the house last night, and her lucky timing.

She was a thief.

"Yeah, we're sure," he yelled over his shoulder. "Miller, can I talk to a moment after you show Ray the door?"

Miller stuck his head into the room. "The hell is your problem? We need someone, and she has wait we are looking for," he hissed. He took a deep breath. "And then some. A chick that cute? Come on. Don't tell me you don't want all that eye-candy in the store. It's gets boring in here sometimes."

"Yeah, if we hire her and you ogle her, that's called harassment. But we aren't going to hire her. She's a thief. She stole the help-wanted signs I printed off from the table in the entry way last night."

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