The Big Break

“Or?”

Kai swallowed. “Or you’d quit.” Panic rose in his throat. First Bret had quit on him. Now Gretchen, too? Everyone’s abandoning me because they know I’m finished.

“Exactly.” She ripped off the page on the top of the clipboard. “My official letter of resignation, effective now.”

He glanced at the handwritten note, stunned.

“Gretch, you can’t quit! I need you. I...” She’d been with him for almost all of his surfing career. As his star had risen, so had hers. They made a nearly unstoppable team. He’d never worked with anyone else before and hadn’t even considered the possibility.

Gretchen raised her chin, determined. He knew that look, and it was the one where she usually told him he needed to run five more miles and do an extra round of strength training.

“I can quit and I am. I told you to cut out the partying and staying out late. You didn’t. I told you to eat right. You didn’t. I told you to show up at training sessions, and you haven’t. It’s not me who’s quitting. It’s you.”

Kai knew she was right.

“But I pay you anyway,” Kai pointed out. “And I can pay you more. Name your price.”

“It’s not about the money.” Gretchen shook her head, a look of pity washing over her face. “I’ve got my professional pride, Kai. You’re in some kind of really dark place, and you need to find a way out of it. Maybe me quitting will be the inspiration you need to figure out what’s wrong and do something about it. I don’t know, but what I do know is that I can’t help you. Not until you get your head right.”

“Gretchen, give me one more chance. I promise, I—”

“You promised last week. No, it’s done. I’m done. I’m sorry, Kai.”

“But the surfing competition is in a matter of months! Who am I going to find on this kind of short notice?”

“Maybe some of your friends can help you?” Gretchen held up her smartphone and showed him the picture of him drinking in the hot tub. That damn picture was going to be the death of him. He suddenly wished for a massive internet malfunction, or at least just some strange outage that affected only social media sites.

“That’s not as bad as it looks.” That was the second time in as many days that he’d said that, but it didn’t make it true. “Look, I know I’m a mess, but...”

“I can’t do anything for you, Kai. You’ve got to change that.”

Now she sounded like Jun.

“Gretchen, please...”

“Uh-uh. Kai. That’s strike three, and I told you, after strike three, you’re out. I don’t mess around.”

There’d be no changing her mind. Kai was officially screwed, and not in the way that involved tourists and hot tubs.

What am I going to do now?

On his patio, he saw Jun’s gift bag and next to it, on the tabletop, her card: “Good for One Free Tai Chi Class.” He saw a list of scheduled classes on the back, one of which was being held this afternoon.

It’s not like I have anything else going on. He went inside to dry off and get dressed.

CHAPTER THREE

JUN WAS PACKING up her gym bag, trying very hard not to think about Kai Brady. She’d been trying for nearly an hour, but it wasn’t any use. She’d made the mistake of searching for him online and found a photo of him making out with at least one of the women she’d seen at his house. That wasn’t the only photo, either. It seemed that Kai made a point of posing with attractive women whenever he could. She didn’t know why she was surprised. He was handsome, rich and a bona fide celebrity.

All she could think about were the women at his place, clearly in the mood for whatever threesome party he was throwing. She shouldn’t care, but for some reason it bothered her. She’d spent a year thinking Kai was brave and selfless.

She didn’t like the conflicting images of Kai she now held in her mind. It was much easier when she just thought of him as a nice-guy hero. Or maybe that’s just because you’re jealous. Wish you were in the hot tub with him, Jun?

“Earth to Jun. Come in, Jun.” This was Tim Reese, the owner of Island Fit and her boss. He used to be an Olympic athlete and had won a silver medal in some track-and-field event. Now he was the charismatic bodybuilder who inspired people to come in his gym just by standing near the window up front.

“Sorry, Tim. I wasn’t listening.”

“I gathered that. I was asking if you could pull a double shift Friday. Jenna bailed on me and Rich’s still on vacation, so that means just me, unless you save me.”

Jun hesitated. It would mean paying extra for day care or calling in a babysitting favor from her sister, which would cost her in a different way. Then again, the overtime pay could always come in handy. Po had outgrown his clothes, again.

Tim put his hand on her shoulder and let it linger there. Jun stepped out of the touch automatically, putting space between her and her boss. Sometimes Jun wondered if Tim had a crush on her or if he was just the touchy-feely type. Either way, she felt a smidgen uncomfortable when he closed in on her personal space. But Tim offered her a decent job, a steady one, and she spent a good deal of time convincing herself it was all in her head.

“Hey, if it’s a big deal, I mean, don’t worry about it...” Tim worked hard to backpedal. He put his hands up and backed away, and it was times like these she thought, I’m just imagining that he’s coming on to me.

“Let me see if I can get someone to watch Po,” she said. “If I can, I’ll do it.”

“Great.” Tim’s eyes lit up in a way that was a little bit too excited. Nope. Definitely not imagining it. Jun definitely did not feel the same way about Tim. Not that he wasn’t a nice guy, but Jun wasn’t interested in dating or adding complications in her life right now. She’d never yet met a man who was okay with Po being her first priority.

“I’ve, uh, got to head out.” Jun finished stuffing her bag and zipped it closed, itching to get some distance from Tim. She had only two hours of day care left and thirty minutes until her Tai Chi class on the beach.

“See you Friday,” Tim called as she walked out the door. Jun waved, but thankfully, her phone rang, so she could ignore Tim’s intense blue stare.

She glanced down at the screen and saw the number of Po’s day care. Instantly, her heart slid into her throat. What had happened now? Every time she saw Day Care on her caller ID, she felt as if she were right back in that moment a year ago when she had been told by a crying teacher that somehow they’d lost Po.

She took a deep breath, shoring herself up for bad news, and answered.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Lee,” said a crisp voice on the other end of the line. The director of the day care, Penelope Anne.

“Mrs. Anne, what’s wrong?”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to pick up your son.”

“Is he sick?” Jun’s heart thudded. Sick, or worse, hurt? He always played rough on the playground, swinging his little body dangerously off the monkey bars. Jun fumbled in her bag for her car keys. They jangled in her hand as she searched for the right one. Her car was so ancient it didn’t have automatic locks.

“No, no. He’s fine. I’m afraid he’s...” Mrs. Anne swallowed “...bitten his teacher.”

Jun froze, her key in her door.

“Oh, no.” Jun’s stomach lurched. “Not again.” White-hot embarrassment flared up her neck. She’d talked with Po often about biting, but nothing seemed to get through. Last week he’d bitten a boy who’d taken his crayon, and the week before, he’d bitten a girl who’d spilled water on him, and now this. She’d thought it was just a phase, something he’d grow out of, but now she was starting to wonder if it was related to the nightmares and the stress and everything else left over from the tsunami. “I am so very sorry. Is the teacher okay?”

“Just bruised, but I’m afraid you’ll have to come get Po. And we’ll need to talk.”

Jun didn’t like the sound of that. She’d already been warned twice before: third bite and he’s out. She swung herself into the front seat and flew to the day care, nearly running a red light, she felt so flustered.

Minutes later, she was sitting in Mrs. Anne’s tidy office, with the single computer on her desk and the row of children’s artwork pinned to a clothesline running the length of the window behind her. Po was still in his day-care room, playing with big foam blocks, building some kind of castle. She’d sneaked a look through the slit of a window in the door on her way by.

“Ms. Lee, we’ve been very understanding about all the trauma Po has suffered in the last year, and we understand it’s a process. Many of our children have been affected by that horrible day, but I’m afraid we haven’t seen much progress with Po. And, as I don’t need to remind you, this is the third incident in the month, and we have certain policies at Pacific Day Care.”

Jun’s throat went dry. “I’ve been working with him, Mrs. Anne. We’ve been reading the book you lent us, Teeth Are Not for Biting.”

“I’m sorry. I’m afraid, beginning tomorrow, you’re going to have to find new care for Po.”

It was one of the worst things a working single mom could hear. “But the other day-care centers are all full. Before we settled here, we were even on a wait list!” It was true. The tsunami had wiped out so many businesses on the west side of the island, and while some were still rebuilding, like their old day care, others had decided not to rebuild at all.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Lee. We’ve done what we can, but we have to think of the other children.” A soft knock came at the door.

“Come in,” the director called, and the door creaked open as Po’s teacher led him in. Just four, yet he seemed to know he was in trouble and he came sheepishly to his mother’s side, dark-haired head hung in shame.

Jun’s heart thumped as she looked at him. For that second, she thought the expression on his face was exactly hers. Of course, strangers in the supermarket felt differently. Po’s cocoa-colored skin was several shades darker than her own, a trait from his father, but he had her eyes and heart-shaped face. She saw the similarities clear as day, but others didn’t. She supposed it was a mother’s eye.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Lee,” Mrs. Anne said in a tone that didn’t sound very much as if she were sorry.

Jun stood, realizing it was pointless to stay. “Thank you, Mrs. Anne.” She took her son firmly by the hand and led him out. Once outside the school, she turned and kneeled by Po on the sidewalk.

“How many times have we talked about biting? Teeth are not for biting.” Jun grabbed her boy’s arms and squeezed. Anger bubbled up in her, as it did anytime he acted out.

Po shrugged, eyes down, kicking his small Spider-Man tennis shoe into the ground. He was wearing his favorite Spider-Man T-shirt, faded from too many washings and already beginning to be too short at the waist. But Po wouldn’t hear of parting with it. He’d wear it every day if she’d let him.

“Why did you bite the teacher?”

“She’s mean,” Po said, crossing his arms.

“Po, I’m sure she’s not mean.”

“She was going to throw me in the pool. I told her, I don’t want to!” Po shrugged again.

Jun sighed and dropped her head in defeat. The day care had a small pool in the back where they taught kids how to swim. Po hadn’t wanted to go near any water since the tsunami, not that Jun blamed him. It wasn’t surprising he’d lashed out at a teacher trying to push him in.

“Why didn’t the teacher let you sit on the edge? Just put your feet in?” Anger boiled in Jun’s chest. What were those teachers doing to her son?

“She said I’d done that enough.” Po shrugged. “She said I needed to join the class. So she picked me up and took me to the diving board and was gonna throw me. So I...” Po hung his head, not finishing. Jun could fill in the rest.

“They should not have done that. They were wrong.” Of course, Mrs. Anne hadn’t mentioned that in the exit interview.

She wanted to march back into the day care and ask them what they were doing trying to force a boy petrified of the water into the deep end of a pool. Po wouldn’t even take a bath. And they were trying to get him to swim in nine feet of water?

At the same time, she knew it wouldn’t make any difference, and besides, Po shouldn’t have bitten anyone.

Not that she couldn’t understand why he had.

She felt frustration well up in her as she stared into the face of her beautiful baby boy. She wished she could fix him. Before the tsunami, he’d been the first kid in the water and the last out. Now she wondered if he’d ever swim again.

“Am I in trouble now? Big trouble?” Po asked, his dark eyes sad.

“We don’t bite, Po,” she said sternly. “Ever.”

Po nodded, his eyes growing wide, his bottom lip quivering just a little bit. She hated to see him like that, especially when she knew it wasn’t all his fault. But she couldn’t not punish him, either. So while she wanted to hug him and tell him it would all be okay, the ghost of her tiger mom in her head told her, Two wrongs don’t make a right.

“No TV today,” she added.

“Mom!” he protested.

“I mean it.” Even if her son wasn’t completely in the wrong, she still had to lay down the law. Yet as she watched his little shoulders slump over in resignation, she wondered if she was doing the right thing. Should she have caved and told him it was fine to bite some crazy woman who tried to throw you in the deep end of the pool? She couldn’t help but second-guess herself, something she’d been doing quite a lot in the past year.

Po may have gotten kicked out of day care, but why did she feel like the one who was failing?

Jun glanced at her watch.

“My Tai Chi class!” she exclaimed, realizing that she had just a few minutes to get there and no time to find a sitter. “You’re coming to Mommy’s class.”

After a hectic drive, Jun managed to pull into a spot not too far from the beach. She grabbed her bag and took Po’s hand, guiding him down the sand-strewn path next to the parking lot, which led to the swaying palm trees and sparkling blue ocean. Already, most of her class had gathered and she hated that she was late. It was unprofessional and unlike her.

“Come on, Po. We’ve got to hurry.” She wondered why Po was always so fast when he was running from her, usually bolting straight toward a busy street, but when she wanted to get somewhere, it was as if his feet had grown lead soles.

This day just felt as if it had taken on a life of its own and was quickly spiraling out of her grasp.

“Hey, do you need a hand?” The deep rumble of a voice behind her made her whirl. Following her across the asphalt parking lot was Kai Brady. He grinned, showing his beautiful white smile in his smooth tanned face. This time he was wearing a shirt, but it didn’t change the power of his magnetic pull.

Her heart lurched, and she was acutely aware of her windblown hair and the fact she was late, harried and completely disheveled.

What on earth was he doing here?

CHAPTER FOUR

KAI OFFERED TO take Jun’s bag, but it was clear by her expression that she wasn’t going to let it go. She stood there looking uncertain, clutching her boy’s hand, and he wondered for a minute if she was actually not glad to see him. He wasn’t used to cool welcomes. Po, however, didn’t disappoint.

“Kai!” the little boy cried, his voice pure joy as he whipped his tiny hand free of his mother’s grasp and ran to him. Surprised that the boy even remembered him after all these months, he grinned. The boy charged straight to Kai, arms wide. Po’s enthusiasm was infectious as Kai instinctively picked him up and swung him in the air, causing him to squeal in delight.

“Good to see you, Po!” Kai said, and meant it. Seeing him happy and healthy meant something. It reminded him how precious life was. In this moment of pure joy, Kai didn’t think surfing even mattered. He wondered why he had stayed away from Po for so long. The elation on his innocent face warmed Kai’s heart. He felt better than he had in months.

Kai caught the disapproving look on Jun’s face and put Po down, suddenly noticing how much the boy had grown in a year. He’d lost some of the baby fat he’d carried then. His dark hair was shorter, but the devious smile on his lips as his mother whispered something in his ear was exactly the same. In his hand, he clutched a plastic Spider-Man figure, and he was dressed nearly head to toe in clothes depicting the web slinger.

Thinking back to the tsunami, Kai remembered Elmo tennis shoes as the boy scrambled up the stairs to the second floor of the day-care building just seconds before the first wave hit. Kai could hear the loud chest-thumping roar of the wave even now, could feel it reverberating in his bones.

“I have a poster of you in my room!” Po exclaimed, breathless. “You’re like this!” Po mimicked a surfing pose.

“A poster, huh?” Kai glanced over at Jun.

“He saw it at the store and wouldn’t let us leave until I promised to get it for his birthday,” Jun admitted as she juggled the beach bag, a bottle of water and a clipboard.

“Can I take that?” Kai again offered to take the bag, but she resisted, moving her shoulder away from him.

“I’m fine,” she said, tightly, like a woman who didn’t want help. She probably didn’t like men who opened doors, either. Stubborn and independent, he could tell. Yet the obstinate set of her chin just made her look even prettier, a fact she’d probably hate to know. “Can I...uh, we...help you? I’ve got a class here...” She nodded anxiously down at the modest crowd milling about in the shade of palm trees on the beach.

“That’s why I’m here.”

Jun looked at Kai as if he’d grown horns. He wanted to check to make sure his hair wasn’t doing something strange. She cocked her head to one side, her dark ponytail flowing down one pale shoulder as her brown eyes studied him, confused.

“Your free class?” He held up her business card between two fingers and then her face lit up in recognition.

It had been on a whim he’d even come, but after Gretchen had quit, he’d been at loose ends. The card she’d given him had felt like serendipity.

Gretchen’s words still ricocheted around his head. It’s not me who’s quitting. It’s you.

He knew she was right, and yet he didn’t know how to snap out of it, or he would. He glanced at the beach, at the people there in loose-fitting shorts, waiting on class to start. Part of him hoped Tai Chi would help him. But deep down, he knew Tai Chi wouldn’t replace Gretchen’s grueling training sessions. Tai Chi wasn’t the answer, but it was a way to spend the afternoon that didn’t involve heading to a tourist bar and seducing another hotel guest, which he thought had to be an improvement.

Unless it involved seducing a beautiful Tai Chi instructor instead.

He glanced at her fitted leggings and her bare toned calves. Yes, he wouldn’t mind that at all.

“Oh...yes, of course.” Her demeanor changed. “I didn’t expect you today, but you’re welcome to stay. Although today might not be the best class. Po, uh...is usually at day care, but...”

“I bit my teacher!” Po exclaimed, in the blunt honesty of a four-year-old.

“You bit your teacher!” Kai echoed, surprised. “Why?”

Kai saw Jun wince.

“She wanted to throw me in the pool!”

“But I thought you liked to swim,” Kai said, remembering how amazed he had been at the then-three-year-old’s advanced dog-paddling skills in the flood after the tsunami. They’d saved him. The boy’s eyes grew wide and he shook his head slowly side to side. Kai got a feeling then that there was more going on with Po than his mother had let on when she’d dropped by his house. The look on his face when he’d mentioned swimming was plain old fear, and Kai recognized it clearly enough. It was the same way he felt about surfing.

“Po, come along now. We’ve got to start class. If you’d like to join, you’re welcome, Mr. Brady.” Jun infused a formalness into her speech and Kai could almost hear a wall coming up, a protective mom’s instincts. The day-care discussion or one about swimming was not one she wanted to have.

“Call me Kai,” he said, flashing his best smile.

“Yeah, Mom. Call him Kai!” Po exclaimed, jumping up and down and clapping.

“All right,” Jun acquiesced, but Kai noticed she didn’t actually say his name. She looked away from him, a blush creeping up her cheek. “Come on, Po. Let’s set you up so you can build sand castles while Mommy does her class. I need a good helper.”

Po nodded solemnly in a way that showed he was taking this as seriously as a little kid could. He trailed after his mom as the three of them joined the rest of the class on the beach under the shade of some large palm trees. Jun waved to some of the people waiting as she bustled Po over to an outcropping of lava rocks at the edge of the shade, plopping him down on a towel with a bucket and shovel about thirty feet from the ocean. Kai tried to imagine this sweet boy as a wild child who would bite his teacher at day care. He just couldn’t see it.

A man waiting for the lesson to begin sighed loudly near him.

“She brought her kid?” the fiftysomething man groaned, disapproving. “I didn’t pay for a toddler class.” Kai eyed the man with the silver hair in the black T-shirt and frowned. The judgment rolling off him was palpable, and Kai wanted to tell him to give Jun a break. What was she supposed to do? Leave Po in the car to die of heatstroke?

Kai felt defensive of single moms. After all, he’d been raised by one, and then, after she died, he’d been raised by his aunt, who’d done it all by herself. He knew how hard a job it was, and he also knew that this man had no idea at all the sacrifices Jun likely made.

Jun was too far away to hear and Kai was grateful. He hoped the guy kept the rest of his complaints to himself. Jun and Po didn’t need his grousing. Kai took up a position beside him on the far side of the class as the dozen or so people fell into a loose grid in front of Jun. Kai had always thought that Tai Chi was only for older people, but the class included a wide variety of ages, and surprisingly, most of them were men. Jun unzipped her Windbreaker and was now in a sleeveless coral-colored tank and yoga pants. Kai couldn’t help but notice the tight fit of black Lycra down her muscled legs, and instantly, his thoughts went to what it might feel like to run his hand up them. He realized he wasn’t the only man who was thinking that way, either, as most of them stared openly at Jun, some eyes lingering on the hint of cleavage in her scoop-neck tank. Then he understood why there were so many men taking a Tai Chi class. He had no doubt she was good at what she did, but he also knew some of the men in this class probably didn’t care about Tai Chi as much as ogling a hot teacher for forty-five minutes.

If Jun knew that was why she had so many men in her class, she didn’t let on. Her smile was warm but not flirty as she, and everyone else in class, kicked off flip-flops. He did the same and sank his toes into the cool sand.

“I am so sorry we’re getting a little bit of a late start,” Jun said. “I had...uh...babysitting trouble today, so I really appreciate your patience.”

Most of the class seemed fine, but the grumpy man in the black T-shirt let out a disgruntled sigh. Kai glared at him. “Kids,” the man said to Kai with an eye roll as if Kai were in on the complaint.

Kai was about to say something, but Jun started the class and he didn’t want to be caught talking. Jun led them in a warm-up. She was delicate and graceful. Kai noticed that the disgruntled man kept staring at Jun’s body. That observation made Kai like him even less. After completing a series of stretches, she began the Tai Chi.

“We’ll start with the motion called Hands on the Table,” she said, putting her hands palm-down in the air in front of her. “And then we’ll Calm the Water.” She stepped out on her front foot, shifting her weight and pushing her hands, still palm-down, outward. Kai and the other students did the same. They went through the same motion on the other side. None of the moves were strenuous, and yet, doing them, Kai did feel a bit of a calm seep into the slow rhythm. Kai tried to keep his eye on Jun as they went through several more movements, including Moving the Water and Over the Drum. About fifteen minutes into the class, he saw that Po had abandoned his bucket and shovel and was mimicking every move his mother made, almost as if he wanted to do the class himself. The end result was an adorable, awkward preschooler’s version of Tai Chi. In his little Spider-Man shirt, he was pretty darn cute.