Book 3: The Island Hideaway (Getaway Bay® Romance)

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Zara Reddy pulled her dark hair out of its ponytail, the amount of water squeezing out with her elastic making a huge puddle on the floor. She was used to being wet, because she worked as a synchronized swimmer on the island on Getaway Bay, in some of their most popular shows.

This summer’s show kept her busy with practices during the week, and nightly shows from Thursday to Sunday. She didn’t work the matinees, thankfully. She was grateful for the jobs that always seemed to come her way. That way, she didn’t have to go to work at her family’s Indian restaurant in downtown Getaway Bay.

They were traditional in every sense of the word, and Zara had made more explanations about her life choices over the years than she cared to admit.

Her phone flashed violently with blue and green lights, and she checked her texts first as the other swimmers came into the locker room.

“Are you coming with us to dinner?” Suzie asked, taking Zara’s attention from her device.

“Oh, uh, I don’t think so,” she said, lifting her phone. “I think I just got that house-sitting job.”

Suzie wrung out her hair and started changing. “That’s great, Zee. Up on the bluffs?”

“Yeah. First time.” She was an experienced house sitter, and she’d completed a dozen or so jobs now. It was easy work, and she got to stay in some of the nicest houses on the island.

And this one?

This one was the crown jewel of the mansions up on the bluff. She’d been texting back and forth with a woman named Petra for several days now, and Zara had never answered so many questions. It was house sitting, not rocket science.

But Petra wanted a background check, and Zara’s references, and if there would be any pets in the house. Zara did have a long-haired white cat, but she’d kept that to herself. Petra didn’t seem like the kind that would tolerate felines.

The pay was sky high, and Zara smiled as she tapped out her acceptance of the job. She had a small apartment in a long row of them, and staying up on the bluffs would add to her gasoline bill, but it would be so much better than listening to the thirty-somethings next door try to become Hawaii’s next big boy band—at all hours of the night.

The address to the house appeared on her screen, along with the code to the gate and the garage. Anytime tonight or tomorrow, Petra said. Send me your PayMe, and I’ll get you the money.

Zara showered and dressed, throwing her heavy bag full of suits, props, caps, nose clips, goggles, and more over her shoulder and heading out to her car. Hopefully, it would start. It was much too hot to sit in the car without air conditioning, listening to the engine click while she prayed it would turn over.

“With this new job,” she muttered to herself as she crossed the parking lot. “You can maybe afford to buy a new car.” One that actually started the first time.

Sighing, she got behind the wheel and stuck in the key. Miraculously, the car started with the first turn, and she fiddled with the dials on the air conditioner to make it blow harder. Her phone rang, and she answered the call from one of her best friends, Ash Fox.

“Hey, Ash.” Zara put the car in reverse, trying not to let any of the jealousy she’d been experiencing when it came to Ash infuse her voice. See, Ash had been Zara’s go-to friend when everyone else had a boyfriend. Ash never did. Ash sat behind her sewing machine almost all the time. Zara could always count on Ash—until Burke.

And now Zara had a huge, empty house on the bluffs to go home to.

“So remember how you said you might be able to help out at Your Tidal Forever?” Ash asked.

“Yeah,” Zara said slowly.

“Well, Hope is swamped, and she’s looking to pick up a few seasonal people this summer. Just until the Bellagio wedding is over in September.”

Normally, Zara would’ve jumped at the chance, because it was work, and she didn’t pass up an opportunity to make connections around the island in case she met someone who could open another door for her.

Anything was better than the door leading to Indian Room.

“I can’t,” she said, infusing the appropriate amount of disappointment into her voice. “I just picked up that house-sitting job I was telling you about. With the show, and now this, I’m not sure I’ll have time.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Ash said. “Hope just said to spread the word. If you know anyone, have them call over to Your Tidal Forever and ask for her assistant, Shannon.”

“I will.” Zara knew Shannon too, and how she worked so closely with Hope and didn’t go insane was a quiet miracle.

“So you got the house-sitting job?” Ash asked.

“Yes.” Zara smiled as she turned onto the road that led back to her apartment. She just needed to pack a few things and get Whitewater, her cat, into her carrier. “I’m pretty excited about it. I’m heading up there right now.”

“Pool?” Ash asked.

“Big pool,” Zara said. “In fact, I think there are two pools at this place.”

“I have four dresses to make by next weekend.” Ash moaned.

“I’ll be here until September,” she said. “In fact, I think I’m going to give up my lease.” After all, it was only June, and she could save three and a half months of rent if she gave up her place. There were plenty of rentals on the island, and she wouldn’t have any problem getting somewhere else come fall.

Not only that, but then the boy band wannabes wouldn’t be her neighbors anymore. Oh, yes, she was going to give up her apartment, just as soon as she made it back down to town from the bluffs the following morning.

Tonight, she was going to bask in the grandeur of this mansion, maybe sit by the pool, and just relax.

* * *

An hour later, the sun was nowhere near setting, for which Zara was thankful. She didn’t want to pull up to the house in the dark, but Whitewater would not get in her carrier and it had taken Zara an extraordinarily long time to pack a bag and leave her house with the cat. The backs of Zara’s hands could testify of that, what with all the scratches from Whitewater’s protests.

The cat yowled from the passenger seat, and Zara said, “Oh, be quiet, Whitey. You’re fine.” So maybe the words held a bit of exasperation. But some of those scratches were deep, and two had bled a little. So the cat could be quiet as Zara navigated the twisty road up to the bluffs.

All of Getaway Bay’s rich and famous lived up here. Okay, fine, not all of them. But all the ones who didn’t live in the swanky penthouses on the beach. Beachside didn’t exist up on the bluffs. Oh, no. People bought these houses for the privacy and security, as well as the stunning, spectacular, three hundred and sixty degree ocean views.

Zara couldn’t decide which she’d rather have. Soft, white sand right out her back door, or a mansion in the hills. But for the next three months, she’d be taking this twenty-minute drive up to the mansion.

She turned onto the appointed road and went about a block before she met a closed and locked gate. After keying in the code, her excitement grew while the gate rumbled open. A sprawling piece of land sat before her, and she eased her car through the now-open gate onto the driveway.

With the gate moving closed behind her, another sigh passed through her body. She had tomorrow off from swimming practice, as the director was working with the acrobats and the main characters in Fresh Start, the not-to-be-missed show of the summer in Getaway Bay’s outdoor theater pool.

Zara had done a few shows at the same venue, and the special effects capabilities were superb. She’d also worked with Ian Granger, the director, several times, and while she’d thought they might have a spark in the beginning, it had fizzled fast.

Just like every other relationship Zara had had. She’d been in the dating pool for a long time, and she was feeling wrinkly and dried out from all the chemicals. She wouldn’t care that much that she was boyfriend-less if her mother didn’t badger her constantly to find that special someone.

As if Zara hadn’t been looking.

She gazed at the beautiful Hawaiian flowers, the trees, the black lava rock in the landscaping. This was done by a professional, and Zara loved every piece of it as she drove slowly past.

The house sat down a little hill and it too spread out and up, boasting tall white pillars on the front porch, which faced the ocean. Of course, three sides of this house faced the ocean, and Zara hoped the room where she’d be staying had a walk-out balcony. Or a patio. Something where she could step from inside to out and breathe in the fresh air and hear the waves crashing on the rocks far below.

She pulled up to the front door and peered through the windshield. “All right, Whitey,” she said to the cat. “Let’s go see where we’re going to be living for a few months.”

Petra never had to know about the cat. The woman said she and her family would be overseas for the summer, thus the need for a house sitter. So Zara killed the engine, walked around the car and shouldered her overnight bag before picking up the cat carrier.

At the front door, she keyed in the code and the lock disengaged. The alarm sounded once, and she stepped over to the keypad to disarm it. She hadn’t gotten a separate code for it, so she put in the same numbers she’d used to unlock the front door.

But that only made the alarm beep at her. The steady, every-two-second beeps made her want to stab something in her ears. She tried the code again, very aware of Whitewater’s increased yowling. It was as if the cat was trying to harmonize with the incessant beeping.

“Come on,” she muttered when she put in the wrong digit and had to go back.

She became aware of another sound amidst the chaos—growling. She turned to see a big, black dog standing about ten feet away, his teeth bared.

“Oh,” Zara exhaled most of the word as Whitewater started hissing inside the carrier. The dog barked, huge, booming sounds that filled the two-story high foyer.

With the beeping, and the hissing, and the barking, it was a miracle that Zara heard someone say, “Boomer, be quiet,” just before a man came through the doorway and stood behind the dog. He paused when he caught sight of Zara, his eyes widening. He lifted the spatula he held like he’d use it to defend himself if necessary.

“What are you doing here?” he yelled over the barking, the hissing, and the beeping.

“House-sitting,” she yelled back. “Who are you?”

He looked like he could be a fashion magazine model, what with that dark hair all swept back into a man-bun on the back of his skull. He opened his mouth, presumably to yell something else, and then rolled his eyes before striding forward.

“I changed the code,” he said, practically pushing her aside to punch in the numbers. The beeping stopped. He turned back to the dog. “Boomer, quiet.” The dog stopped barking, and Zara tried not to be impressed.

Tried, and failed.

“Sit,” the man said next, and the dog did that too.

Now, if she could get Whitewater to stop hissing….

Their eyes met, and dang if Zara didn’t have to jump back at the shock she received. He had gorgeous eyes the color of the black lava rock outside, and his olive skin had certainly been featured in many a woman’s daydreams about European beaus.

“Who are you again?” she asked, realizing he’d never said.

“I’m Noah Wales,” he said. “And I don’t need a house sitter.”

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐  “Zara and Noah were fun to read about, complete with crazy family and a funny story about how they meet. Clean romance, great friends and fun how we get to see couples from the rest of the series. I do enjoy this particular series within getaway bay.” ~Atvtnv - mom of many

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ “This was such a fabulous story! Elana has a gift of keeping one in suspense! Even though I knew it had to work out with a happy ending- I doubted sometimes! So much was against them, being from different parts of the world. I loved it!” ~Lavendarma