Adrienne Monson - Fractured Slipper
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Lehua Parker
Angela Corbett
Adrienne Monson
Angela Brimhall
Fairy Tale Ink is a group of independent authors who write in different genres. But we have a couple of things in common: we love fairy tales and have always wanted to write our own retold versions. Since our desires lined up perfectly, we decided to do a series of anthologies. That way, readers can find one set of their favorite fairy tale, and read a few different versions of it.
We look forward to retelling more classic fairy tales and would love to hear what you think of the stories we have published so far. Please post reviews on any channel you frequent. If youd like to learn more about the authors and their other works, or would like to see more information on our other anthologies releasing soon, please visit our site www.FairyTaleInkBooks.com.
Magic Realism
by
Lehua Parker
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Copyright 2018 by Lehua Parker, LLC
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior return permission of the publisher.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the copyright holder is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy or copyrighted materials. Your support of the authors rights is appreciated.
For information on subsidiary rights, please contact the author at
AuntyLehua@LehuaParker.com
First edition eBook published by Tork Media in Fractured Slipper, a Fairy Tale Ink boxed set.
Printed in the United States of America
This title is available as an eBook, paperback, and audiobook.
For island girls who wear a different kind of slipper.
T he guy in the cargo shorts and polo shirt shakes his head. No matter how hard you cram, its not going to fit.
Im standing in the rental car parking lot at the Honolulu International Airport trying not to cry. Next to me are twin stacks of boxes piled higher than my shoulders, each stamped with Watanabe GlobalRush DeliveryExtremely Fragile. Looking at the orange Mini Cooper Convertible in front of me, Id be hard pressed to fit even my single carry-on in the trunk.
I have less than two hours to get everything across the island before my wicked stepmonster erupts and rains hot lava all over me.
Who am I kidding? Even if I pull off this this miracle, shell still blow her top.
The rental agent shrugs his shoulders. Youre going to need something much larger. Whyd your company reserve this?
I sigh. Because I asked for it.
A Mini?
A convertible. I had this image of driving through paradise with the top down.
You didnt know about the boxes?
Nope. This is Reginas way of getting back at me.
Regina
Regina Watanabe.
Of Watanabe Global?
Yep.
Youre her assistant?
Stepdaughter.
He checks his tablet. The reservation is for R. Watanabe.
Thats me. The R is for Rell, not Regina.
Got it. Youre here for the auction?
I nod.
The whole islands talking about it. Its a big deal, he says.
I wave my hand at the boxes. Theres not going to be an auction unless I can get these boxes to the venue. Talk to me about renting a truck or van.
He tippy-taps on his tablet for a moment and frowns. We dont have anything on the lot. I have a van due back in six hours, but thats no help. A few more taps. Looks like none of the other agencies have trucks or vans available, either.
I feel tears start to well again, but theres no way Im going to let something Regina did make me cry. When Daddy died six years ago, I swore whatever happened, Id never give her that satisfaction again. She thinks banishing me to a tiny all-girls prep school is torture, but I know the Christmases and summers I spent on campus with the headmasters family were warmer than any celebration at home.
Wherever that is.
I almost feel sorry for my ten-year-old stepsisters, Zel and Ana.
Almost.
Todays date is just a coincidence. I shouldve known when Regina sent me the ticket to Hawaii that this trip wasnt about me. The car and boxes prove that.
Stepmonsters never change their stripes.
I bite my lip hard. Theres got to be a way.
What about a delivery service? Can I hire someone to take the boxes to Lauele Town?
The attendant uses his stylus to push back the brim of his cap. You mean the pavilion above Keikikai Beach, right? Where theyre setting up the tents for the auction and luau?
I nod.
He looks at the ground for a moment and makes a decision. Look, I know we just met, and I dont want you to think Im some kind of creeper
Said every creeper ever.
I take half a step back.
He sees the look on my face and laughs. Which is exactly what a creeper would say?
I shrug.
Pretty much.
Just hear me out. You dont have many options, and there are a ton of boxes.
What do you have in mind?
He points toward the monkeypod tree in the employee lot. Take my truck.
What? He cant be serious. Who does that?
Take your truck? I say. I cant do that.
Why not? Im offering.
I raise an eyebrow, considering. Hes about my age, maybe a couple of years older. Hes taller than me, the kind of taller where you can wear fancy heels on a date, but dont have to stand on your toes to kiss.
Kiss? Right. Like Id know anything about that.
What I read in books and magazines doesnt count.
My eyes travel across his broad shoulders, down to his slim waist, and quickly back to his face.
Get a grip, Rell. Look at his eyes, not his body. Youre the one whos acting creepy about this.
His green eyes widen when I meet them.
Oh, great. He knows Ive been checking him out.
His uniform is hardly stylish, but he makes it work. Wisps of sun-streaked hair peek out from the edges of his cap.
My stomach flips. Hes cute. How did I miss this?
Oh, yeah. The boxes.
Focus, Rell!
I swallow and point. That truck?
Yeah. The Datsun with the surf racks. Dont laugh. Its paid for.
I feel the blush rise. No! I mean, its great
He laughs again. Relax. Im just teasing. It may not look like much, but it runs well. You can drive a stick, right?
My heart sinks.
No.
Good, because its an automatic. You have no excuse.
His eyes are full of mischief. This is too easy. Nothing involving my stepmonster is ever easy. Im missing something.
Why are you getting involved? This isnt your problem.
He flicks his stylus against his tablet. Im from Lauele, born and raised. Watanabe Global is a major sponsor of the new International Abilities Surf Camp.
I think theyre announcing some kind of partnership with Get Wet Prosthetics tonight, I say.
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