Last Night
“He loosened his tie and shed his jacket, then unbuttoned the top three buttons of what had once been an immaculately starched and pressed white shirt."I guess I chose the wrong profession," he joked as his secretary watched. Willa had been with him for years; she knew better than to try to help him. "The only place in the islands where men wear suits is in court—or in a coffin."Willa laughed dutifully, the way she always did when he came back from court, hot and irritable. Today he'd successful...ly argued a motion to dismiss a case; he should be happy, but he wasn't. What was wrong with him? He'd begun to suspect that winning wasn't enough. Yet it had to be. What else was there?Cooler now, he wheeled into his spacious office and transferred to his custom-made chair. He gazed out the high rise's window at Waikiki's sun-splashed surf with its endless parade of tubular waves that tumbled across the bay. Yellow catamarans and orange outrigger canoes glided across the water, competing for waves with sun-bronzed surfers and sunburned tourists on paddle-wheelers.MoreLess
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