Fisher had known the redhead in fifteen-twenty-one had looked familiar. Stacey Stapleton owned Aloha Hideaway, one of the few bed and breakfast locations at Getaway Bay. He knew he’d seen her at the City Council meetings where all anyone ever did was complain about “men like him” and “hotels that big.”
knownShe’d never stepped up to the mic, but she obviously held considerable power on the island—and his own Google search had confirmed why. She was a three-generation Hawaiian business owner. Her grandfather had created a new strain of hibiscus flower, and she ran the most successful B&B in the area.
He wasn’t angry at her undercover sting to spy on his hotel, and he hadn’t planned on confronting her for parading around under a false name. But when he saw her trademark red hair now piled
