Page 25 of The Other Side of Paradise (Story of Paradise #2)

Allison

“Hey,” I said to Gavin right when I’d clocked in, in the back where I was slinging up my bag on the wall rack. “Just a heads-up, I got a request for some one-on-one concierge access at the spa center at nine today, so—”

“Stella wants you to give her a private massage?”

“What—no!” I bristled, turning to where he pushed away from the scheduling system computer, grinning at me. “I’m not a masseuse, Gavin.”

“So, it’s not Stella?”

I groaned, looking away, a hand to my forehead. “Blame BB for this, not me. Stella’s just… caught in the crossfire.”

“Oh, is she? Poor girl. Having to get a little private time in the spa center with the concierge staffer who’s desperately in love with her. She’ll live.”

“I’m going to bite you. Am I clear to step away from the desk for it?”

He laughed, turning back to the computer. “Do as you like. Just don’t tell me the details.”

“I’m not touching her. And why are you so invested in me touching her, you creep?”

“It’s not me who’s invested in you touching her, Miss Holt.”

Ugh. I wish he wasn’t right. And I wish I wasn’t reminded of how right he was when I found Stella in the spa center—not at the back getting a massage, but in the front area, where soft music played in a room rich with the scent of incense and cosmetics, sitting in one of the reclining seats in front of the panoramic view of the ocean past the northside cliffs.

She was dressed in a loose, flowy tank and tiny shorts, showing off so much of her body, and I hated Gavin for putting into my mind the thought of giving her a massage, touching her back and hearing her moan softly…

“As requested for Miss Bell,” I said, jostling her out of her thoughts and me out of mine, as I brought a tray to her with a cup of coffee and a plate of fresh strawberries and cream. She smiled sweetly at me, picking up her glasses from the side table and putting them on as I set the tray down.

“What lovely service. Where can I put in a good word with your management?”

“Thank you, ma’am. You’ll find you don’t need to bother, because my supervisor is a weird-ass nerd.”

She laughed, picking up the coffee and sipping it. “So, how was last night?”

I sighed. “Yeah, good. I got home, took a shower, and I went to sleep. It was great. Nobody else was there.”

“Not physically, at least.”

Oh, god. She was technically wrong too that I’d masturbated after getting home, but…

only because I hadn’t even made it that far.

I was not telling her that. And certainly not telling her what I’d been thinking about.

I turned to busy my gaze with the windows.

“Is this what we’re talking about first thing in the morning? ” I said, voice awkward.

She laughed. “We can save it for last thing at night instead.”

“Uh… uh-huh. Yeah, sure, maybe tonight.”

I don’t know if it was a nightmare or a relief that that was when her parents showed up—her dad still the same stoic figure I’d seen with Stella the other night, while her mother looked like a different person, wrought with nerves and a furrowed brow that softened when she saw Stella.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said, coming across the room and putting a hand on Stella’s shoulder. “I’m glad to see you.”

Stella raised her eyebrows. “You don’t need to act so surprised. This is where I said I’d be.”

“Well, you’ll understand I’m a little worried both my daughters disappeared yesterday. I’m grateful at least one of them showed up.”

“Ryan’s perfectly fine,” she laughed. “I hung out with her and her friends all day yesterday. She was having a great time. Honestly, when you have a breakup like she did, you just need a minute to mess around, right?”

The mother just furrowed her brow, not convinced but not sure what to say to refute it. The dad, on the other hand, gave me a quick, polite nod and said, “Thank you, we’ll be good here.”

Stella sat up straighter before I could respond, turning to him, but I noticed she couldn’t quite look him in the eye.

She’d never said what exactly her big fight with him looked like, but it must have been even worse than I thought if even Stella couldn’t face him.

“No way. Allison was just telling me about the artistic and cultural offerings here on the island. She’s an artist too, so she’s involved with a lot of the workshops. ”

Oh, god, way to put me on the spot. I stiffened, especially when the dad gave me a dark look, but the mom smiled sweetly at me.

“Oh, is that right?” she said. “My sister Helena and I used to go to a painting class every week, and I’ve missed it.

Do you have a recommendation? I’d love to try it out again. ”

Okay, well—if Stella’s mom wanted to talk to me about painting workshops here, that was one of maybe two things I could actually manage talking about.

All in all, they weren’t actually too bad, probably because there was a staff member here to keep them behaving properly.

Stella’s mom Elizabeth was chatty, and her dad Mark was not, so I brought around coffee and fruit for all of them too and made conversation mostly with Stella and Elizabeth.

By the time the parents packed up and left, preparing for a big shopping trip—Elizabeth told Stella you’ll be coming too, of course, and Stella said only if you want me and Grandma to kill each other, and it wasn’t long before Stella won—Stella looked at me with a grateful smile, a little more shaky than I’d realized she was hiding away under the surface.

“Thanks, Allison,” she said softly, standing up with me. “That was a million times better than it would have been otherwise.”

“I don’t know about all that. I just talked about workshops.”

She stood closer to me than she really needed to, and my heart beat heavily in my chest—she was a few inches taller than me, close enough that I didn’t really think of it normally, but when she stood this close, I had to tilt my head up, and it made it feel like I was getting lost in her.

I had been since the moment she checked in.

“You know,” she said, a small, playful smile dancing on her lips, “you look so different in your uniform.”

“Ah, uh, huh. Yeah. I’ve been told that.”

“You look pretty like this, too, though.”

“Um. Thanks. You too. I mean, not in my uniform, that’s… well, it would probably be the wrong size for you. I mean, your outfit, well, it’s just… cute.”

She winked. “Flirting the second my parents are out of the room.”

Oh, god. My mouth was dry. “Well, better than the second earlier.”

She laughed, and my stomach dropped when she adjusted the collar on my shirt.

“They could deal with it,” she said, and she let her fingers linger on the corner of my collar, hovering there, before—I about got a heart attack when she tugged on it, pulling me lightly towards her.

“Shall we get you back to your spot on the desk?”

“I… guess. This was more fun than the usual work though. Maybe you can request private services more often.”

She smiled wider, raising her eyebrows. “I didn’t think this was that kind of resort.”

What the fuck was I doing? Practicing flirting. Was this practice? Jesus. “We can make special exceptions for special guests.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” she said with a wink, stepping back, leaving me reeling as she did.

Right. Yeah. Keep it in mind. So would I. Every night.

We walked back to the lobby, making conversation as if she hadn’t just been standing two inches away talking in a low, sultry voice about private services , and I about collapsed behind the front desk once she left to get back to her room.

And of course that was the state Gavin found me in, and he watched delightedly as I fielded a conversation with two of the guests while I tried to keep it cool, but Gavin knew me too well to buy that act, and he laughed the second they were gone.

“Good massage?” he said, and I groaned, a hand to my forehead.

“She wants to help me get a hookup.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Congrats.”

“Not with her. She’s straight. Which means she was all like… oh, so that means it’s not weird if you practice flirting with me. ”

“Practice flirting,” he repeated. “Isn’t that just flirting?”

“That’s certainly what it feels like, Gavin. Can I take a break? A long one. Specifically the rest of eternity. I’m going to go drown myself in the pool.”

“I’ve got you scheduled for the top of the hour, but I was only able to put you down for thirty minutes.”

“Dammit. It was worth asking.”

The rest of the hour was great, though, because it was quiet at the desk, and Stella was texting me asking about my paintings again, and I got to send her some pictures I’d taken of them, and I felt like I was the best painter since da Vinci when she gushed praise about them.

Not just generic praise, either—she clearly had a good eye and picked up on the details, zeroing in on everything I’d put extra care into and talking about the color harmonies, and I was all bubbly and floaty when I got out to the pool bar for my break to find Brooklyn there, slotting in across from her.

“Hey, Brooklyn,” I said cheerfully. “How’s stuff with you and Ryan?”

She smiled, and she leaned over the bar, arms folded, and she swept my feet out from under me with, “You’re in a good mood. Stella came around and you got to flirt with your hopeless straight crush?”

I thought I might have died on the spot. “What—do you—huh? Who?” I blurted, voice reedy. “Stella? What do you, uh… what?”

“So, that’s your type, huh?” she laughed. “You did say you liked pretty girls. Guess it makes sense you’d go for someone super femme like her.”

“I’m not—uh.” Jesus Christ, I wasn’t getting out of this. I slumped over the bar. “Kill me.”

“Could always go in the back,” she said, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder towards the back of the bar. “Laura’s cleaning in a hurry, which means she’s probably knocking over shelves, throwing glass bottles…”

I groaned. She patted my shoulder.