Page 3 of The Other Side of Paradise (Story of Paradise #2)

Stella

I guess I was a hypocrite, because I’d complained about getting pulled away from my life to come to some random-ass island for a big family reunion , but sitting here on the beach with a pina colada and my toes wriggling in the warm sand, watching the waves roll over the beach as the sun dipped low on the horizon—well, I guess I didn’t hate it.

I adjusted my sunglasses when a shadow moved next to me, and I braced myself for Dad coming around to try making another point about something, but I relaxed when I looked up and saw my older brother Oscar dropping his towel on the sand beside mine and sitting down.

“Cheers,” he said, clinking his glass to mine—a clear drink that was probably a gin and tonic.

All he ever got, a crotchety seventy-year-old man stuck in the body of a twenty-six-year-old.

“It’s quieter over here,” he said by way of explanation—he wasn’t exactly the type to approach you to have a conversation.

He was nice enough—I know older siblings were supposed to bully you and all that, but he and my sister Ryan were twins and had always been preoccupied with bothering each other instead.

Mostly I was just one of the people he disliked talking to the least.

“You could go swim or something if you want to get away from people,” I said, meeting his glass with mine and taking a sip, settling in.

The cool breeze coming in off the water felt amazing against the heat, and the beach was suitably lively, families with their kids spread out across the sandbar.

Oscar made a face at it all before sipping his drink.

“Swimming’s not my thing.”

“Do you even have a thing, aside from standing off to the side absentmindedly judging people?”

He grinned. “What, am I supposed to have two things? I like the one I’ve got.”

“You and Ryan are both so boring.”

“What’s with the scowl, anyway? You’re sitting up here looking like you guess you can enjoy a sunny beach vacation.”

I guess it made sense Mom and Dad had tried to contain my little hissy fit about not wanting to come out here. God forbid literally anything in this family looked like it was out of place. What did it matter if people hated it, as long as it looked okay?

Ah, what the hell. I was trying to be angry, but there were ocean waves and a drink in my hand. The worst I could manage was a pout. “I mean, it’s a nice getaway,” I said. “I just don’t like being forced to take a vacation.”

“It’s summer. You’re in college. Don’t tell me you were planning on taking summer courses.”

I swatted him with the sunscreen bottle next to me. “Don’t say it like I’m too dumb for classes.” I turned back to the water. “I guess nobody tells anybody anything around here. I’d had an internship lined up.”

“Huh.”

Sometimes I forgot he asked as many follow-up questions as a scarecrow.

“I’d been looking forward to it,” I said.

“But Dad didn’t like it… said it wasn’t a serious company, not a good use of my time.

” I looked down, absently drawing shapes in the sand.

“He’d been trying to tell me for a minute to do something different with my summer…

I think he was all too happy to have an opportunity to interrupt the internship start date with mandatory beach vacation. ”

“What, you lost the whole internship because of this?”

“Yup. It was competitive, you know? I told them I’d be away for a week and asked if I could start once I was back instead, and I’d barely gotten the words out of my mouth before they were giving it to the next person.”

“Sucks,” he said.

“I know I can just work for Dad’s or Uncle’s companies and get work experience that way, and that’s probably the best way to do it, but…

ugh.” I set my drink down and slumped onto my back, looking up at the sunshine-orange umbrella shielding me from the sun.

“Just get sick of being told what to do.”

“You could have said no. Stayed home and focused on your internship.”

I scoffed. “You ever tried telling them no?”

“I turn down invites to work functions all the time. I just say I’m busy.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, guess it’s different when you’re a man with a real job.

Whatever. I might as well enjoy it now.” I sat up, suddenly anxious to change the subject—like all of a sudden the whole topic had become radioactive in my mind, and the less time I spent thinking about it, the better.

“Do you think Shane’s going to propose to Ryan? ”

He shrugged. “Hell if I know. I can hardly imagine voluntarily signing up to marry someone and spend all my time with them.”

“You’re so depressing sometimes, Oscar.” I looked down the beach to where Ryan was out in the water with Nicole, our cousin on Dad’s side, Uncle’s perfect daughter who had a husband and her own division of Uncle’s company.

I felt like I’d throw up at the thought that I was supposed to end up a little Nicole myself one day.

Maybe that was what had happened to Ryan, too.

She’d been on the corporate ladder, doing well, and then she’d left for some new job writing articles on the internet, something something, I wasn’t sure of the details.

She’d lost about half her income, and Mom and Dad still hadn’t forgiven her—I hadn’t seen her for a minute since then, and I’d expected her to either show up radiantly glowing or looking like a haggard starving-artist with gaunt cheeks and sunken eyes.

I’d been kind of disappointed to find she’d looked the exact same.

But one thing she had stuck with was her relationship. Shane Austen was kind of an egotistical prick sometimes, but he still held onto his solid corporate job, and he was good-looking and the rest of the family all liked him, so I guess he was a good pick. Ryan seemed satisfied with him.

I just didn’t understand why she seemed hesitant to have him propose.

I’d asked her earlier, when she’d shown up at the resort, if she thought he was going to propose while they were here, and she’d basically shrugged off the question, probably not, as casually as anything.

When you’d found the right person—when you’d found the one —didn’t you want to be with them forever?

I couldn’t imagine being with someone for two years and being ambivalent about it.

Maybe I was a hopeless romantic, but I could only imagine I’d know when I’d found what I was looking for.

But Oscar wouldn’t get that. He didn’t like anybody, and he was happy with that.

“You know,” I said, “have you ever even gone on dates with people before?”

He laughed. “Yeah, one time. Won’t be making that mistake again.”

“Yeesh. What’s your damage, anyway?”

“I’m pretty happy, honestly.” He relaxed his sitting posture, taking a long sip of his drink, and stared out over where the tops of the waves refracted gold in the late-evening sunlight. “People are trouble.”

“I mean, yeah. But some of them are cool. I just want to find the right person.”

“Uh-huh. For about fifteen minutes until you get bored of them and move on.”

I shot him a look. “It’s not my fault I’ve only found the wrong people so far.”

“Whatever you like, Stella. Guess it’s moot while you’re stranded on a luxury island vacation anyway.”

I grinned at him. “Probably. But there’s nothing wrong with spending some time with the wrong people.”

He arched his eyebrows at me. “What, hooking up with some bad guy to ruin your life?”

“I’m not into that kind of thing. Just, you know.

” I gestured to the beach, the throngs of people all around.

There were a million sexy people on the beach—tall guys with strong abs out on display, girls with bikini-model builds, all out in their swimwear.

“If I’m being told where to go for a vacation, I can at least choose who to spend a week with while I’m here. Plenty of guys to choose from.”

He gave me a wry smile. “Oh, I see. Vacation fling. You do you, Stella.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. There’s tons of hot girls here. Like, look at her!” I gestured to a few people standing not far away, a tall woman with a cherry-red bikini and sandy-blonde hair in a loose ponytail, all sun-kissed bronzy glow. “In the red swimsuit. She’s hot, right?”

“Eh… you can have her.”

I shot him a look. “What? I’m not… what are you talking about? I’m not interested in her.”

Ryan’s voice interrupted, and I looked back at where she said, “What are we arguing about?” while walking up the beach towards us, slick with water, and dropped down next to me, a bright smile on her features. Maybe I was the only one being a scowling jerk on this vacation.

“Just Oscar the Grouch,” I said. “Are you interested in hooking up with people? Is that why you don’t care if Shane is proposing?”

Ryan wrinkled her nose, settling into the sand. “I’m… patently not. It’s not that I don’t care if he’s proposing, I just don’t think he is.”

“So you do want him to, you’ve just given up all hope.”

“It just still feels early… I don’t understand the rush. Neither of us is going anywhere.”

I sighed, rolling my eyes. “It’s like nobody cares about romance. I feel like the only adult with a bunch of awkward teenagers. You two are supposed to be older than me.”

Ryan gave me a patronizing smile. “Sometimes it’s just more… low-key. You stick around and get comfortable. I think that’s nicer than the new-couple phase where it’s all passion and excitement all the time anyway.”

“That’s just a convenient excuse for not caring. Do you even like him?”

“Of course I do. He’s my boyfriend. Why are we having this conversation?”

“Because,” Oscar said from my other side, “she’s looking for a justification to go hook up with strangers.”

I swatted him again. “I don’t need a justification.

I’m doing it anyway.” I stood up, dropping the sunscreen bottle on my towel and leaving my sunglasses with it.

Back when I’d had prescription sunglasses, I wouldn’t have left them carelessly like that, but these were cheap things—despite what the front desk girl who seemed so nervous I thought it must have been her first day might have thought, I could go just fine without the glasses as long as I wasn’t trying to read anything.

“You two can sit together and talk about work and… whatever you do. I’m gonna go find a cute guy in the water or something. ”

“Uh-huh,” Ryan said, shifting closer to Oscar in my absence. “Have fun, then.”

They moved on instantly to whatever they were talking about without me—work or whatever.

I didn’t get what it was about Ryan. Maybe it was some kind of nominative determinism, where she’d been named Ryan and proceeded to act like she had nothing to do with girl things.

Mom had been expecting the twins to both be boys, and had settled on Ryan and Oscar, and when one popped out a girl, apparently she’d just stuck with it.

I think Ryan got it into her mind then that she was removed from all these silly girl things, always so serious and just caring about work, talking to Oscar and Shane and all the other men.

I spent a lot of time feeling like it was me against the whole family.

Whether it was me versus the twins, me versus my parents, me versus everybody who wanted everything to be business, or me being the only one who wanted to do things her own way instead of following along in the family’s neatly defined footsteps, I felt awfully lonely sometimes for being surrounded by so much family.

The more I thought about it, the better an idea it seemed. One little vacation fling. Even if just to get my own agency back. Dad wouldn’t be telling me how to handle things with my hot summertime hookup.

At least, I hoped to god he wouldn’t.