Page 45 of The Other Side of Paradise (Story of Paradise #2)

He pursed his lips. “You know,” he said after a minute, “it’s been a long time now since you first started working here.

You were so scared then. Thought it was just, you know, first day first job nerves, but realized later on it’s bigger than that…

” He leaned against the desk, staring out to infinity.

“You were on the run, weren’t you? Hiding from something you’d never dared to defy before. ”

“I mean… yeah, kinda.”

“It was damn brave of you. You’ve come a long way. Much more settled in who you are. But your younger self has some wisdom too, in how she owned that bravery, that choice. Do her the favor of respecting that.”

I squeezed my hands, looking down at them with a thick knot in my stomach. “I… I don’t know about all that. I was doing what I needed. To survive.”

“You wouldn’t have died physically if you hadn’t. Just emotionally. And lots of people aren’t brave enough, and they choose to stay and die that emotional death. Give yourself the credit that you didn’t choose it.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Stella’s dad wants to talk to you.”

“Mm.” I took a second to actually process what he’d said, and I rounded on him. “I’m sorry, what the fuck?”

“Her dad.” He checked his phone. “He should be getting up to the rooftop spot in a few minutes. I’ll take over on the desk so you can go say hi.”

“Why is he talking to me,” I said, my voice flat and strangled, more of an incredulous statement than a question. He shrugged.

“Oh, probably giving you his blessing to marry his daughter.”

“Gavin.”

“He seemed worried about her. I dunno. He said you were the one who’s been friends with her, and I tried to bullshit non-answer my way out, but he saw through it, so, whoops, sorry.

I wouldn’t tell him if you were on the schedule today, so I told him you’d go see him if you were in.

So if you don’t want to talk to him, you probably shouldn’t be on the desk in about…

fifteen minutes? I don’t know how long he’ll wait before he comes down to look for you. ”

“Oh, fuck me.” But hell, I guess what did I have to lose? For some reason, I wanted to go talk to the man—wanted to go be the one to vouch for Stella, to tell him she was a fully independent young woman who deserved her own base human respect.

That didn’t mean I wasn’t scared shitless, though.

The rooftop was cool and brisk, the temperature a bit lower today, and I was glad when I found the man in question standing under the covered part of the rooftop terrace, shielded from the wind by the tall creeping plants.

I felt sick with nerves, walking across the smooth tile towards him, and when the floor transitioned to wood in the covered section, it creaked underfoot enough for him to look up from his phone and put it away, and he held out a coffee cup.

“Hey. Coffee?”

Stella had told me he’d done that to her. I guess that was just how he greeted people. “That won’t be necessary, thank you,” I said in my best customer service voice, and he pushed the coffee closer.

“Just take it.”

Maybe he poisoned it. I took it gingerly. “Thank you. Er… is there something I can do to help you today, Mr. Bell?”

He sank down on the suede bench seating and gestured me to the other side of the glass table, elbows on his knees and hands folded between his legs.

“Is Stella doing all right?” he said, and my stomach pulled into a tight knot.

Slowly, I sank down across from him, and I dropped the customer service voice, matching his tone.

“She’s doing well. She’s attending an art workshop run by a friend of mine right now… she’s been having a good time on this trip.”

“Tell me Stella’s planning on leaving with the rest of us.”

I mean, I kind of hoped she wouldn’t. “I… have no reason to believe she won’t.”

He looked away. “Well, one daughter starts something, you start to wonder if they both will.”

I frowned. “Ryan’s… not leaving?”

“Not with the rest of us, apparently.” He sighed, a hand to his forehead. “I had a fight with Stella yesterday. It wasn’t enjoyable for either of us. I believe she skipped the family brunch. I did, too.”

“Oh…”

“Apparently I’d missed the part where Ryan stood up from the table, shouted everybody down, came out as bisexual, and said she was booking her own way back.”

“Shit.” I wasn’t supposed to swear in front of a guest. He seemed to be of the same mindset, though, nodding gravely.

“I wasn’t informed of the developments until this morning.”

“Seriously?” I clutched the coffee cup with both hands. I didn’t doubt Brooklyn knew, but Ryan probably hadn’t wanted it getting around. But both Stella and her dad being out of the loop? “Stella wasn’t kidding that the family doesn’t share a lot of info, huh?”

He pursed his lips. “Stella’s one to talk.”

I frowned, overstepping my bounds with zero hesitation. “Sounds like the issue people have had with Stella is that she is talking.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, studying, before he leaned back in his seat, kicking one foot up onto his other knee.

I guess he conceded that point, because he changed the subject.

“Their mother was there and was, as far as I understand, embarrassed. Wanted to try to find a way to get Ryan to come back quietly without stirring up a fuss and without admitting what had happened. Elizabeth’s mother mentioned something about Ryan’s great big declaration at brunch and I had to confront Elizabeth about what exactly that was, and she had a breakdown and walked out the door. ”

“Shit,” I said quietly. “Okay, I can see why you’re stressed.”

“What’s Stella been doing?” he said, his voice not quite there, looking not quite at me. “She’s… well. I haven’t been able to get in touch with her.”

I didn’t know what compelled me to say, “Yeah, I mean, I can see why. It sounds like it wasn’t enjoyable for her when you were in touch.”

He pushed out an exasperated sigh, sitting forward. “I’ve been doing what I can for the family.”

“No, you’ve been yelling at Stella. She wants to tell you how she feels. I mean… I know it sucks, but you have to take a second to listen instead of trying to counter with how you feel.”

“It’s not about how I feel, ” he said, his voice going a tick too loud. I cringed a little, but I held my ground. I mean… it was for Stella, after all. “It’s about what’s the decent thing to do.”

“I get that… but it’s about what you feel is the decent thing to do. And she’s doing what she feels is the decent thing to do. She’s standing up for Ryan. And for herself. She’s… you know, telling you what you need to know to make that connection with her… you know, work.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And in your mind, I should just nod along with whatever she says.”

“No. I mean, not necessarily. It’s fair to also express what you need.

But… you have to take turns, right? Listen to her and try to give her what she needs, and then once that’s settled, you can do the same the other way around.

Otherwise you’re just yelling at each other and not getting anywhere.

” I paused. “Stella’s… I mean, Stella’s a reasonable woman.

She just wants everybody to lay out what they’re actually thinking.

For everyone to meet on some common ground. I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

He stared at me for a minute before he put his hands on his knees, pushed up to his feet, and stood at the railing.

His shoulders sloped down, his frame suddenly looking half the size, as he stared out over the botanical gardens below, and finally, he said, in a thick, hoarse voice, “I said some things I shouldn’t have said. ”

My chest tightened. Anxiously, I stood up, walking over to join him, questioning every step, if I was doing the right thing.

“I think we all have,” I said. “And I’ve…

not said some things that I should have.

The thing that matters is what you do after, right?

I mean… Brooklyn’s always told me it’s not about what happens, it’s about what you do with what happens. ”

He hung his head, and he gave me a strange little smile out of the corner of his eye. “You’re a pretty good kid.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m… I’m turning twenty next month.” If you referenced your age by talking about how soon your next birthday was, you were young. He chuckled.

“I am thirty years older than you.” He looked back to the gardens.

“But you’ve got a better head on your shoulders than I do.

Maybe it’s that I’ve been stuck in all this…

” He gestured to the air, like he was talking about the island, but I don’t think it was the island.

“For most of those past thirty years. You get stuck in a given thought pattern.”

“Yeah… I get that.”

“Been in a lot of cycles for thirty years?”

“Oh, tons.”

He turned to lean back against the railing, studying me. “Brooklyn,” he said. “The bartender, right? Is that the woman Ryan is seeing?”

“Oh, um, she, uh, I don’t… I don’t know…” I scratched my head, looking away.

“You’re not very good at lying.”

“I just have an itchy scalp.”

He didn’t say anything. I sipped the coffee. It wasn’t poisoned.

“Yeah, that’s her,” I mumbled.

“What’s she like?”

“She’s a really good person. Just don’t tell her I said that.

” I laughed awkwardly, leaning against the railing and drinking the coffee slowly.

“Most of us are working here because, you know, we’re figuring things out, we’re making it work here while we try to get to something better, but Brooklyn could be anywhere, doing anything.

She’s clever, dedicated, talented. She’s here because she loves the place.

She’s very… authentic. Very real. But always fair.

My parents weren’t… there for me, and she’s kind of been like a supportive family for me in ways I didn’t get to have. ”

He sighed. “And Stella’s been spending her time with you and the two of them.”

“Yeah. You know, we’ve been hanging out on beaches, getting food, painting—I’m in art school, and she’s a really good artist too.

So we’ve genuinely just all been having a really good time, the four of us.

I mean, Ryan and Brooklyn are, well—they say it’s casual.

They’re trying to make it casual. I don’t think they’re doing the best job, though. ”

“Hm.” He didn’t say anything else, just a long breath, eyes out on the horizon.

“But they’ve been happy. Everybody. Me too.

She, uh… Stella, I mean, that is. She’s really one of the best people I’ve ever known…

” I looked down. “She’s so intensely creative, passionate, and never afraid to say what’s on her mind.

But it’s never in a way that’s hurtful, just…

she really just genuinely cares about people and it rolls off of her in a way that can never be faked. She’s really… really amazing.”

He nodded, slowly, looking back out to the horizon.

“You did a good job with her,” I laughed quietly. “And I guess this part is difficult, but I think it needs to happen. I think… you can do it right, even if it’s not easy, and be a lot closer with her for it. She wants that. And she’s worth it.”

He spoke lightly, saying with a carefree ease, “Next you’ll be telling me you’re seeing her. ”

“Huh—” I stood rigid, hand clenching on the coffee. “N-no. No. Huh? No. Me and Stella? No. That’s not, um… it’s… no.”

Shit, shit, shit. I needed to shut up. He looked at me with his eyebrows raised, and I burned. I needed to fix it. That was too obvious. I couldn’t keep just saying no. I had to change the subject. I looked past him and saw the garden, and I pointed.

“The… did you know the botanical garden here contains over 250 different species of native plants?”

“Does it,” he said flatly. Why the fuck did I go with the botanical garden brochure? I burned.

“With ten being endemic species whose only habitat in the world is this island.”

“Mm.”

“It’s a beautiful place to visit.”

“Are you sleeping with my daughter?”

“Which one?” My voice came out way too high.

He stared, and I put a hand over my face.

“Jesus Christ, I wasn’t trying to—I didn’t mean to—no.

” Humiliating myself was okay at this juncture, just so long as I had any vaguely redeeming shot at maybe outing Stella a little bit less.

“No, I just have a huge crush on her. I should be so lucky. But she’s straight, so I’ve just spent this whole time together having a heart attack every time she talks to me, so, um…

yeah, you can take my word for it when I say she’s a really good person. ”

He stared for a long while before he let out a short laugh, turning back to the horizon. “Well, she had apparently been talking about wanting to have a… vacation fling. I figured at least better it was someone with a lick of sense in her head than that meathead lifeguard she was talking about.”

Oh. Uh. Huh. Maybe he was okay with it. Did that mean he approved of me sleeping with Stella? I mean… probably not. He only said a meathead would be worse. I was pretty meatheaded, but I wasn’t going to say that. “I, um, appreciate it.”

He hung his head. “Can you tell her I’m sorry?

I know you’re right. I don’t want to be the kind of person for her that her grandparents are.

She told me I… was… infantilizing her. That I got an image of her when she was a child, and I’ve been trying to force her into it.

And I guess I deserve that. I just… want to do better.

I’m sick of everybody talking behind each other’s backs, too. ”

I softened, leaning against the railing with him, breathing in the cool wind that swept off the ocean, mixed in with the scent of the garden.

And its 250 unique species. “I think she’ll really appreciate that,” I said.

“I don’t know if she’ll be ready to address the whole thing right now, but… I think she’ll appreciate that.”

He pushed off from the railing, turning back towards the stairs. “Thanks, Allison. I appreciate it. Just don’t hurt her.”

“Huh—” I shot him a look as he walked away. “Hurt who? Stella? What… why would I? What do you mean… huh?”

He didn’t answer, disappearing down the stairs, and I burned with awareness. Did that mean—was he—as in, like, that I was dating her, and he wanted me not to do anything that would hurt her? But then—if that were—huh?

I wasn’t thinking about it. Nope. Not thinking about it. Nope nope nope.