Page 6 of The Other Side of Paradise (Story of Paradise #2)
Stella
Whole family freaked out when Ryan no-showed.
I didn’t know what was going on, but apparently I was supposed to—Aunt Helena cornered me to ask where Ryan went, and then my cousin Caleb asked me if I’d heard anything about Ryan, and then Dad caught me in the walkway that led to my suite, dark out now, almost midnight—Dad was never up this late, but apparently the whole family stressing out had him anxious too.
He was a man with dark blond hair and a solid build, a strong jawline, and dark eyes that were always a little sharp, like someone was in trouble.
He’d always been better at getting us to behave as kids than Mom was, without even saying a word—just the look one time and we were perfect little angels.
I guess he was frustrated now that Ryan wasn’t around to get her in line with a look.
“Hey,” he said, his voice low—he almost never spoke up, always a kind of quiet restraint to it. Kind of made him scarier, in a way. “Did Ryan tell you anything?”
I sighed, rolling my eyes, turning away from the green-lattice walls lined with elegant gold-trim sconces, phone back in my pocket. “No, Dad,” I said. “I didn’t know anything when Aunt Helena asked me two seconds ago, and I don’t know anything now. She’s a grownup, she’s probably fine.”
“Stella, do you want to take things seriously?”
“No, I want to go to sleep.” I gestured to my room door, the number 24 glistening with promise on it. “I know she texted Mom to say she’s just fine, visiting someone, and not to worry, so we can probably take her at her word.”
He pursed his lips into a thin line, two fingers exasperatedly to his temple.
I swallowed past the heavy feeling, knowing I was supposed to feel guilty under the disappointment rolling off of him, but dammit, he couldn’t just dictate how I felt about things.
At length, he said, “Your mother’s very worried. ”
“I’ve noticed. I don’t know what you want me to do. I sent her a text when Aunt Helena asked me. Should I get the FBI involved? Scotland Yard?”
“Did she say anything to you before she left?”
“Uh…” I shrugged, racking my mind. “On the beach. She was heading back to her room. I was staying a little bit longer.” Because I’d gotten pulled into drinks with a table that had a couple of cute guys, and I’d been intent on trying to send signals to get this guy Olamide there to make a move.
He flirted, but then he left it at that, and I was of half a mind to grab the next guy who tried to flirt with me and leave it and just say ask me to dinner, dammit.
I wasn’t telling Dad all that part, though.
“I dunno, everyone was clearing up, so I don’t think she said anything, just went back up.
Everyone else was there too, I don’t know anything more than all the rest of them. ”
He sighed, dropping his hand by his side and turning to the railing that looked out into the dense greenery around the place, folding his arms on the wood and leaning over it. “Stella… we need to have a heart-to-heart.”
Oh, god. This was worse than Aunt Helena trying to get under my skin. I swallowed hard, shifting from one foot to the other. “About what?” I said, my voice prickly, defensive. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”
“I know you had plans for the summer. I know this isn’t what you had in mind. But it’s not appropriate to use that as a staging ground to throw a fit.”
I scoffed, feeling it like a punch to the gut. “Dad,” I said, voice incredulous. “I’m not throwing a fit. I literally don’t know what you want me to do. Ryan’s an adult.”
“Your mother and I have seen the way you’re trying to push back and do whatever you think might… I don’t know. Spite us. But we’d really appreciate it if you made an effort to care about things like this. It’s a slap in the face to all of us, your sister included.”
“What are you talking about?” My face burned, head spinning, a thick feeling in my throat.
I didn’t know if I wanted to scream, punch something, run away, cry, maybe all of the above—my system plunged into some useless fight-or-flight response, and I stood there clenching my fists.
“I’m not doing this to spite you. It’s literally not about either of you.
I just don’t know where Ryan is, and I don’t know what else you want me to do about it. ”
He turned to me with a pointed look, pushing away from the railing, and I felt a sick weight in my gut at the frustration in his eyes—I panicked, and I looked out across the grounds, past the bushes, and I got a rush when I saw a familiar face walking down the middle path, under the glow of streetlights.
The girl who’d checked me in this morning—she was out of her uniform right now, and this was such an annoying customer thing to do, but I was panicked, so I leaned against the rail and called out to her.
“Oh—excuse me! Miss?”
Dad flinched, doing a double take, looking between me and the girl some thirty feet away, who turned and looked like she’d been hit in the stomach when she saw me, her face paling.
“Oh—” she started, fumbling her phone and taking two tries to shove it into her pocket.
“Oh—Miss Stella Bell—Valerie—Stella Valerie Bell, miss, ma’am. ”
This girl was weird. But I really needed her help right now. Dad tightened, shooting me a look, and he spoke quieter. “Stella, what are you doing?” he said, and I shrugged.
“She’s with the staff. I just need a hand.” I turned back to the railing, smiling at the girl. “Hi, sorry. I lost my room key. Can you help out?”
Dad sighed, putting his hands up, and he turned his back to me.
“We’ll talk later,” he said, and he walked away, footfalls ringing on the wooden planks of the walkway.
The girl didn’t even seem to notice he was there.
She seemed to have some kind of issues… I wondered if she was sick.
Guess I was the last thing she needed right now.
“Uh… y-your room key.” She blinked twice, and she nodded. “Yeah. Um. You can go to front desk.”
“There was no one there when I went,” I lied, still watching Dad leave, turning a corner and disappearing.
“What, really?” She checked her phone. “They should still be on… there must have been an emergency or something. They should be back on now.”
I laughed awkwardly, sure now Dad was out of earshot. “Yeah, probably. I was lying, though, I have my room key.”
“Oh.” The girl blinked fast, and she reached up, scratching the back of her head. “I’m… well, I’m glad that’s resolved, I guess.”
I hung my head. “I just needed an out from that conversation… my family’s all so high-strung. You’re not going back to work now, are you? I wouldn’t want to be working with them right now.”
“No, just, uh, the…” She pointed towards nothing. “The workshop. Tile workshop. I’d been there when I had to leave in a hurry and I left something, so I’m heading back now.”
“Tile workshop?” I rested my arms on the rail, relaxing more into it. Weird having a conversation with a girl standing on the other side of a railing and over a row of bushes, but it was a good distraction from my mind swirling. “What, are you making bathrooms in your spare time between shifts?”
“No… I’ve never made a bathroom in my life. That’s more BB’s thing than mine. Uh—forget that. Tile painting. It’s a group activity Sherry runs in the workshop. The tile workshop, I mean. Sherry—er—she’s a friend of mine.”
“Oh yeah? That sounds fun. I’ll check it out. Who should I say sent me?”
“Buh—” She swallowed, eyes wide, and she took a sharp breath before she said, “Allison. Um… that’s my name.”
“I kinda worked that part out.”
“Right. Very intelligent.” She cringed. Clearly not trying to patronize me and regretting that it had come out like that. Maybe she wasn’t sick, just incredibly socially awkward. Why take on a front desk job at a hotel if you were?
The girl—Allison—looked so different outside of her uniform, it was kind of a miracle I’d recognized her.
The uniform was all sleek, pressed perfection, and she was here dressed in a loose graphic tee and faded jeans, chunky ankle boots, her blonde hair let down from the tight bun and falling in messy layers over her shoulders.
She was short, curvy, with a full figure and a soft round face peppered with freckles, big round eyes that made her look a little like a scared puppy, and it was kinda cute, in a way.
I relaxed, smiling at her. “Thanks, Allison,” I said. “Well, I won’t hold you up from getting to your tile workshop, grabbing your stuff.”
“Yeah. You too.” She tightened her expression, realizing her mistake, and I decided to call her on it anyway.
“Yeah, going to the tile workshop and grabbing my stuff,” I said. She hung her head.
“I’m tired. It’s been a long day. You didn’t see me, you didn’t hear me, you didn’t, um… this never happened.”
“Have a good night, Allison,” I laughed, turning and swiping the door open, and I barely got my shoes off inside the suite before I collapsed face-first into the bed, groaning against the mattress.
Dad probably would have wanted me to ask the girl hey where’s my sister at, but I somehow doubted this random girl from reception would know. For now, I just wanted to sleep and pray Ryan showed up in the morning, and that I’d somehow go the rest of the trip without running into Dad once.
I didn’t want to admit how much it hurt, the way he’d talked to me. So I just wouldn’t admit it. I’d carry on like everything was normal, bottle it up until I got back to the mainland, and I’d scream at someone until I felt better. That was a healthy strategy.