More than Me by Sienna Waters

Author:Sienna Waters
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2020-02-19T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Try as I might, I couldn't track Ari down. I knew she was staying, Mads confirmed as much, but I was damned if I could find her. In the end, I resorted to heading to the bar where we'd first met. It seemed as good a place as any. And the little bar was secluded enough that I thought it might be just the place for someone who might want to feel a little sorry for themselves.

“Tequila?” the bartender asked as I pulled myself up onto a stool.

I must have pulled a face because she laughed. “Any chance that I could get a beer?” I asked.

Look at me, asking for what I want. The bartender grinned. “Not much call for that around here, it's all fancy cocktails,” she said, pulling a bottle out of a cooler. The bar lights glinted on the blue streak in her hair. She popped the cap and handed the bottle to me. “Glass?”

I shook my head and took a cold sip.

“If this place wasn't all-inclusive, that beer would be on the house,” she said, leaning on the bar.

The place was empty except for me, the walls open to the night air and the beach. “Free beer sounds like it'd be bad for business,” I said.

“You deserve it after giving Yvonne a telling off.”

“Yvonne?”

“The blonde woman who came in here the other night to give you your room key.”

“Ah, the receptionist.” I flushed a little at the memory, or lack thereof. I knew that I'd demanded an apology from the frosty woman, but not much more.

“Actually, she's the assistant manager,” the bartender said.

Now I was confused. “Then why is she always at reception?”

“Because every receptionist she hires ends up quitting because she's such a bitch,” the bartender said, leaning in further. “She's just mad that she didn't get the manager position when it opened up and now she's biding her time until she's worked out her notice. She'll be gone in a few days, which is why she's treating guests so badly, I guess.”

And I'd thought it was just me. “Sounds tough.”

The bartender shrugged and started to polish a glass. “Resort life isn't for everyone,” she said. “I'm out of here myself soon. It gets kind of stressful. New people all the time. New situations all the time. Every day is different and after a while... Well, I guess I'm looking for a little stability now.”

“So what are you going to do instead?”

I was getting drawn into the gossip. This was the side of things that guests didn't see, weren't supposed to see, and there was something salacious and even naughty about it.

“I'm going to culinary school,” the bartender grinned. “I've been at this game too long. I'm getting too old to be wiping up vomit and escorting drunks to bed.”

I smiled back at her. She didn't look that old, but I could respect her desire to make changes. Changes that I too wanted to make. I was about to ask her how she'd decided on culinary school when her face changed.

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