"Miss Griffin," he says. "I see you've settled in. Is everything to your satisfaction?"
"Everything is very nice," I tell him. "My friends and I are just getting ready to take a swim, but I forgot my sunglasses in my bag."
"You wouldn't want that. The island sun can get very intense."
We standoff for a still second before I step around him.
"Well, they're waiting for me, so I better hurry."
"Enjoy your swim, Miss Griffin. And if there is anything I can do for you, please let me know."
I'm strangely relieved when the elevator doors close, and the floor begins to lift.
Chapter Thirteen
“It sounds like they're just trying to be really attentive and offer exceptional customer service,” Sam offers later after I tell him about the encounter with the manager.
I'm sitting amidst a cloud of bubbles in the deepest bathtub I've ever seen, soaking away the chlorine and thick coating of sunscreen from the afternoon by the pool.
“That's probably exactly what it is,” I agree. “There's just something strange about everybody I talk to saying the same thing. But it's even different coming from him. It's almost like he's waiting for me to want something. Does that make sense? Like he's expecting me to ask for something.”
“That's his job,” Sam points out. “He's the manager of the hotel. He's supposed to find out if guests want something and then figure out how to make it happen.”
I let out a sigh that ruffles the pile of bubbles in front of me.
“You're right,” I say. “I'm just still on edge. It's really gorgeous here. You should see Bellamy. She is in her element. We might have found her natural habitat.”
Sam laughs.
“What's it like there?”
“A Barbie playset,” I tell him. He laughs again. “I'm serious. It's perfect. Everything is perfect. Exactly what comes to mind when you think of ‘tropical paradise,’ that's it. The resort is the only thing on the island. We talked to a few of the other guests, and they said the rest of the island is just hiking trails and waterfalls. There are some gazebos around to relax in, and a couple of greenhouses of local flowers, fruits, and vegetables that are actually used for the meals served here. The only people who live on the island are the ones who work at the resort, and they have their own little village on the grounds. It's beautiful. Everything is beautiful. The resort, the plants, the people.”
“Why do I feel like you don't necessarily mean that in a good way?” he asks.
“It's the people,” I say. “Don't get me wrong, some of the other guests we spoke to were really nice. A couple of them say they have been coming here for the last couple of years, ever since it opened. but there are others who… aren't exactly my idea of pleasant. I'll put it that way. They are all young and beautiful and obviously extremely wealthy and used to all the perks that come along with that. The housekeeper taking care of my room even mentioned that some of them are really awful to the staff."
"That's not good," Sam says. Even through the phone, I can hear his furrowed brow and frown.
"No, it's not," I agree. "But she's a sweetheart. Everybody who works here seems to be great. They all bend over backwards to make sure things are exactly the way we expect them to be. It might be a little much for me, but I can see how a lot of people would just lap it up."
"Like Bellamy?" he asks.
"Exactly," I laugh. "She draped out by that pool like the sun was feeding her."
"And you?" he asks.
"The sun does not feed me. I floated around in my thick candy coating of sunscreen and ate the fruit out of all the cocktails the waiters brought to all three of us."
"That's my girl. But I meant, are you having fun?"
"Getting there. I haven't been in a pool in a while, so that was nice. Maybe I just need to get into the groove. Figure out what relaxing and having fun are again," I tell him.
"Stick with Bellamy. She'll remind you," Sam suggests.
"She probably has the entire week planned out already. Speaking of which, she's probably waiting for me. We're going down to the lobby for dinner. And you know I'm not supposed to be on the phone," I tell him.
"I like sneaking around talking to you. It's like we're teenagers hiding under the covers, so our parents don't know we're still up," he teases.
"I will hide under the covers with you any day."
"That's the plan for when you get home. I miss you."
"Miss you, too."
I'm off the phone, dressed, and downstairs in record time, but Bellamy is still waiting for me with an impatient expression on her face. She's ready for the evening with fresh makeup, styled hair, and a dress that accentuates her long figure.
“Where were you?” she asks.
“Did you get the room with the time converter or something?” I ask. “How can you possibly be that put together in that amount of time?” I hold up my hand to stop her before she answers. "Never mind. You're an efficient vacationer. Where's Eric?"
"Taking his sweet time too," she answers.
Her eyes shift to the side, and I follow them to notice two guys a few years younger than us looking back over their shoulders at her as they walk past. Just as they are out of sight, a man a bit older comes down the path and makes no qualms about looking Bellamy up and down before continuing.
"How does that feel?" I ask.
"What do you mean?" she asks.
"Knowing all you have to
