An older boy runs by the little girl, brushing his arm into her side. The rest happens in slow motion. The little girl loses her grip on the ice cream, which causes her to release the string from the balloon.
Since this all plays out right in front of us, we’re both watching, waiting for the girl’s reaction. Most children might cry or scream, but this little girl looks up to the sky and watches the balloon float away, smiling as it floats away.
She may not be upset, but my heart breaks. “Oh my gosh, no, no,” I say, lunging to help with the ice cream that’s dripping all over her. The ice cream is a lost cause at this point too, but she’s still watching the balloon disappear into the sky.
The mother rushes to my side with napkins. “Sweetheart, here let’s clean you up. We’ll get you another ice cream,” the mother says.
“I hope you like the blue balloon today, Daddy,” she says, waving to the sky.
The mother’s knees give out as she squats down to clean the ice cream off her daughter’s legs, and she falls backward onto her butt. “I’m sorry,” the mother says.
“Let me help you,” I tell her. I take the napkins and continue to clean her daughter up, and then I help the woman up to her feet, finding Noah running toward us. I didn’t know he had left.
He hands the little girl another balloon and a new ice cream cone. “There you go, sweetie,” he says.
“Thank you so much!” The little girl replies, tossing her arms around Noah’s waist. “My daddy doesn’t usually get two blue balloons in one day. He’ll be extra happy tonight.”
Noah’s hand rests on his chest, appearing just as deflated as I feel. Noah hands the mother another handful of napkins. “Are you okay, ma’am?”
She swallows hard and looks up at the sky for a brief moment. “I will be, thank you both for being so kind. It’s only been six months.” The woman notices a tattoo on Noah’s arm, one I hadn’t studied too closely. “What unit?”
“1st Battalion 2nd Marines,” Noah responds.
“Dustin was in five-ten, killed-in-action.”
“Five-ten, huh?” Noah replies.
“A few weeks shy of ten years,” she continues. “Dustin was planning to retire in another ten.”
“We might have been on base together,” Noah tells her. The woman holds the back of her hand up to her mouth and clenches her eyes shut. “Thank you for your service.” Her words come out in the form of a mumble.
“I’m going to give you my number,” I tell her, needing to do something to help in any way right now because I feel horrible for this poor woman. Maybe she needs a friend. “What’s your name?”
“Olivia,” she says through a winded breath. “Thank you.”
Noah pulls a business card out of his back pocket and a pen. “Here,” he says.
I write down my name and number on the back and hand it over to her. “We can have coffee sometime if you’re free,” I offer.
“I’d really like that,” she says, wrapping her arm around her daughter. “Mia, can you say thank you to the nice man for buying you a new ice cream cone and balloon?”
Mia solutes Noah with a cute, twisted face, and Noah squats down in front of her again. “I think you made your dad’s day. Is blue his favorite color?”
“Yes, just like the sky,” she says.
Noah places his hand on Mia’s shoulder. “You’re a good girl.”
“Stay in touch,” Noah tells Olivia.
“Will do, staff sergeant.”
I wonder how she knew he was a staff sergeant, but I refocus on the tattoo as we walk away. “Are those stripes—”
“My rank,” he responds. “I left as a staff sergeant.”
The last fifteen minutes have proven to me that having an insta-crush is a serious issue. I have a weakness for men who will help others, especially children. It isn’t for show; I can see that much. Noah clearly has a big heart. “Do you want to sit down for a minute before we order food?”
“Yeah, if you don’t mind. I just need a second. My heart is breaking for that poor woman.” Mine too, but I can imagine her story hit much closer to home for him than me.
“You’re a good guy,” I tell him. “I like you.”
Noah takes a moment to stare out at the carnival, contemplating whatever thoughts must be going through his head. “Sorry, I lost my focus there for a minute,” he says.
“You don’t have to apologize. Take all the time you need.”
He offers me a look like he’s trying to figure something out about me. “Are you always this understanding?”
“No,” I tell him, laughing because I am probably one of the most impatient people I know.
“You know,” he sighs. “I wish I had asked you out on a date before I hired you.” Hearing this is unexpected, but warms me at the same time.
“Really?”
“My jaw dropped when you walked into the restaurant that first day, but I should not be saying this to you under any circumstance. You work in my restaurant; this is totally inappropriate.”
“I’m okay with it,” I say, sounding like a stupid woman. It is not okay to get involved with a boss. Not ever. Never.
Noah wraps his arm around my shoulders, and I glance to the side, catching his gaze. My heart thumps, and I recall the flutter I felt in my stomach when I stupidly thought he was going to kiss me, rather than pick up my key from the sidewalk. I hate that I like him as much as I do. It’s an unfortunate situation to be in.
“How do you feel about rules?” he asks.
“Most rules are an important part of life, but on the other hand, some rules can be fun to break, as long as no one gets hurt,” I tell him with a raised brow.
Noah leans in an inch, maybe two. I can smell mint on his breath. “Don’t hate me for saying this, but you're gorgeous.”
“You’re my boss,” I whisper sinfully.
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” he replies in the same hushed whisper.
I bite down on my bottom lip, and he nods his head and closes his eyes. “Shit.”
“What’s the matter?” Oh my God. What did I do? I want to test my breath. What if it’s rank?
“Ashley, I have to be honest with you. I live in one of the villas. I didn’t want to lie to you, but I don’t want to be pre-judged either. I’m not sure what you know about the guys living in the houses, but all of us have very different reasons for being here—being a part of the social study. I’m sure you have preconceived notions at this point, but make sure you give everyone a chance before assuming the worst, okay?”
I stop walking because I need a minute to digest what he said. I take a seat on a nearby bench and lean back against the seat. “Were you in my house last night?”
“Back row, second from the left,” he offers.
“Is this all an act?”
“No, we’re all real people with real lives. I can’t say more, though.”
I feel like I just took a football to the chest. For a second, I thought Noah might not be crazy like the others, but now I just have a bad taste in my mouth. “See, this is my problem, Noah. No one can tell me the truth, even though everyone is ‘real.’ I don’t know how anyone expects me to be okay with this. I feel like I’m on some kind of reality show or that movie with Jim Carrey, where everyone watched his life unfold on TV. Everything feels staged, and I don’t know how to trust anyone.”
Noah takes my hands. I should pull away, but I don’t.
“I understand. Sometimes in life, we have to trust our instincts though and realize everything happens the way it does for a reason.” He seems to have a distinct reason for everything he does, but I’m more confused than ever now.
“What was your reason for agreeing to this thing, Noah?”
He drops his head into his hands and shakes his head with frustration. “Trust me; you don’t want to know.”
Chapter 14
I’m good at walking away.
I don’t know what I’m feeling at the moment, but my emoti
ons have been toyed with enough today, so I told Noah I need some time to be with my thoughts, and I left him at the carnival.
Between the restaurant and the villas, I find a rock to rest on and I pull my phone out to send Bradley a message.
* * *
Me: I’m leaving tomorrow. I didn’t agree to be held hostage here.
* * *
Bradley is quick to respond, and I can only assume it’s because he’s been waiting for this message.
* * *
Brad-Bro: Give it one more day, please.
* * *
Me: ?
* * *
Knowing the conversation ended before it truly began, I attempt to give Mom another call.
To my surprise, she answers the phone. “Ashley?”
“Mom!” I shout, thrilled to hear her voice. “I tried to call you yesterday, but the phone was disconnected or something.”
“Oh, yeah, honey, Dad thought it would be good to buy us new phones, but didn’t think to have them set up at the store. It was a mess.”
So I wasn’t being blocked from calling them.
“Mom, Bradley set me up to live in a development full of single, desperate men. They’re lunatics. Did you know what he was up to?”
She doesn’t respond to my question. I don’t even hear breathing on the other end of the phone.
“Mom?”
I pull the phone away from my ear and notice the call is now disconnected. The urge to throw my phone into the ocean is growing larger by the minute.
This situation reminds me of the time Bradley persuaded Mom and Dad to take technology away from me for a week, which would ultimately prove an increase in my grades. They couldn’t even see through the fact that Bradley was just a jerky older brother. He saw himself as a parental figure to me from the time I turned twelve. I don’t know what made him think he needed to have authority over me, but I’m not having it anymore.
It only takes me a few minutes to get home, and my sights are on my pink-polka-dotted suitcase and the two black cases that finally arrived yesterday. I haven’t exactly settled into this room, which means packing away my clothes won’t take long.
“What are you doing?” Kricket asks, poking her head into my room.
“Packing. I’m leaving.”
“Don’t leave,” Kricket says in a drone before walking in uninvited.
“Look, I don’t care if we’re going to be in-laws, you two have been flat-out rude to me, and the men around here are freaking me out. This is not what I thought it was going to be.”
Kricket plops down on the edge of my bed. “I know you didn’t read the fine print.”
I throw the pile of clothes from my hand up into the air. “NO, I did not read the fine print. I’m an idiot, okay? Happy?”
“They didn’t think you would,” she says.
“Who?”
“Bradley and Kat.”
“Your sister doesn’t know me,” I say, enunciating each word.
“Yeah, you’ve said that a couple of times. Look, I’m sorry you got duped into this.”
“It’s not a problem because I’m de-duping myself as we speak.”
Kricket takes my hand, which is mildly weird, but I feel a note slip inside my palm. I have the urge to ask her what it is, but after being told everything is a damn secret here, I know better.
“I don’t want you to leave. We are going to be family, and I know Krow and I aren’t the friendliest people in the world, but I’m asking you to give us a chance.” She couldn’t sound less sincere if she tried.
My right eye is squinting on its own. It’s a twitch. This place is making me twitchy.
“Thanks for the olive branch,” I tell her, sounding snarkier than I intended, but it’s how I feel.
Kricket stands up and leaves my room, closing me inside. Since I feel like there are sets of eyes watching me every second of the day, I slip down next to my bed and face the wall as I unfold the small note and read:
None of us read the “fine print.”
Chapter 15
I was given a little slice of information from Kricket, which just thickens the plot here. I still want to leave, but the anger growing inside of me is conducting a more devious agenda at the same time.
With the clothes I have piled up in front of me, I push back toward the wall and climb under my covers, grabbing a notebook from the small desk beside me.
I jot down the facts I have:
1.All the men are lonely
2.Most seem to have a decent paying job
3.Some seem more than a little desperate
4.They all have different reasons for living here
5.No one can tell me why they’re here or what the social study involves
6.Kricket was trying to torture one with a dominatrix getup that seemed to be frightening the guy
Number six is still confusing me. With all these facts laid out, my remaining questions are what’s in it for the men, and what the research will prove in the end.
I wonder if it’s like a focus group type thing—because those usually offer something in exchange, whether monetary or something tangible.
Noah said he’s trying to keep growing his business, and a person needs money to do that.
The meaning of a study is to test a hypothesis. Therefore, if this is all true, I wonder what hypotheses they could be testing.
They’re all single men who are well-off and volunteered to live in a nice villa on the beach.
Nothing is popping up as obvious here. There are plenty of single, wealthy men living in desirable locations across the world. So, what do they all have in common?
As I’ve been making my notes, the sun has set, and the sound of voices is growing from outside my window. I perch myself up on my elbows and glance out toward the beach.
The guys have a small fire pit roaring, and I see beer and hotdogs on sticks. The scene is way more man-like than the bonfire was. It looks more natural.
I yank off my sweatshirt that’s hanging on the closet door and jog down the stairs, finding the rest of the villa empty. I didn’t hear Kricket and Krow leave, but obviously, they have. Their bedroom doors are open, so I know they aren’t locked up like usual.
As I step out the sliding door, I notice the air is cooler than it was when I got home from the carnival, but it’s pleasant and still a little balmy.
The chatter from around the fire sounds like a low roar before it seems someone notices me, which leads to silence next to the crashing waves.
“Ashley,” a couple of voices echo in unison. Why are they still excited to see me? Haven’t I made it clear none of them stand a chance?
“Hey guys,” I call out. “I wanted to come out here to let you know I’m going to be moving out tomorrow.”
Monkey wrench.
I don’t know who the sounds are coming from, but there are definite gasps of shock.
“I thought we talked about this.” I twist around in search of Kricket after hearing her voice, wondering where she is. I didn’t notice that the girls were down here.
“You talked to me,” I correct her. “Until someone wants to let me know what’s seriously going on around here, I have no desire to stay.”
As if on cue, the men in their beachwear … because they’re usually dressed uniformly per the occasion, line up in their cute little double rows. I hate feeling like I’m on display. “Ashley,” Kricket begins. “These ten men are all here for different reasons, but remain here for one purpose.”
“Let me guess … that’s me?” I squeal obnoxiously.
I hate the way Kricket is smiling at me. “Possibly. These ten men are here to choose between love and money, Ashley.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“The ten you see standing before you were asked to join a social research study. The qualifications to be included are to be single, focused on a career, and driven by the feeling of success. The first six months of the social study required seclusion and minimal contact wit
h the general public, aside from work. Dating and relationships have been off limits. However, phase one has come to a close.”
“And what’s behind door two?” I shout, throwing my arms up in the air. None of this seems surprising at the moment. I feel like I’ve already come close to this conclusion.
“Throughout the next six months, these men will be tempted by an eligible bachelorette. However, they must remain focused on their careers and their original aspirations of success. If they can remain focused on their path without entering into relations or a relationship with our eligible bachelorette, you, they will each leave this social study two million dollars richer. However, if the love bug takes them down, they will have chosen to settle for a type of happiness money cannot buy.”
My blood is boiling and I feel like my body is going to combust into flames. “Are you [BLEEP] [BLEEP] kidding me right now? This is a [BLEEP] joke, isn’t it? We’re on TV, right?” Like the crazy person I’m personifying at the moment, I wave to the invisible cameras that I assume are all around me. “What was that beeping sound? I’m not allowed to swear?”
Kricket grabs my arm and pulls me away from the men. “Stop it. Stop it, right now. You have to stop.”
“Don’t tell me what to do. Are you even my soon-to-be sister-in-law?”
“Yes, I am,” she agrees. “As I said, I only read the part about the free rent and board. I didn’t know more came with the territory. Look, here’s how I see this … there are ten single men. If one of them wants to be with you versus receiving the money, doesn’t that say something?”
“No, Kricket, it doesn’t. They’ve all been banging on the door. So, what gives?”
She presses her finger against her lips in thought. “That’s a good question.”
“If I were in this for money, I wouldn’t be interested in the women who moved in next door.”
The Bachelor Beach: The Love Connection Series - Villa One Page 11