Page 64 of A Quick Stop in Paradise

I folded my hands on the bar top, eyes narrowed, studying her. She knotted her brows together, eyes softening.

“Please.”

I sighed. “I will,” I said. “But I’m not doing anything more than that. Just relaying the message. What she does with that is her decision to make.”

She shifted. “I just want to make sure the family is okay. There’s a lot going on.”

“I don’t know why you’re telling me. You don’t need to convincemeof anything.”

She sighed, turning away. “Right. I guess so.” She hung her head. “Okay. Well. Thank you for telling her. Tell her I’ll be here if she wants to talk. And that I’ll try to listen.”

“I will.” Mostly because she seemed to recognize she was wrong, even if she was having a hard time admitting it out loud. Guess it was a skill you had to practice.

Still, I was alittledisappointed. Ryan probably wouldn’t be as keen to have sex after I’d passed along a message from her mother. Maybe later tonight.

Chapter 17

Ryan

Ipushed the laptop away, leaning back in my chair—Brooklyn’s chair, up on her terrace, where she’d promised I could stay here and write my days away all I liked, and I’d been making good on that promise. Except now I was stumped, finding myself staring away from the screen and out at the long, bulky clouds drifting over the edges of the ocean, far on the horizon.

Not even stuck on the writeup, a thousand sources and documents I was working into compiling into one overarching story I’d been working on as a deep dive into systemic corruption and abuse in women’s shelters. That was fine, just coming along slowly in the face of everything. I was stuck on something much harder: a personal update.

I always made a point to stay professional with my readership and try to separate my life and work life, but there were always, inevitably, parts of my personal life that slipped through—a mention of taking time away to attend a family wedding, how work would be slower while I was moving apartments, and of course, references to my partner, all of which were quite… outdated now.

I only ever used that word,partner.Not to be gender-neutral—I referred to him ashimfreely—but because sayingmy boyfriendfelt like I was fifteen years old. Looking at it from that angle, maybe it wouldn’t be the strangest thing to have a woman for a partner, say something about spending a weekend with a partner andherfamily. I’d entered into all of this with Brooklyn just to experience what it would be like with a woman before I went back to the real world, but now I burned with indignation at the thought that I’d just have to stuff it all back away into a corner, go pretend to be a good heterosexual woman.

Of course, I didn’t like to think about when I left, anyway. I was finding myself increasingly attached to Brooklyn, and increasingly reluctant to wrap this up tidily with a bow on top. But… well. We weren’t exactly in the right places in life to do anything more than that.

Which brought me back to my problem: I had no idea how to describe my life situation in a professional context right now. What could I say that I would feel right sending into people’s email inboxes?

By way of distraction, I went and busied myself with my phone, at just the right moment—or maybe at just the wrong moment—to see a text come in from Shane.

Ryan, please talk to me, it’s important

I sighed, pushing the chair back and standing up, walking to the edge of the terrace and leaning out, looking over the water, palm trees swaying on either side like a perfect framing shot for a tropical paradise marketing campaign. I knew I should have ignored him, like I’d been doing—not even opening his dozen messages since I’d broken up with him—but maybe it was the antsy feelings thinking about the bigger picture of my life right now that provoked me into responding.

I think I’ve already told you everything you need to hear

He wasted no time in typing,We should meet and talk in person

I wrinkled my nose.I don’t feel like it

He called. I declined it, and he called again, and I don’t know how he got under my skin so easily, but it got to me enough to pick up. “What do you want?” I sighed, and he spoke curtly.

“Ryan, your aunt is getting the police involved.”

Of course she was. I drummed my fingers on the railing. “Well, if an officer comes around looking for me, I’ll say hi. Nothing they can really do.”

His voice was explosive when he said, “Do you think of anybody but yourself? Your entire family is devastated and a whole vacation is ruined because you’re running away for casual sex like a petulant teenager?”

I smiled. “Oh, it’s not casual sex. It’s some very intense sex.”

I heard him draw in a shaky breath down the line, struggling to let it out slowly. “Ryan, for the sake of your whole family, I’m begging you to come to your senses and act like an adult.”

“I thought you were leaving the island? Changed your mind?”

“I’m stuck here cleaning up your fucking mess.”

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