Page 2 of Until It Was Real

“Why are they…” I trail off as they pass us, chattering away.

“This is beyond exciting.”

“I can’t believe they dropped the kiss rule.”

“I love it. We can vote for whoever we want as the sexiest man on the island.”

“Vote for whoever you want. I’m winning the auction.”

The door slams behind them and it’s quiet once again in the reception area. I return my attention to Sadie.

“I think I made a mistake.”

She shackles my wrist before I can escape. “No, please, don’t go. I can’t work another twenty-four-hour shift. I need sleep. Sleep is my friend. Sleep is good.”

She has no reason to worry. I might have made a mistake, but I’m not going anywhere. Because I have nowhere to go. And I need money. Lots and lots of money. Thus, a job at the motelanda job at the local whiskey distillery.

But – despite copious amounts of evidence to the contrary – I’m not a pushover. And I can recognize an opportunity when it knocks on my door.

“Let’s talk terms.”

“I’ll raise your salary by 10 percent.” When I don’t respond, she rushes on. “And I’ll give you the honeymoon suite to stay in.”

“The honeymoon suite?”

I don’t want to know what the honeymoon suite looks like on an island where women dress up as mermaids and discuss kissing rules as if they’re normal.

“Okay. Fine. The owner’s suite.”

I tap my chin and feign considering her offer when in reality, my heart is trying to beat its way out of my chest. I had resigned myself to living in a dingy hotel room for the rest of my life. The owner’s suite has got to be better. Plus, a ten percent raise. Eek!

I hold out my hand. “I’ll take it.”

“You had me worried there, Dakota.”

“We’re even since I thought I was having a stroke with all this talk of mermaids.”

She giggles. “You’re going to love Smuggler’s Hideaway.”

She sets a ‘Be Right Back’ sign on the desk. “Come on. Let me show you to your suite.”

I follow her out the door and to the left. TheMermaid Motelis set up in a classic motel style with all of the doors to the rooms facing the parking lot. I’d prefer a hotel with a corridor, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“The owners don’t live in the owner’s apartment?” I ask.

“The owners don’t live on the island. I’ve never met them in person,” Sadie says as she opens the door to the suite. “Ta da!”

I glance around. There’s a small kitchen to my left, and straight ahead is a living room with a sofa and a television. The furniture is a bit dated but otherwise it seems fine. Better than what I expected.

“The microwave works, but I wouldn’t use the oven. The last time I tried heating a pizza in there, I set off the smoke alarm.” Sadie continues the tour. “The television works, but if you want to watch anything besides the local channels, you’ll need to sign up for a streaming service.”

I doubt I’ll have any time for watching television, considering I’ll be working two full-time jobs, but I keep quiet. If she knows I have another job, she might not be so keen on keeping me on as the night manager.

She opens the door to the separate bedroom. “You don’t get housekeeping service, but they’ll wash your linens and towels.”

The bedroom is small. The only furniture is a double bed and a dresser against the opposite wall. The bedspread is an ugly brown but I have my sheets and comforter in the car. Besides some of my clothes, the bedding is one of the few items I was able to save from my old life. No one wants to buy used bedding apparently.

“There’s a closet here, and your bathroom is here.” Sadie points to the bathroom door. “I’d stay away from the bathtub. The last time I used it, it leaked water everywhere.”

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