Page 12 of Something Real with the Sea Monster
Jack turns his computer screen and brings up the website. It’s basic, like the one for the Inlet Views. Another family-owned business I’d guess. The setting looks exactly as he described. Rural, tranquil, surrounded by natural beauty.
“Oh that’s gorgeous.” The woman gets out her phone and makes a note. “Thank you. We’ve really enjoyed our stay here.”
The man puts his arm around his wife’s waist. “I think it’s safe to say we’ll be back.”
“I’m so glad to hear that.” Jack tears the receipt from the machine and offers it to the couple, who decline.
“If you take the little coastal road from Uludulla to Conjola, you’ll pass through the national park, and there’s a beautiful little beach there with a very scenic picnic spot.”
“Thank you.” They leave hand in hand with big smiles on their faces, and Jack makes a note on his bookings spreadsheet.
“I’ll send them a follow up email in a week asking for a review and with a discount for a second booking.”
I’m impressed. “I can see why your ratings average over nine out of ten.”
He shrugs. “We like people to enjoy themselves.”
When the rush of morning checkouts is over, I return to the website and Jack goes to supervise the cleaner.
I’m part way through opening a new Instagram account for Inlet Views when an email pops up on my phone.
It’s from Mark.
The subject line is blank.
I frown. It’s Saturday. But I rang in early this morning for Monday. Then I followed up with my two weeks’ notice. I don’t plan on going back. I’m sure I can find a doctor to give me stress leave while I wait out the time.
I guess maybe that’s why he is contacting me. Unless…
Against my better judgment, I open the email.
Tegan,
I’m sorry to disturb you while you’re on leave. I was hoping we could talk. I received your resignation.
Mark
He wants to talk? What does that mean?
Jack comes back into the office and catches me glaring down at the phone in my hand.
“Everything OK?”
I look up. “Oh. Yeah. I mean no. I just…” I trail off. He doesn’t want to hear about my problem. I sigh. “Just have to make a phone call.”
“Sure. Well, I was just going to go make some lunch. You want me to make you something?”
God, this guy. So sweet. My stomach is in knots, so I shake my head. “No thanks. You go ahead.”
With a worried look over his shoulder, Jack heads up the stairs to the residential apartment above the office, and I press call with a shaking hand.
Mark picks up after a few rings. “Tegan.”
“Hi.”
There’s a long pause.
Finally Mark clears his throat. “Thanks for calling, I wanted to talk to you.”
