Page 53 of Paradise Pride

“He’ll start feeling it when he hits thirty.” Stella flinched when the music came on, louder than usual. Manuel’s old-school house tunes were close to unbearable in the morning, but it got the guests going, so Stella let him play them. Then there was a lot of back noise from the microphone until his voice blasted over the speakers. “Test, test, test! One, two three, test.”

Simultaneously, two of Florence’s colleagues opened the pool gates and guests flooded in. Some went straight to the sun loungers for a nap after breakfast, while others headed for the bar. It was easy to pick out the new arrivals; they were still pale in comparison to the rest, a few almost translucent looking. The staff regularly had bets on about who would get the worst sunburn, and Florence often worried about them. She was startled when Manual turned to the microphone again.

“Welcome, guests! It’s another sunny day in Paradise. For those birds of Paradise who have just arrived, get ready for a fun-filled week, starting with the Paradise dive-bombing competition! Yes, you heard that right. We’re going to make some serious splashes. My name is Manuel, and in an hour, my little assistant Flo and I will host the competition to beat all competitions, in which you will have the chance to be crowned the Dive-bomb Master of Benidorm! Are you ready? You’d better be ready because it’s about to get very, very wet.”

Laughter filled the poolside and Florence rolled her eyes. “Little assistant? Really?” She dropped the file into her bag. “Thank you so much for this, Stella. I’d better go take him away from that microphone. I think the power is going to his head.”

53

Meghan

It felt surreal to be back at work. Even though Meghan had only been away for two weeks, the significant changes that holiday had caused within her made it feel like much longer. Her shared office that always brought her comfort now seemed like a relic from a former life. Two weeks was nothing, but she was a different person.

“Welcome back,” Frank, the account manager, said, getting up from his seat to greet her. “How was the hols?”

“Yeah, how was it?” Louise, the head of HR asked as she glanced up from her screen. “Nice weather? You caught the sun—you look good.”

“Thank you, it was lovely.” Meghan hung her trench coat on a hanger and turned on the kettle to make herself a cup of tea. “And yes, it was sunny and warm,” she added, forcing a smile. She felt heavy and sad. It wasn’t just the English weather, of course, although rain had been pouring non-stop since she got back. She missed Florence so much it hurt, and the way things ended didn’t sit well with her. Saying goodbye and leaving it as a holiday romance seemed like the right decision at the time, purely because she was unable to offer an alternative, but now, all she wanted was to talk to her.

“Any love on the horizon?” Louise grinned and raised a brow. “A hunky Spanish hombre, perhaps? I’m telling you, if I wasn’t married, I’d jump at an opportunity to have some fun with someone a bit more exotic than Bert.”

Meghan pretended to root through the wooden box that held a selection of teabags. “No romance. Sorry to disappoint you, Louise.” Eventually, she picked the same Earl Grey she always drank, poured water into her mug and added a dash of almond milk. “What did I miss here?”

“Nothing at all,” Frank said. “Same old, same old, so you might as well indulge us with your adventures. You went with a friend, right? I bet you had some good nights out.”

“I had a good rest, that’s what happened,” Meghan lied, slowly stirring her tea. She didn’t feel like opening her emails and starting her day. As soon as she did, life would go back to the way it was, and she was worried the memories of the past two weeks would fade, blurred by small, everyday challenges that held little significance in the grand scheme of things. She would get back into her routine of working eight hours a day, visit the gym, go home, cook dinner, watch a movie and get her sleep before it started all over again and again and again. Sometimes she’d meet up with friends, and sometimes she’d go for a drink with colleagues after work, but all in all, her life in London wasn’t that exciting. Her nights out with Kim were always fun, but Kim hadn’t messaged her back after they’d returned home, and she’d been cold and distant when they’d parted at the airport. It was unlike Kim to hold a grudge, and Meghan had a horrible feeling something was broken between them.

Taking in the office, she imagined Florence would be hugely disappointed if she saw it. It wasn’t some obscure space in a basement, and there was no safe, let alone a cocktail bar. Instead, it was rather modern with white walls, lots of plants and three cluttered desks. With big windows, it was the only space with sunlight in the building. Normally, Meghan liked that, but today she felt like hiding.

“I’m going to do a round on the floor while my tea cools off. There are a couple of people I’d like to speak to, so I’ll fill you in on the holiday later,” she said, placing her mug on her desk.

“Sure. Don’t forget we have a meeting at ten,” Frank called after her.

“I know. I won’t be long.” Meghan squared her shoulders and painted on a smile as she headed down the corridor and through the staff door onto the casino floor.

The casino itself was atmospheric with dim lighting, night and day. Blackened windows ensured players lost track of time, and the blinking lights and jingles of the slot machines encouraged risky decision-making. Psychology played a big role in how they used synthetic stimuli. Certain undefinable scents subconsciously linked to luxury and money lured players to the higher-stake tables, while the slot machines were placed near the kitchen and the bar so the smaller players would spend money on food and drinks. The fast-paced music made people increase their play speed at the poker tables, and in the VIP room they used classical music to calm the big gamblers. It was a business that could potentially ruin lives, but it also brought excitement and a fun day or night out to many, so Meghan had always been in two minds about it. In the end, the house always won. Well, not always, but long-term, no one made a profit from spending much time here. Some part of her felt guilty when she saw players get carried away but helping them wasn’t her responsibility. If she banned them, they would simply go elsewhere or gamble online.

Meghan counted herself lucky that she wasn’t prone to addiction, and she had no interest in gambling herself. Again, her thoughts drifted to Florence, and she realised she’d never asked her ifsheliked gambling. Meghan didn’t like her partners to gamble; she was aware she was a hypocrite in that sense as she managed a casino, but it really was a dealbreaker for her. Florence wasn’t her partner, though; she’d left like a coward, and she imagined Florence would soon be over her and move on to someone who wasn’t afraid to own up to their sexuality. That thought made her stomach churn. She should have been braver, but she wasn’t brave, and now she’d lost the only person who had ever made her feel truly alive and desired and safe. Her breath quickening, she leaned against the wall as she pulled at her turtleneck that suddenly felt too tight around her neck.

“Hey, Meghan. Welcome back.” Alycia, the restaurant manager, put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Meghan closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. “Yes, I’m fine. Just a bit dizzy, that’s all.”

“Can I get you anything? A glass of water? I think you should sit down.”

Meghan shook her head and held up a hand. “I’m fine, I promise.” She straightened herself and met Alycia’s eyes. “I was actually looking for you. We need to talk about the budget regarding the upcoming Christmas events. Do you have half an hour now, or shall I set up a meeting?”

“Now is fine.” Alycia narrowed her eyes at her, but she didn’t press the matter. “In your office or in the restaurant?”

“In the restaurant is fine. Let me go get my tea and I’ll join you there in five.” As Meghan walked off, she noted her legs were unsteady. She’d never felt panic when it involved people, but losing Florence made her feel like her soul had been sucked out of her, and unless she found the courage to tell the world, there was nothing she could do to get her back.

54

Florence

“What’s wrong with you, honey? You haven’t touched your food.”

Florence picked up her fork and took a bite of the rice dish her mother had made. “It’s really good, Mum. I’m just not very hungry.”

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