“It’s fine,” Stella said with an amused smile. Sometimes it paid off to be amicable with her team, and sometimes, like today, the boundaries were too blurred for professional interaction, especially when she herself was the victim of team gossip. She glanced at her watch and cleared her throat. “But we’re not here to discuss my love life, so let’s get down to business. We have a full house again this week but only one large group to worry about. A group of fifteen is arriving late this afternoon, and they’re all women, so I suspect it might be a hen party.” Lisa didn’t just make her forget about the time; she’d forgotten to bring her notes from her catch-up with reception yesterday, so she mentally scrolled through the bullet points she’d written down last night. “Eighty-five per cent of the arrivals are British, the others are European, apart from four Mexicans, so language shouldn’t be a problem. The ratio of women to men is sixty-five to thirty-five which is unusual, so we’ve lowered the beer order and upped the wine. We’re also expecting a larger attendance in the pool classes.”
“Women,” Florence said humorously. “That also means more fresh towels and a million requests for us to move those heavy parasols around.”
“Possibly.” Stella shrugged. She didn’t like to stereotype but as things seemed to be incredibly predictable when it came to Paradise, she tended to go with her gut. Yes, women were generally more demanding, and they tended to get more emotional when drunk. They were also the ones to complain that hairdryers didn’t work, or that the rooms weren’t up to standard and that was totally understandable. Men didn’t care all that much about amenities. All they wanted was to drink a beer in the sun. Stella could tell at first sight who were going to be troublemakers; she’d developed a sixth sense for it over the many years she’d worked in the hospitality industry. It was something about their demeanour on their day of arrival. Some men pranced around like dogs determined to establish their pecking order, talking down to the staff and flirting with other men’s wives. Luckily though, their guests were generally just happy holiday makers, and serious problems were rare.
“As usual,” she continued, “it will be busy until about midday, and then it will be busy again from around three pm after check-in, so try to plan your breaks accordingly. I’ll put a schedule behind the bar, but feel free to swap break times if that works better for you.” She took a sip of her coffee and looked at her team. “Anything you’d like to share? Questions?”
As everyone shook their heads, ten pairs of eyes stared at her curiously. Then Meghan spoke again. “Anythingyou’dlike to share?” A mischievous wink, and then more laughter followed.
Stella tried to keep a straight face as she stared back at her. “No,” she said in a neutral tone. Secretly, she felt a little smug, but no one needed to know that. It was time to focus and stop reliving her delicious sex-filled morning because today would be a very, very busy day and she couldn’t afford to waste any more time.
38
Stepping out of the house, Lisa glanced to the left and the right, eyeing several cafés in the distance, then decided upon the café opposite Stella’s house. The owner, who had spotted her coming out, waved her over and pulled out a chair for her.
“Buenos dias! English?”
“Please. I understand a little Spanish, but I’d probably confuse you if I tried to speak.” Lisa smiled at him. “Sorry.”
“No problem, I’m Carlo. Are you a friend of Stella’s? I’ve seen you coming in and out of her house.”
“Yes,” she said, taking a seat. “I’m Lisa. I’m staying with her for a while.” She pointed to her laptop bag. “Do you mind if I work here?”
Carlo shook his head. “No, no, go ahead and stay as long as you want.”
“Thank you. Stella’s got a great roof terrace but one of her cats loves to sit on my keyboard, so after several failed attempts to fight him off this morning, I thought I’d venture out.”
“Pablo?” Carlo asked.
“Yes, Pablo. He’s so sweet but he’s also decided to be my right-hand man. Helping me type, clear my pens away, clean my screen—even my nose at times and—”
“And stir your coffee?” Carlo finished her sentence.
Lisa threw her head back and laughed. “How did you know about that?”
“Stella told me and then I found out first-hand when Pablo became more confident in his new habitat and started venturing into my territory. He got friendly with my customers; sat on the free chairs and all that, but I had to be strict and chase him away as he started making a habit of sticking his paws in the milk foam on the cappuccinos and stealing their cookies.” Carlo’s eyes narrowed into slits as he looked up at the thatched roofs opposite them and grinned. “There he is, the fat coño. I don’t know what Stella feeds him, but he’s still growing.” He pulled a notebook and a pencil from his back pocket. “Anyway, what can I get you?”
“An iced latte, please. And anything sweet you recommend,” Lisa added.
“Something sweet? Do you like walnuts? Have you tried casadielles?”
“No, I don’t think I have.”
“Okay, then you need to try it.” Carlo went back inside, leaving Lisa in the blissful silence of the morning. She opened her laptop and saw there were another four emails from headhunters, but the subject lines did not look promising. A woman joined her on the table next to her, and she gave her a smile.
“Good morning. It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” she said in a Northern English accent.
“Yes, wonderful.” Lisa turned to her. The woman was in her sixties, she guessed. Her dark hair was white at the roots and going on her tanned skin, she was a sun-lover. She wore a short, purple strapless dress and gold sandals, and her nails were painted in the same shade of purple. Despite her typical British appearance, Lisa sensed that she was part of the community here, from the way she interacted with Carlo when he approached her, and her fluent Spanish when she ordered an Americano. “Do you live here?”
“Yes, I live nearby and I love to have my first coffee here if the weather permits. I’m all for starting my day in the best possible way.” The woman smiled at her and held out her hand. “I’m Delia. Are you local?”
“No, I’m just staying with a friend. I’m Lisa,” Lisa said, shaking her hand.
“Nice to meet you.” Delia’s attention shifted to Lisa’s laptop. “Are you one of those fancy bloggers?”
“I wish.” Lisa laughed. “I’m job hunting, actually. No luck so far,” she said. “But I was thinking of looking into some local opportunities today, just to keep myself busy until I find something long-term.”
“Really?” Delia moved her chair away from the shade of the parasol and stretched her legs out. “I’m not surprised you want to stay. A lot of people who come here either return shortly after or never leave.”
