The Bachelor Beach: The Love Connection Series - Villa One

by Ryan, Shari J.

  Krow’s gaze drifts past my shoulder, and I turn around, finding Kricket in the hallway, waving her hands in a negative formation.

  “Tell me,” I demand.

  “We can’t,” Kricket says. “Sorry, Ash.”

  “Great, well, I’m leaving tomorrow. I’d rather live in a one-bedroom condo in a retirement community.”

  “You can’t leave,” Kricket says.

  “The hell I can’t. I didn’t agree to be a prisoner of this villa.”

  “Well,” she drones. “You kind of did agree.”

  “No, I assure you, I did not agree to this unknown psychotic situation.”

  “Okay, well, you can’t leave,” Kricket says, tucking her hands into her back pockets.

  “Is someone going to arrest me if I try?”

  Kricket shrugs. “I’m not sure what will happen, but I don’t advise it.”

  “Well, thank you for your concern. I’ll be sure to consider that tomorrow.”

  “Don't do it,” Kricket says again. “Just hang in there.”

  “Why?” I yell, slapping my hands against my cheeks. I’m seriously losing my damn mind. “You two are batshit crazy, and all those men out there, I’m not even sure they’re human.”

  I choose to have the last word as I close myself in my bedroom once again, like a child, slamming my door to further highlight my point.

  Chapter 11

  From the time I was old enough to care about grades in school, I was already the weakest link within my family.

  It was seventh grade, second quarter, and I received five B’s and an A. I spotted my name on the honor roll list in the cafeteria. It was like I won the lottery. I studied harder than most others seemed to try, but test-taking didn’t come easy. That day, after I realized what I was capable of, I locked myself in a stall inside the girl’s room. I cried because I proved to myself I wasn’t stupid. I thought maybe I didn’t have a learning disability like my parents silently talked about after they thought I was in bed at night.

  The rest of that school day crawled by at a snail’s pace. I had to wait until five-thirty when my parents would arrive home from work, which just made the day even longer, but the excitement was bubbling by that point.

  They carpooled to work since their offices were within five minutes of each other, so they both walked in through the front door at the same time.

  “Guess what!” I shouted as they dropped their belongings by the door.

  Bradley stepped around me, unknowing of the amazing news I had to share. “So, Harvard wants to interview me for a possible junior year admission to their summer program,” he says it as if it’s no big deal. Like these things just happen for him when he asks for it.

  My parents screamed with excitement, jumped up and down before swinging their arms around his neck, sharing their pride for their genius son.

  I shrugged and muttered, “I got on the honor roll today,” but they didn’t hear me.

  They never knew I hit the honor roll that quarter.

  In hindsight, it wasn’t their fault. It wasn’t even Bradley’s fault. No one knew I had something exciting to share, but it was a continuation of feeling like I was living in a monster’s shadow—a monster I couldn’t compete against.

  Bradley has played the big brother card well, treating me as if I’m a delicate flower that needs to be watched and cared for, which I have always hated. However, now that I’m in this situation because of him, I feel like he just threw me to the wolves for no reason.

  After sitting in my bedroom stirring for a couple of hours, I think back to the paperwork Bradley sent me last week, wishing I read the papers more carefully. I need to know what I signed. I glance down at my watch, spotting the date. It’s the date my shipment of moving boxes is due to arrive.

  I jog down the stairs and peek out the front door to see if there’s a delivery. Shockingly, I see two large boxes. I shipped six, but I can pray my laptop is in one of these.

  With a struggle, I drag each box up the stairs, clunking along the way. Please let my laptop be here. I need that damn lease.

  I tear the flaps open from the box marked fragile and immediately spot my laptop bag, wrapped in bubble plastic. Thank goodness. Funny enough, I swore off this damn machine after my last final a few weeks ago. It’s the reason I didn’t squeeze it into one of the bags I had with me.

  Once I retrieve the laptop, It takes a few minutes to power up, but I thankfully find the document still sitting as a lone file on my desktop.

  When it opens, I recall reading the first part, which I assumed sounded like standard terminology for renting or leasing.

  The document is fifteen pages, which felt like too much to read while finishing up my finals.

  I scroll through again, looking for something that might stand out as odd. It isn’t until I reach page thirteen that I notice a section of type that has a different font than the rest of the document.

  This lease falls under the terms of a social study, taking place within the Bachelor Place, alongside Bachelor Beach. The villa, #1, can be used as a prop for the social study labeled, Bachelor Beach. Tenants will not be included within the typical terms set in place for The Bachelor Place villas.

  •Tenants shall not be harmed from outside influences caused by controlled social interactions.

  •Tenants shall not be directly questioned by researchers involved with the ongoing Bachelor Beach project.

  •Tenants MAY be used as natural habitat sources within the social aspects of outside research.

  •Tenants are prohibited from discussing any part of the social research occurring within the community.

  I read this page at least five times, trying to understand the meaning behind the confusing lingo. Tenants may be used as natural habitat sources. Am I the natural habitat source?

  I can’t just sit with this.

  Neither shoes nor a bra are on my mind when I run down the stairs or out the front door. Knowing where Theo lives now, I run two doors down and knock until he answers.

  The door opens, and he’s in a pair of boxer shorts and a white t-shirt. He looks like he might have been half asleep as he scratches his fingers through his dirty-blonde hair.

  “Hey,” he says, his voice scratchy. “Are you okay?”

  Theo looks around behind me, as if he’s worried about being spotted, then ushers me through his front door.

  His villa looks much different from mine. The space is filled with high-tech modern amenities, a curved TV, track lighting, chrome finish across the appliances and the furniture is leather and chic. Theo’s villa is luxurious. It’s the best way to describe the place.

  He closes the door, and guides me over to his white, leather couch, accessorized with royal-blue throw pillows. “What’s going on?” he asks, taking a seat beside me.

  “Here’s what I know,” I begin. “I’ve stepped inside of some social study that you’re all a part of. Supposedly, I’m not part of this ‘project,’ yet it seems as though I’m the center of it all—without sounding vain—and I after just re-read my lease, I only have more questions.”

  Theo is looking into my eyes but ever-so-slightly shaking his head, telling me no with as little movement as possible. “I can’t,” he whispers.

  “Why, Theo? Are we being watched?”

  “It’s a social study,” he repeats. “I can’t give you any other information.”

  “So, let me get this straight,” I tell him, running my fingers through my hair. “We’re living inside of Facebook and the government is watching us?”

  Theo lets out a soft laugh. “I can’t,” he tells me again.

  “I’m being held here against my free will, Theo. This has to be illegal.”

  “It’s not illegal,” he says.

  “Are you cooking something?” A burning smell stings my nose and I glance around the tidy area in search of a source. I stand up and head for the kitchen, but I’m startled when the smoke alarm begins to blare.

  “Shit,”
Theo says. “Come on. Let’s get out of the house.”

  “Wait? Shouldn’t we see what’s smoking first? Your house could burn down,” I shout, running closer to the kitchen.

  Theo grabs my arm and pulls me away, and leads us toward the front door. “No, there could be a fire. We’ll call the fire department, Ashley. Let’s get out of here.”

  I pull my hand out of his grip. “Hold up,” I tell him. My nose isn’t stinging anymore. “I don’t smell the smoke now.”

  “We should still get you outside,” he says. Theo wraps his arm around me and pulls me in. “Just do what I’m saying, please. I’ll explain more later. There is no fire.”

  “What the hell?” I grunt. “Tell me what’s going on?”

  “Ashley, I can’t.”

  While being distracted by Theo and the fact that we’re being forced out of this house due to a fake fire, I’m spun around so many times I’m now standing on his front lawn.

  Theo still has his arm around me as I come to see several other men staring at us from their driveways. They all look angry. A few of them are gathering in the street to converse, and I’m feeling deflated from the drama.

  Another door slams, and I spin around, finding Kricket barreling toward me. “Ashley,” she calls out. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I respond. Why does she care? “It’s not a real fire.”

  “Well, what the hell is that?” she asks, pointing to the side of the house where smoke is billowing.

  Theo just said there wasn’t a fire.

  Kricket takes my arm and pulls me away from Theo’s side. “Come on, let’s get you away from the fire.”

  As Kricket is pulling me away, the feeling of dread and loneliness are causing me to feel impulsive. I could leave. If I just walk away tomorrow, I can get away.

  “Do you know what it’s like to be held hostage within a secret that no one will let you in on?” I ask her, as we’re approaching the beach behind the villas.

  “Yes, but you’re blowing this out of proportion.”

  “I’m blowing this out of proportion?” I question. “No one will tell me what the hell is going on here, and I can’t make contact with anyone outside of this development.”

  “Ashley, you agreed to this. You’ve been told what you need to know, and no one is stopping you from making phone calls. A lot of this is actually in your head,” Kricket says, looking at me like Im delusional.

  My eyes grow wide as I stare at her blankly. “In my head? Do you have any idea what I’ve seen today alone?”

  “What could you have possibly seen today other than the beach? You’re acting like you walked in on me seducing one of the guys in my nighttime attire.”

  I shake my head, trying to digest everything she’s saying. “Agreed to what? And, you were seducing one of the guys—Tristan. You’re doing this on purpose. You’re trying to make me feel crazy.”

  She ignores it all except for what I agreed to. “Ashley, you agreed to live here, rent-free. Everyone knows nothing good in life comes for free. Everyone also knows that not everything revolves around them.”

  “Ladies,” I hear from a distance. It’s dark on the beach and I can’t make out who the voice belongs to, but I’m quick to see it’s Max as his shadowy figure falls within the moon’s glow the closer he gets to us.

  “No,” I mutter beneath my breath.

  “Are you okay?” Max asks.

  “Yeah, we’re fine,” I tell him. After his presentation of flowers and disgusting pick-up lines earlier today, he’s definitely the last of the men I want to see at the moment.

  Max reaches for me and I pull away. “You must be terrified,” he says, taking another step in toward me.

  “Max, go back to your villa. I don’t need this type of attention from you. I’m fine.”

  “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Great, yeah, I’m fine.”

  “Need a hug?” he continues.

  “No, I need you to leave me alone.”

  “Ashley,” he says, sounding breathless. “I love you and I’m worried.”

  “What?” I snap. “You what … me?”

  “I love you, baby.”

  “Hold up. Back up, back way up, Max. You don’t know me. Not even a little bit. You have done nothing but try to oddly woo me with lousy, gross pick-up lines that make no sense. There is no way in this universe I could love you after knowing you for less than a week and only interacting with you twice, which weren’t great interactions.”

  Max places his hands on his chest as if my words gut him. “Ouch,” he says. “I just—I can really see myself being with you, getting married, having lots of babies. I just—I want this, Ashley. I want you.”

  “Holy psychopath. Dude, go. Get the hell away from me before I call the police.”

  “You don’t want this?” Max continues, waving his hand around his body as if “this” is an object.

  “No, Max, I don’t want any part of you.”

  “Cool, yeah, I understand. Maybe if you give me a little more time, I can prove myself to you.”

  “I’m leaving tomorrow, so there’s no chance of that happening.”

  Max and Kricket share a look that bothers me, like they’re silently agreeing with each other that I won’t be leaving tomorrow. I probably should have kept that tidbit to myself.

  “Max, go back to your villa so I can talk to Ashley,” Kricket says.

  “No problem,” Max agrees. “Love you, babe.”

  No. “No! NO, you do not love me. Go home.”

  “Shh,” Kricket tries to soothe with a breathy hum. It works just as well as a wet mop trying to soak up more water. Not much is going to fix things at the moment.

  “Listen,” she says. “Just hang in there. You’re not in danger. You have free rent. You just got a job. Focus on that.”

  “Why are you suddenly being pleasant to me after being a giant bitch for the last few days?” Yup, I said it. I don’t care. I’ve had it.

  “We’re all here for different reasons, Ashley. Not all of us have great reasons for being where we are, okay?”

  “And I suppose you can’t share your reason with me?”

  “Not now.” Yeah, I figured. “You’re here to focus on earning a living. Do just that and forget about the rest.”

  “It’s hard to ignore ‘the rest’ when I’m being hunted by these hungry men all day.”

  “They aren’t hungry. They’re just a little lonely.” Aw, she makes them sound so sweet and not as terrifying as a goddamn horror movie. Put a Freddy Krueger mask on one of them, and there I am, smack dab in the middle of an all-time unthinkable horror movie.

  Chapter 12

  Beyond my plan to run as far away from this crazy town as I can get, I have to remind myself that I have nowhere to go and I don’t have a whole lot of money even if I had somewhere to go. Therefore, I need to show up to my first shift at The Clam Pit this morning, start work, and keep my focus on just that.

  At least the restaurant is outside of the development, and I can get a break for a while.

  Noah is manning the hostess-stand, alone, when I arrive for my shift. He has similar attire to what he had on yesterday, but with a coral pink shirt instead of the navy blue. The pink brings his eyes out and makes his tan look darker. Of course, nothing truly matters because his shirt is tucked in, and I’m fighting against looking down yonder. What is wrong with me? I’ve never been this way. Why do I even care how large his package his?

  “Look at you,” he says, greeting me.

  “I’m here and ready, boss.”

  “Fantastic,” he says, handing me a menu. “Why don’t you review this and write down the specials, which are hanging up in the kitchen. After that, I’ve assigned you the section on the left side of the patio. I’m going to have Michael, one of the other waiters give you a quick overview of the register in about twenty minutes. Other than that, you should be good to start the shift. Let me know if you have any question
s.”

  “Perfect,” I tell him, feeling rushed and a tad overwhelmed. I’m no stranger to the fast pace of a restaurant, but after the time Noah spent “getting to know me” yesterday, I would assume he’d have more to say. Maybe this is a test to see how determined I am to be independently successful here. We’ll go with that.

  In any case, I’m officially on the clock now, so anything he shared with me yesterday in the stairwell likely won’t be happening again. Hopefully.

  The shift started slow since it was just before lunchtime, and the tables filled up at a pace that I was able to get back into the rhythm of waitressing. The environment and ambiance make a big difference compared to a hole in the wall diner.

  While filling up a basket of rolls in the kitchen, a warm hand rests on my lower back. “How’s it going?” Noah, with his charming smile and delicious spicy scent, is standing directly behind me.

  “It’s good. I think I’m getting the hang of everything.”

  “Good, good. I’m glad to hear.” I continue filling the basket, but Noah doesn’t walk away. “You know what, can we have a quick chat in my office?”

  I’ve only been here a couple of hours, and I can’t figure out what I’ve done that’s wrong enough to earn myself an office meeting the first day.

  I place the basket down and follow his casual lead toward the icebox-looking door that leads to his office.

  “So, about that interoffice relationship rule,” he says as we ascend the stairwell. I can’t imagine what’s to follow that loaded statement, but part of me would like to ask if it’s due to the hostess that he seems smitten by. However, that’s none of my business for so many reasons.

  “Yes, I recall you mentioning that rule,” I respond.

  “I made that rule back when I opened the restaurant. I’ve been devoted to my career, and I figured if that rule was in place, it would put a stop to any inappropriate behaviors that might grow between any of the employees.”

  This is a lot of information to share within a stairwell that we’re slowly making our way up. “I think it’s noble that you’ve put your business first. It shows,” I tell him.