Our Secret Summer(10)

“Tell me.”

I frown and reluctantly let the Louboutins hang limp at my side. Why does she care?

I stay silent for another moment, thinking with a little resistance that she’ll take the shoes and be on her merry way, but she continues our staring contest long enough that I know I won’t win this battle. A tingle racks my spine, and it’s seriously spooky to have a stranger look at me the way she is. Maybe she is magical.

With a sigh, I release the floodgates, talking fast. “Fine. Yeah, it’s been a shitty morning. Someone stole money from me at my last hostel and I had to wait forever to file a police report and now I need to find a new place to stay and a job, but it’s nothing.” I laugh. “Seriously, it sounds worse than it actually is. It’ll work itself out, but now will you please just take these shoes? I’m going to worry about you the rest of the day if you don’t take them.”

“There, see?” She grins, and her whole face lights up. “I knew I read you right. You’re a good egg. What’s your name?”

“Isabel.”

She holds her hurt palm out for me, winces, then trades it out for her uninjured one. “I’m Simone.”

“Nice to meet you. I like your hair.”

“I like your dress. And these,” she says, pointing at my chest. “They’re quite nice.”

I burst out laughing, and she follows suit.

She tilts her head back in the direction of where I just came. “Listen, come with me to work. We’ve got heaps of first aid kits lying around, perfect for sorting ourselves out.”

I shake my head and wave her off. “You’re late for that training. I can just find a Band-Aid somewhere.”

She rolls her eyes at my obstinance as if she herself isn’t being just as difficult! “No, come on.”

“I’ll go if you take the shoes,” I declare, not bothering to hide the triumph in my gaze.

I’ve bested her, and she knows it.

With a dramatic groan, she takes the high heels. “I’ll borrow the shoes, only because I don’t have time to run home and get another pair, but I’m giving them back.”

“Fine.”

I don’t point out that she’ll have a hard time returning them if we never see each other again.

I retrieve my duffel bag off the ground, and then we fall in step together. “Is your work close?”

“Right around the corner.” Hope blooms in my chest a moment before she confirms, “I’m a server at Aura, the nightclub.”

I laugh at the absurdity of the circumstances. Winnie, are you doing this?

“What?” She eyes me suspiciously.

“No, it’s just funny. I tried to apply there earlier today and got turned away,” I admit sheepishly.

Now she’s laughing. “Of course you got turned away! You’re a bit late. I applied for the job back in February. This is Ibiza we’re talking about—all the best jobs go quick.”

“Yes, I’m only now realizing that.”

Her widening smile throws me off until she remarks casually, “But you’re in luck.”

“Yeah? How so?”

There’s a wicked gleam in her eyes as she continues, “My mate who I came down with, Quinn, quit yesterday and hopped on a flight home to England to get back together with her absolutely naff ex-boyfriend who only realized after she’d left the country for a fun-filled summer with me that he couldn’t live without her.”

“And she worked at Aura?” I ask as we approach the front entrance. Just like before, the same bouncer is prepared with his clipboard and stern expression. God, he takes his job seriously.

“Yes, she was a server with me. We shared a flat together in staff housing.”

We’re drawing nearer to the bouncer, and I know he won’t let me past. This is going to be embarrassing. “Listen, I know your friend quit, but I’m sure Aura has accounted for staff losses. People probably come and go all summer long.”

“Yes, right. I’ve heard rumors there’s a waitlist, but we won’t need to worry about that because I’ll speak up for you and say you’re an old mate.” She waves away the details like it’s not any of our concern, but isn’t it? There’s no way this will actually work. “Because I was living with Quinn, I’ll put up a stink if they try to stick me with a random stranger as my new flatmate.”

“Can’t they do that, though? Probably happens all the time.”

I doubt every Aura employee came to Ibiza with a friend in tow.

She levels me with a reproachful glare. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Unfortunately, now we’ve reached the bouncer, so I position myself slightly behind Simone so I can use her like a shield.

“You again?” he sighs before stepping up to block my way like the real menace he is.

Simone laughs and reaches back to loop her arm around my shoulders. “She’s with me, you git.”

Then she pulls out her ID card and waves it at him, but she doesn’t stop to let him take it like she’s supposed to.

“She doesn’t have an ID card!” he protests.

“Oh bugger off, Felix. You take your job way too seriously. The moment you slip on that earpiece you think you’re suddenly MI6 or something.”