Our Secret Summer(8)
“Watch out for her.”
“How am I supposed to find this girl? The island isn’t that small.”
“She told me she was going to apply to work at Aura.”
I nearly laugh.
“My club?” That’s not happening. “We hired the last of our summer staff back in April. We turned down over two hundred applicants.”
Every year, twenty-somethings from all over the world flock to Ibiza with the hope of working and partying their summers away in paradise, and most of them have their sights set on Aura. We take care of our employees. We provide housing and competitive pay, but all that pales in comparison to the privilege of wearing one of our uniforms.
“I have nothing for her, not even at my new restaurant. We completed the hiring process there last week.”
“What do you mean you have nothing for her?” Her haughty tone reminds me of my late grandmother. “Never mind. She’ll find work elsewhere. She’s beautiful—someone will hire her.”
I don’t want to give into her, but still, in memory of my abuela, I can’t completely turn down her request. Even if finding a random girl on Ibiza is like searching for a needle in a haystack, I still feel like I owe her some shred of hope.
“Isabel, you said?”
“Isabel De Vere, yes.”
I commit the name to memory. “Right. Okay. I’ll look for her.”
“I knew you would,” she replies, and I can detect the slightest bit of smugness in her voice.
Chapter Four
Isabel
I know I’m not making the best first impression. Ideally I wouldn’t be marching up to Aura with a heavy duffel bag weighing me down, but I have nowhere to leave my stuff, so I push my shoulders back and smile.
Even in daytime, a bouncer is positioned in front of the club with an earpiece and a clipboard. From a distance, I watch employees arrive to work and realize this isn’t just a simple wave-as-you-walk-in situation. The bouncer takes every single ID and cross-references it with a list on his clipboard before the employees are allowed to enter.
I get in line behind two guys who peer back at me with curious glances but otherwise don’t attempt conversation. It’s probably the duffel bag. I’m wincing under its weight; I have Winnie’s entire summer wardrobe crammed in this thing. The guys are allowed past the bouncer, and then it’s my turn to step up and offer a little wave and chuckle.
“Hola.”
I came prepared. Just before I left the café, I looked up the Spanish phrase for Can I apply for a job? and have been repeating it in my head on my walk over. Only now, sadly, the words are a jumbled mess.
“ID card,” he says sternly. His accent is Scandinavian, I suspect. I’m relieved I don’t have to force my Spanish.
“Right.” I was expecting this. “I don’t have one of those yet, but—”
He sighs and leans past me so he can beckon for the girl behind me in line. “ID card.”
She steps around me and presents her ID, shooting me an apologetic smile when she’s certain he isn’t looking. He checks her card and waves her forward, all while I stand dumbly looking on. Once the line’s gone, he pulls out his phone, ignoring me.
I inch a half-step closer and adjust the strap of my heavy bag on my shoulder. “I was hoping maybe I could apply for a job.”
He grunts and shakes his head without looking up. “There are no openings.”
“None at all?” I ask, my voice lilting with hope. “What about as a barback? Or a dishwasher?”
I can wash a dish as good as anybody.
“None at all,” he replies harshly before he pockets his phone and prepares to check in the two employees walking up the sidewalk behind me.
Right. No jobs means no jobs. I could stand here pestering the guy, but from his sharp glare, I can tell I wouldn’t make much headway. Even still, I try once more after the two employees have disappeared into the tunnel.
“Is there a manager I could speak to just in case?”
My hopeful smile says, Please take pity on me.
“No point. He will give you the same answer.”
Lovely.
I squeeze my eyes closed and try to suppress my overwhelming disappointment before I hike my bag up on my shoulder and do an about-face.
What to do now? Find work elsewhere? I’d rather not; Aura seems like the most alluring option. Maybe that bouncer’s shift will end soon and someone more sympathetic will take his place. I could try to play dirty, find somewhere to change and doll myself up a bit. It could be that bouncer took one look at me and decided I wasn’t Aura material. I glance down at my sundress. It’s short and cute, accentuating my long legs. The thin spaghetti straps are playful, and my untamable cleavage doesn’t hurt, either. Though it wasn’t intentional when I got dressed this morning, I now realize all my best physical assets are already on display, so to say; I don’t think an outfit change would do me any good.
I walk down the street and turn the corner just to ensure the bouncer doesn’t get the pleasure of witnessing my self-indulgent pity party. Once I’m out of sight, I lean back against the wall, drop my duffel between my legs, and try to think.
It’s surprisingly hard. My brain is fried after this morning’s events. I dig the heels of my hands into my eyes, trying to get it together. I have to find a place to stay tonight. That’s imperative. I pull out my phone and start looking up hostels. There’s no shortage of them around me, but it’s not as simple as picking one from a list. The best-rated ones are already full, and what few remain are either too sketchy or extremely overpriced. In the back of my mind, I know I don’t have to find another hostel. I can afford a luxury resort, an entire room all to myself, a hot shower, a tamper-proof locker to store my money, but it feels like staying at a place like that would be equivalent to calling it quits. If I wanted to take a fancy vacation, I could have done that without all this trouble.