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“Feisty little pixie?” Her brows raise and for a moment. I wonder if she’s thinking about slapping me. I thought Floridians were supposed to be happy and laid back all the time, but not this girl.
“As you said - little girl, big attitude,” I reply.
“Excuse me,” she says, as she brushes past my arm, calling Duke, her furry companion to come along with her. He gives me puppy eyes for a moment before obediently following.
What the heck just happened? I ask myself, as I wait for the elevator.
I can’t help but watch her leave. She’s got the look of a laid-back Floridian but the feisty attitude of a big city girl. How is that even possible? Is she visiting from somewhere else? Because that would explain the attitude. And natural beauty like that doesn’t come from even the most seasoned plastic surgeons.
All I can think about when I make my way to my room is that girl. I should be annoyed, ticked off, and ready to escape this small-town hell. But instead, I’ve decided that I have to know her.
There’s no way someone like her is just another run-of-the-mill kind of girl, not with that personality, at least. I lean against the window that looks out onto the beach just in time to see her walk the dog out onto it. It takes me aback to see her furrowed brow smooth when the dog playfully jumps on her as they near the beach, almost like our run-in never happened.
Under the sun’s rays, she’s radiant. Her bright yellow sundress floats around her as she moves, making her look like something out of a dream. Her wavy golden hair bounces in the breeze as she playfully walks with her companion, who is equally excited.
I almost forget that she just got done ripping my head off for running into her. She radiates warmth when she smiles in a way that I can’t help but admire.
I always thought it was cheesy to hear someone described as having a “beaming smile.”
Maybe it’s because I’ve never seen one until now.
Chapter six
Meg – Seriously Ticked Off
Who the heck does this guy think he is? And why won’t he get out of my head now?
At first, I was caught up in how handsome his features were. Yes, I’ve seen good-looking men staying at the inn or surfing on the beach, but this guy is something else entirely. His attitude is atrocious for one thing, calling me a feisty little pixie like I’m some annoying creature he stumbled upon. I can think of a few stupid names for him easily.
But there’s something else about him…
He has something elegant and sophisticated about him. I can’t quite put my finger on it. His wavy blond hair is neatly cut and styled like an executive’s would be but his attire of a gray hoodie over swim trunks screams gym rat.
Maybe there was something in his deep brown eyes that entranced me when I looked up at him. For a moment, he looked like the kind of gentleman photographed on the cover of magazines. Thinking about it now, I smile a little.
Then I remember he has delayed manners. Or maybe his elegant appearance disguises serious stupidity. Almost like a himbo—but himbos are polite.
I mean, who doesn’t immediately help a lady up after they’ve crashed into her and she’s lying flat on her butt? I’m fuming over the crash. It could have hurt Duke in the process and then what would I have told his owners?
That jerk came stomping around the corner like he owned the place and I was the one trespassing.
And who does he think he is, calling me tiny? I mean, yes, I’m barely five foot two but that doesn’t mean I’m invisible. He should have helped me up and apologized.
Why the heck was he smiling too? I can’t think of a single human being who smiles like they’re enjoying themselves while someone else is barking at them the way I was.
Sometimes I wonder if good-looking people feel they can get away with things or brush responsibility off simply because they’re good-looking. I’m sure some of them do. That guy sure seems to.
I just hope he isn’t staying here for long.
As I walk with Duke along the beach, I start playing this guessing game in my head. It’s something I’ve done since I started working here. Because employees aren’t allowed to ask more than where a guest is coming from, it’s fun to make up scenarios in my head about who they are and why they’ve come here. It’s more fun when people stay by themselves. There’s more mystery to them. It’s rare but it happens.
As for Mr. No Manners, I feel like he must have come from some fancy city somewhere. He’s probably a trust fund kid who thinks he can treat people however he wants because he’s got Daddy’s money to cover any consequences for the attitude he gives people.
Maybe he smiled while getting his head bitten off because he’s never experienced it before. What a crazy idea. I can’t imagine living in a world where you’re never told ‘no’ by anyone.
Oh, heck, he probably thought it was funny more than anything else! I start to feel more embarrassed than anything when I think of what our verbal exchange must have looked like, with me staring up at him with my hands on my hips. I probably looked like a cartoon character.
But what would bring a guy like that here? Seaside is so small and quaint. It doesn’t really line up with a big city guy like that. Or maybe he’s from the general area and thought he’d stop in? He could have lost a bet or something and has to stay here for a certain amount of time, as dumb as that sounds.
