Siren's Cove

by Cassie Sandwich

Responsive Design

~ 2023 ~

Ronni has been absolutely clear: there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell I was getting her out of that hotel room. I tried to patch things up with her that morning, getting into her bed, holding her to me. She just pushed me out and told me she wasn’t in the mood for my shit. That I should focus on ‘whatever the hell i needed to do on this awful rock’ so we could leave already; she wanted out by tomorrow.

That certainly compresses the time for my plan. I suit up, trying to look as impressionable as possible. I’m going to have to put my wooing skills into overtime for this to work. 

The air is crisp and foggy, even right outside the small hotel. You could barely see past the immediate area, everything fading to white. There’s really no one around for miles. I tried my hardest to turn this into a resort destination, to justify to Ronni why we needed to keep it, that it wasn’t just me not being able to let go. It’s never taken off, though. Maybe a few rubbernecked tourists in the summer. This time of year, no one but the help stepped foot on the entire island. It made the whole place feel like a giant graveyard. Heh, maybe I could pitch it as haunted to get the ghoul chasers out here. Bust out the old ghost stories this place had…

A small motor rumbles out, lights cutting through the fog. Ronni told me when I tried to be with her this morning that if I had needs to meet I should call one of the floozies of the island. I hope she gets mad when she sees that I have. A large golf cart rolls into the front entry of the hotel, filled with women. Most of them in uniform, all of them unbelievably gorgeous. 

One of them comes up, grabbing my bicep. “Wow, you weren’t kidding. He looks absolutely delicious.” She turns to another one of the girls, who have also come to size me up. “What do you think, Mira?” 

The other girl, a petite one, gets into my face, giggling. “Oh, his eyes are gorgeous. Please tell me we get to keep this one?”

I laugh, puffing my chest out a little. “It’s ok ladies, there’s plenty of me to go around.”

“I’ll say!” The first one says, licking her lips.

The smaller woman, Mira, laughs and tugs on the first one’s arm. “Come on Hali, leave the fresh meat alone. This one’s Naia’s.” 

They all say their goodbyes, giggling, laughing amongst themselves, as the two in dress walk into the hotel proper. The one in casual clothes stays behind; clad in short shorts, a tight halter top, and a thin tropical shirt worn open over it despite the unbelievable chill in the air, stood Naia. “Well now, Mr. Storyteller.” She saunters over to me, runs her pointer finger over my chin. “When I gave you my number last night, I didn’t realize you would be calling it so soon. Isn’t the rule to wait a while before calling a girl? Absence is supposed to make the heart grow fonder.” 

I smirk, tugging on the open v of my half-clasped collared shirt. Make sure she can see the goods, get nice and infatuated. “I figured I could show you around before your shift started.”

She laughs haughtily, sitting down at one of the benches, crossing her slender legs and leaning back. “Show me around? I’m basically a native at this point. What are you going to show me that I haven’t seen already, Edgar?”

I sit down next to her and laugh, running my finger down her slender, smooth leg. “Well, I basically grew up here. I know all the most intimate, private parts of the island.” I let my fingers dance down to the bottom of her leg. “Have you been to the cliffs? The one from the legend? I figured we could go there, you could make a little wish of your… own…”

I stop, my finger reaching down to her shoes. They’re simple tennies, but still statement pieces. Bright colors, three, baby pastels. One part in particular had them stacked in bars. Ones intimately recognizable to me. 

She scowls at me, the way that I’ve stopped. “Hmm. I take it, you know what that means then?” I realize I’m being rude, freezing up. I nod at her quickly. “We’re not going to have a problem then, are we?” 

I look away slightly, embarrassed. “Of course not. You, uh, wouldn’t be my first.” I stare down between her legs. Wondering what I would find there. I lick my lips. “Exotic woman.”

She sighs, uncrosses her legs, leans over towards me. “Well, in that case. You wouldn’t be my first time… on the cliffs.” She leans back again, laughing at herself. “Sorry Mr. Storyteller! I can’t say you’re impressing me here. I thought you promised me something I haven’t done already!”

“Heh. I guess I’m lucky that I even had a chance, as your boss. Some women would get creeped out by that.” 

Her face darkens, looks away from me. “You aren’t my boss.” She looks back at me, smile back on her face. “And that’s a good thing.” 

“You really don’t like Ronni, huh.” That could be useful.

She huffs, tosses her hair over her shoulder. “I don’t like any boss. But yes, she’s awful. She’s so fake! All smiles and girlboss power. She acts like the world wasn’t just handed straight to her. Yet she demands we all worship her as this self made genius. Word around the hotel is that she’s been trying to get a tv show made too. It’s just so phony. I bet she’s got just as many skeletons in her closet as any of them.” She leans back over to me playfully. Gives a wide, predatory smile. “I bet you know all about her scandals. Right, loverboy?” 

Fuck it, hail mary. “And I bet you’d love to take her down a peg, huh?” She narrows her eyes at me, but I just grab her by the chin softly. “Have you ever been part of a scandal before?”