34. Sloane
“ N ew girl’s been here two weeks and still doesn’t know how to clean the machines!” Frank hollers, his gruff voice thick with annoyance.
I scroll through new bookings, the coastal radio tuned to a comforting mainstream pop station playing in the background. “Aren’t you the one who trained her?”
“Yeah, and I don’t have time to run a remedial program.” He turns his broad frame sideways to move through the narrow doorway that connects the Sea Witch’s café to the rentals side, cash bag in his meaty grip. “Business is definitely picking up.”
“Yup. Ten new bookings came in this afternoon.” I tap my computer screen to show him the reservations for the floating tiki bar cruises.
We have three custom chartered boats available, and they’re fully booked for Memorial Day weekend.
“And we’re already getting beach chair and umbrella bookings well into next month.
” For all the people who lug their own equipment in, there are still plenty who’d rather pay fifty bucks and not deal with the hassle.
Frank’s hulking form leans over my shoulder to read the screen. He nods with approval. “We’re gonna be begging for the offseason by June.”
“Don’t I know it.” The warmer weather is already luring visitors to our white sugar sands and idyllic coastal vibe.
Once school lets out? Mermaid Beach will explode with families.
They’ll jam the roads with their cars and golf carts, create hour-long waits at restaurants, and fill the hotel and rental beach houses.
Every local business will work themselves to the bone while earning enough to stay afloat for the remainder of the year.
“When are Skye and Rebel comin’ in?” Frank asks.
“Tomorrow night.” It’s the third season working here for the two college girls from Cincinnati. They’ll arrive in Mermaid Beach with their car loaded the day after they write their last exam.
“Good, ’cause I’m getting sick of making lattes.”
“But you’re so good at it!” I grin at his retreating back.
At six five, wearing a perpetual scowl, and heavily tattooed with his Native Pacific Islander markings, Frank’s appearance behind the till usually causes our customers to stumble a beat.
He doesn’t seem the type who should be inquiring about their dairy and froth preferences.
He answers with a grunt as he disappears into the back office. A moment later, the telltale beeps of the safe’s keypad sound as he deposits the day’s earnings.
Some business owners might not so freely trust their staff with the code to their safe, but Frank’s more than staff. He has been a fixture at the Sea Witch for sixteen years. He’s become a big brother and protector. I trust him more than I trust anyone else, and I lean on him a lot.
The door jangles and I look up to see Dave and Ted stroll in.
“Hey, strangers!” My face splits with a genuine smile.
“What are you doing here?” These two travel from Louisiana every spring like migrant birds, here for the work and the fishing.
Dave has managed Sea Witch’s beach equipment for eleven years, ensuring every last piece goes out in the morning and returns before dark.
Teddy’s one of his crew—a tall, quiet guy who shows up every day and lets Dave do all the talking for him.
I round the desk to give the guys hugs.
“Hey, Sloane.”
I can’t help but notice Dave’s returned affection is uncharacteristically subdued. He’s normally lifting me off the ground.
Frank reappears. “Guys. Long time, no see.” They exchange firm handshakes; Frank doesn’t hug anyone except Gigi.
“Seriously. I wasn’t expecting you until Sunday. It’s not an issue, right?” I peer up at Frank, who’s been doing all the maintenance on the trailers we rent to out-of-town staffers.
“Ready to go,” he confirms.
“Yeah … about that.” Dave scratches the back of his head as his gaze darts to the Help Wanted sign in our window.
“There’s no easy way to say this, but I figured I owed it to you to tell you in person.
” His chest puffs with a deep inhale. “We got hired at the new hotel. Full time. We won’t be working for the Sea Witch anymore. ”
His words feel like a punch to my stomach, and it takes me a few beats to process, to make sure I heard them correctly.
“But … we just talked on Monday. You’re supposed to move all the equipment out next week .
” Hundreds of chairs and umbrellas that need to be hauled from offseason storage to the compound—our nearby summer lot.
It’s grueling work that has to get done, and we’re already shorthanded.
Teddy’s focus hasn’t left his shoes once.
Dave’s face pinches with apology. “Just got the call. They moved up our start date. There’s no wiggle room. Sorry.”
“But …” I’m struggling to wrap my head around this bomb. “When did they hire you?”
He falters. “A month ago. ”
“ A month !”
“And you thought waiting until the last minute to tell us was what you owed us ?” Frank erupts, his deep voice filling the small rental office.
Teddy edges toward the door.
Even Dave, who at six foot three isn’t a small guy, takes a step back. “I don’t know what else to say except we’re sorry. We wanted to tell you as soon as we could.” And, for his part, he does sound sorry.
I stare at their backs as the door jangles closed.
Frank’s giant hand settles on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “It’s gonna be fine.”
“ How ? How is it going to be fine?” I blink against the threatening tears. “We’ve already lost five people to that fucking hotel!” First Jay, one of my tiki cruise captains, quickly followed by four new seasonal hires who got “the call” and promptly ditched us. Now, Dave and Teddy?
“We’ll replace them.”
“ This close to the start of the season?”
“Mick can take over running the crew.”
“Mick is indecisive, and he panics when he has more than one thing on his plate. He can’t supervise. He does what he’s told, not the other way around.”
“Okay, then I ’ll supervise until we find someone to replace Dave.”
“And what about hauling everything out?” It was already going to be hell and now we’re down two more capable sets of hands.
“I’ll take care of it. I’ll call the crew in to start earlier. Don’t worry, we’ll get it done.”
My body sags, but it’s not with relief. It’s with overwhelming disappointment that Dave would do this to me. More, though, it’s with a heavy sense of foreboding, that worries tucked into the back of my mind have a good reason to reemerge in a told you so fashion .
“Have you heard from Jeremy?” He’s played captain for six seasons, shuttling groups to Starfish Island, a popular sandbar. He’s funny, outgoing, and a favorite among the tourists.
“He called in after getting back to the dock.” Frank drags the elastic from his hair to free his lengthy black locks from the braid he wears at work. “Why?”
“I’m getting a weird vibe from him lately. Like he might be leaving us too.”
“Nah, he’d already be gone if they scooped him up.” Frank’s heavy brow furrows with doubt. “And he makes a killing in tips. He’d work here year-round if he could.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s the problem. Two weeks ago, he asked me if I’d consider hiring him on full-time.
” But I can’t afford another salary. Frank helps me run the coffee shop year during the offseason, and the tour and rentals side shuts down at the end of October until March.
“And now there’s this .” I stab the local newspaper with my index finger, drawing Frank’s attention to the job fair announcement at the Wolf Hotel.
He tips his head to read it, showing off the hint of gray at his temples. At forty-four years old, Frank looks closer to my thirty-one. “This is for seasonal, not full time.”
“To start, sure, but as if they wouldn’t be clambering to hire Jeremy year-round once he’s proven himself.” He’s reliable, punctual, and the hardest worker Sea Witch has ever had.
Frank pauses as if in thought. “You honestly think he’d leave us for Wolf?”
“I never thought Dave would leave us, and see what just happened!” I throw a hand toward the door. “Jeremy booked Friday off. He never books time off.” Luckily, we don’t have any cruises scheduled for that day.
“No, he doesn’t,” Frank agrees reluctantly.
“What if he leaves me? We’ll be down to one captain.
” AJ, who worked for us last year and is reliable enough, though not the most personable.
Honestly, I wasn’t going to hire him again this year, but I’m desperate.
“How am I going to replace someone as good as Jeremy? People ask for him by name !” I stab at my computer screen, to the notes section of repeat bookers. Whininess laces my voice.
“He still works here today. If he’s gone next week, we’ll deal with it then.” Frank gives my shoulder another comforting squeeze. “This isn’t the first time someone has quit on us out of the blue.”
“I knew this was going to happen. I knew that stupid hotel was going to swoop in to take all the best workers, and then what are we going to be left with? The lazy, untrustworthy plugs. Wolf is ruining Mermaid Beach’s entire vibe, and it’s not even open yet!”
Not that the feeling hadn’t already shifted for those like me who grew up here, casting fishing lines and running barefoot to the ice cream shop.
Somewhere along the line, the quaint Florida cottages were replaced by looming coastal mansions and condos, and dozens of new businesses cropped up almost overnight—there are now three other tiki bar cruise companies to compete with ours.
Popular travel magazines wrote articles about the area, throwing around comparisons to the Hamptons and Nantucket, and all these bougie Northeasterners who can’t afford to vacation in those areas flocked here, driving up the prices of everything—houses, taxes, food.
A lot of locals can’t afford to live here anymore.
So many of them are cashing out and leaving.