CHAPTER 4 Archer Bradley
Paradise
It’s been a full day of travel, but as the car pulls up to the front lobby of the resort, it feels like it may have been worth the struggle just from how beautiful the outside is.
A valet opens the door to the backseat, and I get out and stare up at the place.
“Checking in, sir?” he asks, and I nod.
He grabs my single suitcase from the trunk of the car, and he leads me inside to the lobby.
This place is pretty fucking sweet. The lobby is all teals and whites with an obvious beach theme, not surprising considering the tower I’ll be staying in for the next month is called the Beachfront Tower.
It’s the adults-only tower with upscale suites and exclusive pools and beaches.
I’m hoping it’ll give me the balance of privacy and luxury I’m here for since I can’t be home doing what I really want to be doing.
It's a good place to sit in my misery, I guess.
We walk to the reception desk, where I check in and tip the valet.
“You’re staying in our Ocean Blue suite for…oh, for the next thirty days. Is that correct?” the woman behind the counter asks.
I nod. “That is correct.”
“Wonderful. You’ll have access to a personal butler service throughout your stay, and as you’re on one of the highest levels of the Beachfront Tower, you’ll have access to the rooftop pool area during the day, which becomes our signature nightclub at night.”
“Great,” I mutter. I’m not much of a club guy, so I doubt I’ll be using that particular amenity.
She slides the keycard across the counter toward me in a booklet with my room number written on it. Twenty-six twenty-six. Shouldn’t be too hard to remember, particularly because the number I’ve worn on my baseball jersey since I was a kid happens to be twenty-six.
My birthday.
The twenty-sixth of April.
I’ll be turning twenty-eight while I’m here.
Who knows what that celebration will look like. I picture myself blowing out a candle solo at one of the restaurants here at this resort, and I realize I likely won’t mention to anybody that it’s my birthday. It’s easier that way. I’m not here to celebrate anyway.
“Mr. Bradley,” an older gentleman says as he approaches me. “I’m Clive, your personal butler during your stay, sir. My team and I are available twenty-four hours a day for anything you may require. Allow me to escort you to your room.”
I stick my hand out to shake his. “Call me Archer.”
I follow him toward the exit, and he makes conversation as we walk.
“Is this your first time in the Bahamas?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No, I’ve visited the Bahamas before. Not this resort or island, though.”
“Wonderful. How long are you staying with us?”
“The next month,” I say.
He looks surprised by that, just like the lady at reception was. I suppose they don’t get many long-term guests here, and the ones that do must have some money in the bank since this place doesn’t come cheap—especially not the suite I picked.
He sets my suitcase in the back of a utility golf cart with a rear cargo bed, and he nods to the back seat. He sits beside me, and the driver takes off for the Beachside Tower.
Apparently this place is so big that we need a golf cart to get around.
It’s a short drive, and he points out various amenities as we travel toward my tower. Restaurants, shops, pools, activities—all things I forget immediately after he says them.
I have thirty days to get to know this place, and I don’t have a whole hell of a lot going on. I’ll probably get to know it all pretty well by the time I leave.
I look up at the tower as we approach, and I feel this sense of awe for a few beats. This wasn’t at all where I was expecting to spend the month of April, but I guess I might as well make the most of it.
I’m leaving behind a breakup that resulted in the ex I still love marrying my brother, my mother’s death a little over three months ago, and a long, unfair game suspension thanks to my father, who played me.
I draw in a deep breath of the humid, salty Caribbean air, and when I let that air go, I imagine I’m letting go of all those things I’m leaving behind.
I’m letting go of the feelings I’m still harboring for Tatum.
I’m letting go of the grief over losing a mother I never really knew.
I’m letting go of the anger at my father.
I came here for renewal, and I plan to leave here a changed man.
It all begins now.
The golf cart stops, and Clive leads me up to my suite. I chose one of the larger ones since I’ll be here an entire month and wanted the extra space.
He shows me around, and I spot a couch in the bathroom next to the tub that looks out over the ocean. I can’t help but wonder why there would be a couch in a bathroom. Maybe it’s a nice place to sit and look at the view.
It’s dark since it’s nighttime, but the wraparound windows will offer a gorgeous view of the ocean once daylight hits, and as the tour comes to an end, I step out onto my private balcony to listen to the waves as they wash onto the shore. It’s the sound of relaxation.
I should be doing this exact thing every offseason, and maybe I will from now on. I guess I’ve just never had this sort of freedom before.
It’s okay to move on. It’s been five months since we broke up. She moved on. Quickly, apparently. It’s time for me to do that, too. This is my first big trip that I’m taking without her…and it’s to her dream location.
So maybe I will go check out that nightclub.
Maybe this is the time for me to sow my wild oats, so to speak.
To listen to Johnny’s advice and find a spring breaker or a bachelorette party attendee or even a bridesmaid here for a destination wedding.
I know how often they happen here since my ex is a wedding planner.
I push her out of my mind as I hear Clive’s voice.
“Is there anything else you need, sir?”
“I’d love a recommendation for dinner tonight. Something close and easy.”
He nods. “Closest and easiest is dining here in your suite.” He picks up a menu and hands it over to me.
“Beachfront Tower has a rather large food court with many options. I’d highly recommend Breakers here in the Beachfront Tower for steaks, or if you’re looking for something a bit more casual, Waves Diner just downstairs from here is a wonderful choice as well. ”
“Waves it is,” I say. “Thank you for everything.”
“We’re here to make your stay effortless, sir. I’ll call down and get your table at Waves reserved for fifteen minutes from now.” He hands me a card. “Here’s my personal information, or you may click the butler service button on your room phone to reach us.”
“Thanks, Clive.” I nod, and I pull out my wallet to tip him.
He shakes his head and holds up a hand. “Thank you, but this is not necessary at this moment. If you like our service, you’re welcome to add a gratuity to your room bill or via the envelope you will be provided at the end of your stay.”
I slip my wallet back into my pocket. “Okay. Well, thanks for everything.”
He nods and lets himself out of my room, and I take a few more deep breaths out on my balcony before I head down for my first meal in paradise.