Paradise Cove. Stephanie Haefner

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      Shelby woke the next morning, and after her eyes adjusted to the blinding sun, her gaze moved to the sliding patio door of the resort room she’d taken up residence in. She’d left the glass open to allow in the soft breeze and the lullaby of crashing waves. Was this for real? The tattered linen curtain danced as the salty scent of the ocean drifted in and she knew she would always enjoy these simple moments.

      With the Espinozas having moved to their new casita, being alone at The Paradise Cove felt quite surreal. It was no longer a resort she vacationed at–it was her resort.

      Shelby stretched and sat up, recalling the events of the night before. She’d lit candles and played soft tropical music.

      After a dinner together on the patio of The Paradise Cove at sunset, Mr. and Mrs. Espinoza took one last stroll to the ocean’s edge. They’d held each other and kissed, as Shelby had sat by, watching them give a tear-filled goodbye to the home they’d known for nearly five decades.

      Shelby hoped they were happy with their decision and vowed to make them proud of her and what she did with the place they loved.

      Now it was time to get to work. She had given herself a two-month deadline to fix up the main building housing the lobby, kitchen, dining room and patio, and then the two buildings on either side, each with four guest suites. Her goal was to re-open the resort while continuing to work on the rest of the suites.

      After a quick and not-so-hot shower, her first order of business was stripping the guest rooms. She tossed every piece of thread-bare bedding, along with ancient lamps, ice buckets, and alarm clock radios that probably hadn’t worked in a decade. After moving one of the beds and finding a rat and her babies, she screamed and ran from the room. No wonder she had been the only guest.

      Several hours of labor and eighty jumbo-sized garbage bags later, she grabbed a bottle of water and relaxed on the only remaining fabric-covered beach chair without a gigantic hole in it. As she twisted the cap on her water, she debated dumping the entire contents on her sweat-spattered body. Instead, she downed half of it in one gulp.

      She watched the tourists walk by–lovers with hands intertwined, playfully pushing each other into the water as it lapped at the sand. Jet skis zoomed past, along with a boat pulling a parasailer. Faint sounds of a steel drum band drifted out from one of the neighboring resorts–a typical day of sun and fun in Cancun.

      The Paradise Cove’s beach sprawled out in front of her, rough and unkempt, and surely most people barely gave it a glance when they walked by. If they did focus on it for more than two seconds, they’d scrunch their noses at its random pieces of driftwood, some half-buried and pointing in all directions, and clumps of wet seaweed with miniature clouds of hovering insects. It wouldn’t win any “Prettiest Beachfront” awards, but this small piece of earth held much potential.

      She stood and trotted toward the water, and as a small wave tumbled over her feet, her toes sunk like she’d stepped in quick sand. Oh, that felt great! After bending and splashing herself with the cool water, refreshing her body, she turned and looked back at the resort. A fresh coat of paint was a must and the awning needed to be replaced. There was a ton of work–no surprises there–but now that her name was printed on the deed, the pages of the to-do list seemed to grow exponentially.

      Luckily for her, lack of a life back in New Jersey had lent her obscene amounts of time to watch do-it-yourself decorating shows. This favorite pastime gave her tons of information that she’d stored in her head precisely for this sort of situation. Even though she had never done it, she knew she could spackle and paint like a pro. And doing it herself was a must. It wouldn’t be easy, but she had a positive attitude and a vat of elbow grease. Surely it would equal the assistance of at least two, maybe even three more bodies.

      If she wanted to cross off any of the items on her extensive list, she needed to get back to work. She entered the second guest building and began filling more huge black plastic trash bags. They accumulated one by one onto the walkway and in no time, an Everest-sized mound had been formed. She grabbed two bags and dragged them straight to the garbage Dumpster, which looked to be filling quite quickly. After climbing up on a rusted metal lounge chair, she reached inside to rearrange the bags and squish them in as much as possible.

      Standing on her toes, she still couldn’t reach one of the bags. After carefully placing a foot on each arm rest, she leaned over the edge once again. The chair began to tip and before she could right it, it toppled over, leaving her balancing on the edge of the metal box. The weakness of her over-worked arms couldn’t take the strain and she fell head-first into the garbage.

      Sinking between the bags, Shelby scrambled to gain some kind of footing, but the poking and prodding of random pieces of wood and rubbish hindered any kind of progress she made.

      “Let me help you,” a man said.

      She finally steadied herself on top of an archaic air-conditioning unit and when she peered over the edge, she found Gabriel Espinoza standing there in a dark navy suit.

      Great. Her rescuer had to be the one person who hated her.

      “I’ll be right back,” he said, and in what looked to be quite expensive leather shoes, he sprinted to the tool shed at the far end of the resort. He came back with a ladder, opened it and climbed up. Reaching for her hands without saying a word, he helped her onto the ladder.

      The two climbed down as Shelby tried her best not to let on she had intense pain radiating through her right ankle.

      When both of her feet were planted in the sand, Gabriel folded the ladder.

      “You should be more careful, you know. You’re lucky I was here.”

      “Thank you for your help.” She avoided his eyes as she wiped her hands on her shorts, waiting for him to walk ahead. He couldn’t see her limp.

      “Where do you want the ladder?” he asked.

      “Anywhere is fine.”

      He rolled his eyes and lifted the dull metal apparatus, then walked toward the main building. Suddenly he turned and looked at her.

      “What’s wrong with you?”

      “Nothing.”

      “I can see you’re in pain.” His impatience came charging through. “Is it your ankle?”

      Shelby sighed and continued to move forward. “Yes. I must have twisted it.”

      Gabriel set the ladder down and stepped to her. “Come here.”

      “I’m fine. I can do it.”

      “No, you’re not fine.” He wrapped his arm under hers and supported her weight. A flock of butterflies and ice water surged through her body as his hand curled around her, every one СКАЧАТЬ