Seashells {Belmont 1}

Chapter 4

sorry for the long wait! but here it is!

also: for you're interested in fan fiction I have a Jurassic World story posted and on my second account @-stilinski- I posted a buffy the vampire layer/ angel fanfic. please check them out!

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"I'm so sorry," I say.

"You snuck up on me and it was just instinct." The guy just keeps staring, trying not to laugh. "Do you swig bags of greasy food at everyone or am I just lucky?"

 Biting the inside of my cheek, I try and think of a response. "At least I defended myself. You didn't see it coming did you?" I ask, not wanting my humility to last any longer. His expression changes to shock for a split second before his lips curve into a smirk. Yes, I now have the high ground now. "Anyway," I say, grabbing the handle to my suitcase. "Can you please check me in? I'd like to spend the rest of the night relaxing."

 The man continues to smirk at me as he walks around me to unlock the door. The wooden door opens with the draft, the white curtains blowing around with the movement. Jenna's son walks to the main counter, his flip flops making a clapping noise as he goes. He has black swim shorts on with a blue decorative on the sides and a dark blue shirt on. His hair still looks damp in the back—he was probably swimming when he saw me pull up.

Following behind him, I walk with my head held high. I may have attacked Jenna's son with a bag of McDonalds and other goodies, but I will not let that get me embarrassed. My suitcase rolls on the hardware floors and I sure hope it doesn't make any marks. The bag hanging from my shoulder is starting to hurt as it continues to dig into my flesh. Wincing, I slowly take it off my shoulder once I reach the counter. I run my fingers through my hair; my blonde hair is most likely looking a mess.

  He got some information out from behind the counter and looks through them. "You're staying in the Veronica room correct?" He looks at me through his lashes. The brown irises look lighter in the light.

I nod as I grab my wallet from my purse. "Yes, that's right. That isn't a problem right?" I ask a little flustered. Hopefully there isn't a mistake and someone else got it instead.

His full lips quirk up. "No there isn't a problem. I was just making sure. Can I have an ID?"

 I hand over my license and mentally cringe as he sees my picture. I absolutely hate my picture for my license. On the day I got it renewed there was this curvy woman with sass that could tip a sass scale. She didn't even crack a smile as a person should when working with the public. I just sat down, barely smiling, when she took the picture. I look annoyed in my picture—so not flattering. Especially when I get carded at the bars.

"Emily McCarty?" he says in a question, his eyebrows furrowing.

 "That's my name."

 "Are you related to Veronica?"

 I nod. "She was my mom. My dad told me about this place so I thought I'd be interesting to stay where my mom grew up."

 Jenna's son clicks the pen he was writing with a couple of time before continuing the paperwork. As he scribbles down my information he says, "I'm sorry—about your mom—and I know that probably doesn't help, but she was a nice woman."

 Quirking up an eyebrow I question, "You knew her?"

 He pulls his lips together as he hands me my license back with a white piece of paper. "Place sign here," he points to a signature line besides his. Reading his signature I see his name is Dean—Dean Andrews. As I sign my name next to his I hear him say, "She would always make sure to come back here almost every year. She usually comes with her husband which I assume is your father. Veronica always made sure to give my mom business."