Loving Reese (Tremont Lodge Series Book 2) (2 page)

My first stop is the recreation department office, located near the main lawn where there are small groups of kids and their families playing yard games like cornhole toss and hillbilly golf. A Frisbee flies by my head, and a little red-headed girl giggles as she runs by to catch it. The irony that I have decided to stay in the very place that has brought my life nothing but heartache is not lost on me. All I know is that the outright lies and lies through omission that have filled my head aren’t all sorted out yet, and I need to give it time. Right now I’m figuring out the whole
your dad’s not your real dad, but no one really wanted you anyway
story. At least I have Bree and Finn to help sort it out with me, or to at least give me support while I’m wading through the new story of my life.

“There you are,” says Jeremy, the day recreation supervisor. “I’m supposed to meet Bree for an early dinner before her shift starts. Seriously, Reese, you need to take this job more seriously if you expect Mr. Oakley to give you the reigns.

“S…sorry, Jeremy. I didn’t mean to be late. There were a lot of questions at check-in, and Tinley and I—oh, anyway, just go. I’m here. What do I need to know?” I take a deep breath and squeeze my eyes tightly so I don’t cry in front of Jeremy.

“There are ten people out on the twin zipline course. Wyatt and Elle are working the platforms. Bobby and Connor have a group of fifteen out on the mountain adventure course. They should be back within a half-hour. Some girl was feeling faint, so keep your phone on in case she needs a golf cart pick up.” He shoves his cell phone in his back pocket and grabs his backpack. “Oh, and set out the s’more supplies so Bree doesn’t have to when she comes in later.” He pauses. “You know, it’d be a nice surprise. Catch you later.” He lets the door of the rec office slam shut behind him, and I wonder why he didn’t just set out the damn s’more supplies himself if he wanted to leave a romantic gesture. Of course, since I’m more in love with Bree than he is, I know I’ll do anything to make her happy.

The door opens and a group of teen boys wanting to play Frisbee golf come in to sign up for supplies. I wait for them to settle the arguments as to who is taking what Frisbees. Who even cares what weight they are? I seriously doubt these are gifted players. Watching out the window behind them, I see the soon-to-be married couple, Samantha and Anthony, walk on the lawn toward the stage. Anthony pulls two Adirondack chairs in front of the stage. That’s one of the first changes I made when I took over some supervisory responsibilities—ordering more chairs. I mean, who doesn’t want to stop and listen to Finn when they hear his melodic voice? As if on cue, the front door opens, and Finn walks toward me. I shoo the teenagers out the door with promises of the accuracy of any and
all
of the said Frisbees currently resting in their hands. They mumble acceptance, and as soon as they are gone, I grab hold of Finn’s shoulders and pull him closer to me across the counter. When he’s close enough for our noses to touch, I plant a kiss square on his lips where he lets me linger until the sound of my phone dinging brings us back to reality. “Stupid phone,” I say, ignoring the message. “What are you doing here?” I ask.

“Just wanted to say
hello
before I head to my show
and
to make you promise you’ll meet me at the party on top of the mountain tonight.”

I sigh. “Finn, I promise. You know I want to be there more than anything. It’s harder now to be on time, so go ahead without me, and as soon as things are wrapped up here, I’ll go home and change.”

“Thank heavens,” he says, laughing, “because you’re a little overdressed for a party.”

I look down at my skirt. “Oh my gosh! I was going to put khakis and the Tremont Lodge polo shirt on before coming to the rec department.”

“How could you forget?” He tangles my hair with his fingers and tucks it behind my ear.

“Tinley and I were talking, and I got distracted.”

“You know this is a serious problem when your job is affecting your fashion.” He smiles and goes in for another kiss, but this time I’m so mad at myself for my poor time management skills that I cut it off before I want to.

“I’d better get back to work. Have a good set.”

Finn waves
goodbye
and walks toward the door. “Remember, you promised.” I nod my head and wave.

Not more than five minutes after Finn has walked out the door, it’s thrust open again by Bobby, another permanent staff member. “Reese! Where the hell have you been?” He’s out of breath and motioning for someone to come in. Connor follows him in the door. He’s carrying a young woman who appears to be bobbing in and out of consciousness as she leans against his chest. “Get me some water!” he yells. I stumble backward and knock a display of tennis rackets off the wall in my attempt to retrieve a bottle of water from the small fridge behind the counter.

“What’s going on?” I ask. Bobby glares at me as Connor unscrews the lid to the water bottle and holds it out for the woman.

“Really, I’m okay now. It’s heat exhaustion. I’ll be fine, really,” she says.

“Our policy is that you are visited by a doctor, miss. Reese will call him down for you,
if
she can manage to use her phone,” he snaps at me.

“Uh, yeah…I mean, yes. I’ll call the doctor. You can wait in our employee room. There’s a nice couch in there.” Connor helps the woman to the back room while Bobby watches me fumble with the phone directory to locate the doctor’s extension.

“It’s 3003,” he barks.

I dial the number for the doctor and wait for the tongue-lashing that’s sure to come. “I’m really sorry, Bobby. I’m sorry I missed your call.”

“You were supposed to have your phone on. Now I’ve got ten people out on the course all alone still wearing their gear in this blasting heat. If one of them goes down, we’re all screwed because I left my post.”

“
I get it!
” By now, I’m tired of the abuse, and I’m just plain tired in general. Ted has me working from sun up to sun down in some near impossible race to some unclear prize, and maybe none of this even matters. “I made a mistake. I owned it. Get off my back!” I throw down my clipboard of activities showing where various guests have checked in for the afternoon and grab my purse as I head out the back door and away from the responsibilities that loom over my head.

I don’t know where I’m going, only that I need to get away for a while. The music from the stage pulls me in the direction of the handsome brown-haired man with the matching dimples and butterfly tattoo floating on his neck. The crowd is applauding as I walk closer. It’s too early in the show for the tips to be delivered to his guitar case, but a young woman is standing in front of the stage waving a dollar bill in the air. I walk faster. Finn sets down his guitar, pushes off the money, and instead greets the woman with a big bear hug, the kind you only give to someone you know. A pang of jealousy surges through my body. I tell myself that maybe the woman is Finn’s sister Tabitha. After all, she’s due to visit sometime this fall, and maybe she simply arrived early as a surprise. But it’s not Tabitha. Because I can clearly see that the woman Finn is so affectionately hugging is the bride-to-be Samantha that I met earlier in the lobby. No sense worrying anymore, I lean against a tree that adjoins the sidewalk near the stage and observe. Finn picks up his guitar again and begins to strum.

“Ladies and gentleman, a very special friend is joining us tonight, and I’d like to dedicate this next song to her.” He turns to the woman who is sitting in an Adirondack chair center stage, leaning her elbows on her knees, her hands on her face, like she’s captivated with Finn. “This one’s for you, Samantha.” I swear he winks at her before he starts singing
Wouldn’t It Be Nice
by the Beach Boys, a song about wishing you were old enough to marry.
I know that because my grandmother used to listen to the Beach Boys when she cleaned. My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach as I try to process what I am watching, and then it hits me.
Sam. Samantha—
the girl who stole away Finn’s heart during her yearly visits to Tremont Lodge—until Lawson slept with her and sent Finn a text showing as much.

My stomach aches, and my head is pounding. Nothing at Tremont Lodge makes any sense. But has it ever? I turn toward the dormitory and walk back to my room, away from the lawn, the music slowing dying away like my hopes for a normal future.

Tinley is applying a fresh coat of makeup when I get back to the room. She’s wearing a large towel wrapped around her body and flip flops with rhinestones that match her bright blue toenail polish. “Hey, you’re back early! Yeah! I get to play dress up with my favorite Barbie doll one more time.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Tinley,” I say, tossing my purse on the bed and flopping down in the tangled heap of blankets.

“Yes, you are. You promised!” She throws down her mascara wand and starts rummaging through a packed suitcase. “Here. Wear this. You look good in green. It goes well with your dark hair.” A green strapless sundress lands next to me on the bed, but I push it away. “Hey! That dress is from Dolce & Gabbana. You might as well take a wad of hundred dollar bills and rip them up the way you treat high fashion.”

I bat at my eyes which are filling with tears and walk past Tinley toward the bathroom, but she stops me by pulling on the back of my navy blue skirt. “Cut it out!” I yell just a little too loudly.

“What’s the matter, Reese?”

The dam in my eyes breaks open and a fresh cascade of tears falls out. “That bride who’s getting married on Sunday…she’s…she’s Finn’s
Samantha.
”

“His ex? Okay, that’s weird, I guess. But she’s marrying someone else, you imbecile. What difference does it make to you that she’s here?”

“Because I caught Finn and her hugging, and he dedicated a song to her—
Wouldn’t It Be Nice—
by the Beach Boys.” Tinley hands me a tissue from her dresser. I take it and blow my nose.

“I don’t get it,” she says.

“It’s a song about wishing you were old enough to marry.”

“Yeah, she’s getting married—in two days. We covered that already. Geesh, you are so dense for being a Midwestern girl.”

“No, it’s about him wishing they’d been older so
they
could be married, I mean, not now, but that’s how he felt then which means he must still wish that now and….”

“Shut up.
Just shut up.
Look at yourself.” Tinley puts her hands on my shoulders and turns me toward the mirror. Mascara streams down my face. My eyes are puffy, and my navy camisole is stained with grape jelly from the sandwich I downed on my lunch break today. Nobody even told me. Nobody wants me to succeed. Why do I even give a damn?

“Yep, I’m a loser. Thanks for pointing that out,” I say as I stare at my reflection, wishing I was getting ready to go back to Michigan State University instead of pretending I could run some old ski lodge in the forests of the upper peninsula of northern Michigan.

“Put that on,” says Tinley, pointing at the dress on the bed. “Wash your face. Reapply your makeup. Go red for the lips. Wear those sexy black wedge sandals you own. Heaven knows they are the only shoes you have worth keeping. And get your ass outside. You march to that stage, grab hold of your guy, and show him what he means to you. I promise you have misread that little show with Samantha. All that girl has on her mind is whether or not that torrential storm they’re predicting is going to blow her ceremony inside. She does
not
care about an ex-summer fling.” She hugs me to soften her biting orders, and it provides all the courage I need to follow through with her directives.

When I am dressed, I survey myself in the mirror again. It’s hard to make a strapless push up bra work its magic, but I think it does a pretty good job in Tinley’s froo-froo designer dress. I pin up one side of my hair and spritz
Happy
perfume behind my neck because that’s my sweet spot—and Finn knows it.

“You look great, Reese,” says Tinley. “Meet Murphy and me at the party after dinner. Hey, aren’t you supposed to be working now?”

I tug up the dress and slip into my sandals. “I kind of walked away from the rec department today. There was a little…mishap.”

“Well, don’t you go letting that jerk Jeremy give you a hard time. You’re Oakley’s blood. Ain’t nothing going to break that bond.” Sure, only there was never a bond to break anyway because he forgot he ever had me until I showed up on his doorstep with my mother when I was five, and look where that web of lies tangled itself.

“See you later, Tinley. Thanks.” I wave
goodbye
and walk down the stairs toward the staff courtyard before crossing over to the lawn. When I turn the corner, I practically bump into Anthony, the groom-to-be, who is carting one too many suitcases all by himself. “Do you need a hand?” I ask, feeling sorry for the guy.

“Oh, um…yeah, sure. That’d be great.” He sets down one of the bags.

“I’m Reese,” I say.” He looks confused. “The girl from the lobby who helped you get the room you’re heading to now.”

A surprised look crosses his face. “Oh, you look, uh—you look different—I mean that as a compliment.” He shakes his head from side to side. “I am such an idiot.”