Loving Reese (Tremont Lodge Series Book 2) (4 page)

As I am preparing for work today, I am reminded of my perfect night with Finn, even though he had to fill in at the Winter Haven Restaurant when the guitar player for the lodge band got sick at 10:00, and I decided to go home alone to my room. Watching reruns of
Saturday Night Live
capped off the perfect evening. And even though I have no idea if Jeremy, Bobby, and Connor have spread rumors of my ineptitude all over the lodge, I’m prepared to face the day with a fresh start, though sucking up has never been one of my strengths.

I turn my phone back on to text Finn a
good morning
message. There’s nothing worse than getting texts during the night, so I never leave my phone on. The only time that backfired on me was when Blake was sixteen and he started driving. He got pulled over for going fifty miles an hour in a thirty-five mile per hour zone and freaked out that our grandparents were going to take his car away, especially since he’d just left a party with underage drinking. When he’d gotten home, my room was his first stop which pissed me off because I’d been having a perfectly nice dream about Channing Tatum, if I remember correctly. And since he didn’t get any sympathy from me when I found out about the stupid chances he’d taken at that party, there was no sense adapting my self-imposed
no phones after 11:00
rule.

But when I turn on my phone this morning, it’s clear someone didn’t want me to get a restful night of sleep.

Blake:
Ever feel like you need a change?

Bree:
Jeremy promises to be nice today if you show up for work.

Finn:
I know you don’t have your phone on, but I wanted to tell you again that I love you.

I sigh. Maybe today won’t be so bad after all. Plus, it would be nice to have Blake meet Finn before his busy last year of high school begins. I can’t believe my baby brother is that old already. It sickens me to know that his father—and the only man I knew as father—abandoned him when Mr. Oakley dumped money into his wallet to keep the secret of my mother’s death quiet, be it an accident or murder. It’s one thing to not want me since he found out I wasn’t biologically his daughter, but to not want Blake—his own flesh and blood—is deplorable. My phone dings, the same unfamiliar number from last night popping up on the screen.

Looking forward to seeing you again today.

I drop my phone to the bed, clear now that last night’s phone message hadn’t been a wrong number. Somehow Lawson has to be behind this little stunt, and he’s going to hear from me today. Nobody messes with me and gets away with it. He may still hold some little spell over Mr. Oakley who can’t quite cut the ties with Lawson over some loyalty to Lawson’s mother, but I don’t owe him anything. If Ted Oakley really wants to see how I can handle more responsibility at Tremont Lodge, then I’m going to start by dealing with the trash problem.

After slipping on my pantyhose, one of the stupidest inventions of the 20
th
century, though a necessary, old-fashioned requirement for a female management role at Tremont Lodge, I attach small silver hoop earrings, and brush out my long hair, clipping it back on one side with a butterfly barrette because it reminds me of Finn. Today is going to be a bear of a day, starting with a visit to Lawson and ending with a wedding planning meeting with Samantha and Anthony. Assessing my hideously formal, navy blue suit in the mirror, I add a dab of pink lipstick for a personal touch and open the door to face the day head-on.

The lawn is alive with activity for such an early Saturday morning, but when it’s the last Saturday of the summer season, I guess some people try to suck as much out of the day as possible. I imagine it will be hopping late into the night. I’m really going to miss seeing all the little kids running around kicking soccer balls or turning somersaults, like I imagine I used to do the summer I was five and vacationed here before my life turned upside down in its own slow-motion somersault. I wave at Tinley who is walking into the south side of the lodge to finish her last day cleaning with Helen. I can imagine how blubbery Helen is going to be saying
goodbye
to Tinley. I make a mental note to check in on her later.

Were it any other Saturday in the summer at the lodge, I know Lawson would still be snoozing away a Friday night hangover, but since Ted let him come back to the lodge after his trouble with me, he’s required to report early to his new assignment:  answering questions for guests at the concierge desk. He’s sitting there as I open the door to the lodge, his blonde hair reflecting the sun that’s streaming in the window. It’s easy to see why Lawson always has a different girl hanging on him. He’s hot. There’s no denying it, from his west coast surfer look with the hair and muscles package to his easy flirting dialogue. But he’s a troubled soul with deep entitlement problems who lets his anger issues rise to the surface and turn everything about him into an ugly mess.

“What can I help you with?” Lawson asks me, not looking up from the
Sports Illustrated
magazine he is reading, a cup of steaming hot coffee sitting on the desk despite the fact that I’d clearly dictated to staff that all food and drink had to be kept out of view of guests. Glad to know he is respecting my authority.

“Well, for starters, you could
look
at the guests when they ask you questions. Eye contact is kind of important for customer service.”

Lawson takes a long sip of his coffee, just to spite me. “But you’re not a guest. Or an employee for that matter. You’re Ted’s
family
. I don’t owe you anything.”

I ignore his smart-ass reply. “Stop sending me creepy text messages,” I say. “Or giving directions to tourist destinations in Tremont City will seem like a dream job compared to your next assignment. And even better, I’ll convince Mr. Oakley to fire your sorry ass and send you packing for good.”

Lawson slowly sets down his coffee cup and stares into my eyes, daring me to blink first. And when he speaks, a hint of angry Lawson is front and center. “I didn’t send you any text messages. If I could avoid contact with you, I’d do it, but since we are forced to share the same space, it might behoove you to be nice.”

“Me?
I
have to be nice? Seriously, Lawson, you’re a real piece of work,” I say. “Just stop sending the messages—or you’ll be sorry.”

“Maybe you should consider your new friend Samantha as the originator of whatever is freaking you out. Because that girl doesn’t have a nice bone in her body.”

I take a deep breath to compose myself and to give myself a chance to consider Lawson’s words. I suppose it makes sense that Samantha might be trying to make trouble for Finn and me. Funny that Lawson could actually be my ally. “What do you know about Sam?” I ask, smiling fakely at Lawson and hoping he doesn’t notice.

“She’s a bitch, only interested in money.”

“Is that why she cheated on Finn with you—because you have money that he doesn’t?”

“I suppose, but I thought she was the real deal. She’s not stupid…”

“Like a lot of girls that you date, you mean?” I ask.

“Yeah, I guess that’d be true, though I sense the accusation in your comment.”

“Sorry.”

“I know Finn seems to think that we only hooked up that last summer she was here, but that’s not true. We dated most of the summers she was seeing Finn, too, only they never clicked because she was more connected to me. Don’t believe me if you don’t want to, but it’s true. I got sick of her playing both sides, so I did everything I could to woo her back, and to make Finn run for the hills…”

“The picture,” I say.

“Yeah, when I sent him that picture of her in bed with me, it kind of put everything out in the open. Sure, Sam left the lodge vowing revenge for breaking up her summer fling, but she never came back, and Finn and I were both lucky for it.”

“But Finn doesn’t come from money. Why would she be interested in him, if she’s really the gold-digger you portray her to be?”

“Maybe she saw potential in him. I don’t know. Why don’t you ask her these questions?” Lawson shakes his head and grabs his magazine, burying the hurt in his eyes behind the pages.

Without thinking, I reach out and touch Lawson’s hand. He tenses but sets down the magazine. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” I let Lawson win this staring contest when I turn away to report to the front desk to see what problems await me today.

After shuffling staff members around due to all the call-offs from college staff that don’t see that point in working their last day of the summer, I decide to walk around the lodge and see if there are any fires I need to attend to. Visiting Murphy in the gift shop is my first stop. “Hey, Murphy. Nice to see your smiling mug this morning,” I say. “Did you and Tinley have fun last night?”

“Hey, Reese.” He sets down a box of t-shirts he’d been restocking on the shelf. “Yeah, it was a nice night. Kind of bittersweet, though.”

“You two lovebirds will just have to come back to work at the lodge next summer,” I say, smiling.

Murphy looks away, and I think I see him scrunching up his face. “Are you crying?” I ask, surprised.

“I am
not
crying,” he says. “I have a hair in my eye.”

“Oh, okay, sure, Murphy,” I say, shaking my head. “Seriously, Murphy, you’ve been good for Tinley.”

“It’s just a fling, Reese. I’m her fun for the summer. Don’t you understand? Girls like Tinley don’t choose guys like me.” I wonder if that’s the real reason Samantha left Tremont Lodge without a fight for Finn that summer—because she knew he wasn’t going to be able to provide for her financially. And maybe now she’s grown up and realizing that there’s more to life than a hefty paycheck. “Are you listening to me, Reese?”

“Sorry, yeah, Murphy. I think you’re wrong though. There’s a lot more to Tinley than money. Plus, she’s bound to inherit a whole buttload of cash someday anyway, right?” I smile, but Murphy doesn’t.

“Not if I’m in the picture. She told her parents about me, and when they found out about my family’s blue collar roots and my parent’s divorce, they told her she was never to mention my name again.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I say. “We’re living in the 21
st
century. Who cares about stuff like that anymore?”

“I guess Tinley does because she didn’t tell her parents to go to hell.”

“Did you really expect her to do that?” I ask.

“No, I guess not. But anyway, sorry to be a downer. I’m going to try to enjoy the last 24 hours we have together. Thanks for listening to me vent. What about you and Finn?”

“We’re good,” I say. “Except for the fact that his ex-girlfriend is staying two doors away from him this weekend and using every excuse she can to see him, and I keep getting weird text messages from a stranger.”

“Like what?”

“Nothing. It’s stupid. No worries. I have to keep making my rounds. I’ll see you guys at the staff party tonight. Should be fun.”

“Bye, Reese.”

I check my phone which dinged a message when I was talking to Murphy.

Tinley:
Meet me at noon at the spa. NO EXCUSES.

Me:
You know I’m working.

Tinley:
You have to take a lunch break. It’s a law or something. Be there.

I put my phone back in the pocket of my skirt and return to the front desk to see if Luis needs any help. If I can pretend to be busy doing work that I don’t feel capable of doing well, then maybe no one will notice that I’m not available during my lunch break.

When I enter the spa at five minutes after noon, the receptionist smiles and asks for my name. When I tell her, she smiles even bigger. “Oh, I see,” she says. “You’re
the
Reese that put that snake back in his hole. So nice to meet you.” One of the perks of this position is pleasing former Lawson conquests who got chewed and spit out by the boss’s nephew.

“Uh, thanks. Nice to meet you, too. I’m supposed to meet a friend.”

“Yes, right this way.” She hands me a white robe and pair of gold-colored slippers.

“I kind of have to get back to work soon. Tinley doesn’t have the whole afternoon booked, does she?” I ask, worrying about pissing Jeremy off again if I’m late for my shift at the recreation desk.

“Well, she
does
, but you can leave after the massage if you have to. Right this way,” She points to a door at the end of the hallway. I turn the handle slowly, the aroma of hot oils and spices filling the air. Tinley and Helen are already lying on tables, towels draped around their bodies with two large-muscled men working their strong fingers across their backs.

Tinley points to a bottle of wine on a table next to the wall. “Pour yourself a big glass. You need all the help you can get relaxing.”

“Tinley, this is really sweet and all, but….”

“Shut up, and drink the wine, Reese. I’m planning a very special night, and if you want to be part of it, you’ll help me out.”

“Better listen to Miss Tinley, Reese.”

“Helen, I’m a little surprised to see you here in the middle of your shift.”

She giggles. “Going to tell the boss on me?” I’ve never seen Helen drink, and judging from her fit of giggles, she doesn’t drink often.