Loving Reese (Tremont Lodge Series Book 2) (5 page)

“Only if you tell on me first, I guess,” I say, succumbing to Tinley’s wishes and slipping off my navy blue suit in favor of a white terry cloth towel that is much softer and larger than the guest towels I washed and folded every day during my job as a maid earlier in the summer. This is one step up I could get used to.

I lie on the table and enjoy a relaxing rubdown from an older guy named Owen who tells me he used to wrestle for Michigan State. It makes me a little melancholy wondering if I should have returned to school a couple of weeks ago like the other students instead of taking off the semester to figure out my place in the world. I should be attending football games and learning the personalities of my new professors, studying at the student center, and worrying about how I’m going to afford all my new books—not pseudo-running the largest ski resort in the Midwest.

“So, aren’t you even going to ask me what I have planned for tonight?” asks Tinley, turning her head to face my direction, with Helen on her other side. She’s humming off-key along to the classical music piping into the room, which makes me laugh.

“Sure, Tinley. What do you have planned for your last night at the lodge?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” she says, the biggest grin I’ve seen yet, enveloping her face.

I moan when Owen works a knot out of my shoulder. “That feels so good,” I say aloud.

Tinley laughs. “Anyway, I’ve decided to ask Murphy to marry me.”

“What?” I forget I’m only wearing a towel as I nearly jump off the table before pulling it back over my body and swinging my legs over the side of the table so that I am sitting and facing Tinley. “That was great, Owen. Thanks. I think I’m done now.” Owen bows in my direction and leaves the room. Helen and Tinley’s masseuses keep working their magic, both incapable of being rattled.

“Helen, don’t you think this is a little sudden?” I ask.

Helen flutters her eyes open only long enough to say this: “Miss Tinley knows what makes Miss Tinley happy. Maybe we could all learn a thing or two from her.” Then she closes her eyes again and resumes humming.

“I love him, Reese, and my parents won’t approve of me dating a guy without a pedigree…”

“or much money,” I add.

“Right. So, if I marry him first, then they will know how serious I am—that Murphy’s not some summer fling. And it will give them time to warm up to his charming character.” I roll my eyes. “And to see how much he takes care of me.”

“I know he’s crazy about you, Tinley, but—oh, what the hell—you only live once, right? Just promise me you’ll make it a long engagement.”

“Of course it will be a long engagement. It will be the wedding of the century. Forget Kim and Kanye. This wedding will take time to plan, and we’ll need an engagement party and pictures and showers and—oh, Reese—you do think he’ll say
yes
, don’t you?” Tinley looks at me with earnest eyes looking for reassurance.

“He will say
yes
, Tinley. I have no doubts.”

She takes a deep breath. “Great. Now it’s time for manicures and pedicures. You in?” I glance at the clock on the wall.

“Oh my gosh, I’ve got to go or I’ll be late. Jeremy will kill me if I screw up today. Thanks for the massage. I can’t wait to hear how things go,” I say, throwing my clothes back on and stepping into my dorky, though sensible navy blue pumps.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be there when it happens.” Of course I will. Tinley doesn’t pass up any opportunity she can at drawing attention to herself. I wish I could be so confident.

When my phone dings in my purse, I peek inside, expecting my mid-day message from Finn. The message is not from him.

I hope you are relaxed.

To say that I am rattled when I arrive at the recreation desk five minutes early would be an understatement. Jeremy is talking to Connor and Bobby about the next group they are taking on the extreme adventure ziplining course. He barely acknowledges my presence. I glance over my shoulder and look out the large front window of the rec department and wonder who might be looking in at me right now because someone sure as hell has eyes on my movements, and there’s nothing normal about that. It’s probably Lawson. It’s just the type of thing he’d do—try to get in my head and freak me out. Well, he’s not going to get the satisfaction of seeing me nervous. That all stays on the inside of this shell. Today Reese Prentice is calm, cool, collected, and in charge…because that’s how managers act.

Connor and Bobby wave
goodbye
when Jeremy’s done with them, and I welcome the friendly faces. When it’s just the two of us, I make the first move. “Jeremy, I’m really sorry about yesterday. I totally messed up, and I couldn’t take the pressure and….”

“And if you were anyone else but Ted Oakley’s daughter, your ass would have been fired.”

“How do you know….?”

“Everyone knows why you’re here, Reese. It’s no secret that Ted had a love child, and you’re the golden child resurrected to take over the lodge.”

“I don’t understand. I haven’t told very many….” Feelings of rage and betrayal cross my face as I consider that Bree may have told Jeremy my story.

“It’s not what you think. Bree’s been tight-lipped. Mr. Oakley had a meeting with some of us supervisors and gave us some crazy story about an extended family member coming in to test out the lodge for future potential and that we should all be welcoming and accommodating. When we found out
you
were the long lost family member, a bunch of us put two and two together. Lawson just filled in the blanks, though I suppose his slant might not be entirely fair to you—or your mother.”

I ball my fists in anger. “What did Lawson say about my mother?”

“Maybe we should talk about work. Look, seriously, I should never have said anything. Let’s start over.” He puts his hand out in a gesture of good will. I feel my body relax, and I take a deep breath.
Breathe in. Breathe out.

The rest of my shift is uneventful with plenty of business to keep my mind off Lawson and his stupid text messages. I’m so involved in parceling out Frisbee golf discs and tennis rackets that I almost forget my other responsibility for the afternoon—meeting with Samantha and Anthony about their wedding. “Jeremy, I have a meeting in fifteen minutes. It might be an hour or so, but I’ll come back and check on things before I go back to my room.”

“Don’t worry about it, Reese. Do what you have to do. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you being nice to me because of Bree?” I ask.

“Well, that’s part of it.” He grins, and I shake my head, “but I also saw how hard you worked while you were here today, so I know you’re not trying to act like an entitled, spoiled rich girl. That’s a bonus.”

“Well, gee, that’s swell—not.” I roll my eyes. “But thanks for cutting me a break.” I grab my purse and walk out onto the lawn, ever aware that I may be being watched but not about to turn my phone back on and ruin this otherwise perfectly peaceful day.

I enter the lodge and walk down the hallway past the Winter Haven Restaurant toward the ballroom where I will be meeting with the future bride and groom. The memory of my last meeting with Samantha as she stood between Lawson and a towel-clad Finn isn’t exactly something I can be proud of since I called her out for sleeping with both of the guys, so I hope she has forgotten and decided to focus on Anthony and her upcoming future endeavors with him. I walk into the office in the room next to the ballroom to grab the wedding planner binder from the secretary. She’s an elderly lady, though knowing that Mr. Oakley let a lot of the “old-timers” go after the incidents at the lodge that lead up to my abandonment when I was a little girl, I don’t think she’s actually been here as long as she looks. “Thanks, Marge.”

“No problem, Reese. The couple is already in the ballroom.” She leans across her desk and whispers, “Notice I didn’t say the
happy
couple?”

I nod my head to agree with her. “Trouble in paradise already with those two?”

She shakes her head dramatically. “If you ask my opinion,” she whispers again, “I give that marriage five years tops, and seeing as how that little missy is bossing that wimp of a guy around, she’s going to take him to the cleaners some day. Mark my words, Reese.”

I smile. “I think the odds are with your assessment, Marge. Wish me luck.” I take the binder with me, walk out into the hall, take a deep breath, and push open the door to the ballroom. I haven’t been back to this room since Tinley, Murphy, and I served guests at the Albert wedding in early June—when Tinley tried to poison a date-gone-wrong guy. Though, in her defense, she knew all along that one stab of an EpiPen in his thigh and all would be well. Thank goodness she was right. I sure never could have anticipated then that my next visit to the scene of the crime would be as the acting director of social events—at least for this event. I have so many titles now it makes my head spin just thinking about it. Marge told me last week that the real director of social events was told to take a mandatory two week vacation. I bet that went about as well as Jeremy’s sliding position to co-recreation manager. I hope she at least went somewhere warm.

Samantha is sitting at a round reception table with her perfectly manicured fingernails pointing to pictures in a magazine. Anthony is intently listening and nodding his head in agreement to whatever she is saying. I study them from a distance before approaching. Samantha is a classic beauty, not a California girl hottie like Tinley, more like a refined, confident beauty which can be a dangerous combination as she is both attractive with her long straight blonde hair and sure of herself which is sometimes a greater attraction to guys. I remember Bree’s advice and concentrate on the fact that she is marrying someone else,
not
my boyfriend, so no matter what her past was with Finn, it is of no consequence now. Samantha throws her hair behind her shoulders and looks up, catching me watching her. She smiles a perfect smile thinking that she’s being admired from afar, and I walk toward the lair with a new purpose. Give this snotty bitch what she wants and get her as far away from Tremont Lodge as possible.

“Hello again, Samantha. So nice to see you.” I stick out my hand in a fake attempt at acceptance. For only a brief second, her face flashes red before she regains her composure, tucking away any of the awkward feelings she might have had during our last meeting, though for all I know she was pleased as pie to be caught between Lawson and Finn again. Regardless, I don’t really care to show my true feelings, either.

“Hello, Reese. We have been waiting forever to finalize our plans. So glad you could finally make it.” If I could throw spears with my wide-eyed stare, I’d have solved my Samantha problem, but, alas, I must
take
whatever she is dishing out.

Anthony puts a hand around Samantha’s shoulder, but she shrugs it away. “Maybe if we hadn’t come fifteen minutes early, dear, you wouldn’t feel like we’ve been waiting much time at all.”

“I am always early, Anthony. You of all people should appreciate the fact that I am never late.”

Her extended stare down leads me to believe that being late has two meanings in this case, and it strikes me that being married to a potentially pregnant Samantha would be hysterical.

“What
are
you smiling at?” she asks, setting down the bridal magazine in front of her.

“Oh, I…I was just thinking that the two of you make the perfect couple.” Anthony beams while Samantha exhales a sound of exasperation. “So, let’s get started, okay?” They both nod their heads, the first sign of agreement today. I open my wedding planner binder and proceed to go over the plans for the Sunday afternoon wedding. Something tells me that this meeting is going to take a lot longer than the hour I’d set aside.

When we are starting hour three, Marge enters the ballroom with the office phone in her hand. “Reese, you have an urgent matter that needs your attention at the recreation desk.” When Samantha and Anthony look away, I see Marge wink.

“I really think everything looks good, guys. We’ll walk through the ceremony with your wedding party tonight. All the details you asked for will be finalized by ceremony time tomorrow. See you later.” I get up to leave, but Samantha stops me when she puts her hand on top of mine.

“Wait! We haven’t discussed the music at tonight’s dinner.”

“Music?” I ask. Anthony looks as confused as I do.

“Yes, yes. I want music at our rehearsal dinner party at the restaurant.”

“Our Winter Haven band doesn’t start until 10:00.” I say.

“That’s okay. I only need a guitar and a voice.” She locks eyes with me in a throwdown challenge, but I am prepared.

“No problem. You’ll have music,” I say.

“
Guitar player
,” she repeats as if I am stupid.

“I got it. Have a nice afternoon.” As I walk out the door, I make a mental note to call Mona, the back-up guitarist from Tremont City. She’ll be perfect, and Finn will be with me. Problem solved. Only, it’s too bad I won’t be there to see Samantha’s reaction when it’s Mona strumming the first notes to some old love song and not Finn.

I drop the wedding planning binder off with Marge and practically skip out of the lodge across the lawn, relieved to be through with the wedding meeting and one hour closer to being done with work for the day. When I check in with Jeremy at the rec office, he tells me that everything has slowed down because of the heat and that I can go home for the day before the evening shift employees come in.  I could kiss him, I am so happy, but then being kissed by your almost-boss might kind of freak him out, so I settle for a handshake, which is just weird all the way around, but who cares? I lasted another day at Tremont Lodge without any major catastrophes. Maybe I am stronger than I think I am.

I wave
goodbye
and open the door of the rec office to leave when Jeremy calls out. “Hey, wait, Reese! I forgot. Some guy called earlier looking for you. He said to give you a message.”

I freeze, the handle slipping out of my hand sending the door slamming shut. I turn around to face Jeremy. “What did he say?” I ask.

“He said that he is sorry he missed you today and has a surprise waiting for you tomorrow.” I feel the blood rush from my face as my hands start to tingle. “Reese, are you okay?”

All I do is concentrate on breathing. I imagine the lapping waves of Lake Michigan coming in…and going out…coming in…and going out until my hand stops shaking and I can see more clearly. I am a freaking fool. “When did he call?” I whisper.

“Soon after you left for your meeting,” he says.

“Did…did he leave a name?”

“No. Sorry, I didn’t think to ask. Honestly, at first I thought it was Finn, but when I asked him if it was him…”

“You said Finn’s name?” I ask.

“Yeah—I don’t understand, Reese. Is some creep bothering you?”

“N…no. It was probably my brother or something. He might come for a visit soon. But, uh, Jeremy, if he calls again, don’t tell him—just tell him to leave a name. Thanks.” This time as I walk across the lawn in the direction of the dormitory, I don’t feel light and happy. I am scared, and not knowing what you are scared of is the scariest feeling of all.