Finding Reese (Tremont Lodge Series Book 1) (9 page)

Finn is pulling weeds along the cobblestone road he carried me across the other night. He’s soaked the bandana in water and has it draped across the back of his neck. It takes every ounce of courage I have to approach him again.

“Hey, Finn. I thought you were on lunch break,” I say. He stands up and wipes his hands on the front of his shorts.

“My lunch date baled on me, so I downed a bag of chips and an apple. And don’t you have to get back to work soon, too?” he asks.

“Um…I’m taking the rest of the day off, actually. I’m not feeling very well.” Gone is the look of irritation replaced with that of concern.

“Reese, I’m sorry. What’s the matter?”

“I’ve been having…headaches. They come and go. I need to lay down for a little bit.”

“Sure, I think that’s a good idea. Just let me know if you’re not any better tonight, and we’ll go out another time.”

“Actually…maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Can I get a raincheck?” I bat my eyes in the way I’ve watched Tinley do to charm a man.

“Yeah, I’ll do you one better.” Finn reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a beer bottle label, the one I gave him the first night we had dinner at Jack’s. “I’d like to redeem this now.”

“Here?” I ask, stepping aside for the crowds of people that are shopping over the lunchtime rush. Finn nods his head and pulls me toward him. He smells hot and sweaty…and like all things manly—all good things. He tips up my chin and kisses my lips. I taste the salt of his sweat against my lips. The whistles behind us fade against the crowded background as my mind snaps a memory of this moment, adding new memories,
my memories,
to a summer at Tremont Lodge.

“What on earth happened to you today, Reese?” Tinley is throwing clothes around our room in a crazed attempt at finding her bathing suit. “Do you realize that I had to clean four extra rooms?
Four extra rooms
—and did you know there are a bunch of smelly little boys staying here—and that one of those little maggots had the balls to grab my ass when I was making his bed? It took everything I had to not pummel him flat.”

“I guess you appeal to
all
ages, Tinley,” I say, laughing.

“Not cool, Reese.”

“I’m sorry. Really, I am.”

“You better have a very believable excuse.”

“I got a terrible headache,” I lie for the second time today.

“Oh, well, is it gone now?” She eyes my clothes: an orange sundress with a halter top and white gladiator sandals.

“Yes, I’m all better.”

“Must have been a miracle drug,” she mutters under her breath. “What are you and Finn doing tonight?” This is when the lying gets more difficult.

“Finn has a show at 7:00.”

“Like most nights,” she says. “But what are you doing after the show?”

“I guess that’s still to be determined.”

“Well, it looks like you’re set for a flirty, sexy night.” I feel my cheeks get warm.

“Why would you say that?”

“Reese, you seriously need a wardrobe intervention if you don’t realize that your 180 from your shorts and tank top uniform to an airy, short sundress sends off a different vibe.”

“You’re crazy, Tinley. Not everyone judges people by their clothes choice.”

She raises her eyebrows, which is even more pronounced on Tinley because of her waxing job. “And who was it that said my clothes read
easy
the first night you met me?”

“Well, that was different. I do not read
easy.
”

“No, you read,
I’m ready.
Don’t look so shocked. You and Finn are going to have a
great
night.” She laughs and pulls her bikini top out from under her pillow. “There’s the damn thing. Murphy can only be kept waiting so long.” She undresses right in front of me and stuffs her perfect breasts into the barely there bikini top. I wish I had half the confidence that Tinley has.

When she’s gone, I pause in front of the mirror. My hair is brushed straight to my shoulders, and all the intense labor spent cleaning room after room has given my arms a nice definition that they’ve never had before. That extra five pounds has surely come off by now, too, because everything I put on fits perfectly now instead of a little tight. But I don’t care what Tinley said. I am simply dressing for a proper date, upholding my end of the bargain with Lawson, until I get what I want from him—access to the Tremont Lodge history room in his uncle’s suite. I am not going to date Lawson, and I most certainly am
not
going to sleep with him. Now all I have to do is get him to meet me at 8:00 instead of 7:00. I am not going to be seen with Lawson at Finn’s show. Lying was never my strong suit—deflecting, maybe, but not outright lying.

Me:
Meet me at 8:00 in the library.

Lawson:
No. Plans to meet at 7:00 at stage.

Me:
Meet in library before we go upstairs. I’m busy until 8:00.

Lawson:
Deal’s a deal.

Me:
Still have a deal, just shifting time.

Lawson:
Forget it. I’ll c what Rachel and Raquel are doing tonight. Maybe they’d like to c my uncle’s suite.

Me:
I hate you.

Lawson:
No you don’t. You love me. Because you need me.

I throw my phone on the floor, not even caring if it’s broken. Now what? Finn hates Lawson. Whatever. I’m gone as soon as this summer is over and I get the answers I need. The only person I can count on is myself. I take one more look in the mirror, wipe off my lipstick so I don’t look too eager for this “date,” and lock the door behind me.

The lawn is busy tonight as it’s been every night this week, only there are an extra amount of kids. The little leaguers seem to be mixing nicely with the Girl Scouts. Lots of squealing and high-fiving is happening. Not a single lawn game lies dormant. The chairs around the stage are all occupied, too. Finn is sitting cross-legged on the stage like I used to do in elementary school. Surrounding him in a semi-circle is a group of those kids, mostly little girls who are laughing at whatever Finn is saying. His guitar rests on his lap as the kids take turns using his pick. One of the girls is Amanda, the young girl who lost sight of her mother this morning. I imagine her mother standing nearby, not taking her eyes off her baby girl, and it makes me sad.

I see Lawson walking down the sidewalk out of the main entrance from the lodge. He’s wearing khaki shorts and an orange polo shirt. Great, we match. This night is getting even more perfect.

“Hey, beautiful. Glad you got the
wear orange
memo.” He slips his hand into mine, and I shake it away. “You promised,” he says through gritted teeth.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” I ask without taking my eyes off Finn.

“Fine, then let’s go watch the help strum his guitar.”

“You don’t have to be such an asshole.”

“And you don’t have to be such a bitch.” He puts his hand on the small of my back and pushes me in the direction of the stage.
Hey, Lawson. Good to see you, Lawson. Let me get you a couple more chairs, Lawson.
Whatever power he has over his employees could be deemed impressive to some, but it just makes my stomach churn. Or maybe it’s that I know Finn is going to see me anytime now that makes my stomach start reeling like I’ve been on the high seas all day.

Lawson snaps his fingers, and an employee I’d never seen before, an older man who looks like he should be enjoying his retirement rather than catering to Lawson, moves two recently vacated Adirondack chairs so that they are center stage. Lawson points to the chair closest to him, and I sit, because what choice do I have at this point?

The kids are getting up from the stage, all of them laughing at whatever joke Finn has just told them, and the happy parents are clapping. A stool is brought onstage for Finn. He sits down and starts strumming
Layla
by Eric Clapton. My grandpa used to listen to Eric Clapton and other classic rock when he would read the paper. He’d said that classic rock set the tone for the news, no matter whether it was good or bad news. I used to think it just sounded angsty and angry, but there’s a lot of beautiful melody in the music, too. Finn stops playing mid-chorus when he looks out at the crowd—and sees me sitting front and center with Lawson. He finishes the song and goes right into
You Oughta Know
by Alanis Morrisette. I can only imagine the looks of shock on the faces of the same mothers who’d applauded Finn’s sweet interactions with their children moments ago as he now sings about a scorned lover. At least he has the decency to change the swear words. But he returns to his normal set for the rest of the show. I try many times to get Lawson to leave. He ignores me and pretends to be enthralled with Finn’s singing. When Finn starts singing
Brown-Eyed Girl
,
it takes every ounce of courage I have to not claw out Lawson’s eyes and make a public apology to Finn in front of all of the guests, but then I remember why I am here, why I came to Tremont Lodge…and I suffer through it—for answers. Finn closes his set by making humble apologies for setting out his guitar case for tips. Many little girls turn to their parents for money and go squealing up to the stage to drop in a dollar or two. Lawson reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. He takes out a crisp, single dollar bill, and hands it to me.

“You have got to be kidding,” I say. If looks could inflict pain, Lawson would be begging for the paramedics right now.

“What? Didn’t you enjoy the show?” he says. I stand up to leave, but he puts his hand on top of mine. “Don’t you think the help deserve their due pay?”

“Go to hell, Lawson.” I walk toward the lodge and don’t turn back to see if Lawson is following me, or worse yet, if Finn is
not.

I storm into the library because I know that’s where Lawson will come…and because I know I’m not done with this night, not by a long shot. I pull the Tremont Lodge history book off the shelf that pictured my mother and Blake at the pool. I turn to the page with their picture. A perfect stranger could see the love and joy in her face. No cause for alarm. No plan to leave. So, why?

“That was not cool,” yells Lawson, storming into the library and slamming the door shut behind him. “I have a certain reputation to uphold here, Reese. No one walks out on me.
No one.
”

“Then maybe you’ve met your intellectual and emotional superior, Lawson Oakley, and I don’t give a flip about your so-called reputation. You took me to that stage tonight to rub Finn’s nose in the fact that you’re with me this evening, and that’s juvenile.”

“Then it’s true what they’ve been saying?” he asks.

“What have people been saying?” I am so mad I nearly rip the page in the book I am still holding open.

“That you and Finn are an item?”

“Dammit, Lawson, I…we…it’s none of your business. Take me to your uncle’s suite.”

“Fine, but you still owe me dinner. You are not getting out of that promise, and I will make your life a living hell if you bail.”

“Unlike you,
I
am an honorable person.” I slip the book into my purse and walk toward the library door with Lawson following on my heels. I just pray that tonight will pay off the way I hope, or I’ve ruined a perfectly good
maybe
with Finn.

In the lodge, Lawson greets more staff members and questions guests about their accommodations. As much as I detest him, he really is good at his job. If I were a guest at the lodge, he’d get high marks for asking me if my stay was comfortable. I push the kind thoughts about Lawson to the back of my mind and try to concentrate on the task at hand.

We walk down the long corridor in the opposite direction from the gift shop and past the large Winter Haven Restaurant that, at the moment, is packed with guests. I wonder if that’s where I will have to suffer through a meal with Lawson later. At the end of the hall, Lawson pushes the button for the elevator. When the door opens, he holds out his hand to usher me inside first. The elevator fills with a frazzled-looking dad and his two young kids who are wearing bathing suits and dripping water underneath them.

“Did you have a nice swim tonight?” Lawson directs the questions at the girls. The older of the two hides her head in her dad’s leg, too shy to answer the stranger. The littlest one, though, starts chattering with Lawson about how many times she jumped off the diving board into the deep end and how she played Marco Polo with her dad.

“Well, I’m so glad you had a nice evening. My name is Lawson, and I’m the general manager. If there is anything at all you need, please don’t hesitate to contact me.” He hands the dad his business card and holds the door open for them when the elevator gets to their floor. I just roll my eyes.

“What?” he asks, inserting a gold-colored key card into a slot on the elevator floor pad I’d never seen before. A yellow light illuminates the button for the penthouse floor.

“You should try treating everyone the way you treat the guests.”