Finding Reese (Tremont Lodge Series Book 1) Read online

  “She seems like a better fit for you,” says Finn.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “She might actually have a heart.”

  “Tinley has a heart, too,” I giggle, “somewhere under all those boobs.” I don’t even realize Finn is still holding my hand until we reach the building and he releases it to open the door. There are less people inside the building that looks like an old restaurant, but the conversations nearby seem light-hearted and fun. After the stressful day I’ve had keeping up with Tinley and bantering with the boss’ nephew, it’s nice to relax.

  “Are you in any pain?” Finn hands me a wet paper towel from the bathroom and points to a booth.

  “No, I feel stupid. Thanks for your help.” I take the wet towel and press it to my knee. He squats in front of me and uses another towel to blot my other knee. He’s so close I wonder if he can feel my accelerated heartbeat. The tattoo on his neck is inches away, the shape of a butterfly illuminated in bright colors. What an interesting choice for a guy. I reach out to touch it without thinking. Finn looks up, startled, and instinctively shakes my hand away. “S…sorry.”

  “It’s nothing, really.” The heat in the air is accelerated by the charge pulsing between the two of us right now, and it terrifies me. A singular purpose dominates this trip, and any outside distractions will only sidetrack my intent. Finn may feel the same way because he stands up quickly. “I’ll go find a bandage. There’s got to be a first aid kit around her somewhere.” He’s gone before I can stop him.

  As I wait for Finn to come back, I see Murphy standing outside the large windows. He’s talking to a group of guys and girls while holding a bottle of beer. He’s going to be pissed that I didn’t bring Tinley. He tilts his head back to swig the beer. That’s when I feel the heat flush to my face, rising at the speed of sound, like my head’s going to explode. I’ve been here before. Something about this place, the beer, a man.

  “All I could find were little band…Reese? What’s the matter? Is it the blood? Does that make you sick?” Finn feels my cheek with the back of his hand. “You’re burning up.” I clutch his arm because I might fall over.

  “I think I need some air,” I say.

  “Sure, yes.” Finn puts the bandages on my knees and helps me up. I can’t stop staring at Murphy.

  “You like that guy or something?” he asks.

  “N…no.” I shake my head. “He just reminds me of someone.” Finn grows quiet, but I can’t fill in the blanks I’m positive he’s filling with all the wrong thoughts.

  When we are outside, Finn deposits me on a bench with Bree who is talking to a group of people, some of whom I’ve seen around the lodge, others whom I have not. Then he turns to leave. “Where are you going?” I ask.

  “You have a boyfriend, Reese. I may be horny, but I don’t operate that way.” The guy next to Bree laughs.

  “You’re wrong.” But I don’t chase after him because the ghosts in my past are far more dangerous than a relationship with an imaginary boyfriend.

  Bree and I spend the night mingling with other college staff and drinking. There is a lot of drinking. I only have one beer, but Bree surprises me again by her extracurricular vs. work persona. She’s not wasted, but she’s definitely loosened up and enjoying the attention of several different people: guys and girls, and even stranger, apparently when she’s drinking she doesn’t whistle. That could be a dangerous cure for her tick. I drift off toward Murphy when I get bored.

  “Man, Reese, where the hell is Tinley? You said you’d bring her.”

  “No. I told you I’d let Tinley know about the party.”’

  “And did you?”

  “Well, no.”

  “Of course not!” His anger is fueled by his alcohol consumption. Something inside me stirs another reminder, and I don’t want to be here anymore. I bite my cheek and turn toward the chair lift with a sudden urge to flee. Behind me I hear Brown-Eyed Girl strumming on the guitar. Excusing myself between the crowds of people I reach the chair lift just as a couple is getting off.

  “Damn, girl, you look like shit.” It’s Lawson. I ignore him and jump on the closest chair, careful to not hit my head and knock myself out completely. He jumps on, too, and there’s not a thing I can do about it. I turn my head and wipe away my tears. “Are you crying?”

  “Shut up,” I say through clenched teeth.

  “Who’s the bastard that messed you up? I’ll have him fired.” Lawson is like a bad nightmare that’s stuck on repeat. He tries to put his arm around me, but I shake him off. “Do that again and you’re liable to land in a mangled heap on the ground.”

  “Take that back,” he says. An expression of anger sits on his face, but I don’t answer. As soon as we reach the bottom of the mountain, I jump off and run all the way back to the dormitory, not stopping to see if Lawson is following me.

  Chapter 6:

  Tinley never came home last night. I can’t say that I’m surprised, though it would have been nice to get a text or something. Doubting that she’ll even show up to work, I make my way across the lawn to the staff elevator in the lodge. Finn is pulling weeds along the patio outside the back lodge door. Sweat has already soaked through his shirt, and it’s only 9:00 in the morning. The butterfly hovers on his neck and looks like it is flying every time he moves. When he stands up to carry the weeds to his yard waste basket, he sees me staring. I walk toward him.

  “Considering we met when you caught me staring at you, it’s kind of ironic that you’ve become the one with the staring problem.” This time he doesn’t smile.

  “Sorry. There’s something kind of hypnotic about that tattoo.” Finn grabs his neck and holds his hand over the butterfly to block my view.

  “Does it mean something special?”

  “Don’t you think you should get up to the floor before Helen gets mad at you for being late?”

  “You know Helen?” I ask surprised that he’d know someone in the cleaning department who wasn’t his own age.

  “Helen and my mom used to be friends. See you around, Reese.” He returns to pulling weeds. I start to walk away but can’t bite my cheek quick enough to stop from speaking again.

  “You were wrong about me. I don’t have a boyfriend or some old boyfriend I can’t get over, either.” I’m about to enter the service door when I hear Finn yelling across the lawn. Guests sitting on their patios eating croissants and sipping coffee strain to see who he is yelling at.

  “Then come to my show tonight.” All of a sudden, cleaning dirty hotel rooms doesn’t seem so bad.

  Strains of Yesterday by the Beatles greet me in the elevator. “Good morning, Bree,” I say, guilty that I ditched her without warning last night. She stops whistling which seems a relief to the others on the elevator, none of whom are Tinley.

  “You should have told me you were leaving with that guy,” whispers Bree, though I’m sure everyone else hears her, too.

  “I didn’t leave with anyone.”

  “A couple of girls claimed you stole the owner’s nephew away for the night.” There is snickering behind us.

  “Well, they’re mistaken. You have to believe me. That guy’s a jerk. I assure you I went home alone.” The door opens to Bree’s floor.

  “I’m meeting some people back there tonight if you want to go,” she says as she exits. “Text me.”

  “Have a great day, Bree,” I say.

  Helen is in the laundry room when I check in for my morning assignment. I’m right on time which is a relief. “Morning, Reese. Is Tinley behind you, dear?” I shake my head.

  “Sorry, Helen. I haven’t seen her since last night.”

  “Oh my, I hope she’s okay. We don’t need more tragedy at the Tremont.”

  “I’m pretty sure she’s just shacked up with some guy and lost track of time. No worries. What kind of tragedy do you mean, Helen?”

  “Don’t mind me. Sometimes I speak aloud when I should not. Yes, everything is great here at Tremont Lodge.
Let’s get to work.” She hands me a clipboard and my cart, stocked with supplies for the day’s work.

  “Helen, I…I can’t clean Mr. Oakley’s room,” I say.

  “Reese, it’s your job, honey. I know he’s a slob, but a room’s a room. Now get going. There’s a high school band coming in this afternoon. Chaos! Sheer chaos! Chop, chop.” She waddles down the hallway, dragging the vacuum cleaner behind her.

  I decide to tackle Lawson’s room first. Maybe he had an early morning tee time. I knock on the door. “Maid service,” I say. Nothing. Score one for Reese.

  Slipping on my gloves and turning up the music on my iPhone, which I leave on the dresser instead of hooked into headphones over my ears, I start with the bed. Once it’s stripped and has new sheets on, I throw out the little bit of trash that litters the desk and end table—no empty pizza boxes and no condom wrapper. Thank goodness. Even the room smells fresher this morning. Could it be that Lawson was trying to be neater, for my benefit?

  “Reese?”

  “In here!” Tinley pops into the room wearing a large pair of sunglasses and a long sleeve cotton dress, hardly cleaning attire.

  “Just wanted to say good morning. Sorry I’m late. Helen already chewed me out, though it lasted all of about two seconds before she hugged me and pushed the cart at me.” She smiles faintly.

  “I take it you had a good night,” I say.

  “It was…it was long.”

  “Dean?” I ask. She shakes her head yes but doesn’t look particularly happy.

  “Do you mind doing me a favor?”

  “Maybe,” I say. “What do you need?”

  “I’ll do everything I need to do in the rooms today. Honest. But can you run the vacuum? My head kind of feels like a two ton truck is slamming into it every time I hear that drat thing when Helen’s vacuuming in the hall.”

  “So, let me get this straight. You have a massive hangover, and I have to vacuum. What’s in it for me?”

  “Please, Reese.” She’s not begging or whining, and a single tear slides down her cheek. She scrunches her face like she’s in pain.

  “Take off your glasses,” I say, sitting on the end of Lawson’s bed.

  “No.”

  “Do it, or I’m getting Helen.” Tinley slides down the edge of the wall until she’s sitting on Lawson’s floor. Her dress hikes up to her knees, and she crosses her ankles. When she throws off her glasses, I gasp.

  “Tinley, what happened? Did Dean do that?” She blinks back more tears from the swollen black eye, wincing in pain with even the slightest movement of the eye.

  “He didn’t mean to,” she whispers. I am enraged, my knuckles aching as I grasp hold of the freshly made bed so that I don’t pick up the nearest object and hurl it across the room.

  “You have to report this,” I say.

  “NO! I cannot. You know we’re not supposed to mix with the guests. If the wrong person finds out…if Dean himself turns me in, then I’ll be fired and sent back home. I…can’t. I can’t go home.” Tinley is full on crying now.

  “Why can’t you go home, Tinley?”

  “Because this is my last chance—.”

  “For what?”

  “If I screw up again, my parents will cut me out—of everything—a place to live, my inheritance, their lives. You don’t understand what it’s like to have parents who hate you, Reese. If they know I’ve messed up after my dad pulled strings with his fraternity brother to get me this job, he’ll…he’ll disown me.” She swallows her last sob and starts coughing uncontrollably while dry heaving her pain.

  “But you can’t let this guy hit you. You didn’t do anything to screw up. This jackass did this to you.”

  “No, you’re wrong. I put myself in the situation, and when I wouldn’t…when I threw up before he got…well, he just pushed me off the bed. He didn’t mean to push my face into the wall.” I put my head in my hand and squeeze the tension headache that is suddenly all-consuming. I stand up and walk over to Tinley, giving her my hand to pull her up.

  “I’ll vacuum. Just do what you can.” Then I hug her because I feel like she needs that right now. And it’s while I’m hugging her that I have another flashback. I was a little girl, hugging my mother who’d been crying. I’d tried to get out from her embrace to go play, but she’d pulled me in tighter, like her life depended upon holding me. Maybe it did. Maybe Mom needed me and I wasn’t there when she needed me most. Maybe she didn’t abandon me. Maybe I abandoned her. I wipe my own tears away and help Tinley get set up in her first room for the day.

  When I return to Lawson’s room to restock his toiletries, I’m surprised to find him sitting at his desk with the television on. He’s holding my iPhone. “Fancy seeing you. I was just about to call this Blake guy and see whose phone I was holding, but then I thought he might get jealous and wonder why I had his girlfriend’s phone. Of course, then I was hatching a plan to ratchet up the tension and make him crazy jealous by telling him I spent the night riding the ski lift with his girlfriend, but, alas, you ruined everything by showing up.”

  “I highly doubt my brother Blake would give a damn with whom I spent my time.” I grab the phone out of his hand, deposit the bathroom toiletries on his counter, and slam the door behind me.

  Chapter 7:

  After work, I am exhausted. Pulling double duty cleaning as many of Tinley’s rooms as possible has done its toll. She thought she fooled Helen with her sunglasses routine by telling her that she had a massive mosquito bite by her right eye that had caused it to swell to a grotesque sight. I don’t think for a minute that Helen bought the story, but she didn’t question Tinley, though she sent her support through me by squeezing my arm every time we passed each other in the hallway.

  I tuck Tinley into bed with another dose of Ibuprofen and a warm washcloth for her eye. She tells me that her headache is almost gone, so I decide to catch the end of Finn’s show on the lawn. I know Tinley is feeling a bit better because she insists on picking out my clothes by barking orders from her bed. “No, not another tank top. For goodness sakes. Nothing says white trash more than a tank top. Take that purple dress on top of my bag.” She points to her Chanel suitcase. The dress is strapless but a long maxi-dress, so I guess it could be a good choice. She insists I wear heels, but I compromise with black wedge sandals. I make her keep her phone nearby in case she needs anything and wave goodbye as I close the door behind me.

  The moisture of the June night hangs in the air. I wonder if I should have pulled my hair up in a ponytail rather than let it fall behind my shoulders. Humidity is to my hair like a steamroller is to a bed of flowers. Everything goes flat. Finn is talking with a little girl on stage. He’s sitting on a stool, and she’s got his pick and is strumming the notes he tells her to play. It’s adorable. She has a huge grin on her face, and her mother is taking a video with her camera phone. The one and only picture I have of Tremont Lodge from my last visit was found a decade after our trip. I was rummaging through a box of my parents’ things that my grandparents had stuffed in the back of a closet in the basement. I’d discovered it a year earlier when I was looking for a heavy jacket in the same closet during a cold early fall day before Grandma had changed out the closet with the one that held the light jackets upstairs. At the time, I’d only seen the label on the box: JOHN and FRANNIE. It didn’t interest me enough to come back to the box when I had more time, and, honestly, I’d forgotten about it. My junior year of high school I’d needed some baby pictures for a collage project at school, and I was tired of always using the pictures that Grandma and Grandpa had. I wondered if there might be other pictures in that old box in the basement. There weren’t any, mostly old school papers, their marriage certificate, my ID bracelet from the hospital—in other words—nothing important. But there was also an old camera, the kind where you have to pop the film out and take somewhere to develop. The number in the window showed a 2. Grandpa told me that it meant that only 1 picture had been taken, and that if I wanted to develop
it, I had to take 23 more pictures. My dog Baxter and my grandparents indulged me while I took a lot of candid shots. I’d run down the street to our local drugstore only to be told that it would take three days for the pictures to come back. It was the longest three days of my life, at least of the life that I could remember. But it was worth the wait because amongst the close-ups of Baxter sleeping and Grandma canning tomatoes and Grandpa watching Wheel of Fortune, was a picture of my family: Dad, Mom, Blake, and me, standing in front of Tremont Lodge. Dad looked so young, though in my mind he never ages. He held my hand as I squinted into the sun. Mom was wearing a navy blue dress and flat sandals. She cradled Blake in her arms as he clutched the necklace around her neck. That necklace is the only thing I have now that I know belonged to Mom. Grandma had given it to me when I was eighteen. You’d have thought it would have been a big production, maybe a gift for my birthday or my graduation, but no. She’d been cleaning out her dresser drawers and found it then. With cleaning gloves on and dust bunnies on the floor in front of her, she’d called me into her room. “Here, Reese. Your mom wore this necklace all the time. It was with her things at the lodge. I’ll throw it out if you don’t want it.” I’d snatched the necklace out of her hands before she changed her mind, her generosity overwhelming.

  The crowd applauds, and the little girl walks offstage, the owner of a new guitar pick. Finn waves when he sees me standing behind the wooden chairs that surround the stage. “And for my final song of the night I’d like to close with a classic Sinatra hit. An older woman standing next to her husband leans into him, and I listen to Finn serenade me with The Way You Look Tonight. The older man in the couple hands his wife a paper bill to put in Finn’s guitar case. She waits in line behind the little girl with the new guitar pick who adds her own dollar.

  While Finn packs up his guitar and the next act prepares to take the stage—a comedian who I’ve heard isn’t supposed to be all that funny—I walk over to the campfire and grab a box of graham crackers. “Need help separating these for the s’mores?” I ask Bree. She’s dressed down again in a khaki pair of shorts and green polo shirt. She looks rather manly, actually, with her short haircut. I’d suggest a flower in her hair. Now I know I’ve been spending too much time with Tinley.