I step forward and hold on to his lapel. “I want you, Dexter.”
He lifts his brows. “Tell me that in two weeks, and I just might believe you.” He steps to the side so he can get around me. “Our time is up,” he booms theatrically for Mallory’s benefit. “I have another appointment.”
I follow him, only stopping at the door to face him one last time. I’m so shaken up, I can’t even look him in the eyes. “Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Van Clark.”
“Don’t thank me yet, Miss Davies.” He nods to the envelope I’m still clutching in my right hand. “Study up. There’s a lot of history in there you should brush up on. The family who owns the camp you’ll be going to has owned it for decades. Since the father retired, he left the business to his four sons, but only one of them still works there. I don’t think they’re all on speaking terms. I don’t know why.”
The air goes cold, and suddenly it’s as though everything is moving in slow motion. Every sip of air feels like a struggle to breathe. His words are the final pieces of a puzzle clicking in place. And now I understand why Silver was the one who recommended me for the job.
“You’re sending me to Camp Bexley?” I ask, needing the confirmation before I react in any way.
Dexter looks amused by my guess. “You know of it?”
It amazes me how little Dexter knows about my past. “I used to work there. It was on my resume,” I add, wondering if that will trigger anything for him.
“Ah, your old stomping grounds. Even better. I guess you won’t have much studying to do after all.” He winks, and for a second, I think the two of us might be okay, but then I remember where he’s sending me.
Back to Orcas Island.
Back to Camp Bexley.
Back to him.
Chapter Three
ANDERSON
The hours tick by, well past the time the marketing representative that Silver hired was scheduled to arrive. As I work through the day, tending to the stables, checking on contractors who are unloading furniture and boxes of decor into the newer cabins, and analyzing financial documents in my office, eight o’clock in the morning becomes noon, then noon becomes four in the evening—at which point I’m convinced Silver relayed the information wrong.
Major fail, I type with quick fingers. The saving grace you hired is a no-show.
What?! Silver responds quickly. There’s no way. The contract was signed, and the owner himself assured me she would be there first thing in the morning. Maybe her ferry was delayed. Let me check.
Annoyance rumbles through me. One of the things my father instilled in all his sons since we were little was the importance of respecting the time we give and take from others. The fact that a professional company is sending me an employee who doesn’t show up on time is a major red flag.
Maybe this was a bad idea. I let out a heavy sigh, realizing my negative attitude might come across as ungrateful when Silver was only trying to help. Thank you for everything, but I can figure this out on my own.
She’s quick to type back. Calm down. She’s already there.
I sit back in my chair, and my eyes lock on the security feed aimed at the empty parking lot. No, she’s not. I’m staring at the parking lot now.
Not there at the camp yet, but she’s on the island. She says she’s heading there now.
Confused at how Silver has access to this person when I don’t even know the woman’s name is beyond me, but as I’m about to type another disgruntled message, a fancy white car enters the parking lot.
It’s not a great first impression—not at all—but I promise Silver I’ll be nice to the poor marketing rep then begin my short walk to greet her.
Walking the trails always feels so strange during these blackout weeks when staff is absent. The camp is naturally peaceful but hardly ever quiet. Not when kids are tearing down the trails, splashing into the lake, and screaming during playtime on the big, open field.
I know that these are the times when I should allow myself to bask in the stillness of it all and just breathe. But at thirty-six years old, it’s harder than ever to turn my brain off, even when I need to most. There’s always something to worry about or fix. And I find it difficult not to resent my brothers for leaving me to manage it all on my own.
Then again, why should I be surprised? Everyone leaves. I’ve grown used to that disheartening fact. I’ve had to after all that I’ve experienced over the years with different guests every week and employee turnover. Camp is where everyone comes for a good time. It’s not where they stay forever. There’s too much heartbreak in attachment, which is why I keep my personal and business relationships at arm’s length. Life is safer that way.
My focus moves back to the sports car that’s now parked in one of the first stalls. The door finally opens and a metallic-gold high heel plants itself on the concrete, followed by another.
Dread fills me at my second negative impression of this woman. First, she’s late. Second, she’s dressed like she’s expecting five-star accommodations, which is the complete opposite of what she’s about to get.
Working my way from her impressive heels, I pan up to find her wearing an equally impressive silky, yellow jumpsuit that stops above the ankles, and a short white blazer around her shoulders and arms. Thick and long brown hair curls down her back, bright pink lipstick coats her pouty lips, and big black shades act like a mask hiding half her face. Until she bows her head and slips them off and I get my first true look at the woman I’m supposed to trust to help with my grand reopening.
I’m not sure what stops working first—my heart or my throat. But the second I recognize Hope is the moment the pain of losing her comes crashing and burning all around me. The damage I did, the woman I lost, the deep-seeded desire I smothered like it wasn’t the last flame left standing in my life.
She was the one. The only one I’d ever felt could make my dimly lit world a better place, and I pushed her away as though she didn’t even matter.
“Hello, Anderson. I’m sorry I’m late, but I—” She shakes her head, her face flush with embarrassment—or unease. Whatever it is, she’s nothing like the bubbly and always-smiling woman I remember. “I was getting reacquainted with my surroundings. It’s been a while.” She steps forward, shooting her hand out to shake mine.
I stare at it, confused by her professionalism, but I take it, because I suppose I should play along. Her hand is soft to the touch, but firm in my grip, like a true business professional. It seems she’s taken to her new city life quite well. But my brain is still clicking together like a puzzle, wondering how the hell I hadn’t seen this one coming. Or rather, how I hadn’t suspected Silver was up to more than she was letting on when she told me to trust her.
“Nice to see you again.” They’re my first awkward words spoken to her after a year apart, and I curse myself in my head at how cold they sound coming out. But it’s as if I’m looking at a stranger.
Her smile is pinched when she takes her hand back. “Right. Well, once I get situated, we can get started.” Her focus darts over my shoulder, and her eyes become glossy for a moment. Just as fast, she seems to snap out of whatever thoughts took hold, and she’s walking to her trunk while pushing a button on her clicker.