Chapter One #3
She even spotted two people walking by in light pink leotards and leggings, sheer skirts around their waists, hair in tight buns at the napes of their necks.
April remembered hearing Cloverwild would have dance instructors à la Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing, as well as gourmet meals served in a huge dining room complete with a shiny dance floor, waterskiing, guided midnight hikes to Moon Lovers Trail, spa treatments, watercolor classes, and pottery.
You name it, Cloverwild was probably offering it.
For the right price.
April spotted Mia Gallagher behind the front desk, her phone cradled between her ear and shoulder while she tapped away on her iPad.
Mia was in her midforties and had brown skin and long dark-and-silver braids.
Her family’s grocery store—which had started as a stall at the Clover Lake farmer’s market back in the 1940s and was now a statewide chain, soon to go national if the rumors were to be believed—had given her the means to invest in prime lakefront real estate and open a resort like Cloverwild.
“Hey there,” Mia said as April approached the desk, taking her phone off her ear and tossing it—a bit violently, if you asked April—onto the desk. “Good to see you.”
“Everything okay?” April asked as Mia took a slug from the largest coffee cup April had ever seen. It was like a Big Gulp from 7-Eleven.
“Ask me tomorrow,” Mia said. “No, wait, ask me next month. Maybe even September. Hell, ask me in five years.”
“That good, huh?” April asked. She knew opening a new business was hard as shit—she couldn’t imagine getting one of this scale off the ground.
Closing a business, however…
April shook her head, ignoring the sudden spike of panic and sadness in her gut.
Mia seesawed her hand in the air. “Big picture is fine. Little tiny details that make me question my existence on earth? That’s a different story.”
April laughed. Mia was funny. Always had been. She had a dry sense of humor April appreciated, and as one of the first out-and-proud lesbians April had ever met, Mia was a bit of an icon in April’s mind, a touchstone for all the baby queers in Clover Lake.
“Let me grab your key,” Mia said. “Your cabinmate hasn’t checked in yet.”
“No worries,” April said. “More time to get settled.” She’d known from the jump that she’d have a cabinmate, who was also her co-teacher for the art classes. April was ready for the distraction, and excited to plan a fun and unique curriculum.
“Oh, hey, a guest mentioned you the other day,” Mia said as she riffled through a stack of papers with key cards clipped to the corners. “When they called to check their reservation.”
“Really?” April asked. “Who?”
“Nicola something. Let me see…” Mia moved over to the computer and clicked around. “Reece. Nicola Reece. Apparently she works at some fancy museum in London.”
“And she’s staying in Clover Lake?” April said.
Mia laughed. “Right? But I guess she came to town a few summers ago with her partner and loved it. She said you did a tattoo for her.”
April frowned, trying to recall the name, but her mind was blank. She did a million tattoos a year, and she remembered most of them, but she’d always been a visual learner. A name wasn’t going to do much for her. “I’m better with faces. And the tattoo itself. Did she say what it was?”
“No, but she’s taking all your art classes, so I’m sure you’ll see her then,” Mia said as she went back to searching for April’s information. “Ah, here we go.”
She handed April a dark green card with Cloverwild’s logo etched on it in gold—the resort name and a canoe stretched underneath the length of the word—along with a few sheets of paper.
“That’s your itinerary, your cabinmate’s information, your class schedule and rosters, things like that.
There’s a map of the property on the back.
It’s all online too, but some people like a physical copy. ”
April tucked the key into her pocket, then thanked Mia before heading for the door and her contraband cats, scanning the top paper as she went.
Her eyes snagged on a set of letters.
A name.
She froze, slowly turning back toward the desk.
“Hey, Mia?”
“Yeah, hon?” Mia asked, shuffling through another stack of papers.
“Is this right?” April’s heart had sped up, then left its designated place in her body, catapulting around like a pinball.
“Is what right?”
“This name.” April blinked at the two words. “My…”
Her cabinmate.
Her co-teacher.
A name she definitely knew, no face required.
“It’s all correct, whatever it is,” Mia said, who understandably didn’t have time for whatever meltdown April was currently experiencing. “Checked it myself this morning. Excuse me.” She frowned down at her phone, then hurried off toward the kitchen.
April barely noticed any of that though. Barely heard Mia’s answer. She stood in the middle of the room, fingers trembling on the papers, her vision blurring as she stared down at the name of the very person who had ruined her life three years ago.