twenty-four | will
TWENTY-FOURWill
The door swings open and three young women glide into the office.
It’s not even eight o’clock in the morning, but Emberly’s Suite Sixteens look like runway models.
Glossy hair. Makeup. Lash extensions. And before you judge me, remember that I have three sisters.
I’ve overheard more conversations about eyebrows, mani-pedis, and hair extensions than a guy should have in one lifetime.
I set my coffee mug down on the desk.
“Can I help you?”
The women exchange a look and the blonde steps forward. I remember her from check-in. Rachelle. She has the whole professional tennis player thing going. Short skirt. Yellow polo. Tennis shoes that probably cost more than the tires on my truck.
I expect her to request fresh linens for the bed or ask me to fix a clogged drain. Instead, she steps into my personal space and her smile borders on flirtatious.
“We don’t want to break any rules, Will.”
“Rules?” I echo.
“About having too many people in a cabin. I mean, there has to be some sort of fire code.”
She’s right. Dad was a stickler about not cramming a dozen guests in a two-bedroom cabin. Believe me, people tried. But Serenity has two single beds in one room, a queen in the other, and a pull-out sofa. Technically, they aren’t breaking any “rules”.
“If this is in reference to your friend Emberly—” I’m Manager Will. Polite. Friendly. “You’re fine.”
Is it my imagination, or does she look disappointed?
Rachelle sashays back to her friends and they form a circle. When they finally break formation, it’s the brunette who approaches. Unlike her friend, she’s going for the Daisy Duke look in short shorts and a top that shows off more than it conceals.
“Our guide mentioned a hiking trail nearby. Berry something or other?”
I frown. “Berry Ridge?”
“That sounds right.”
Berry Ridge is an old logging road, so it isn’t marked as an official trail on a map.
The locals nicknamed it Beary Ridge, because of the black bear sightings.
Humans aren’t the only ones who go there for the blueberries.
It’s also a five-mile hike through some pretty rough terrain.
Based on what Reeve said about their constant complaints, I don’t think this group realizes what they’d be signing up for.
“There are other trails that are more accessible for …”
Beginners, is what I want to say. “Hikers.”
The women exchange a glance and Rachelle bares her teeth in a smile.
“We just spent three days canoeing down a river. I think we can handle walking.”
The brunette giggles and I want to ask if she was the one who complained the river was too wet.
I grab a marker and a county map from the holder on the desk. Trace a path that shaves off half a mile, but should still get them safely to the ridge.
“Do you need anything else?” I ask.
Rachelle scoops up the map. “No, this should be enough.”
I’m not sure what she means by that, but something doesn’t feel right.
“Where is Emberly?” Yes. I ask. Because I can’t help but wonder if she’s on board with their plan. And because I’m curious.
Rosie (it is a little disturbing that I remember the convertible’s name) was gone when Cab and I got back from the Grill. I went to bed at eleven, but Serenity’s windows were dark.
“I think she’s making a coffee run.” Rachelle flips her hair over her shoulder and a flash of silver catches my eye.
“I see you got your bracelet.”
Three pairs of eyes lock on me and I feel like I should explain.
“My sister helped Em put together your gift bags yesterday.”
The third member of their little posse finally speaks up. “She gives us something every year.”
I recognize her voice. Olivia, the one who made the reservation.
“Emberly’s a trust fund baby.” The blonde, Rachelle, shrugs as if it’s not a big deal. “Shopping is her thing.”
She reminds me of Veruca Salt, the obnoxious girl in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. No gratitude. No affection, either, for someone who wanted to pick out the perfect charm for her friends.
I’m not feeling like Manager Will anymore.
“That’s really nice of her … and so is picking up the tab for your vacation.” Maybe they didn’t realize that Emberly insisted on paying for the cabin this week.
No one looks surprised. In fact, they blow off my comment completely.
What am I missing here?
“Thanks for being so helpful.” Rachelle bats her fake eyelashes again. “We’ll mention it in our review.”
“Be sure to stay on the trail.” I see a flash of pink through the window. Emberly with their coffee.
They leave the map on the counter and I can hear them laughing as they walk out the door.
I don’t like it. I don’t like that Emberly considers these women her best friends but they almost seem to resent that she pays for their luxury getaways every year.
Before I can change my mind, I reach for my phone and text Reeve.
Me: You’re a girl.
Reeve: (eye roll emoji, hand smashing face emoji)
Oops.
Me: You know what I mean.
Reeve: I forgive you this time. Go on.
I don’t even know what or how to ask. My theory sounds too crazy and even though I have three sisters, I’m not an expert on women.
Me: If you didn’t want someone around, would you tell them or make their life miserable so they leave and it looks like it was their idea and you didn’t do anything wrong?
The little bubbles start and stop several times before her message finally appears.
Reeve: No and yes. And thank you for making me relive all four years of high school.
Me: I’m confused by the no and yes.
And also by the “reliving high school” part, because I can’t remember anyone ostracizing Reeve. Her brothers are built like linebackers and although they’re allowed to torment Reeve, they’d never let anyone else hurt her.
Reeve: No, I would never do that. Yes, it’s the standard MO for mean girls. And I want names.
I realize she thinks I’m asking because of Cab.
Is this the kind of stuff I have to deal with in the future? Maybe I should homeschool.
Me: It’s not Cab. I was just wondering.
She’s never going to believe me.
Reeve: I don’t believe you.
Me: Did you tell Emberly’s friends about Berry Ridge?
Reeve: I don’t know Emberly’s friends.
Me: You just spent three days with them.
There are no bubbles. Just when I’m beginning to think something else has claimed Reeve’s attention and I’m about to slide my cell back in my pocket, they appear again.
Reeve: Run.
There is no laughing face emoji, so I’m not sure if she’s kidding or not.
I don’t ask if the command refers to Emberly’s friends or to Emberly.
Because I don’t want to know.