7
Milly
Milly headed along the path to Beech Lodge, rehearsing her script in her head, partly because that way she didn’t have to think about Nicole and partly because she was very bad at difficult conversations and the only way for her to get through them was to practice until she was word-perfect. If she didn’t do that, she stuttered and said things she didn’t mean like It doesn’t matter, don’t worry about it.
Thanks to her newfound assertiveness skills, she was confident (more or less) that she could handle the situation with Brendan Scott.
She’d be polite but firm. Professional. She’d assure him that the whole team was keen to accommodate his wishes. All they required was that he express those wishes in a calm, civilized manner and not scare the staff.
Good morning, Mr. Scott. I’m the owner and manager, and I wanted to have a quick word—
No, that was too much waffle. She needed to keep it brief and direct. A man like him would appreciate that.
Mr. Scott, I’m Milly, the owner and manager. We’d be grateful if you could tell us when you’d like us to service the cabin so that we do so without intruding on your personal space.
She reached the steps that led to his cabin. Her heart was hammering, and she felt a little sick.
Honestly, what was wrong with her? The worst thing that could happen was that he’d be defensive and angry and then check out immediately in protest. But that would be pretty bad because Brendan Scott was a long-stay guest making a significant contribution to her bottom line.
Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe she wouldn’t say anything at all.
She was about to back away and retrace her steps when the door opened. Brendan Scott stood there, a look of frustration on his face. His wide shoulders filled the doorway, and all the words she’d been rehearsing flew from her head.
“Yes?”
She resisted the urge to take a step back.
He looked tired, she thought. Stressed, with shadows under his eyes. His hair looked as if he’d dragged his fingers through it a thousand times in the last hour.
She felt a stab of sympathy because although she hadn’t had a chance to look in the mirror since she’d hauled herself out of bed that morning, she was pretty sure she didn’t look much better than he did.
“I’m sorry to disturb you—”
Her voice came out as a croak. “It’s not important. I’m—”
“You’re Milly. I remember you from last time.”
He paused, and his expression shifted into a look of apology. “And you’re here to take me to task for being rude to Lorna.”
“Oh . . . you know her name?”
“She wore a badge. It said Lorna.”
There was a hint of laughter in his eyes. “I assume that’s her name, although as a crime novelist it did cross my mind that the woman at the door could have in fact murdered Lorna and was impersonating her in order to gain entrance to my cabin. It would be a good twist, don’t you think?”
Milly, who generally preferred her fiction a little less dark, recoiled. “That’s the way your mind works?”
“On a good day. Sometimes it’s just blank, as it has been for the past few days and nights, which is why I took it out on poor Lorna.”
He opened the door wider. “Come in. If you’re going to yell at me, I’d rather you did it in private.”
He stood to one side, and she hesitated and then walked into his cabin.
“For the record, I don’t yell. I’m very conflict-averse.”
She paused in the doorway, taken aback by what she saw. Every available surface, including the floor, was covered in sheets of paper, and each sheet was covered in scrawling handwriting. There were papers on the sofa and on the chairs and sticky notes on the walls.
Beech was one of their most in-demand cabins, partly because of its secluded position but also because of the wide deck that reached over the water. She could see that Brendan had set up his desk on the side of the deck that was shaded by trees. A laptop sat open, and next to it was a notepad and several pens. She counted at least six mugs on the table.
“It’s a mess, I know.”
He crouched down and moved a few sheets of paper on the floor so that she had somewhere to put her feet. “I wasn’t expecting visitors. I’ve reached a crucial part of my book, and I needed to visualize each chapter and see the flow of the story. There’s no lasting damage to the cabin, I can assure you.”
“I didn’t think there was.”
She glanced around her in fascination, slightly awed. “This is how you write a book? How do you keep it all straight in your head?”
It looked like a nightmare to her, but she didn’t consider herself to be a particularly creative person. Except in the kitchen.
“This is how I keep it all straight. This and muttering to myself. And this isn’t how I write every book. They’re all different. Some days it doesn’t go as well as other days, and then I’m not at my most sweet-natured.”
He ran his hand over the back of his neck. “I’d offer you a cup of tea, but I seem to have run out of mugs.”
She eyed the mugs lined up on the table. “That happens if you don’t load the dishwasher.”
“I guess. Now, tell me how I can make it up to Lorna. Flowers? Chocolates? A signed book by her favorite author—I might be able to pull some strings with my contacts?”
“There’s no need for that, but thank you for offering. Lorna is fine, but I’ll clean your cabin from now on, so maybe we can agree on a schedule that works for you?”
“I scared her away. Damn. So why did you draw the short straw?”
“I’m brave as a lion.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“No.”
She smiled. “I’m a total coward, but I’m the boss. The buck stops with me.”
He studied her face. “I don’t suppose you’d agree to do it at the end of my stay?”
“Two months?”
She laughed and glanced around her. “You’d be buried under your own detritus, Mr. Scott.”
“Call me Brendan. And yes, you’re probably right. Okay, then. Clean sheets and towels would be great, but until I get past this stage—”
he gestured to the papers “—I’d appreciate it if we could hold off on cleaning floors and surfaces.”
“I promise not to move a single piece of paper.”
She looked at the deck. “Can I load those mugs into the dishwasher, or are you doing a firsthand exploration on the growth of toxins in cold, long-abandoned tea?”
“It’s coffee. I’m a coffee guy.”
He looked embarrassed. “And I don’t expect you to wash up after me.”
She decided he was really very attractive when he wasn’t glowering, and it surprised her that she’d even noticed because she’d thought she was still too bruised by Richard to care about things like that.
“I want your stay to be perfect.”
She looked at the mugs again and then at the kitchen, which was pristine. “There are no dirty plates. You don’t eat?”
“When I’m deep in the book, no. At least, not what you’d call a meal. I snack. Biscuits. Those incredible croissants they sell in your café. The occasional takeout, which I dispose of afterward because I’m not a total animal.”
No vitamins, she thought. Nothing healthy. No wonder he looked tired.
“I’ll deal with the laundry, clear the kitchen and leave the rest until you ask me.”
She handed him a card. “My number is on there. Call if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
He took the card from her and followed her to the door. “You run this place with your husband? I remember signing a book for him last time I was here.”
She paused on the steps. “My grandfather purchased the land and built the first cabins. It was my mother who turned it into what it is now. She’s still involved from the sidelines, but she handed over the reins to me a couple of years ago. My now-ex-husband—”
she stumbled over the words because she still wasn’t used to saying them “—works for a pharma company and was never involved in the business. We’re divorced. He found someone else.”
He leaned against the doorframe, still watching her. “Then, he’s a fool.”
Was he flirting with her?
No, of course he wasn’t.
Richard was a fool. You only had to look at the way he behaved toward his daughter to know that.
“He is a fool, you’re right about that. Maybe you could recommend a way for me to kill him?”
She couldn’t believe she’d just said that, but Brendan Scott frowned and seemed to be giving it serious consideration.
“I’d suggest staging an accident. That way suspicion wouldn’t fall on you. I’ll put together some ideas for you, and you can pick one. A good drowning might be the answer.”
He glanced toward the lake. “It’s the perfect spot for it.”
“He doesn’t swim, so he wouldn’t be in the water.”
“Better and better. Makes drowning more plausible. Also easier.”
He rubbed his hand over his jaw, thinking. “Maybe a small boating accident?”
She laughed, which was something she rarely did when thinking about her ex-husband. “That would be terrible publicity for Forest Nest. And just so that we’re clear, I’m not asking you to do away with him.”
“I know. But occasionally it takes some of the heat out of the emotions to think about it.”
“Do you do that a lot? Plan the fate of people you don’t like?”
“Sure. It’s one of the perks of being a writer. Sometimes I give people a really grisly end.”
And now she was intrigued. “You actually put people you know in your books?”
“All the time. But they’re heavily disguised so no one but me would know who they are.”
He gestured to the books on the table. “My last book has a character who may or may not bear a slight resemblance to one of my law professors from college. A truly miserable excuse for a human being.”
“You were a lawyer?”
“Yes, although I only practiced for a short time because by some stroke of luck my first book was accepted by a publisher. Which rarely happens, by the way. I got lucky. That part of my life was more fairy tale than horror story.”
“I can’t imagine writing a book.”
“At this moment, neither can I—hence the mess and my less-than-friendly approach with Lorna. But it helps to be here. You live in a great place.”
“I think so, but not everyone agrees.”
She thought of Richard, who had moved to a city. “No bright lights. The nearest nightclub is an hour and a half away. In winter the roads are often impassable because of the weather, and in summer they’re impassable because of the tourists. To a lot of people, it’s not exciting. Which is probably why I like it.”
Maybe that was her problem. She wasn’t a very exciting person. She loved her family and her home and enjoyed baking and hiking. Was that wrong?
He studied her for a moment. “I live in New York, and trust me when I say city excitement can be overrated.”
She was flustered by the way he was looking at her.
“Why the Lakes? It seems like a long way to come for peace and quiet. Do you have a connection with the place?”
“My grandmother was born in Carlisle, although she moved to the US when she married my grandfather. And to answer your question, the book is set here so that as well as availing myself of the peace and quiet, I’m using it for inspiration.”
“Are you telling me you’ve drowned someone in our lake?”
“Not literally, but in my book? Yes. But I’ve changed the name of the lake, so don’t be concerned about it having an adverse effect on tourism.”
She was about to say that fewer tourists on the roads in the peak summer months wouldn’t be a bad thing, when she spotted Joel striding along the path.
“Ah—there’s Joel, and I need to talk to him about boring plumbing issues. What time can I come back and clean the cabin?”
“Does after two work for you? I plan on going for a walk then.”
She calculated that she could freshen the place and still be in time to pick up Zoe from school. “That’s fine.”
“Great. And if there’s anyone you would like me to turn into a victim just let me know. Always happy to help.”
“Your generosity is noted.”
She was just thinking that he was surprisingly easy to talk to when he gave her a smile of such breathtaking charm that her heart gave a couple of extra beats.
Unsettled by her own reaction, she returned the smile and hurried to meet Joel.
At least her conversation with Brendan Scott had been positive. He wasn’t leaving, and she was relieved about that. It would have been hard on their bottom line if he’d left at this stage of his booking. She ignored the little voice in her head that was telling her there were other, more personal, reasons that she was pleased he was staying.
It was a little bizarre that she had a famous author and a famous actor hiding out at Forest Nest at the same time. What next? Royalty?
She jogged the last few steps to Joel. “Hi. I was just on my way to find you.”
She paused to catch her breath and saw his expression. “What’s wrong? You couldn’t fix the leak in Aspen? We’re going to have to rehouse the guests?”
“No.”
He put down the box of tools he was carrying. “Nothing like that. I went looking for you—”
“You were my next priority after Brendan Scott. Has something happened?”
She’d never seen him so serious, and now she was worried because the last thing she needed was for things to go wrong in peak summer season when they were fully booked.
“I went to the boathouse to give you an update. I assumed you were there, and I thought I’d save us both the trouble of chasing each other round the resort, so I went inside.”
“Well, we’ve found each other now, so—”
And then she realized what he was saying. “You went inside?”
“Yes. The door was ajar. And I met your—”
he turned his head quickly, checking who was nearby “—I met your friend.”
“Ah.”
And remembering the lengths Nicole had gone to in order to avoid being recognized, Milly immediately saw the problem. “And I’m guessing she was a little freaked out.”
“That’s an understatement. I wanted to call you, but she insisted I didn’t bother you. But I thought you should know.”
He shook his head in apology. “I feel terrible about it. She obviously didn’t want anyone to know she was there, and I tried telling her that no one was going to hear it from me, but I could tell she didn’t believe me.”
“I’ll reassure her. Don’t worry, Joel.”
“How long is she going to be staying with you? Because we could consider ramping up security around the place.”
“That would probably just draw attention to the fact that she’s here. But it’s worth thinking about.”
Except that she didn’t really want to have to think about it. People came here to relax. Extra security wouldn’t look good, and people would start asking questions. “I’ll talk to her. Thanks, Joel.”
“The plumbing is a simple job, by the way. It will be fixed by the time the guests check in,”
he said. “I need to get a part, and then I’m going to do it right away. That’s what I came to tell you.”
“You’re a star.”
She hurried back along the path toward the boathouse. She wasn’t worried. Joel was completely trustworthy, and once she assured Nicole of that, she’d be fine.
The boathouse door was locked and bolted from the inside, which meant Milly had no access. She tapped lightly on the glass, but there was no response, so she took out her phone and messaged Nicole.
I’m at the door. Are you there?
Nicole appeared a moment later, almost unrecognizable in a blond wig and a pair of glasses with purple frames that dominated her face.
She opened the door.
“Sorry. I was being careful.”
“I understand. Joel told me what happened. It’s my fault for not closing the door properly when I left. I don’t always bother locking it, but I probably should.”
And with Nicole Raven hiding out in the boathouse, she definitely should.
And she saw now that underneath the wig and the glasses, Nicole looked ill.
“If you’re worried about him telling people you’re here, then don’t. I’ve known Joel a long time. He won’t mention it. But maybe we should talk about increasing security, just in case.”
“No need. I won’t be here.”
Nicole headed back into the boathouse toward Milly’s study that she’d used as a bedroom.
Confused, Milly followed her and saw Nicole push the last of her things into her small suitcase.
“You’re leaving?”
“I have to. Coming here was a mistake. I’ve made things difficult for you and also for me, and it isn’t going to work.”
She zipped the case. “I have a cab picking me up in thirty minutes. I used the name Silvia Coates by the way, in case he goes to Reception.”
“Wait. Slow down.”
Milly’s head was spinning. She hadn’t wanted Nicole to come, had she? So why was she feeling so upset at the thought of her leaving? “Are you leaving because Joel knows you’re here? He—”
“It’s not just that, although I don’t trust people as easily as you do so I’m not going to pretend it doesn’t play a part. I’m leaving because being here isn’t helping. I was running away from my life, and I ran to the only person I’ve ever been able to trust. You. My best friend. My only real friend. It was a reflex action. When I’m in trouble I reach out to you.”
Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “But things are awkward. And it’s my fault. When you were in trouble, I wasn’t there for you. I blew the most precious thing in my life. And I’m sorry for that. Sorrier than you’ll ever know. If I could turn the clock back I’d do everything differently, but that only ever happens in movies. So we’ll both just move on, and I don’t expect you to forgive me or believe me when I say that if you ever need me in the future, then reach out and I’ll be there for you. Whenever it is, whatever you need, I’ll be there.”
Milly wasn’t sure she did believe her because once a person had let you down once they could let you down again, couldn’t they? But she sounded sincere, and underneath the blond wig and the purple glasses Milly saw vulnerability and a sheen of tears.
She could see that Nicole was suffering. And just like that all the hurt and defensiveness that had been making her boil inside vanished. She’d been determined to keep her distance, but now she realized that however strained things were, however difficult, the bond between them was still there and probably always would be.
“I don’t want you to leave.”
“I have to, and not just because things are difficult between us. I’m a mess, Milly. My life is a mess. You have no idea.”
Nicole’s voice was thickened with emotion. “I thought by coming here I’d have space to figure things out, but it’s more complicated than that. I had a panic attack when Joel walked into the kitchen. Did he tell you that?”
“Of course you did. There was a strange man in the house. Anyone would have—”
She stopped, seeing Nicole’s expression change. “You mean you had a real panic attack? Not a figure of speech? No, he didn’t tell me that.”
How long had Nicole been having panic attacks, and why didn’t she know about it?
And in what way was Nicole’s life a mess? Was this just about her affair with Justin, or was there something else?
She felt a mix of frustration and sadness as she compared how their relationship used to be with how it was now. A few years ago she wouldn’t have been asking herself these questions because she would have already known all the answers.
Nicole folded the T-shirt Milly had lent her. “I asked him not to, so I suppose it’s a point in his favor that he respected that. And to be fair, the poor man handled it well, particularly given that he couldn’t possibly understand. And I overreacted, of course, because of everything that has happened.”
“What has happened? You haven’t actually told me any of it. We haven’t talked.”
“You were busy,”
Nicole muttered, and Milly squirmed a little inside.
She had been busy. She was always busy, but that wasn’t it, was it? Not really.
Nicole had tried to talk to her several times. Last night when they’d walked into the boathouse. This morning when Milly was rushing off to work.
Milly had brushed her off not because she was busy but because she was hurt. Also the conversation with Nicole would have been uncomfortable, and she avoided uncomfortable conversations.
If she was a different type of person, a better person, she would have sat down and talked right away. She would have told Nicole how upset she was, and they would have discussed it in a mature fashion, but instead Milly had held everything inside and nurtured the hurt.
“How long have you been having panic attacks?”
“It really doesn’t—”
“How long?”
“Just over a year. Ever since that man broke into my house.”
Milly went cold. “Someone broke into your house? Oh, Nic—”
“Hazard of being famous.”
Nicole gave a careless lift of her shoulders. “They do tours past movie stars’ homes, did you know that? Hey, you know that actor you’re fixated on? That’s where she sleeps every night. I try not to think about it.”
A man broke into her house.
Milly felt a flush of shame. She’d made the mistake of judging from the outside. Of thinking that everything in Nicole’s life was pretty perfect and that she could buy whatever wasn’t. But that wasn’t true, was it? You couldn’t buy anonymity.
And while she’d been wallowing in her problems, Nicole had been battling her own. And she hadn’t known or even suspected.
“You didn’t call me. You didn’t even tell me.”
“Well, by then we weren’t really talking, and I hadn’t responded to all your trauma with Richard, so I didn’t feel particularly deserving of your sympathy. It’s fine. Everything was fine. I have a panic button. The police came quickly. I was lucky. It’s in the past.”
Nicole grabbed her phone from the bed and dropped it into her bag.
Not so lucky, Milly thought, and not in the past if her reaction to Joel was anything to go by.
“How did he get in? You have massive walls and gates and security.”
“Yeah, well, it turns out that my security guy wasn’t as loyal as I’d thought. He took a bribe. The plan was to kidnap me and demand a ransom. Can we talk about something else?”
Milly was flooded with horror. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. I should have been there for you. I would have been there for you.”
Emotion filled her chest and rose to her throat. “How did we reach this point, Nic? We used to tell each other everything.”
Nicole gave a tired smile. “We were kids, Milly. What we had to tell each other wasn’t exactly life-changing, was it?”
“It shouldn’t matter. Maybe the conversations get tougher, but when have we ever not been able to talk to each other? If anything, it’s even more important that we talk about the life-changing stuff. Isn’t that what friendship is?”
“In theory.”
Nicole paused, as if she was about to say something else, but then she shook her head. “Maybe we just expected too much.”
“I refuse to believe that.”
Milly felt as if she was holding tightly to something that was slipping through her fingers.
“I let you down,”
Nicole said softly. “I wasn’t there for you, and we’ll never get past that.”
“Yes, we will. We can fix this. The blame isn’t all yours. It’s mine too.”
She could see that now. “I was upset. You’d shown that you didn’t need me, and I was determined to show you that I didn’t need you either. It was easier to keep my distance than have a frank conversation. I’m not good at difficult conversations, you know that. Ask Richard if you don’t believe me. I let him leave messages so that I don’t have to actually talk to him. I’m pathetic.”
Nicole gave a faint smile. “Not pathetic. I get it with Richard. But us? If there was one thing you and I did well, it was talk.”
“And that’s still the case.”
Milly felt terrible. She’d been unforgiving and unyielding. It hadn’t occurred to her that something bad might be happening in Nicole’s life. In trying to protect herself from more hurt and be more assertive, she’d kept herself at a distance, but was she really going to let pride and fear of rejection stop her from trying to fix what they’d broken?
“Don’t go. We’ll talk. Right now. I want to hear about everything that has happened to you. I want you to tell me about Justin.”
Her phone started to ring, but she ignored it.
“You have a job,”
Nicole said. “People relying on you. You should answer it.”
“No, I can—”
Her phone rang again, and this time she checked it and saw a message from Lorna marked urgent. She sighed. “You’re right, I do need to answer this. But promise me you won’t go anywhere. Lock the door behind me, and this evening, after Zoe has gone to bed, we’ll talk. Please?”
Nicole looked at her for a long moment and then nodded.
“If that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
And it didn’t matter how uncomfortable the conversation made her, they were going to have it. “Cancel that cab.”