Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
L izzie woke up exhausted Tuesday morning after a restless night filled with half-remembered dreams featuring Renic. She wanted to roll over and go back to sleep, but the sun was rising and she had work to do, so she eased out of bed, careful not to wake Della, grabbed her phone and a change of clothes, and padded to the bathroom to get ready.
She could hear Jordanna snoring in the guest room as she tiptoed past and down the stairs. There was no reason to wake either of her houseguests this early, so she let them sleep.
Lizzie spent the morning organizing the makeready for the wedding, and the early afternoon making sure rooms were ready for the new guest. It was almost three when she stopped for lunch in the enormous kitchen where Carrie reigned as head cook and best friend.
Lizzie lowered herself onto a stool at the kitchen island and sighed with relief. “I need more sleep.”
Carrie set a sandwich and pasta salad in front of her. “Not enough hours in the day before a wedding, but it’s coming together. The new arch looks great covered in twinkle lights. That was a good call.”
“Thanks, but can’t take the credit on that one. It was actually Mark’s idea.” She took a bite of the roast beef with provolone sandwich. “This is delicious. Thanks, Carrie.”
“So who’s the guest tonight? Think they’ll like chicken pot pie?” Carrie asked.
“If you make it, he’ll like it.” She licked her lips. “If he doesn’t, I’ll eat it.”
“What’s the event this time?”
“He’s setting up for a business retreat that starts this Sunday afternoon, after the wedding guests leave. Not sure why Mr. Webber wanted to come so early, but his fee paid for the plumbing repairs so I didn’t question it. I’m glad the wedding party isn’t that big. We actually have a room available.”
“Nice. Well, I have cookies ready for him when he arrives, and dinner will be at six thirty.”
“Thanks, Carrie.” In the stillness, she heard the front door open. “Think that’s him, unless the contractor forgot something.”
“Oh. I’ll get the cookies. Just stall a second.”
Lizzie patted her front pocket to make sure the key to the Violet Room was still where she’d stashed it, then hurried out to greet the new guest.
She put on her brightest smile as she left the kitchen and called out, “Hey there, welcome to—”
She stopped dead in her tracks, and she once again found herself staring at the one person she did not want to see.
Ever.
Renic stood in the middle of the entry with a bag in one hand and a smug look on his face. He said something she didn’t hear, because her brain was still processing the fact that he was standing there.
She had a guest coming any second. She didn’t have time for this. She...why was he looking at her as if he was expecting a reply?
She blinked against her own confusion and asked, “What did you say?”
Renic grinned at her. “I said I’m here to check in. It’s under the name Fred Webber.”
Fred Webber.
A little pulse of heat shot straight to her cheeks and down her neck.
Fred Webber was Jackson Renic.
She realized she was holding her breath and pushed the air out.
Renic’s grin widened. “Seager and Associates business retreat…ring a bell?”
“You—” She shut her mouth before every rude word she knew slid out.
“Well, this is a first. I finally managed to get the last word.” He looked around. “Nice place. It could use a little touch-up here and there, but I like the old-world feel of it. What room am I in?”
Lizzie spun on her heels and stalked toward the kitchen. If she looked at him one more second she’d either start screaming, or she’d use his body for kickboxing practice.
She was a professional, dammit. She would not let him goad her into something she’d regret later.
“Should I just wait here?” Renic called after her.
She stormed into the kitchen and slammed the door shut behind her.
Carrie looked up from where she was plating cookies. “What’s wrong? The guest not show? ”
“Oh, he showed. The bastard.” Lizzie stomped into the office. She did a quick double-check of the booking, in case there was some detail that would get her out of this mess.
There wasn’t.
Carrie joined her, looking confused and concerned. “What’s wrong?”
“That son of a…” Lizzie glared at the screen where the deposit showed “Paid” in bright green letters. “He tricked me. That lying son of a bitch tricked me.”
“Who? Mr.—What did you say his name was? Webster?”
“It’s Renic. Jackson Renic. He booked under a different name.” She swore a long and satisfying string of words.
Carrie frowned. “Why’d he do that?”
"Because I told him no. I kicked him out yesterday so he tricked his way in today. That man is unstoppable when he wants something. I never realized how freaking annoying that was until now.” Lizzie looked up at Carrie. “What the hell am I going to do? I already spent the money.”
Carrie leaned against the door, looking thoughtful. “This is the guy you told me about? The record label guy?”
She nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak. She had an annoying habit of crying when she was pissed off, and she could already feel the tears forming.
Carrie said, “And you can’t give the money back?”
Lizzie shook her head. “I used his deposit to pay the plumber.”
“Oh. That’s slick. Well played.” Carrie nodded appreciatively. “Smart, really.”
Lizzie glared at her.
“Well, you have to give him props for creativity, at least. You could have just tossed him back out again. Really the only way it would’ve worked is if he knew you needed the money.” Carrie’s eyes narrowed. “Did he? ”
“I don’t see how he could have, but I wouldn’t put it past him. He has a way of finding out things that’s almost supernatural.” She thought about the phone call. She hadn’t recognized the voice of the woman making the reservation at the time, but now that she thought about it, there was a familiar phrase here and there in the conversation that should have tipped her off. “It was Morgan. I’d bet on it. Damn, the two of them together are really annoying.”
“Morgan?”
“His assistant. I bet anything it was her making the reservation. I thought the voice sounded odd, but I just figured she had a cold or something.” She went back over the conversation again in her head and nodded with more certainty. “It was her. She was super friendly, asked a lot of questions. I should have known.”
Lizzie groaned and put her head down on the desk.
“I think you’re stuck,” Carrie said. “If you can’t give him a refund, you’re going to have to let him stay.”
Lizzie glared at the list of rooms she kept on the wall next to the desk. “Can I put him in the storage shed?”
Carrie gave an approving nod. “Interesting, and I like where your head is at, but I’d say no. Pretty sure that would affect your ratings. You could put him in the Closet, though. It’s the smallest room, in the worst location, but it is a room. Technically. That’d serve him right.”
Carrie’s suggestion sparked an idea so good, Lizzie’s grin made her face hurt. “It’s not the worst location. Not right now.”
Carrie eyed her with suspicion. “What do you mean? You can’t put him in a dog house. We don’t have one.”
“No, no. He’ll stay inside the inn, just like we promised.” Lizzie opened the drawer where she stored the room keys and dropped the one she’d been carrying around in her pocket all day into it. She plucked out another old-fashioned-looking key with a white ribbon embellished with miniature red roses. “In fact, he’ll stay in one of the very best rooms.”
Lizzie dangled the key for Carrie’s inspection and waited for the reaction.
Carrie peered at it. “The Rose Room? You can’t put him in the Rose Room.”
“Why not? The plumbing’s fixed. The water’s on. The toilet works and everything.”
Carrie stared at her like she’d grown a third eye. “I saw it last night. The walls are still all torn up.”
“Still smells delightful too. They haven’t done the odor treatment yet.” Lizzie beamed.
“Oh, this is not a good idea.” Carrie chuckled. “I love it.”
Lizzie rubbed her cheeks as she walked through the kitchen to get rid of the smirk.
“You want to give him these?” Carrie pointed to the little plate of double chocolate chip cookies she’d arranged.
“No,” Lizzie said. “Give them to the crew.”
She opened the door and found Renic where she’d left him in the middle of the entry. He’d put his bag down but otherwise had stayed put, which was surprising.
Carrie followed her out. The two of them stood shoulder to shoulder to contemplate the new arrival.
Carrie leaned close and whispered, “Damn. You kicked that out?”
“Hush,” Lizzie hissed.
Carrie’s eyes sparkled with glee that Lizzie wished she’d tone down. She didn’t want Renic suspecting anything until it was too late. What was good for the goose and all that.
“Hello, Mr. Webster, was it?” Carrie held out a hand for Renic to shake .
He shook her hand and gave her the smile he used to charm musicians and influence lawyers to make deals. “Renic. Jackson Renic.”
“Carrie Collins. Head chef. Very nice to meet you, Mr. Renic.” Carrie sounded a little too enthusiastic. “Welcome to the Belhurst. You need anything to eat, just let me know.”
“Later.” Lizzie bumped Carrie’s shoulder. “I need to show him to his room, and you need to organize for the wedding.”
“Oh, the delivery’s done for the day, and the menu’s all planned,” Carrie said. “I can help if you want. I can carry his bag or something.”
Carrie flashed a wide, inviting smile at Renic.
“We got it, Carrie.” Lizzie glared at her friend. “You have dishes to wash.”
“Ouch,” Carrie said, looking amused. “But fair point. I’ll see you later, Mr. Renic.”
Renic’s smile deepened. “Just Renic. Pleasure to meet you, Chef Carrie.”
“Pleasure is all mine.” Carrie winked at Lizzie. “I want details,” she whispered.
Lizzie ignored her.
“Follow me.” She brushed past Renic.
Lizzie could feel his penetrating gaze on her back. It made her back prickle. She needed to put him on the defense for a change.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Tell me something. How’d you know I needed the money?”
“You mentioned plumbing,” Renic shrugged. “I don’t care what went wrong, that’s expensive. My parents had a small pipe burst once in the garage, and they ended up having to fix the foundation. Cost over twenty grand, and that was a fairly new house. ”
She stopped climbing so she could give him the glare he so richly deserved. “It was a jerk move.”
“It’s the only move you left open to me.” He looked satisfied with himself. “I told you, I need to talk to Della. I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.”
“You know, from this angle I could kick you in the head if I wanted.”
He smirked. “You won’t.”
“Give me one good reason why not.”
“You’re too nice.”
“That’s what you think.” Lizzie continued up the stairs, annoyed that he was right. She’d rather see his face when he saw the room.
She reached the landing and stopped at the linen closet for a clean set of sheets, which she handed to Renic. He raised his eyebrows but took them without comment.
“It’s been three years, Lizzie. How long are you going to hold this grudge?” Renic asked.
“It’s not a grudge.” She picked up two new pillows from the top shelf and shoved them at her unwanted guest, then continued down the hall. “It’s a genuine assessment of character. Or the lack of it, really.”
She stopped at the door to his room, unlocked it, and pushed it open.
“Welcome to the Rose Room.” She put the key on the little table just inside the door and took a quick look around.
The bathroom had smudges of something dark and disgusting around the toilet and black marks on the floor. Trash was piled in the corner of the tub. The entire east wall was down to the studs. The mattress was bare. The windows were wide open to let in a breeze, which did very little to diminish the remaining eau de toilet that remained in the air .
A satisfied smile lifted the corners of her mouth.
Perfect.
She turned to watch Renic survey the room. His smug delight shifted to horrified disbelief in slow motion.
She smiled sweetly at him. “Enjoy your stay.”