Chapter 7 Noelle
Noelle
“Wow,” I say as we enter the lobby of the Rolling Hills Resort. I feel immediately silly saying that, but when I look to Leif, he’s smiling at me.
“I have the same reaction every time. It’s kind of embarrassing.”
“I feel like my brother meeting you,” I say.
Leif blushes. It’s really fucking cute.
“Dan was really into rocket ships as a kid. It’s what got him into video games—space invasion games were his favorite.”
“Maybe I should play with him sometime.”
“No thank you!”
Leif grins.
I shake Dan from my head, focusing on the gorgeousness that is the Rolling Hills. “So do you get to stay here anytime you want?”
“Technically I guess I could. But my Grandpa’s not getting any younger, so I usually like staying with him and Connie when I’m in town.”
“Have your family always been hotel moguls?”
He laughs. “It’s just this one. My grandmother bought it back when it was a rundown eyesore, and my aunt Cass took over after Grandma passed.”
I grill him for a few minutes, fascinated that it was the matriarchy in his family that took the lead on this place.
The love and care they’ve put into the hotel is evident not just by the gorgeous appointments—the huge marble lobby and giant waterfall structure next to the plate glass windows overlooking the valley—but by the way everyone who works here seems genuinely happy to be here. None of their smiles look fake.
An older bellboy—bellman?—passes while I’m still looking around in awe a few minutes later.
“I do the same thing every mornin’ when I come to work,” he says, then gives me a grandfatherly wink.
“Sometimes I wish I grew up here,” Leif says.
We have a few minutes before our reservation is ready at the restaurant, so we settle down into the buttery leather sofas next to the Christmas tree.
“My cousins did—they had the run of the hotel, just like my dad and his siblings did when they were kids.”
“You came to visit though, right?”
“I spent whole summers here.”
“What’s your favorite memory here?”
He hesitates, then looks around as if someone might be listening.
There’s no one nearby. “What is it?” I ask, curious now.
“Seeing the ghost of Eleanor Cleary.”
“What?”
“Haven’t you heard about her?” He asks. To the shake of my head, he says, “She was a woman who was murdered here back in the 1920s by her jealous husband. They say she haunts the hotel.”
Leif looks away when he says that last part.
“You don’t believe that, do you?”
Leif shrugs. “I shouldn’t. But…” he hesitates as if debating whether to tell me. “I can’t explain what I saw, either.”
When I demand he tell me, he says, “Okay, but you have to promise not to laugh.”
“Of course not!”
“I was playing outside one summer with my cousin Enzo—my dad’s brother Eli’s son. We were in the middle of this stick-sword battle—I think we were nine or ten. And out of nowhere, Enzo just froze. I almost whacked him with the stick. Then I turned to see what he was staring at.”
I lean forward. “What was it?”
“There was a woman. She was in the hotel, on the ground floor, opening a window. She looked strange. Old-fashioned. Pearls. Bobbed hair. White gloves.”
“A hotel guest?” I don’t think he’d make this up, but I can’t help being skeptical. They were kids.
“No. I knew she wasn’t right away. Enzo too. We just knew.”
I can tell he’s waiting for me to laugh, even though I promised I wouldn’t. I don’t know what I believe, but I know he believes it. I also know he’s a scientist, someone who wouldn’t believe anything he sees.
When I don’t, he clears his throat. “She stared at us a minute with this…look on her face. I can’t explain it—it was almost a wistful kind of expression. That sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?”
I find myself saying no and shaking my head. I can picture it. My skin tingles. “What happened after that?”
“She walked away from the window and kind of disappeared into the darkness of the room.”
“Wow.”
A beat passes. “But that’s not even the weirdest part.”
“What was?”
“The window left with her.”
“What?”
Leif gives a dry laugh. “I know it sounds insane. And I didn’t realize it until she was gone, but the window we’d seen her in was tall and skinny and had this intricate glasswork at the top.
But after she left, I realized the windows on the hotel looked nothing like that.
They were big and square. Including the one she would have been standing next to. ”
That tingling spreads down my spine. “Holy shit.”
“I thought I’d somehow made it up, except Enzo saw her too. We both looked at each other after, completely confused. We’ve never talked about it since, and I didn’t mention it to anyone at the time. I knew they’d think we made it up.”
I sit back again. “So how do you know it was Eleanor?”
“Besides the rumors we all grew up with, I finally told my mom a few years ago when she brought up the story. She went pale, then said we had to call my Aunt Nora, since she and my Uncle Jude were the ones who’d been most invested in Eleanor’s story.
They flew to Switzerland after they found out Eleanor and her lover had traveled there with Eleanor’s husband.
Made a documentary movie about it and everything. ”
My head spins. “A movie? But also, wait, she was married?”
“Yeah, to a total scumbag. Mom said he was a philanderer and a low-level criminal who was eventually arrested for…I think white-collar crimes and abusing his workers maybe…I’m not sure exactly. But Mom said ‘he had a woman in every port’ and that it was harder to divorce those days.”
I’m rapt now, leaning forward again in my chair. “So what happened in Switzerland?”
“I don’t really remember the details except that Nora and Jude discovered Eleanor and her lover—her husband’s driver—had a child together that they dropped off in a convent in Switzerland, since she was still under her philandering husband’s thumb then.
It was Mom who found out that Eleanor’s lover—John?
No, James—stayed in Quince Valley after her murder.
Or moved back here, maybe. He lived under an assumed name.
But he left journals indicating there was someone in town he looked after from a distance.
A girl Mom and Aunt Nora think was his daughter. ”
“But how did she make it back here?”
He looks sheepish. “I don’t really know all the details. But you can find the articles online from when it all went down, before I was born. I can send them to you if you want?”
My stomach flips. “I can look them up.”
A flash of something passes over Leif’s face. Disappointment? Rejection?
“Was this all a ruse to get my email address?” I joke.
But Leif’s not laughing.
“Leif,” I say softly. “We could exchange emails and phone numbers, but I think it’s better this way, don’t you? This way we get to surprise each other with ghost stories.”
He laughs, but the smile doesn’t meet his eyes. “I guess you’re right.”
L’Aubergine, the fine dining restaurant off the lobby, is just as magical as the rest of the hotel.
Soft holiday jazz greets us, along with garland and twinkling lights on every surface.
Candles nestled in holly flicker on the tables, making the space feel cozy despite the fact that the restaurant is enormous, with a whole wall made of plate glass just like the lobby.
We’re seated at a table next to the giant window, and a few minutes later, we’ve just gotten our drinks when an impeccably dressed woman in her sixties cuts across the restaurant toward us, beaming.
“A little bird told me you were going to be here tonight,” the woman says.
Leif stands up. “Aunt Cass!”
Leif’s aunt wears a navy pantsuit; her silver hair done up in a neat chignon. I can’t help staring. She epitomizes how I want to look when I’m her age: graceful and owning her age in a way that makes me yearn to be there too.
I go to stand, but she shakes her head. “Please, you’re all good.”
“Noelle,” Leif says, “This is my Aunt Cassandra. She’s the long-time CEO of the Rolling Hills resort.”
“Not for long,” Cass says. “I’m retiring next year. Jack’s taking over.”
“I forgot,” Leif says. “End of an era.”
“Lovely to meet you, Noelle,” Cass says.
“And it’s an honor to meet you.”
Cass smiles. “You know, my dad would not stop raving about you back when you two first met.”
My cheeks immediately grow hot. Did Leif’s grandfather tell her how we met? With Leif and I covered only in a hastily draped sheet after our one-night stand?
My eyes snap to Leif, but he’s looking away, his mouth twisted slightly. He’s trying not to laugh.
I scowl, then quickly rearrange my expression into a smile. “Well, it was lovely meeting your father, too.” Mortifying, but lovely.
“Anyway,” Cass says, “I won’t keep you two. Just wanted to say hi, and let you know everything’s set up, Leif.”
If this were a date, seeing the way his family is with him would check off some major boxes. It’s so warm and fuzzy I want to be a part of it.
Then I register what she said. “What’s everything?”
Leif opens his mouth, but Cass says, “Your meal’s on the house.”
Cass refuses to listen to my objections; just puts her hand up and says, “I hope you two have a wonderful night, and if you decide to stay, remember our doors are fully equipped with locks.”
She winks at Leif as I shrink down into my seat. “They know!” I whisper.
Leif grins. “Sorry. Grandpa thought it was hysterical how we met.”
“Oh my God.” I hold the menu over my head. “I’m never coming out of here again.”
Despite my promises, I do in fact come out from behind the menu, eventually, and we have the most incredible meal. A Belgian endive and blue cheese salad, lobster bisque, steak-frites, and a gorgeous mousse cake for dessert. Plus the good part of a bottle of a delicious Pinot Noir.