Chapter 24
Lizzie
Three days had passed since Sarah’s mother showed up.
Fortunately, there had been little fallout.
Derek had made some snide comment about family drama in the lobby, but Sarah shut him down with one look and he hadn’t brought it up again.
Peter Lassiter had sent her an email, complaining about uncouth behaviour.
Stavros hadn’t chimed in, but he was away in New York for a few days.
The morning had that thick quality Key West mornings sometimes had. Already hot before nine, the ceiling fans working overtime. Lizzie had stopped fighting the humidity weeks ago.
She was halfway through her second cup of coffee when Chrisla called her to the front desk.
“Cynthia checked out early.”
Lizzie looked up. “How early?”
“Two days before she was supposed to leave.” Chrisla reached under the desk and produced an envelope. “Left this for you.”
Lizzie’s name was written across the front in large, looping letters. She opened it.
Thanks for everything, Lizzie! I hope the rest of your stay here is as adventurous as you deserve!
She read it twice. Turned it over. Nothing on the back.
“As adventurous as you deserve,” Chrisla said, reading over her shoulder. “That’s ominous.”
“Very. Am I going to wake up with frogs in my bed? Did she bring in bedbugs?” She paused. “Maybe she’s written a letter to the board to complain about what she saw in the lobby. Between Sarah and her mom.”
She hadn’t told Chrisla in detail what had occurred that day, just that it was family drama related to the past. Chrisla hadn’t pushed. But there had been whispers, of course.
“Too bad she saw it happen.”
“I know, C. I know. Maybe knowing that I saw her pee herself is going to inspire her to keep her trap shut.”
The two girls stood next to one another, neither wanting to say the quiet part out loud. Lizzie had no witnesses to what had happened on Carlson Island. But Cynthia had a whole lobby full.
Still, there was no point in fretting, because whatever Cynthia was going to do, there was nothing Lizzie could do about it now.
***
The call came in at four fifty-three.
Chrisla had stepped away for her dinner break and Lizzie picked up the front desk phone.
She didn’t love working the front desk, but she only did it on occasion, to help out.
Still, as soon as Chrisla came back, she was heading home.
Sarah was out of town for a wedding, so Lizzie planned to spend the night eating key lime pie and watching reality tv.
Yes, it seemed they were going to pretend that Sarah hadn’t just given her mother a ridiculous amount of money to make sure she stayed quiet.
And was likely going to do it again.
The phone ripped her from her thoughts.
“Carlson Seaside Resort. Lizzie speaking. How can I help?”
“Is this Lizzie Wakefield?” A woman’s voice. Pleasant, warm, professional. “Hi Lizzie, this is Sandra Reyes with the Key West Gazette. I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time?”
“Not at all. What can I do for you?”
“Well, I’m writing a feature piece on the spring break programming at the Carlson. It’s been getting quite a bit of buzz, especially after that tropical storm party on the island.” A light laugh. “That went viral in all the right ways.”
Lizzie felt herself relax slightly. “It was pretty wild. We got lucky with how it all turned out.”
“You certainly did. The photos were everywhere. I actually wanted to talk to you specifically because from what I understand, you’ve been instrumental in organizing a lot of the events.”
“Sarah’s been leading everything. I’ve just been helping coordinate.”
“Right, but Sarah Barnes has been GM for years. And so far, the programming has been averaging at best. Now with you there, it’s all changed. That’s not a coincidence. You brought fresh energy.”
Lizzie felt a small flush of pride. “I mean, I’ve had some ideas. Sarah’s been really open to trying new things.”
“She’s lucky to have you. How much longer are you in Key West?”
“Two more weeks.”
“That’s wonderful. And you’re enjoying the internship?”
“I love it here. The island, the hotel, the work. It’s been amazing.”
“I’m so glad to hear that. Sarah Barnes must be a great mentor.” A pause, casual. “What’s she like to work with?”
“She’s incredible. Professional, smart, cares about every detail.”
“She certainly has quite the reputation. Built the hotel empire with her late husband Billy Barnes. Their story is really something, isn’t it? May-December romance.”
“They loved each other a lot.”
“Oh absolutely. Though there have been some questions about the marriage, haven’t there? With the lawsuit from Billy’s son.”
Lizzie’s guard went up slightly. “That’s a legal matter. I can’t really comment on it.”
“Of course, of course. I’m not asking about the lawsuit specifically. I’m just interested in Sarah’s story. Self-made woman worked her way up from nothing. That’s the narrative, right?”
“It’s true. She worked incredibly hard to get where she is.” Wasn’t this story supposed to be about her and the spring break program?
“Absolutely. Starting as a maid at the Fairmont, working her way up. Very impressive.” Sandra’s tone stayed light. “Though I have to say, we’ve been having trouble verifying some of the earlier biographical details. Her background before San Francisco is a bit unclear.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Well, for instance, we have her listed as being from Texas but apparently she is really from Wisconsin?”
Lizzie said nothing.
“We’ve actually been in contact with her parents.
Lizzie’s throat went dry. Shit.
“Her mother, Isolde Fairview, had some interesting things to say. About Sarah’s childhood. About an incident when Sarah was thirteen involving a car accident.”
“I think you should talk to Sarah about this.”
“We will, of course. But I wanted to give you a chance to comment first, since you work so closely with her.” Sandra’s voice turned sympathetic. “This must be difficult for you. Finding out that someone you admire has been less than truthful about her past.”
“Sarah’s past is her business.”
“Even when it involves a juvenile record? Even when it involves parents she’s claimed are dead when they’re very much alive and struggling financially?”
“She doesn’t owe them anything.” The words came out sharp. Defensive.
“Interesting. So you were aware that her parents are alive.”
Lizzie closed her eyes. Oh no….
“We also have reports that Sarah Barnes is a lesbian. That her marriage to Billy Barnes was not a romantic relationship but a business arrangement. Can you comment on that?”
“No.”
“We have photographs of her with several women over the past few years. Women who worked for her, women she met socially. There’s a pattern.”
What? Sarah hadn’t mentioned anyone else. Was this the reporter fishing? Or had Sarah kept something else from her? Doubts crept in and Lizzie hated that. “Those could be anyone. Friends, colleagues.”
“They could be. But given your defensive reaction, I’m guessing there’s more to it.” A pause. “You’ve been spending quite a bit of time with Sarah outside of work hours, haven’t you, Lizzie?”
Lizzie’s heart hammered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You didn’t spend time together on Carlson Island during the hurricane? Alone? In a closet?”
Her blood ran cold. Cynthia. This was Cynthia’s doing. She should have known… “That’s speculation. Lies. We’re friends.”
“Of course. And I’m sure that’s all it is.
But you can see how it might look, can’t you?
Especially given Sarah’s history. Especially given how quickly you jumped to defend her just now.
” Sandra’s voice went softer, almost kind.
“I’m trying to be fair here. That’s why I’m calling.
If there’s another side to this story, I want to hear it.
But if you can’t comment, I’ll have to go with what we have. ”
“Which is what?”
“That Sarah Barnes has been lying about her background for years. That she married Billy Barnes under false pretenses and that she’s now in a relationship with an intern half her age while fighting a lawsuit over her late husband’s estate.”
“I’m not half her age, and there are no other women,” she said and then instantly wanted to kick herself.
“So it is true then, Lizzie?”
Lizzie pressed her lips together.
“I’m not discussing Sarah’s personal life with you.”
“You just did.” Sandra let that sit for a moment. “Listen, I’m going to run this story. I have sources, I have documentation, I have photographs. What I don’t have is Sarah’s side. Or yours. If you want to go on record—”
“I have nothing to say.”
“That’s your choice. We’ll reach out to the resort before publication. Give Sarah a chance to comment. But Lizzie?” The professional warmth was back. “You might want to prepare yourself. This is going to come out. The only question is how bad it gets.”
The line went dead.
Lizzie sat with the phone in her hand. The lobby continued around her. A couple at the far end of the desk. Ceiling fans turning. A child dragging a pool float through the glass doors.
She picked up her personal phone and called Sarah. Four rings, voicemail. She called again. Same.
A text came back three minutes later:
I’m at the city commissioner’s wedding in Marathon. Can’t talk. Everything okay?
She looked at the message.
Yes. Call me when you get home please. Nothing was okay, but she couldn’t’ really drop all this on her in the middle of a wedding.
Sure thing. Love you.
Lizzie started at the screen and considered texting her what had happened. But she didn’t. Instead she typed back a simple Love you too and got back to work. This, she knew, was going to be the worst day of her life.