Okay, not Glitter, but still... a resort sounded nice. Wealthy clientele, spacious suites, a spa, perhaps a restaurant that required French fluency. Lauren beamed. “That sounds right up my alley.”
“It would be a good experience for you. Running Pinehaven Resort would be very different from the position here at Glitter, but I consider that to be a good thing. You’re already intimately acquainted with the service end of things. This would give you the chance to oversee something. And if all goes as well as I expect it to, the event planner position would be yours come January.”
Lauren was warming to the whole idea. She’d graduated a month ago, and she was eager to exit the catering industry and start the life she’d been working toward since she was sixteen. “Count me in. How should I apply for the position?”
Olivia had already spoken with Tammy Landry, and the job was Lauren’s if she wanted it, on Olivia’s strong recommendation. A Zoom meeting would be scheduled, but it sounded like a formality. The job would require a move as the property was in New Hampshire. The pay was on the low side, but they would be providing her accommodations. Her lease was about up and she could simply store her furnishings for the rest of the year.
Full of optimism, though lacking in details, Lauren took Tammy Landry’s contact information. She rushed home to her studio apartment in Lynn and went straight to her laptop. As the resort’s home page opened, her jaw dropped—and not in a good way. The header showed a group of eight tiny cabins along a lake shoreline. The main lodge boasted a stone fireplace. The activities offered were boating, swimming, fishing, basketball, and canoeing.
Heart dropping to the floor, she clicked on Cedar Cabin—each was named for a type of tree. The interior was very... rustic. Small bedrooms, wood floors, wood furniture, a kitchenette, and a bathroom that looked as if a person could shower, use the toilet, and brush one’s teeth simultaneously.
So no lavender-scented spa, snooty concierge, or five-star restaurant (or even a vending machine, apparently). Just a group of country cabins on a lake in Podunk, New Hampshire.
She slumped in her chair, measuring her breaths, and allowed herself a moment to process. Okay. So the place wasn’t quite what she’d expected. Her secondhand Jimmy Choos and Givenchy bag were definitely headed for storage.
For a while.
But it was only nine months. She’d shared a childhood bedroom with three spoiled kids, lived under the roof of an autocratic foster father, and survived the jealousy of a foster mother for longer than that. She could survive nine months at Pinehaven Resort.
The memory evaporated when she passed a sign that read “Pinehaven—Prettiest lake town in New Hampshire.” As she crested a hill she caught sight of Loon Lake, the afternoon sun gleaming off its frozen surface. She tried to imagine how the lake would look in the summer, teeming with pontoons, fishing boats, and kayaks, but failed.
She slowed to navigate the potholes as she entered town and scanned for a place to stop and freshen up before she reported to the resort. Mostof the shops lining Main Street seemed locked up tight. Ah, there ahead, an Open flag waved from beneath a red canopy. The sign on the window read Birdie’s Deli. Perfect.
She was too nervous to eat, but a Diet Coke and a change of clothes would hit the spot. She may have Olivia’s recommendation, and the Zoom with Tom and Tammy had gone well, but she knew the value of a good first impression.
She parallel parked, then removed the clothes she’d hung in the back seat of her Camry and carried them into the deli. The delicious aroma of baked bread made her stomach rumble. Maybe just a slice of that bread to tide her over.
Since there was a line she headed for the restroom and changed. The navy cashmere sweater she’d purchased from her favorite Goodwill in North End seemed brand-new and flattered her blonde hair. Though jeans might be the uniform of choice for her job, she’d chosen a pair of quality khakis (Bargain Basement) for today, as well as her prized Prada suede ankle boots (Renew) in camel with a matching belt.
Her makeup was fine, but she fluffed her hair. Stepping back, she surveyed the overall effect. She appeared competent and put together if a little nervous.Relax. You’ve got this.Now that her initial disappointment had faded, she was eager to step in and run this resort through the high season and beyond.
Tom and Tammy hoped she could help bolster their flagging business, which had suffered since a new upscale resort opened across the lake last year. It was time to put her education and ingenuity to work. And the woman in the mirror seemed like she could handle the task.
She ordered her fountain soda and a slice of freshly baked bread, and a few minutes later she headed out to her car. The day was warming up, and with the sun shining it felt like at least fifty degrees. She had just enough time to review her notes from the Zoom call as she enjoyed her bread. She looked both ways, then crossed the street, navigating apothole the size of Australia. At her car door she juggled the drink, sack, and hangers of clothing as she rooted through her pocketbook for her key fob. There it was.
A wave of cold water hit her. She gasped.
A guy called out of his blue pickup truck, “Sorry!” She caught a glimpse of his twinkling eyes in his rearview mirror.
Then she glanced down. Her pants and boots were drenched with muddy water.
Fifteen minutes later, Lauren followed the GPS to the resort, anxiety building because now she was running late. She’d had to change into wrinkled clothes from her suitcase since even the outfit she’d driven up in had been soiled by the jerk in the pickup truck. Her Pradas were probably ruined.
Following the verbal directions, she turned onto an unpaved road. This hadn’t been the recommended route, but since she was running late she’d chosen the quickest one. Judging by the mud, Pinehaven must’ve recently survived a monsoon. So much for her clean car.
A few minutes later she questioned her decision. The road was getting worse by the minute. She topped a low hill, then started the descent, homing in on the standing water at the bottom. God only knew how deep it was. She should probably turn around, though it would make her even later. She slowed, pulled to the side of the road, and put the car in Park.
Once she rerouted the GPS, she shifted into Drive and pressed the gas pedal. The tires spun.
“No, no, no!”
She tried again, going easy, but still got no traction. She’d driven in enough snow to know to quit while she was ahead. Maybe she could put a floor mat under the wheel. She stepped from the car to assess thesituation, and her low heels sank into the mud. Her front left tire was already several inches deep in the oozing sludge.
A car mat wouldn’t fix this problem.
Twenty minutes later she’d managed to walk back to the main road. Not a single car had passed, and her shoes were covered in mud. She’d been unable to reach Tammy because there was no cell service.
It would be at least a thirty-minute walk back into town where she could reach Tammy and ask for a ride—or she could take her chances with a stranger. As if her thoughts had summoned it, a gray SUV slowed as it passed and pulled off to the side of the road up ahead. Flashers came on. The Jeep Grand Cherokee sported a New Hampshire plate and a Red Sox bumper sticker.
