Lark Lake Lodge

Chapter Twelve

Sanctuary and Snacks

“Hi there! Welcome to The Firebrand. How can I help you?” the young blonde woman behind the desk asked with a toothy grin. Her eyes roamed my blotchy face, but she was trained well and didn’t wince at the sight of my bites.

“I want a room. I have a voucher,” I grumbled.

“Oh, I’m so sorry ma’am.” Oh, ‘Ma’am,’ is it? Like I don’t feel horrible enough. “We’re booked solid. When the weather gets nice like this—”

The full explanation she began to give seemed to make my bug bites itchier. My patience was completely tapped. I just wanted to hide in a room and forget I was ever born. “Is Michael here? Or Simon?”

I wasn’t normally the type to Karen up and immediately ask for a manager, but I was about five seconds from breaking down into blubbering sobs and I really didn’t want to do it in the well-appointed, bustling lobby of The Firebrand .

“Hmm,” the woman said, undaunted by my brusqueness. “Simon’s in the wine cellar, so we won’t be seeing him for some time.” She gave a little laugh. “Michael is in the kitchen, I think. It’s risotto tonight and he’s really particular that it be perfect. Lemme call back there. Just one second.” She picked up the phone on the desk and dialed a four-digit number. After a couple of rings, she asked after Michael. The staff in the kitchen put him on the line. “Hi Michael. There’s a guest at the front desk asking for you. Her name is…”

“Maisie,” I supplied.

“Her name is Maisie. What should I tell her? Okay. Yep, sounds great. Thank you.” She hung up the phone and smiled at me. “He’ll be here in just a minute. You can wait over there if you’d like to be more comfortable.”

She pointed at the most charmingly decorated nook I’d ever seen. The entirety of the Firebrand was done in Art Nouveau style, just as I’d seen on the business cards and letterhead. This particular corner across from check in had a brocade settee behind an ornately carved coffee table, topped with a tray holding three beautiful orchids, each in their own gilded ceramic pot. Next to the tray was a card on a tiny brass easel with the Wi-Fi password written in gold script.

Saints be praised! Internet!

I pulled out my phone. It almost felt foreign to hold after so much time away from any kind of signal. As soon as I turned it on, the notifications came rolling in. I had a couple of calls from my mom and brother. Brian texted on top of his calls. He wanted to be sure that I was coming home for Chloe’s birthday the following Sunday. I texted back that I’d be there. No matter how much my life had gone off the rails, I’d yet to miss one of my niece’s birthdays, and I wasn’t about to start.

There was a text from Rob about him running into my old friend Elena. She’d moved back to Rochester Hills and when he saw her, she’d asked about me. It was very strange for him to pass on something like this. Clearly, he was using the run-in as an excuse to get in touch with me.

Too late. I’m already onto the next disaster.

The screen shifted to black and the phone started to buzz. It startled me so badly I nearly leapt ten feet in the air. My phone didn’t recognize the number, but I certainly did. I’d written it on just about every form and contract I’d filled out in the last couple of weeks. Harlan was calling me. I had no idea how he’d gotten my number, but he was calling. My heart hammered in my chest and I sat there and stared at the screen until the call went to voicemail.

Shell-shocked, I sat on the settee, unable to move. My feelings for this man had swung wildly and to such extremes, my soul had whiplash.

Thank God Michael appeared before me. I’d only met him the day before, but he’d seemed very kind and I really needed some kindness.

“Maisie. What a pleasant surprise,” he said. I stood and he gave me a hug. When he stepped back his eyes roamed my face. His brow wrinkled with concern over my bug bites, but he was too polite to mention them. “Oh honey, you look worn out. I’m guessing you’re here to take that break I promised you?”

“Yes. If that’s all right.”

“It’s not just all right. I insist.”

“But the woman said you’re fully booked.”

“Oh, we’re never really fully booked. I’ve got something really special for you. You got a bag?”

I didn’t have one. Didn’t even have my purse. Just a phone, a jacket, and some keys. Shaking my head, I swallowed through the lump forming in my throat as I remembered my sad escape.

“No worries, I’ll grab a VIP bag. We have heavenly pajamas in those. Stay right here. I’ll be right back.” Before I could answer he was gone .

Slumping back down on the settee, I watched the bustling dining room through the French doors next to the front desk, riddled with envy to see so many happy guests. I desperately wanted to play host to guests at my establishment and see the same happy faces appreciating all the little details I put into their experience. A fresh wave of grief hit me. Without Harlan there was no lodge, and I couldn’t run an inn with a liar. Before I knew I’d lost control, a tear ran down my cheek. I brushed it away, but another fell. No sobbing fit followed—just me watching the diners while tears streamed down my face.

A figure appeared between me and the French doors. Simon stopped on a dime, holding a bottle of wine in each hand. His jaw dropped.

“Maisie?” he asked as I quickly wiped my face and pasted on a wan smile. “Jesus. What happened to your face?” He didn’t have the same filter as Michael. Words failed me. The tears started to roll down my cheeks in earnest. “Oh no. What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

He sat down next to me and placed the wine on the table. With uncharacteristic sweetness, his voice registered genuine concern and it became one of those moments where a kindly inquiry became the spark that made me fall apart. I dropped my head on his shoulder and lost it. He wrapped his arms around me and said all kinds of nice and supportive things as he rubbed my back. Never in a million years did I think Simon would be a shoulder for me to cry on, and especially not such a receptive one. But he was here, I needed him, and he stepped up.

Michael reappeared and stopped abruptly when he saw Simon cradling me as I cried. “Oh you poor thing,” he said. “Let’s get you to your room.”

“Carriage house?” Simon said over my head to Michael, who must have nodded. I didn’t see as I was still face down on Simon’s shoulder .

“Come on, honey,” Simon said, taking my arm and pulling me off the settee.

***

A half hour later I was sitting cross-legged on the softest bed I’d ever touched. I was freshly showered and wearing cozy Firebrand pajamas. Simon handed me a wine glass and laid a tray with olives, cheese, nuts, and bread on the bed in front of me. The tray was so beautifully arranged it almost looked too good to eat. But I was famished, so I took a bite of some very expensive cheese and grabbed a piece of bread.

“You must feel better. You certainly look better,” Simon said, sitting at the end of the bed, sipping his wine. “You were a piping hot mess in the lobby.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. He wasn’t wrong. And his bluntness was growing on me. “Yes, thank you. I feel much better.”

“Good. Now spill,” Simon insisted.

Michael groaned from his seat in one of the overstuffed chairs that flanked a side table along the wall. “Honey, maybe she doesn’t want to talk about it. Did you ever think that?”

“No, I didn’t. She needs to talk about it and I definitely need to know what it is. I have a sinking suspicion it has something to do with a certain smoking hot hermit.”

Simon smiled, and although I appreciated how he tried to keep things light, I couldn’t smile back. “Your suspicion is correct,” I said.

“Maisie, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Michael said.

“No, Simon’s right. If you guys are willing to listen, it would be good to get it off my chest.”

“Yay! Fire away,” Simon said before popping an olive in his mouth .

“So, Harlan and I…well, we became more than friends today. He…kissed me. A lot.”

Simon let out a squeal and grabbed one of the throw pillows on the bed, hugging it to his chest. “You kissed Harlan? You are a goddess ! Nobody kisses Harlan. What was it like? Was it amazing? Oh, I could die!“ He flopped on his back dramatically.

“Babe, I’m right here. Dial it down,” Michael said.

Simon popped up on his elbows. “Oh Michael. Don’t be a poop. You know you have nothing to worry about. If you Google the word heterosexual there’s a picture of Harlan.”

“Still, it’s a little disrespectful,” Michael said.

“Guys? Do you want to hear this or not?” I huffed.

“Oh sorry! Please go on,” Simon said.

“So, in the midst of this new thing with Harlan starting up, I checked my budget and realized, I’m tapped out. I have to stop renovations.” My shoulders slumped and I chugged my wine.

Simon and Michael looked at each other and burst out laughing. Not quite the response I’d hoped for.

“Been there!” Simon said.

“More than once,” Michael said.

“Really?” I wondered aloud.

“Of course. I don’t think you really get the full experience of rehabbing a property if you don’t go broke at least once,” Michael said.

“Wow. Well, I guess I’m a pro now.” It was really reassuring that they’d had the same troubles. “So, when I told Harlan about it, he offered to invest; to be my partner.”

“How sweet! I can just imagine the two of you fixing up the lodge together. It’s like HGTV meets Hallmark Channel,” Simon said.

“That’s what I thought. But when he ran to the store, I started to go through some old documents about the lodge that I got from the library and what I found almost made me faint. The place…used to be called Stahl’s Lodge .“ I dropped the last two words like they were anvils, laying down major gravitas on what I thought would be a big reveal.

They both looked at me, blinking, like they were waiting for more.

“Uh-huh,” Simon said.

“It’s his family’s place!” I cried.

“Yeah. Everyone knows that,” Michael said.

“Well, I didn’t!”

Simon’s jaw dropped. “Oh. My. God. He never told you?“ Finally, I got the response I wanted.

“No! We’ve been basically inseparable for the last three weeks, and most of that time has been spent on tasks related to the rehab. You’d think just once he’d mention, ‘Oh yeah, my family built this place.’ But no! Nothing!”

I slurped down the last of my wine and Simon refilled the glass. “That’s so shady. Why would he hide something like that?”

“Now, Simon always gets frustrated when I do this, but I need to play devil’s advocate here,” Michael said.

“Of course you do.” Simon rolled his eyes.

“Maybe Harlan thought you knew already.”

“Impossible,” I said. “We have these long talks every night. If I knew about his connection to the place, we would have talked about it.”

“Well, what did he say when you confronted him about it?” Michael asked.

“I didn’t. He left to run an errand and after I looked through the documents, I bolted and came here.” My cheeks flushed. It didn’t seem like such a shitty move until I said it out loud.

“You did the right thing, sweetie,” Simon said as he rubbed my knee encouragingly.

How the hell had Simon ended up being my champion while Michael took up Harlan’s side? From the one time I’d met each of them, I’d have thought Michael would surely be the nurturer, and I was convinced that Simon didn’t like me very much .

“Does he know where you are? He’s got to be losing his mind right now.” Michael said.

“I don’t care. He lied to me and he hurt me. I…I just can’t face him.”

“Atta girl,” Simon cheered.

“Nevertheless, you should at least let him know you’re safe,” Michael said. “He could be searching the woods by now.”

A giant wave of guilt hit me. Harlan worried about me sleeping in my truck or being at the lodge alone at night. I couldn’t imagine how he’d freak if I simply disappeared without a word. Even though I was angry and hurt, I knew he didn’t deserve to fret for no reason. I pulled out my phone and turned it on. I had three more missed calls from him.

“He called. Four times. I just can’t bring myself to pick up,” I said weakly.

“Of course you can’t,” Simon agreed.

“Give it to me,” Michael said. I handed him the phone and he tapped on the missed call message to dial Harlan’s number. “Hi Harlan? It’s Michael. What? Yes…she’s here. Oh, you saw the papers and photos? Uh-huh. I’m sure you do, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. Let’s just let it rest until morning, huh? Cooler heads will prevail. I understand, but Harlan…yeah, I know. I just think it’s best if you sleep on it. Yep. Okay, I will. Bye.” He ended the call and handed the phone to me. I tossed it on the bed. “He’s a wreck and desperate to talk to you. But…well you heard me put him off.”

“Thanks, Michael,” I said, glad that someone had put Harlan’s mind at ease, even if I still wanted to sock him.

“I should run. The chocolate buffet starts in ten minutes and one of us should be there,” Michael said, dropping a quick peck on Simon’s lips and making his way to the bedroom door.

“You’re so lucky,” I told Simon once Michael was gone. “ He’s a good guy.”

“He is. I honestly don’t deserve him,” Simon said. “Now enough about my man—let’s figure out what you’re going to do about yours. I can’t live vicariously through you if you don’t make up with him.”

I let out a deep sigh. “I just don’t see a way forward. I have serious issues with dishonesty.”

Simon rose and headed to the bedroom door. He paused in the doorway. “I’ll be right back. I think this is going to require a second bottle of wine.”