Back to the Lake Breeze Hotel

by Amie Denman

  “Slow down so I can get a candid picture of you showing us around. It would be great if you’d look scared,” Jason said.

  Nate controlled his expression and managed a smile. No way.

  “It’s not about me. It’s about our guests,” he said. He turned and resolved to keep his face out of the photographer’s lens. He’d rather be the one controlling the news.

  As they passed over a small bridge in the Wonderful West and approached the old-fashioned western-themed carousel, Nate saw a flash of pink among the carousel horses. He herded his group that way, not sure if it was the best or worst plan. Maybe Alice would take Mr. Camera-Happy off his hands. No matter his feelings about her, she was clearly a far more attractive subject than he was.

  She stood between two carousel horses, chatting easily with a couple of men who must be from the haunted house production company. Not exactly corporate types, the men wore faded jeans and company T-shirts. One had a demented clown tattoo on his arm and the other had a week’s worth of beard.

  Starlight Point was hiring them for their talent, not their personal image.

  Alice looked up and saw Nate, and her smile faltered for a moment. Then it flashed back. Nate considered making an excuse and racing in the other direction, but he had to be around her sometime. Might as well take this opportunity to practice appearing to have a cordial relationship.

  Appearances, as any PR specialist knew, were a powerful moderator of behavior. And he needed all the help he could get.

  * * *

  “NATE,” ALICE SAID, stepping down from the platform of the carousel. “I’m glad your group ran into mine this morning.”

  She juggled her bag and a pile of papers and extended a hand to the reporter and photographer from the Bayside Times. “Alice Birmingham, special events coordinator for Starlight Point,” she said. “I believe we’ve met before, but it’s always nice to welcome the local press.” Why hadn’t Nate told her he was bringing in reporters? She would have prepared statements for them with details about the special fall events she’d spent the early half of the year planning.

  She smiled toward Nate with raised eyebrows as if to say, You can try shutting me out, but we work for the same team.

  “We’re getting a tour of the decorations and games for the fall festival,” Bob said.

  “Well then, you haven’t seen the half of it. These gentlemen are with the haunted house production company.” She introduced everyone and waited for the handshaking to finish. “We decided to hire professionals to set up our haunted houses because this is the first time Starlight Point has attempted something like this. We want to get it right and scare the stuffing out of our guests.”

  “That’s where we come in,” the bearded man said. “People who walk in to our haunted houses tend to run out. Strangely, they get right back in line to do it again.” He shrugged. “Fearless people are our bread and butter.”

  “So what kind of magic are you working here?” Bob asked.

  The man from the haunted house company glanced at Alice. “How much do you want me to say?”

  She smiled. “The truth, but not the whole truth. Just enough for an article that will make people wish these haunted houses were opening now instead of in a month.”

  While the fright designer talked with the reporters and gave them an overview of the haunted carousel and the transformation of the arcade building, Alice moved closer to Nate and whispered, “How is your tour going?”

  “Fine,” he said, not even looking at her.

  So much for being on the same team.

  “My meeting is also going well. Thanks for asking,” she said quietly. She waited for his reaction, but he didn’t give her a thing. This was going to be hard.

  “These guys have terrifying minds,” she continued, undaunted by Nate’s stone face. “Exactly what we need for this project.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.”

  “Don’t you like haunted houses?” She remembered going through one with him while they were still in high school. They’d held each other close and laughed all the way through it. Had he liked it at the time or had he pretended to for her sake?

  Nate shook his head just enough for Alice to notice. “I think real life is frightening enough most of the time.”

  His tone implied that she was one of those frightening things. Her cheeks heated and the sensation radiated down her neck. With her auburn hair and pink dress, she was afraid she’d look like a boiled blushing lobster in a moment. She didn’t need his approval or even his friendship. After what happened five years ago, any kind of a relationship with Nate would require a miracle.

  But she didn’t need to be treated as if she was public enemy number one.

  “Would you say the haunted house is intended for all ages, like a family attraction?” the reporter asked.

  “Everything at Starlight Point is family oriented,” Nate said.

  “But there’s no way I’d take my little niece into one of these haunted houses,” Alice said.

  “So...it’s not for all ages,” Bob said.

  Nate cut Alice a look he might have given someone who ruined a surprise party by spilling the beans ahead of time.

  “Look at this,” the haunted house man said to the reporter. He swiped through several screens on his phone, turned it sideways and showed it to the men from the Bayside Times.

  “Whoa,” Jason said. “That man looks like he just saw his own funeral.”

  The haunted house man laughed. “Seriously, look at their faces. We know how to scare them.” He turned to Alice and Nate. “Want to see these pictures of a haunted house we did in Tennessee last year?”

  Alice was about to agree, her curiosity excited by the reaction of the reporters. But Nate said, “No,” in a cold, determined voice.

  Everyone in the group looked at him, and he put on a winning smile. “I can’t wait to see the final product for myself. Don’t want to ruin it by looking at pictures of similar ones.”

  The reporter and photographer shrugged and went back to looking at the pictures on the phone.

  Alice shifted the stack of papers and folders she held so she could find a press kit from the haunted house company. It was the perfect thing to hand to the local media.

  Suddenly, a breeze caught the edge of her papers and sent the top ones flying. When she tried to grab for them, the rest of the pile started to slide, and Alice’s shoulder bag skated down her arm. In a moment, everything would be on the ground or flying through the air.

  Surprised by the sudden breeze and soaring papers, Alice was even more shocked when Nate deftly caught two papers midair and used his other hand to right her stack before it spiraled to the ground and spread out in a paperwork tsunami. Nate took the strap of her bag and put it back on her shoulder. As he helped her balance her pile of papers, his hand touched hers and he jerked it back as if he’d been burned. He flushed red and stepped back.

  The other men stopped their conversation to stare.

  “Paper cut,” Nate said. He locked eyes with Alice for a moment and the expression she saw in his eyes looked like panic.

  Come on. Am I really that much of an ogre?

  “Those are wicked,” the reporter said. “Paper cuts.”

  Nate swallowed and nodded. “The worst.”

  Alice took her bag off her shoulder and shoved all the papers in it. She didn’t even care about wrinkling them. She’d ask Haley to print new ones if she had to.

  “I think we’re ready to move on to the haunted house in the shooting gallery,” she said pleasantly to her two consultants. She smiled at the reporter and photographer. “I don’t want to hold you up any longer. I’m sure you have a lot more ground to cover and a story to put out today.”

  “We have plenty of material already, but I wouldn’t mind seeing what’s going on inside the shooting gallery,”
Bob said. “People in town are pretty curious about what you’re cooking up here at the Point. I think you’re going to have a big success on your hands.”

  “I sure hope so. I was one of the people who talked the Hamiltons into staying open all fall, so I’ll feel responsible if it doesn’t go well. As the special events coordinator, nothing is better than a happy ending.”

  She heard Nate cough but didn’t glance his way. Instead, Alice squared her shoulders and focused on the reporter. “I can’t wait to tell you about the events we have planned for Christmas. I can’t say much now, but you might have noticed there’s a very large parking lot out front that would be perfect for something such as—” she put one finger on her chin and looked to the sky “—perhaps an ice skating rink or a Christmas tree lot.”

  The reporter laughed. “Next you’ll be telling me you’re bringing in live reindeer and authentic elves.”

  “I can’t reveal company secrets,” she said. “But if you know anyone who wants to get married, you can tell them there may be one weekend in December that isn’t booked yet for a Christmas wedding.”

  Jason turned to the reporter and elbowed him. “Hear that, Bob? Maybe you and Shelly should make it official?”

  “Shelly’s mother hasn’t learned to like me yet,” Bob said. “Maybe next year. In the meantime, how about letting us inside the haunted house?”

  Alice shook her head. “Sorry, we want to keep some surprises for our guests.”

  “We’ll walk with you as far as the arcade,” Nate said. He flashed a smile at the reporters. “But we’ll have to behave ourselves and not crash the party. There’s plenty of time for going through the haunted house when it opens.”

  The group of six started walking in a disorganized blob. She wanted to walk between the two men from the haunted house company so she could talk freely with them as she had been for the past hour or so. But she didn’t dare tell the Bayside Times to put their cameras and notebooks away and head home, no matter how much she wanted to.

  At the steps of the Western Arcade, she conceded to smiling for a picture with the haunted house producers. Now would they go?

  “You might just see yourself in tomorrow’s paper,” the photographer said congenially. “But it sure would be a better picture if you were inside and we got a glimpse of something scary.”

  Alice laughed, but then she noticed Nate’s expression as he stood behind the reporters. His usual pleasant, polite PR man veneer had been wiped off as if someone used an eraser on a chalkboard. He swallowed hard and glared at her.

  Was he possessive about the news that came out of Starlight Point, or did a picture giving her credit for the fall events burn his biscuits that badly?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE NEXT DAY’S newspaper was on Alice’s doorstep by seven in the morning. The doorstep actually belonged to her parents, whose house she still lived in. Alice had been a year-round employee at Starlight Point for two years after working her way up to the coveted position by many summers of seasonal employment. Waiting tables in the off-season hadn’t been profitable, but she’d gotten by and taken pride in paying back her own student loans.

  She might even have afforded her own place, but she’d been meticulously putting aside a portion of her paycheck every month to repay her parents for the wedding she’d called off the night before it happened. They had already paid for the flowers, the church, the reception facility, the band, the dress and the cake. How had she let them and herself get so carried away and run up such a giant bill? Maybe she wouldn’t be regretting the thousands of dollars spent if she’d gone through with the wedding.

  In a few more months, she could surprise her parents by repaying the entire cost of disappointing them in one fell swoop. Then, at twenty-seven, she could finally get her own place, wonderfully free of the past.

  She grabbed the paper from the same patch of front porch it had been thrown on by a succession of paper carriers all her life. She had about five minutes to glance through it before her father would ask for the paper with his coffee. And she knew better than to wrinkle it or mix up the sections. Her older sister had never cared to read the paper, but her younger sister had a habit of turning the sections inside out as she read them, a quirk that had spurred at least one family squabble.

  She scanned the front page and was not surprised to see a big article about the fall festival weekends, which opened in a few hours. There were three pictures. One photograph of the front gate with its clever decorations, most of which had been her idea. One picture of the giant inflatable pumpkin where the midway fountain usually spewed water all summer. The massive balloon children could run through was also her idea. The third image was of a building on the Western Trail adorned with spiderwebs and bats. No pictures of Alice or anyone else.

  “Is the paper here?” her father called from the kitchen.

  I’ve got to get my own subscription, she thought. She resolved to read the article online as soon as she got to her office.

  An hour later, Alice was glued to her laptop screen, skimming the article and hoping—vain though it was—to see a glimpse of her name, just so she could revel in the feeling of doing something right.

  “Come on,” she said. She scrolled past an obnoxious flashing ad and kept reading to the end of the piece. Her shoulders fell. There was no mention of her in the article. Despite her hard work, imagination and planning. Despite the fact she had personally helped inflate that stupid pumpkin balloon.

  “You don’t look happy,” Haley said. She put a cup of coffee on Alice’s desk. “It’s from Augusta’s bakery. I got you the good stuff because it’s opening day for the fall festivals.”

  “Thank you,” Alice said. She still continued to skim the article, hoping she’d just missed it.

  “Is something not going well?”

  Alice shook her head. “Everything’s going fine with the opening, I think. It’s something else.”

  Haley stepped around Alice’s desk and looked at her computer screen. “I saw that article in the paper while I waited for the coffee to brew at Augusta’s. I tried reading it to distract myself from getting a doughnut. My strategy failed, but the article seems like great publicity.”

  “For Starlight Point, yes.”

  Haley raised an eye brow and waited.

  Alice sighed. “Sorry. Yes, it’s good PR for the Point. I just hoped... It’s silly—”

  “They didn’t even mention your name after all the work you did.”

  “You noticed that, too.”

  “I did. I guess it’s good that the attitude around here is all for one and one for all, isn’t it?” Haley sat on the edge of Alice’s desk. “Why do you think your name wasn’t mentioned? It’s obvious the Hamiltons really like and value your work.”

  “They didn’t interview me or the Hamiltons. Only one person contributed to that article.”

  “Nate,” Haley said. She cocked her head as if trying to figure something out.

  Alice nodded. “I’m taking this way too personally,” she said.

  “Does Nate have something against you?”

  Alice hesitated. “The short answer to that question is yes. The long answer is something I’d rather not talk about.”

  Haley raised both eyebrows. “Must be a good story there.”

  “More like a cautionary tale,” Alice replied.

  * * *

  EIGHT HOURS LATER, Nate checked his watch, hoping the weekend event would start on time. During the fall festival weekends, the park would be open Friday evenings and all day Saturday and Sunday. As the sun slanted across the sprawling parking lot at five o’clock on Friday, a sizable crowd gathered outside the front gate. Most of them wore jeans and sweatshirts as the September evenings already had the chill of fall.

  Nate stood beside Virginia and Henry—keeping them between him and Alice. In the few weeks he’d
worked at Starlight Point, Nate had discovered Henry was a good friend. Most of Nate’s friends had moved away from the area, and even though he’d come home to be an anchor for his dad, Nate felt he was drifting.

  Jack, June and Evie Hamilton shared a microphone at the front gate and each of them said a few words about the extended season. Jack pointed to Alice who was standing only a few feet away and publicly thanked her for being the mastermind behind the fall weekends. She blushed and gave a little wave to the crowd. Her pink jacket made her stand out in the small crowd of year-round employees who were being recognized—mostly department heads and art and design staff.

  A group of performers plucked from the singers and musicians in live shows—those who hadn’t yet gone back to college—performed the national anthem, and then the turnstiles opened.

  “We did it,” June said as she came over to Alice and Virginia. Guests poured through the front gates behind her. “I know your hard work is going to pay off.”

  Nate watched June hug Alice and then her mother. He felt a twinge of guilt that he’d asked the reporter to leave Alice’s name out of the article and not include the picture of her with the haunted house designers. He’d made up a story about Starlight Point wanting to recognize the team effort, not an individual’s. But that wasn’t his real reason.

  The last thing his father needed as he battled cancer was to imagine his son was revisiting a dark period in his past. Even if that past was long over.

  “Quite an event,” Henry said. “Exciting.”

  “The first of many if it all goes well.”

  Henry leaned on a post and regarded Nate. “Think you’ll be around for all those?”

  “I’ll be around as long as I need to be.” The first of many cancer treatments had begun only days before, and Nate already saw the long road stretching out before him. Although his sister wanted to help, she had a young family and a job an hour away from Bayside. Nate was the obvious and willing choice for helping his dad get through the second worst experience of his life.