Can't Fight The Moonlight (Whisper Lake Book 3)

by Barbara Freethy

  "You, too, Lizzie."

  She forced herself to move. She walked around the desk and then through the door to her office. When she was finally alone, she let out a breath, feeling more unsettled than she had in a long time. But she'd done it. She'd walked away. She'd said no. That was the end of it.

  Maybe…unless she changed her mind. Five nights of fun was rather tempting.

  A knock came at her half-open door, and she jumped. It wasn’t Justin; it was Shay.

  "How was your night?" Shay asked, as she stepped into the room.

  "Good. Everything quiet around here?"

  "Yes, no problems. I've confirmed all the details for tomorrow. Naomi will be in the kitchen at six a.m. as per her usual shift. She'll take a three-hour break between eleven and two and then she'll work from two to six to provide food for the cocktail party. Karen will be working the same morning shift but will come in from four to eight to cover serving and cleanup. Victor will cover the desk from noon to four thirty and then will take over as a bartender during the event. He'll also stay until eight to help with cleanup." Shay looked down at the electronic tablet in her hand. "Sharilyn and Margarita will be on cleaning tomorrow. They'll be working from ten until three on guest rooms and the common areas." She glanced back at Lizzie. "I think that's it."

  "Thank you for being so organized. I feel like I've just been putting out fires lately."

  "Well, I am sorry about earlier with Patty and Noah and the police. That shouldn't have happened."

  "I spoke to Victor. He knows he's on thin ice. He said his girlfriend is pregnant."

  "Is that why he's been so rattled? That makes sense."

  "I couldn't fire him."

  Shay gave her a knowing look. "I figured, but he needs to do better."

  "I hope he will."

  "Anyway, I'll be leaving early in the morning, but if you have any questions, you can call me, not that you can't run this place better than anyone else here." Shay gave her a guilty look. "I feel bad leaving you with the party and an inn full of guests."

  It wasn't the best timing, but Shay worked hard, too. "Don't worry about it. Enjoy the time with Kyle and his parents. That's important, too."

  "I hope they don't hate me."

  "They won't hate you. They'll love you. You're always a big hit with the guests. I don't think they'll be any different."

  "It's just that Kyle is their only child. And I think they're going to be pretty picky when it comes to who's marrying him."

  "It doesn't matter what they think, only what you and Kyle think."

  "I really love him, Lizzie," Shay confessed. "I never thought I'd feel this way. I couldn't imagine it happening. I had so many bad dates for so long. I figured I'd just eventually have to settle for someone who was all right. But Kyle is so much more than that. Sometimes, I feel like I should pinch myself in case I'm dreaming."

  "It's all real," she said, feeling a little jealous. This past year for her had definitely been the bad date stage, not that there had been that many dates.

  "So, was everyone at Adam's party?" Shay asked.

  "Everyone but Hannah. She was working."

  "Is your brother dating anyone?"

  "Not that he's told me, but he keeps that kind of information to himself."

  "He's so good-looking. I can't tell you how many of my friends have their eyes on him. But he doesn't seem to hit the single spots up much."

  She shrugged. "Like I said, I have no idea…"

  "You know who else is good-looking? Justin Blackwood."

  "He is attractive," she agreed, trying not to let on just how handsome she found their guest.

  "He was looking for somewhere to eat earlier."

  "He made his way to Micky's."

  "Oh, you saw him then?"

  "Yes. I actually asked him to join us. I hated seeing him eating alone."

  "That's interesting. What's he like when he's not in work mode?"

  "He's more charming than I first thought," she admitted. "When we first met, he was so upset about his phone and his computer, he couldn't think about anything else. But, apparently, he's gotten over not being tethered to his electronics, at least until tomorrow when he can replace them."

  "Is he single?"

  "I think so." She realized she didn't really know Justin's status, although hopefully he wouldn't have kissed her the way he had if he was dating someone.

  "Maybe you should get better acquainted," Shay said with a wicked glint in her eyes.

  "He's leaving on Sunday. I don't think we need to get any closer."

  "That's almost a week from now. A lot can happen."

  "I don't want anything to happen. I'm busy."

  "You need to make time for a relationship, Lizzie."

  "Maybe, but I don't need to make time for a man who's leaving in a few days. And now, I really need to focus on some paperwork. I have bills waiting to be paid."

  "All right. I'll leave you to it."

  As Shay left, Lizzie drew in a breath. As she did so, she thought she smelled traces of Justin's cologne. Or maybe that was just her imagination. Perhaps Shay was right, and she did need to get out more and not just with her girlfriends and family members. She was a little lonely. That's why she'd gotten so swept up in Justin.

  But if she was going to date someone, it would be a man who lived in Whisper Lake, not someone who was just passing through her life. She'd gotten involved once before with a man who had been going in a completely different direction, and it had almost ruined her dream. She wouldn't make that mistake again.

  Justin woke up sweating. The sun was streaming through his window, but it was only eight, and it shouldn't be so hot. Did he have a fever?

  He rolled out of bed and stood up, feeling a blast of heat coming from the vent. He walked over to the thermostat. It was set for heat to come on at sixty-five degrees, but the room temp was up to ninety-seven. What the hell?

  He pulled on his jeans and a T-shirt, slipped his feet into sneakers and grabbed his key. When he got downstairs, he saw a group of guests surrounding the front desk with Lizzie in the middle. She looked frazzled but shockingly pretty in a pair of white cut-off shorts that showed off her legs and a pink tank top that clung to her curves. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, and her cheeks were bright red. She had beads of sweat on her brow, which he suspected were coming not just from the heat but the pressure of the group.

  Lizzie put up a hand, calling for quiet. "If you all stop talking at once, I can answer your questions. I just got off the phone with the furnace guy. He'll be out very soon. Something is clearly wrong with the heat, but we will get it fixed as soon as possible. In the meantime, we're going to serve breakfast in the dining room. The windows and the French doors are open, so it's a lot cooler in there."

  "What are you going to do if they can't fix it?" a man asked, his tone annoyed and frustrated. "We can't stay here if it's going to be like this. Can you set us up somewhere else?"

  "I'm sorry, but all the hotels are full this week for the eclipse," Lizzie explained. "But I don't want you to worry. We will get this fixed, and I will comp all your rooms for a night."

  "Well, all right," the man said, his tension a bit eased by her words, but he was still not happy. "However, if it's not fixed by this afternoon, we might have to leave."

  "Let's not worry about that now," she said. "Please get yourselves coffee and tea and order breakfast," Lizzie urged. "And don't forget, we'll be having our weekly happy hour cocktail party this afternoon, starting at four o'clock."

  As the group moved into the dining room, he stepped forward, and Lizzie gave him a tense smile.

  "Did you hear?" she asked.

  "Yes. I figured the heat was broken when it was over ninety in my room."

  "I don't suppose you know anything about furnaces."

  He hated to dash the hopeful gleam in her eyes, but handyman repairs were not his area of expertise. "Unfortunately, no, I can't fix your furnace. But I do know something a
bout business. Why are you offering everyone a free night?"

  "Because they're inconvenienced. It's called goodwill."

  "It's called being too nice. And you offered to comp that woman yesterday her entire stay because she was bothered by the old man standing outside her door."

  "She was also inconvenienced and upset."

  He tipped his head toward that very same woman who was laughing with Noah in the adjacent dining room. "She seems pretty good now."

  "Well, she's happier because she knows I took care of her. And the others will be happier, too."

  "And you will go broke making everyone happy."

  She frowned. "Look, I'm doing what I have to do."

  "Actually, there are other things you could have done. You could have offered everyone a free batch of cookies or some of that homemade jam you're selling. You could have offered a percentage discount." He could see by the expression on her face that she was not thrilled with his suggestions, and he should stop talking, because it was really none of his business. On the other hand, she'd expressed to him how hard she was working, and implied she was on shaky financial ground. If he could help her, shouldn't he try?

  "In the hospitality business, making the guest happy is the number-one priority," she argued. "If I lose in the short-term, I gain in the long-term."

  "I agree with that in principle, as long as you have enough cash to survive until you get to the long-term. But if you don't, then you have to stop giving away the entire store without even being asked."

  She stared back at him. "I was afraid they were all going to check out. Better to lose one day than the whole week."

  "Where would they go? Every hotel in town is booked. You just said so. Although, I'm not sure why the lunar eclipse is such a big draw, but everyone seems to be talking about it."

  "You get a great view of the eclipse from here. Anyway, it's done. I offered the comps; I can't take them back. And I will comp your room, too."

  "No, you won't."

  "I want to treat everyone the same."

  "I can afford to pay for the room, heat or no heat. And you don't have to take my advice. I was just trying to help."

  "I appreciate that, and maybe I was too impulsive with the offer, but I felt cornered and I'm a bit of a people pleaser."

  "A bit?" he queried.

  She gave him a wry smile as she threw up her hands. "Fine. I'm a big people pleaser. I like people to be happy."

  "And you want them to like you."

  "It's more that I want them to like the inn."

  "Which is an extension of you."

  Her brows drew together. "Are you saying all this is because I have some desperate need to be liked?"

  "Do you?"

  "No. I'm already well-liked."

  "Because…"

  "Because I'm a nice person, and I'm a good friend." She tilted her head as she gave him a thoughtful look. "And besides analyzing me, maybe you should look in the mirror. Try a little harder to be liked."

  "I don't really care if anyone likes me," he said, although deep down he was beginning to think he did care about one person liking him, and that was her.

  "That's probably good, since you're not always that nice."

  "I can be nice."

  "Yes, and you can be fun. But as I said last night, just because you can be something doesn't mean you are. If you have to think about being nice or being fun, that implies you're not really either of those two things, or at least, it doesn't come naturally."

  "Ouch," he said. "Maybe you're not as nice as I thought."

  She instantly looked regretful and apologetic. "I'm sorry. It's been a rough start to the day. I didn't mean to insult you."

  "You were just being honest."

  "I was being stupid, because you're my guest."

  "Who was getting in your business without being asked."

  She met his gaze. "Well, that is true. At any rate, you should get some breakfast. You can pick from three entrees and several sides, or if you don't want anything cooked, there's yogurt and granola, fresh fruit, croissants. Breakfast is included in your stay." She suddenly frowned. "I'm sure you don't think that's a great idea, either."

  "Whether it should be included in the stay depends on how rich you are."

  "Not very. I've considered cutting back on the menu, but if I do, it will be difficult to keep Naomi. She's my chef, and she only came on board because I promised her a longer-term plan of offering dinner as well as breakfast, turning the dining room into a restaurant that the locals can enjoy all year long. Naomi is a fabulous cook and she's been happy enough with part-time because she has a daughter in high school, but next year her daughter goes off to college, and then she wants a full-time job. I don't want the other restaurants in town to steal her away." She brushed a tangled strand of hair off her forehead. "Anyway, those are all problems for another day. Right now, I need to open more windows."

  "I'll help you."

  "That's not necessary. You should eat."

  "I'll let the crowd die down," he said, noting that most of the tables were taken.

  "All right," she said, heading into the living room.

  They made their way through the inn, opening every window and door and then moved upstairs to the guest rooms. Things slowed down as Lizzie stopped to explain to various guests the problem with the furnace and asked them to open their windows. He didn't really know why he was still following her around. He had other things to do. He needed to get dressed, go into town, and get himself a phone and a computer. Then he needed to work. But as they made their way up the stairs to the attic, he was reminded of her story from the night before.

  "Is this the ghost room?" he asked, as she used her key to open the door to the only room on the fourth floor.

  "Yes, but I don't think you'll see anyone." She stepped into the room and walked over to the window.

  It was even hotter in this attic room tucked under the eaves. As Lizzie struggled with the window, he moved across the room to help her. They were both sweating even more by the time they got the rusty latch to move. As cooler air filled the room, he drew in a grateful breath. "That's better."

  "I'll say," she agreed.

  As he glanced around the room, he saw that it was decorated as attractively as all the others. There was a colorful quilt on the end of the double bed, a vase of fake flowers on the desk as well as a couple of shelves of books. There was a rocking chair across from the bed, adjacent to the window, and it moved gently back and forth with the breeze, or so he hoped.

  Lizzie followed his gaze. "It's just the wind. No one is rocking."

  "Are you sure?"

  She put her hand on the chair and stopped the motion. Then she sat down in it. "Satisfied?"

  He perched on the edge of the bed. "Hopefully, you didn't squish the ghost," he said with a grin.

  "You don't believe in ghosts. Although…" She paused, giving him a speculative look. "You said something last night about maybe wanting to believe—"

  "I don't remember saying that," he lied.

  "Well, you said something. What did you mean?"

  "I don't remember. But speaking of ghosts, tell me about Noah."

  "Noah and ghosts don't go together."

  "Are you sure? Isn't he roaming the inn, looking for some long-lost love?"

  "She's not a ghost. She just left."

  "What's his story? I saw him late last night from my window. He was out in the yard, wandering through the garden. He kept checking his watch and looking back toward the inn, to a particular room."

  "The room he shared with Alice, it's on the floor below us. He'll be moving in there today after Patty leaves."

  "Because he's expecting this woman named Alice to come back?"

  "Yes. But I doubt that will ever happen."

  "Why not?"

  "It has been ten years, for one thing." She paused. "You really want to hear the story?"

  "I do."

  "Okay, here goes. Ten years ago, Noah
and Alice stayed in room six this same week in April. Noah had come to the lake to heal. He'd spent the past year grieving the loss of his wife, and he needed to start over. His friend told him about the inn and he came here for a week. The second night he was here, there was a lunar eclipse, and he and the other guests went down to the beach. He ended up sharing a picnic blanket with Alice, who was staying in room six. They drank too much wine and during the darkness of the eclipse, they shared a forbidden kiss."

  "Why was it forbidden? Wait, let me guess. She was married."

  "Yes. Alice was married and living in Paris with her husband. But she came to a work conference in Denver and then afterward came up to the lake to vacation. She was deciding what to do with her life and whether or not she would stay married, since she was very unhappy with her husband. At least, that's what Noah told me."

  "Not an unfamiliar explanation for an affair," he said dryly.

  "Good point. Anyway, they fell hard for each other that week. Alice kept extending her stay and so did Noah. They couldn't bear to part. But then tragedy struck. Alice got word that her husband had been in an accident, and she needed to return to Paris. She told Noah she had to leave, but that one day they'd see each other again. She didn't know when, but she would come back to this magical place where she'd discovered real love and happiness for the first time. Noah said he was devastated when she left, but he understood her duty to her husband. They agreed not to speak again until she could come back, until she could leave her husband. Every year since then, during the second week in April, Noah comes back to the inn, hoping that this will be the year when Alice comes back."

  He shook his head. "She's not coming back, not after all this time."

  "I don't think so, either, but Noah hasn't given up."

  "If he wants her so badly, why doesn't he go to Paris and tell her he's still waiting for her?"

  "I don't think he knows where she is."

  "He could hire someone to find her."

  "He's in his seventies."

  "Which means he doesn't have a lot of time to waste. He's already blown ten years."

  She gave a helpless shrug. "He's a romantic. Alice said she'd come back. He thinks eventually she will."