The lake is astonishingly beautiful this morning. Little ripples travel over the surface so the reflection of the mountains seems alive. I finish my bagel and snap a few shots. One of these is sure to work for the Glacier Journal.
Finally, the guests start arriving, and I give them my full attention. I capture the joy and excitement in their faces as they see the Inn for the first time. I get the wonder in their eyes when they spot the lake. There’s a lively, dynamic atmosphere and I can’t keep the smile off my face.
Until Jonathan comes wandering down the path.
He’s late. He probably spent last night partying instead of taking this assignment seriously. And why would he take it seriously? He probably has some fancy internship he can fall back on if he needs it. Not that it’s any of my business, as he so kindly pointed out.
“Little late to the game, golden boy? I hope we didn’t disturb your beauty sleep,” I say as he gets closer.
Jonathan rolls his eyes in response, standing a few feet away from me.
His hair is wet from the shower and he’s wearing a loose hoodie and shorts. I’ve rarely seen him without his soccer gear or his polo shirts. As he takes out his camera and scrambles to put it on, a strange feeling comes over me. I’ve never seen Jonathan look uncertain or vulnerable. It’s weirdly… cute.
What are you thinking, Kiara?
I shake myself off and focus on the guests as they set up around the area. I feel a bit sorry for him. He’s struggling to get his camera ready, and he seems stressed.
Could it be? Does Jonathan actually care about doing a good job at Legacy Inn?
16
Jonathan
Kiara watches as I fiddle with the buttons on my camera. Something about her makes me nervous.
My stomach grumbles and I clear my throat to cover it. I didn’t have time for breakfast this morning. I took a shower in the bathroom block by the cabins and the water was ice cold. It took me a while to properly wash off, and I had to run straight here afterwards.
“First time with a camera, golden boy?” Kiara asks.
I glare and adjust the settings on my camera.
At school, we fall into our rivalry effortlessly. Most of the time, we’re able to avoid each other. And when we do see each other, either in class or at the end of an Eagles match, one of us lobs a snarky comment and the other claps back.
Part of me has come to enjoy our banter over the years. She’s the only girl at school who doesn’t seem completely blinded by the fact that I play for the Eagles.
Finally, I start snapping photos. I get a couple of shots of the lake before turning towards the guests, but my mind wanders to my ex-girlfriend, Isabella.
When we were dating, the whole “status” thing got old quickly. We started dating in our sophomore year, right before I gained the “star midfielder” label. She was gunning for head cheerleader but, when she got it, everything changed. It was very important to her that I boast about my status, given her prestigious position. When she broke up with me to date another top athlete this past spring, I was relieved.
I dated a couple of girls after, but nothing serious. All the conversations eventually centered on my being a state champion player, and how that could get us into the hottest parties and clubs in Edendale. It only got worse after we won the state championship two years in a row and I was awarded MVP.
That’s when I lost interest in partying. After one too many pointless conversations about how great it must be to be the “star soccer kid” at Edendale High, I stopped going to the parties. No one understood the pressure I was under, and certainly no one wanted to talk about it.
I line up the camera to take a shot of the newcomers and begrudgingly realize that Kiara was right to choose this spot. Standing here by the lake offers a perfect vantage point to get the expressions on guests’ faces as they arrive.
But something isn’t working. I check back over the photos and frown. The images are dark, colorless, like they’re missing something.
“Try moving closer to the dock. The sunlight hits the water and gives their faces a glow. Think of the lake as a giant reflector board.” Kiara’s smug voice floats over to me and I look up in surprise. The Queen strikes again. Her wide brown eyes are patronizing and she has a slightly disdainful look on her face. As usual, she comes across condescending.
But I guess she does have more experience than I do…
Without a word, I move closer to the dock and snap another photo of the elderly couple sitting on chairs in the garden. I look at the photo and the difference is night and day.
The photo looks clean, crisp and professional. I smile.
I glance up and catch a cute half-smile on Kiara’s face before she quickly drops the smile and goes back to looking displeased.
“Thanks.” Whether or not she did it to be nice, her advice helped.
She smirks, her eyes boring into mine.
I hold her gaze for a moment and something strange happens. A wave passes between us. But then, she looks away, and the moment is gone.
17
Kiara
“Did you hear? Kade Monroe is spending the entire summer here. He’s filming a new movie in the National Park.” Nath’s voice is a whisper of excitement.
I’ve come inside for a glass of water and have stopped to chat with Nath. She’s the landscape architect here at the Inn, and I wanted to know how she gets her inspiration. The garden looks spectacular this evening, as many of the guests have pointed out.
After explaining the intricacies of growing wisteria on outdoor arches, she turned her attention to the subject that was currently thrilling the Inn workers.
“Kade Monroe...” The name is vaguely familiar. “The guy from those action movies?”
“They’re only the best action movies!” Nath exclaims and then raises her eyebrows up and down. “Vin watches for the thrill, I watch for Kade.”
I laugh at Nath’s starstruck expression, and she lowers her voice once again. “He and his son, Cooper, are both staying here in the penthouse at the far end of the property.”
I stifle another laugh as Nath looks off dreamily into the distance. I’m not one to get starstruck around famous people, but Nath sounds like quite the fan. She squeezes my hand as Delia calls out from the reception.
“Kiara, they need you by the garden!”
Per Delia’s instructions, I head downstairs to work. It’s a beautiful evening, the perfect first night of vacation for many of the guests. The low buzz of cheerful conversation and laughter are intoxicating and I’m enjoying the aura of relaxation.
On the porch, a couple has commandeered one of the porch swings and they’re laughing and chatting. I ask to take their photo and they happily oblige.
I thread my way through the crowd of people in the garden. Fairy lights glow from the trees, and cute colored lanterns line the stone walkways leading to white tables and garden chairs. People bustle at the outdoor bar, getting their drinks and snacks. An early summer breeze carries the scent of roses and lavender. Overhead, the sky is a muted pink as the sun sets behind the peaks. I’ve never seen anything like it.
As I stroll through the crowd, I’m thankful for the little black dress I packed. I even brushed my hair into something of a cute updo, and I’m wearing a touch of mascara. My mom would categorically disapprove of such a display, but I’m surprised to find I actually like dressing up — at least a little.
It helps that everyone around me is dressed beautifully. The women wear bright, colorful dresses and skirts reminiscent of an international issue of Vogue. The men are wearing casual suits and slacks.
I spot Jonathan as I’m approaching the gate leading to the lakeshore. Delia may have intended for the two of us to work together, but I’ve done a good job avoiding him.
Now, curiosity gets the best of me. What’s he up to?
Jonathan leans against one of the tables by the dance floor, laughing hard. He is the picture of carefree, and he’s charming the elderly lad
y he’s speaking with. Naturally, the golden boy is out and about sweetening everyone up.
His dark jeans and white shirt fit him perfectly, showing off his soccer muscles. Tonight, his blond hair falls naturally across his forehead, not slicked in that gel guys use. He cleans up nicely — for a stuck-up soccer player.
Get it together, Kiara.
After our bizarre moment of eye contact by the lake, I quickly made an excuse to leave. I can’t explain what came over me when his blue eyes met mine. It was an electric shock that stole my breath — something I definitely don’t want to happen again.
I shake away the thought and I’m about to turn away when something makes me pause.
Jonathan places his camera on the table and holds out his hand to the elderly woman. She takes it, laughing, and he leads her to the dance floor. There’s a fun, catchy song playing and he spins her around in circles, dipping her twice.
Her laughter is contagious and I can’t stop a smile from spreading across my face as I watch them dance together. He’s laughing too as she shows him a move or two.
I remember his hands guiding me in a dance last night. He sure knows how to have a good time.
He dips her a third time, and his eyes meet mine. Everything goes quiet. He smiles. It’s not the smug, conceited smirk I’m used to. It’s not the celebratory smile I’ve captured so often after he’s scored a goal, either. This is something different. Something warm.
My legs are made of rubber, and it's amazing I don’t fall when I take my next step. Breathless, I look away.
Seriously, Kiara. Get. It. Together.
I walk through the crowd without looking back, disappearing from his blue-eyed gaze.
18
Kiara
It’s not that Jonathan’s a bad person, he’s just… fake.
It’s past midnight and I’m sitting on my bed scrolling through the photos I’ve taken this evening. The first garden party of the summer was an absolute blast, to my surprise. But my mind is long-gone, given to a memory.
Though Jonathan and I have never been close, the first blow was dealt a couple of years ago, back when we were freshmen. It was the first Eagles game of the season, and it was my first job as a photographer for the school newspaper.
It was Jonathan’s first game — he was one of two freshmen on the varsity team. In elementary school, he was the quiet, dedicated soccer kid who got pulled out of school for training and who got everything he wanted from his doting parents. At Edendale High, he’d quickly become one of the up-and-coming players for the Eagles.
It didn’t help that he’d transformed from awkward boy to teenage heartthrob virtually overnight. And me? Still mousy, clumsy, and insecure.
After the game, he was hanging out on the field with his teammates and the reporters for the school paper.
And I was late.
“Sorry!” I yelled as I caught up with the group.
The reporters — mostly seniors — rolled their eyes. They’d wrapped up their interviews, so the players were waiting for photos. A senior I didn’t recognize pretended to tap an imaginary watch on his wrist.
Flustered, I set up my camera on a tripod, then called the Eagles to attention.
“Guys?” My voice was quiet. Photography was my passion, but I still felt shy and unsure of my abilities. “Sorry, would you mind just—”
“Jon, this is dope!”
A player pushed past me and almost knocked over my tripod. My camera was only a point-and-shoot, but it was still precious. I dove and caught it just before it crashed to the ground.
“Watch it, Lucas,” Jonathan said. He raised an eyebrow and looked at me. “You good, photo girl?”
I blushed furiously and set my tripod back on its feet. My cheeks burned as all of the hot soccer players stared at the awkward girl with the camera — me.
“I’m fine.” I cleared my throat.
Jonathan smiled. My heart nearly burst and my legs went numb. Remember, this was back when I still thought he was kind.
And that’s when everything changed.
The soccer player who almost destroyed my camera, Lucas, was the only other freshman on the varsity team. And he was clearly the only one who knew who I was.
He turned to me and rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about her, Jon. She’s just the photo chick. You’d think she’d make more of an effort to protect her camera, given that it’s her one and only friend.”
The seniors burst into laughter.
My cheeks flamed red, and I wished I could disappear.
My eyes met Jonathan’s, and he sheepishly turned away, laughing quietly with the rest of the group. My voice had left me, and within moments, tears filled my eyes. I ran full-speed off of the field.
It took months for me to brave another Eagles game, but that moment changed me. From then on, I dove into my persona as a photographer. I took my mom’s advice and shamelessly pursued my future. I was going to show them all — Lucas, Jonathan, everyone — that the “photo girl” would succeed.
Since then, I have had a singular goal — to get a job as a photographer and get out of town right after graduation.
As bad as that moment was, the aftermath was worse. Lucas became known around school for being a player and an all-around jerk. In a way, I didn’t have a bone to pick with him — put simply, he’s mean and doesn’t hide it.
But Jonathan? He’s worse.
He may not have said the words that broke my heart and made the entire team laugh at me, but he went along with the joke. That side of him is a betrayal — the side that laughs at the expense of others, that can’t stand up for people when it matters the most. And yet, Jonathan is known around school for being “kind” and “nice”. Edendale High’s golden boy.
In the past, I’ve tried to explain my side of the story to friends of mine, but no one believed that Jonathan would ever behave that way.
No one but Ava. It’s no surprise that we became friends.
And it goes further than that. I’ve heard he gets stopped by strangers around Edendale, obliging their questions and photos. If you believed the rumors and town gossip, Jonathan Wright can do no wrong.
The only funny aspect, albeit morbidly so, is that he and his buddies think they’re so smart. Lucas coined the oh-so-clever “Kiara the Queen” nickname last fall. But don’t they know that calling me “Queen” demands respect?
The moon shines bright through my windows, and I switch off my camera with a sigh. The uncomfortable memory fills me with dread and determination, but this evening, I feel something else.
Seeing Jonathan struggle with his camera today was weirdly eye-opening.
In that moment, he wasn’t the Edendale High golden boy, and he wasn’t the jerk from the Eagles. He was just a guy, completely confused and out of his depths.
I remember meeting his gaze by the lake earlier, and when he danced with the elderly lady tonight at the garden party. That was a Jonathan Wright I don’t know or recognize.
So who is he, really?
19
Jonathan
“Oh, Jonathan!” Delia’s sing-song voice reaches me from across the staff room.
I look up from the bagel I’m devouring. After missing breakfast yesterday and being ravenous until lunchtime, I’m not making the same mistake twice. Wes and I are eating together. Kiara is nowhere to be seen. Probably late, as usual.
Delia swoops across the room, her cowboy hat almost blowing off in the breeze of her stride.
“There you are!” She stops in front of our table.
“Gotta go,” Wes blurts, dismissing himself before Delia can launch into her latest request.
Delia pats him on the shoulder as he takes off. “Don’t forget your whistle, my boy.”
Wes lifts his lifeguard whistle from under his shirt and salutes her. I stifle a snort. Delia means well, but she sure acts like a drill sergeant at times.
She turns her sparkling green gaze on me. “Jonathan, today is a perfect opportunity
to get some gazebo photos. Kiara is there now, and I wanted to make sure you’ll be headed there as well and not to the lake or the garden. Best to strike while the iron is hot!”
I scramble to my feet, downing my orange juice and the rest of my bagel in one gulp. “Already on my way.”
“Good.” She smiles. “Now, I need to find Noah. That boy works too hard. He volunteered this morning to help Fernando. Can you believe it?”
Delia’s off before I can respond.
I grab my camera bag and head outside. My thoughts race, and my stomach churns the bagel and orange juice uneasily. The last time I felt this nervous, I was standing in the locker room before my first soccer game at Edendale.
Okay, day two, Jonathan, you can do this.
Kiara’s challenge echoes in my mind. I told her I was quite the competitor, but would I actually be able to keep up? My heart sinks. It’s only day two and I’m already behind.
“You got this, dude,” I mumble to myself as I jog through the garden.
“Someone there?” A bush yells.
I jump with the grace of a startled cat. When I land, I see that no, obviously, the bush didn’t yell. It was Nath.
I pretend to clutch my chest. “I think — I THINK — my heart is still beating.”
Nath’s sunhat pokes over a pink rosebush. She emerges and takes off her gloves. “Just keeping you on your toes. Vin calls me low-budget espresso. I’m good at waking people up and getting their hearts racing.”
“Can’t disagree with that.”
Behind Nath, another person appears from the bush. The woman is in her late-30s and her black hair is cut in a bob. Her eyes are kind but sharp.
Nath turns towards the woman. “Randy, this is the kid I was telling you about — Jonathan.”
The Complete Legacy Inn Collection: Four Sweet YA Romances Page 54
