Staying For You Page 21

  “Sounds good.”

  She nods, types away, scans my credit card and my ID, and then slides over a keycard and begins pointing around the hotel.

  “Continental breakfast from 6 a.m. – 9 a.m. The rest of the day, snacks and non-alcoholic beverages are offered until 11 p.m. You’re in room 316. Elevators are behind you. You’ll find a list of amenities here.” She flips over my keycard envelope and points out the listing. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call down. Someone is always manning the desk.”

  “Thank you,” I look at her name tag and gulp, “Olivia.” For goodness sakes.

  “You’re welcome, Camilla. Enjoy your stay with us.”

  I nod and make my way to the elevator, hit the up button then step inside once the doors open. I press the three and wait while the elevator ascends the short trip up to my floor.

  Stepping out of the elevator, I turn in the direction toward my room, take a deep breath when I get to my door, slide my key in and wait for the lock to light up green. It beeps and I turn the handle, step inside, toss my things on the chair in the corner, sit down on the edge of the mattress… and cry.

  * * *

  I slept all night and miss breakfast the next morning. Somehow peacefully even though I didn’t have my own change of sheets for the bed. That doesn’t mean I didn’t inspect it thoroughly before I slid under the covers.

  It’s 11 a.m. and I’m irritated because Owen’s stupid breakfasts have ruined me for life. My stomach is now used to his offerings. Which reminds me of other things he offered me that I’m missing already.

  Before bed sex.

  Middle of the night sex.

  Early morning sex.

  Mid-day-I-need-a-writing-break-sex.

  Suddenly I’m part nymphomaniac and I’m jonesing for my fix.

  “Jerk,” I grumble to the ceiling, kicking off the covers.

  I remove my phone from the charger on the nightstand and power it up. Three missed calls. Five texts. Seven Facebook messages. One Instagram message request.

  Nothing I’m not used to.

  Ignoring the phone, I go to the bathroom and do my business, wash my hands and brush my teeth because I didn’t do it last night and that’s just nasty.

  Last night when I got in, I didn’t take the time to look around the room. It’s actually incredibly nice. Not that I’m complaining about the cabin, but this is luxury compared to what I’m used to the last five weeks. Just thinking that makes me feel guilty then I remember the way Owen treated me before I left and all guilt flies out the window.

  The room is more like a suite. A sitting area is separate from the bedroom. The bathroom is enormous, including a large jet tub to soak in. And that’s exactly what I think I’ll do. Despite the hunger in my stomach, I fill the tub with hot water and toss in some of the bath salts that are offered from the hotel and remove my clothes that I slept in last night. I slip into the spacious tub, the hot water soothing my muscles instantly and press the button for the jets.

  I relax in the tub until my fingers prune and the water turns cool, head resting on a rolled-up towel on the back of the tub. My thoughts roam over the past decade of my life.

  From the decisions I made and experiences I’ve been blessed with.

  My life hasn’t been all bad, even though the recent months that’s all I’ve dwelled on. The cheating husband and crappy books and horrible reviews. What I forgot about was the fact that I have beautiful nieces and nephews. My mother is healthy and happy and thriving as a nana and head nurse of the surgery department. Two of my brothers are married and one is engaged to be married in the winter. I have readers and followers who haven’t deserted me even though I don’t always publish best sellers and friends who will support me and back me no matter what. I’ve traveled all over the United States and was able to take a girls’ trip to Mexico a few years ago. By all accounts, I’m fortunate. I have money. A home — even if my ex can’t seem to stay out of it — a nice car, and I’m healthy.

  And even though it failed miserably, I was able to experience a love that I never expected. A love I didn’t see coming but am so glad it did. No matter how it ended, it happened. There was a slow beginning and a wonderful middle and the end, it was awful, but I survived it.

  I don’t regret what happened with Owen. I’ll take my time to lick my wounds and grieve what could have been but I’ll survive and move forward because that’s what I do.

  I turn on the shower and wash the bath water off me, shampoo and condition but skip shaving because who cares right now. Wrapping myself up in the fluffy white hotel robe, I go back to my bed, and order some room service.

  A big juicy mushroom and Swiss cheeseburger and fries sound so amazing. As does the brownie sundae. So I order both. Along with two cans of soda.

  Then I rent a movie and settle in until my food arrives. Which thankfully doesn’t take long. I don’t waste a second to dig in, eating on the bed while I watch a comedy on the TV screen.

  Stomach full, movie over, I move to the window in my hotel room and look out. It’s such a beautiful view of… a parking lot. Not exactly as inspiring as The Escape was but I’m feeling ready to write so I get dressed, go down to my car and get my laptop. Not my smartest move to leave it in there last night, but I wasn’t necessarily thinking all that clearly when I arrived.

  Back in my room, I power it up and log in to the hotel Wi-Fi. I didn’t miss it, but I did. The ease of doing something as simple as checking email because of having a strong internet connection makes life easier but it brings with it its burdens as well.

  I answer a few emails, ignoring one from OliviaJohnston21. I don’t need to read whatever Owen’s sister is sending me. Especially considering that the subject line is: My brother.

  Nope. Not going to do it. I leave it unread and close out my email, check a few things on Facebook and pop in to my reader group to remind them that I’m alive. I’d done my best to keep active with them while I was gone, but they knew what was up and luckily, as I remembered earlier while I was in the tub, I have some insanely loyal readers who love me. I’m lucky.

  I see a message from Olivia Johnston on Facebook as well but again, choose to ignore it. I need to focus on myself right now and I’m sure she’s found out what happened with Owen and is just reaching out to me to come to his defense.

  I’m tired of people’s excuses for stupid behavior. Which reminds me of Scott and his monumental stupid behavior.

  I look up the number to the local police department back in Tennessee and give them a call.

  After they answer, I launch in with letting them know that I’ve been told my ex-husband and his girlfriend have been staying in my home while I was away without my permission. They promise to pay him a visit and I ask them to keep an eye on the place until I am able to get back home. Thank goodness for small towns because they don’t even bat an eye at my request. Just let me know they’ll send over someone to check things out and make sure he’s no longer staying there.

  Then I call my lawyer, who doesn’t answer, so I have to leave a message with the details. The fact that I know I’ll be billed for more of Scott’s crap makes me irritated but I’d rather have all my ducks in a row in case Scott tries to pull something over on me.

  I turn the Wi-Fi back off and open my writing program with the manuscript I’m currently working on. It takes me no time to fall into my writing, getting lost in the single dad romance I’m quickly considering my favorite. It’s the second book I’ve written about a single dad since I arrived at The Escape and now I’m addicted. It’s not lost on me that I picture the way Owen was with his niece and nephew when I’m writing, but I put it out of my mind.

  I needed inspiration and he gave it to me. If that means that I pen out an entire story based on Owen, so be it.

  I take a short break to use the restroom and grab some water from the hotel fridge, knowing I’ll end up paying over $4 for it but not caring at the same time.

  Soon the sky is growi
ng dark outside and my back aches, my fingers are cramping, and I realize I wrote five chapters in about five hours. I want to still be angry with Owen, but how can I be when witnessing the way he was as an uncle for just a couple days gave me enough writing material for an entire book. If nothing else comes out of my time up there, like being with him, which my heart stupidly still longs for, at least I got that.

  Remembering the hotel offers snacks, I head down and load up on some chicken fingers and nachos and a bag of popcorn. Apparently I’m eating like a fifteen-year-old now.

  I carry it up to my room to eat then decide it’s time to check in with Gretchen.

  She answers on the first ring. “You’re never allowed to do that shit to me again,” she barks instead of answering.

  “Do what?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me. You know what. I haven’t heard from you in thirty-six hours, Cami. I had no idea what happened to you!”

  She’s right. She knew I was upset with everything that’d happened with Scott and his pregnant girlfriend but then I just went silent. It wasn’t fair of me to do that to her, especially considering the last time she and I spoke I was telling her I was coming home.

  “I’m sorry. I just needed some time.”

  “I get that but for shit’s sake, woman, check in with your best friend while you’re giving yourself time.”

  “Promise. Next time I decide to go dark, I’ll check in.”

  “Good. Now. Tell me what’s happening. Where are you?”

  Where do I even start? I explain that Owen overheard part of our conversation and acted like a jackass then how I left, he tried calling, which I ignored repeatedly, his sister has tried to reach out, which I also ignored, and that I’m almost finished with the second book that I started writing while I was up at The Escape.

  “I might need a moment to take all this in.”

  “Take your time.”

  She actually does take some time. Two minutes of it, in fact.

  “Did you call the police and your lawyer?”

  “I did. Police are checking on the house and I left a message for my lawyer.”

  “I still can’t believe Scott did that.”

  “I wish I could say me either but the fact is, this doesn’t surprise me all that much. He’s an entitled little prick who expects everyone to just give him what he wants. I cannot begin to imagine him as a father and as much as it irks me that he told me for years that he didn’t want kids and wouldn’t consider it even knowing how much I wanted them, I’m so grateful we never went there. He’s one of the most selfish humans on the planet and that’s not something you have the luxury of being when you’re a parent.”

  “This is so so true,” she murmurs.

  I kick my feet up on the bed and rest against the pillows I propped up against the headboard. “I’m going to stay here for another day, I think, as long as the hotel has space and then I’ll head home. The words are flowing so well and I don’t want to shake anything up now.”

  “When am I going to get to read these words that are flowing?”

  “Before I leave tomorrow, I’ll send you the entire document.”

  “Look at you. Back to my Cami. I knew you were still there.”

  Tears spring to my eyes. It’s so true. I lost myself for a little while but a few weeks in a cabin by a lake recharged my batteries and helped me remember that I am awesome.

  “I love you,” I tell her simply.

  “I love you, too.”

  “I mean it. If it wasn’t for you, I don’t know where I’d be right now. Thank you for knowing what I needed.”

  “To be fair, I told you to go south so I could visit and you did the opposite,” she reminds me.

  “I definitely did the opposite.” I laugh then she starts laughing harder because she knows how different Scott and Owen are from each other.

  Once our laughter dies down, she goes quiet.

  “What?”

  “I think you should call him.”

  I pick at the soft sheets and then run my hand back and forth over them. “Owen?”

  “Obviously.”

  Rubbing my lips together, I can’t help but think maybe she’s right. He overreacted by not letting me explain myself, but maybe I did the same. I left without a goodbye and neither of us were able to get closure.

  “Maybe.”

  “Call me before you leave?”

  “I will,” I promise.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Owen

  Cami’s been gone for a week. Today is the day she was supposed to be heading home to Tennessee and instead of a tearful goodbye, I’m spending my day stomping around The Escape, barking at anyone who gets in my way. Since we started getting more reservations, some of my staff came back early. I bet they’re regretting that decision now.

  Someone I’ve never seen before is here with the crew who gets the docks ready for the season but that’s not completely unusual.

  “Nice place ya got here,” he says to me as I’m fixing a couple broken planks of wood. His brand new pair of boots are planted next to my hands and in my way. I could tell this guy was green when it comes to doing manual labor just by looking at him. His actions have only proven as much.

  “Thanks,” I grunt, pulling up a board and setting it behind me.

  “Been here long?”

  Who the hell is this guy and why isn’t he working? “Yup.”

  “Not a big talker, huh?”

  I sigh and stand up, brushing off my hands. “Listen. I’ve got a shit ton of work to do to get the resort ready. If you’re here to work, get to it. If you’re here to chitchat, I suggest you find a different job because this isn’t for you. I don’t know where you came from, but here we work hard or we get fired. I suggest you make a decision if you’re going to be a pussy who doesn’t know how to work like a man or…” I make a big show of pointing out my working hands and boots that are far from brand new, which means I won’t have blisters at the end of the day.

  He gives me a strange look that highly resembles a sneer then his back as he walks away toward the rest of the guys who are actually working. David, the crew leader, smirks and I shrug, roll my eyes, and get back to work.

  I’m not here to make friends. The last time I made friends with someone from The Escape, well… I won’t think about it now because I don’t want to break more boards.

  It’s a warm day but not too hot. Perfect for finishing up the job that I’ve been putting off since Cami left. I never got around to staining the deck and the forecast calls for rain in a few days. If I get it done now, it’ll have plenty of time to dry before it rains.

  “David, I’m heading up to the lodge if you guys need anything.”

  He waves me off. “We’ll be fine. Even with the winter we had up here, everything looks pretty good to go. We’ll make sure you’re ready for the season and I’ll check in before we head out.”

  “Sounds good.”

  I make my way back up to the lodge, feeling eyes on my back. I know it’s the new guy. Pissed that I called him a pussy in front of all the men but I call things like I see them. And if he doesn’t want to be called a pussy, then he shouldn’t behave like one.

  The last week, I’ve gotten more work done than I normally do in a month’s time. At night I’ve fallen asleep fitfully, despite how physically exhausted I was. Cami won’t return my calls or texts and I don’t blame her. Everywhere I look, though, I see her.

  She was playful and fun and funny and kind and about a million other things.

  I’m working on the edge of the deck, about to start staining the stairs. Sweat’s dripping from my brow and stinging my eyes. I should have worn a cap today to prevent some of that. But I’m almost finished now. I’ll just power through it and finish so I can shower and get to town to run my long list of errands. I decided I’d build two more cabins this summer, which means I need to finish the other two first. Ethan and Olivia aren’t happy with me. They knew something was up when I ha
dn’t FaceTimed with Brody for a while so when they finally reached me and I gave them a quick rundown of what went down with Cami and then added on my plans for summer, they saw right through it. Fill my days with work and I’ll forget about everything else.

  At this rate, I’ll have more new cabins than old. Fine by me. More cabins means more guests and no matter what, my vision for The Escape has and always will stay the same. Bring families together.

  I hear my sliding door open and my head jerks up.

  “What the fuck?”

  The new guy who was down at the docks is walking across my freshly stained deck, leaving footprints as he marches toward me like he’s on a mission.

  “I hear you spent a few weeks fucking someone else’s wife,” he says, leaning against the railing like he owns the place and has a right to be here.

  “Not sure where you heard that, but s’far I know, I’ve never slept with a married woman.”

  The air around him shifts as he tries to make himself appear larger than what he really is. “You don’t know shit then.”

  “Care to fill me in here? And while you’re at it, stop moving around and ruining my fresh stain?”

  He doesn’t even look down at his feet or acknowledge what he’s doing. In fact, if anything, he twists his feet around to ruin my work even more.

  I stand up, realizing he’s here to be a dick and I’m in a shitty enough mood that I’ll gladly take on whatever he’s wanting to dish out.

  “I’ll ask again. Care to fill me in here?” It’s clear I pissed him off somehow and he’s making sure I know it.

  “Like I said, you’ve been fucking a married woman.”

  “Don’t know how you know dick about my sex life,” I say, crossing my arms across my chest and planting my feet wide. This guy’s a tool. A scrawny piece of shit who’s got a chip on his shoulder.

  “It’s my business when it’s my wife you’ve been fucking.”

  “Guy, you’ve got the wrong man.” I move like I’m going to go back to working on the deck because I don’t have time for this.