By number five, I was starting to get frustrated. This was a quieter pool. I dipped my feet in, which calmed me down. Centered me. I was ready to perform when I stood up and made my way to the towel bar.
The attendant was young. Probably early twenties. His eyes were glued to his phone as I came walking up so he didn’t see me at first. “Hi,” I said, dripping in front of the counter.
He didn’t look up. “Need a towel?”
“Yeah.”
He grabbed one off the stack of linens beside him and scooted it across the counter.
“Can I have an extra one, please?”
He glanced up at me. “Uh, sure.” I had his attention now. He pocketed his phone and reached into a bin of unfolded towels behind him. “Here, take one of these. Just came from the dryer.”
He tried to brush my hand as I took it from him, but I didn’t let him. He had to work to get rewards from me.
“Oh, thank you. That’s…” – I held the towel like a cape behind me, making sure the attendant’s eyes were where I wanted them before wrapping it around me – “nice.” Okay, maybe he didn’t have to work that hard.
“Can I get you anything else?” He smiled, completely accommodating now.
I pretended to consider. “Have you worked here long, uh, Eric?” I asked, reading the name on his tag.
“Going on three years.”
“Then maybe you can help me with something else.” I leaned forward over the counter, hoping I appeared flirty instead of eager. “My friend spent some time here last summer. She was my age. Blond. My size. I was wondering if you might remember her. Her name’s Amber.”
He seemed truly disappointed. “I’m sorry. There’s way too many girls that come through here for me to remember —”
“I have a picture.” I fished into the oversized beach bag at my feet and pulled out the Internet photo I’d grabbed from my file before leaving my room that morning. I’d chosen the one taken at the resort. Though I had some original pictures from a long time ago, I wasn’t ready to admit that I’d known Amber in my youth, in case – God, I was paranoid – my questioning somehow got back to Reeve. Besides, the resort shot was more recent, and I thought seeing her in context might be helpful.
The attendant peered at the photo. I watched as his face changed to recognition. Then to concern. He was fidgety when he pushed it back toward me. “Uh, no. Definitely not. I don’t know anything about her.”
He wasn’t a good liar. And why was he lying anyway?
I leaned in a little farther hoping a view of the girls could persuade him to tell the truth. “Are you sure? I know she was here. She was dating the resort owner and —”
The attendant began shaking his head before I’d even finished speaking. “Nope. Don’t know her. Excuse me but I have to get back to folding these towels. Have a nice day.” He turned completely so that his back was to me.
I stood there for another minute before picking up my bag and heading for a nearby deck chair. I slumped down and shot a glance back at the towel bar. The attendant had acted weird, hadn’t he? Or was I just imagining things again?
“You’re one crazy woman,” a voice said behind me.
I turned to find a man wearing a Sallis resort shirt picking up a used towel off the empty seat beside me. “Excuse me?”
The man gathered another few towels from the ground, speaking to me without looking at me, his voice low. “You can’t ask about Sallis’s women and expect anyone to tell you shit.”
My brow creased until I realized he must have overheard the exchange at the counter. And if my interest hadn’t been piqued before, it was now. “Does he tell you not to say anything?”
“Sallis? Not exactly. It’s unspoken. His women are not to be touched, not to be talked about. End of story. Not an out-and-out rule. The staff just knows.” He said it like the subject was over.
It wasn’t. “But how do you know? There has to be something that began the idea in the first place.” Like, Reeve planted it. It would be so typical of him with his control-everything-yet-seem-aloof desire. I wouldn’t doubt it for a moment.
But the attendant simply shrugged. “No idea.”
He shot a look over at me and must have seen the determination on my face because he stopped what he was doing and sat on the chair next to me. Perhaps overdramatically, he looked around to see who was watching us, then leaned toward me and said in a hushed voice, “Okay, you didn’t hear this from me, but there was an incident. Once. A cook who made a not-nice comment about the lady Sallis was dating.”
Though I felt silly doing so, I lowered my own voice. “What happened to him? Did he get himself fired?”
“He got himself dead.”
My stomach dropped. “Dead? For a simple comment?” Then I realized the guy was laughing. “You’re making this up.”
He grinned, straightening. “Yeah, I am.”
“Jerk,” I said playfully, returning his grin. I looked him over now, discreetly behind my sunglasses. He was cute. A nice-guy sort. Clean-cut and well mannered. He probably didn’t try anything on the first date. Maybe not the second either. He’d probably be someone that would be really good for me.
And I wasn’t interested in the slightest.
“Sorry,” he said, not at all sorry. “Couldn’t help myself. Really, there’s no story to back up my point. Just trust me – Sallis is a good employer, but he’s not the guy you want to cross. He’s the kind of guy you respect. There isn’t anyone here who will fuck that up.”