Page 50 of #Resort Love (Lakeview Harbor #1)

She grinned. “You’re too handsome for your own good. But the next time you come in here, I better see some healthier choices! Does Connor know you’re going to be eating this mess in his kitchen?”

Everyone in town knew everything going on up at the resort.

“He’s out of town for the weekend, and I think as long as I don’t burn the place to the ground, he’ll be fine.”

“You boys are doing a fine job up there. So much progress!” She put the last of his groceries in a bag. “Make sure you don’t burn the place down! It would be a shame after all the work you’ve put into it.”

“I’ll do my best,” he assured her before tapping his debit card to the screen. “You have a good weekend, Mrs. Bentley. And I’ll be thinking of you when I sit down and enjoy my dinner tonight!”

She laughed softly. “You’re a brat, Axel. Have a good weekend and behave!”

“You too!” he said with a wink, grabbing his cart and heading out to his truck.

The sky was turning an ominous shade of gray, and he knew if he wanted to beat the rain, he would have to forgo any other stops in town and make his way back to the resort.

Nothing else was pressing, so he knew he could come back on Monday and see about getting a new pair of work gloves and some saw blades.

He wasn’t going to be working this weekend, so he’d be fine.

He quickly loaded the groceries and climbed into the truck as the first clap of thunder sounded, followed by a flash of lightning.

This storm probably meant that their cable was going to go out and the Wi-Fi would be spotty.

That all made him wonder just what he was going to do with himself if he couldn’t watch TV or scroll on social media.

“I guess I’m gonna find out.”

Heading out of town, he thought of the truck on the side of the road and wondered if the owner had come back for it. As he got closer to the resort, he didn’t see it, so he had his answer, happy that they weren’t going to have to hitch a tow or wait it out in the storm.

“Good for you, stranger,” he said just as the first drops of rain started to fall.

It went from a drizzle to a downpour in the blink of an eye, and his visibility was crap.

When he finally passed through the gates of the resort, he breathed a sigh of relief and wondered whether he should go to his cabin or up to the lodge.

But as he pulled closer to his parking spot, he noticed another vehicle parked haphazardly near the entrance to the lodge.

The closer he got, the more he could make out that it was the truck that had been on the side of the road earlier.

“Maybe this was as far as they could get and it broke down again?” he wondered, driving over and getting as close as he could. But even when he pulled over so they were driver’s side to driver’s side, he didn’t see anyone in there. “What the hell…?”

After a quick maneuver to put some space between their trucks, Axel quickly glanced around for an umbrella, a jacket, or even an old sweatshirt. The rain was coming down so heavily that he wasn’t sure anything would really help, but it seemed like the thing to do.

Grabbing an old hoodie, he slid it on before jumping out of the truck and making a run for the main entrance of the lodge. He had no idea who or what he was going to find, but it was his responsibility to at least look.

“Son of a freaking bitch!” Maisie Quinn screeched, yanking hard on the front doors of the Lakeview Harbor Resort lodge.

Her umbrella had just blown away, and the rain was getting heavier by the second.

This just wasn’t her day. She knew she was late—stupid old truck!

—but she also knew there was a group of contractor guys living on site. So where the hell were they?

Sighing loudly, she stared out at the rain from the porte-cochere—thankful for the shelter from the storm.

She had prayed she could get inside and still have her interview, but it looked like she was doomed to have to run back to her truck and get soaked again.

It would have been great if she could have pulled her truck right up to the door since that’s what this entire area was for, but the whole thing was blocked off for traffic and most of the blacktop was torn up.

It was an absolute mess and getting messier and muddier thanks to the rain.

Much like her own appearance.

Although maybe it was a blessing in disguise that the interview didn’t work out because she was definitely not looking her best. Staring at her reflection in the glass doors, she cringed.

“A chubby drowned rat,” she murmured. “I know I wouldn’t hire me.”

And the thing was, she desperately needed this job.

Like…beyond desperately.

Almost life or death desperately.

Only now, with no one here, it looked like she was about to lose everything.

“Seriously, universe!” she cried out, stomping her foot. “You can’t give me even one little break? I saved that turtle, doesn’t that count for anything?”

Of course, stopping short seemed to be the thing that caused her engine to seize up.

At least, that’s how it seemed. She literally knew nothing about car engines or how they worked.

All she knew was she was chugging along okay one minute, but after she stopped short for the turtle and turned the truck off, it wouldn’t start again.

Well, it did eventually, but now she was afraid to get back in it and discover that it wouldn’t start a second time.

“Because that would just be my luck,” she said wearily. “To be stuck at a freaking resort that has a hundred rooms and I can’t get in.”

If it weren’t monsooning out, she’d probably walk around the entire perimeter and find a way to get in, even if it meant breaking a window or something.

Great. Now I’m thinking about committing a misdemeanor.

To say her life was on a downward spiral would be putting it mildly.

Turning, she pulled on the massive doors again hoping they would magically open, but they didn’t. Then she considered throwing a rock through them, but opted to call that Plan B. So where did that leave her?

“Looks like I’m walking in the rain.” Maisie was just about to step out from under the overhang when she remembered seeing a set of stairs that led around to the back of the lodge.

Maybe that would be open and she’d be able to wait until one of the owners or contractors showed up.

Technically, it wouldn’t be breaking and entering or trespassing.

After all, if the door was open and she did have an appointment…

I am seriously grasping at straws.

A month ago, her life had been completely different.

She’d been living in a luxury condo in Manhattan, eating at some of the trendiest restaurants, and essentially living her best life.

Being born into a wealthy family meant she shouldn’t have a care in the world.

Growing up, she’d gone to the best private schools, vacationed in places all over the world, and even hung out with some A-list celebrities.

So how did she go from that to practically living in a thirty-year-old pickup truck?

By refusing to marry the man her grandparents chose for her.

Yeah. So that was still a thing, apparently.

Maisie thought the days of arranged marriages were pretty much gone and abolished.

Not in my family, she thought.

And it wasn’t like her grandparents were alone in their thinking.

Nope. Her parents were on board with the whole arrangement as well.

She was just a pawn in merging two mega wealthy families.

It didn’t matter that Maisie was against it—vehemently, by the way—or that Bryce was basically the equivalent of human trash.

The stereotypical frat boy who engaged in multiple questionable acts against women and had his family pay off anyone who dared to speak out against him.

So…definitely not marriage material.

Except for her, apparently.

That’s what happened when you’re too curvy and your parents don’t think anyone would want you.

“I should be in therapy right now, not trying to break into a resort.”

Unfortunately, therapy wasn’t an option at the moment. Right now she had to get out of the rain and possibly beg whoever was on site to forgive her for being late and hopefully still let her interview for the chance to decorate the resort.

Because that was her dream—to be an interior designer and decorator. She’d gone to college for it, had her degree, and thought that was where her life was going. But her family had other ideas, and none of them involved her doing what she wanted.

“You should be thrilled, Maisie,” her mother had told her over brunch last month. “Now you don’t have to worry about losing the weight in hopes of landing a man! You won’t be a trophy wife, but you will have a secure future without having to work! Most girls would love to be in your shoes!”

Would they, though? She thought. That way of thinking was as outdated as the arranged marriage. It was like being trapped in some bizarre time warp.

But no matter how much she had argued her case—always respectfully—no one was interested.

In everyone else’s mind, she was being ungrateful.

And when she finally put her foot down a few weeks ago, her father had given her an ultimatum of sorts.

She had eight weeks to prove she could make it on her own and have a career in interior design.

He gave her the old pickup that she swore he must have picked up from a junkyard, and very little money.

All her credit cards? Gone. She still had access to her bank account, but she was doing her best to be frugal.

At the end of the two months if she didn’t succeed?

She was marrying Bryce.

Just thinking about that douchey frat boy touching her made her cringe.